le
to explain that Witch products had been used to make the slum clean,
clean, Witch clean, even though it took carpenters and builders and
contractors to remodel a slum building itself. That's better, thought
Randolph, watching. No more of this "miracle" nonsense.

It was barely 10:00 a.m. next morning when Randolph's phone rang.

"Randolph, here," he said, and heard Oswald's voice without
preliminary.

"They've gone."

"Who's gone?"

"The tenants of the building. Just picked up their duds and left. I've
put dicks on the case, and one family has moved in with relatives in
the Bronx. The others scattered, but we'll trace 'em. Here's one of
the policemen that was on duty when they left. He'll tell you."

A new voice came on the phone, as Randolph chewed his lip.

"Mr. Randolph? This is what happened, near as I can figure. We roped
off the area at dark, last night. Figured we'd give the families some
rest, and keep out the night-thrill guys.

"Everybody in the apartments must have gotten together after we
cleared out the crowds. It was pretty quiet, but the lights stayed on
till about 2:00 a.m. Then they all started parading out, some even
wearing their old clothes. They were carrying a few things, but
nothing that looked like they hadn't had it before the change, so we
figured what they were taking was theirs, probably.

"Didn't say a word. Just paraded past us. Some of the kids was crying,
but otherwise they were quiet."

"Then one man came running back to me, and he said 'Get out of here.
It's the devil's work. Get away from this place if you're a
God-fearing man.' Then he turned and ran toward the subway with the
rest.

"I couldn't figure we had any orders to stop 'em, so we didn't try. We
just watched."

Oswald came back on the phone.

"Can you keep it out of the papers?" Randolph asked.

"It's already on every newscast, and the papers'll have it by
noon--it's on the wires," Oswald said.

Randolph coughed nervously, but Oswald didn't wait for him to speak.

"I'm working on something to counteract this," he said. "We're being
witch-hunted," Oswald said. "I'll get the whole firm to work on it and
call you back."

* * * * *

In Washington, meantime, another conference was going on, far more
intent, far more critical.

"It's more than just a pest plane that crashed in Formosa, Mr.
President," the CIA Chief was saying. "It carried bacterial bombs, and
they exploded