" French smiled a little. "They've
picked up a lot of people in their time, you know. You won't be lonely."

He cared, all right! He had to stay here, on the field. He couldn't
afford to let them take him away. Any minute the Founder would appear,
would step onto the field. Would he be one of the townsmen, standing
silently at the foot of the field, waiting, watching?

Or maybe he was Joe French. Or maybe one of the cops. Anyone of them
might find himself moved to speak. And the few words spoken this day
were going to be important for a long time.

And Conger had to be there, ready when the first word was uttered!

"I care," he said. "You go on back to town. Take the girl with you."

Lora got stiffly in beside Joe French. The plumber started up the motor.
"Look at them, standing there," he said. "Like vultures. Waiting to see
someone get killed."

* * * * *

The truck drove away, Lora sitting stiff and silent, frightened now.
Conger watched for a moment. Then he dashed back into the woods, between
the trees, toward the ridge.

He could get away, of course. Anytime he wanted to he could get away.
All he had to do was to leap into the crystal cage and turn the handles.
But he had a job, an important job. He had to be here, here at this
place, at this time.

He reached the cage and opened the door. He went inside and picked up
the gun from the shelf. The Slem-gun would take care of them. He notched
it up to full count. The chain reaction from it would flatten them all,
the police, the curious, sadistic people--

They wouldn't take him! Before they got him, all of them would be dead.
_He_ would get away. He would escape. By the end of the day they would
all be dead, if that was what they wanted, and he--

He saw the skull.

Suddenly he put the gun down. He picked up the skull. He turned the
skull over. He looked at the teeth. Then he went to the mirror.

He held the skull up, looking in the mirror. He pressed the skull
against his cheek. Beside his own face the grinning skull leered back at
him, beside _his_ skull, against his living flesh.

He bared his teeth. And he knew.

It was his own skull that he held. He was the one who would die. He was
the Founder.

After a time he put the skull down. For a few minutes he stood at the
controls, playing with them idly. He could hear the sound of motors
outside, the muffled noise of men. Should he go back to the present,
where the S