ey
would be left to shift for themselves. Yes, there was plenty of food
in the kitchens; they were welcome to it. And a permanent telephone
connection would be made to their room. The frightened clerk wished
them luck.

* * * * *

In endless monotone, the voice of the news announcer droned on.
Binghamton and Elmira, Albany and Schenectady, New Haven,
Philadelphia, Allentown--all had succumbed. The casualty estimates now
ran into the millions. The mist, the red mist that rose from the
steaming weed, was drifting westward and spreading the seed with ever
increasing rapidity. For now the monstrous growth from out the sky was
adapting itself to its environment; providing the seed with feathery
tufts that permitted the winds to carry them far and wide like the
seed of a dandelion.

"Turn off that damn thing!" Bill shouted. And he jumped to his feet,
his eyes glinting strangely in the twilight gloom of the room. Bill
was close to the breaking point.

"Guess you're right," Bart mumbled. "Not good for either of us to
listen to that stuff." He switched off the receiver, and they sat in
silence as darkness fell over the city.

Bill shivered and felt for the button of the electric light which he
pressed with a trembling finger. They blinked in the sudden
illumination, but it cheered them somewhat. It was not good to sit in
the darkness and think. Besides, they knew that the turbine generators
of Potomac Edison were still running. Some brave souls were sticking
to their jobs--for a time, at least.

"God!" Bill suddenly groaned, after an endless time of dead silence.
"My sister! Lives in Pittsburgh, you know. Wonder if she and the kids
got away. It won't be long before the damn stuff gets there."

Bart thanked his lucky stars that he had no family ties. "Oh, they've
had plenty of warning," he tried to console Bill. "Hours, you know;
and the westbound lines are in good shape from there. I wouldn't worry
about them if I were you."

There was utter silence once more. Even the customary street noises
was lacking. Both men jumped nervously when the shrill siren of a
police motorcycle sounded in the distance. Bart thought grimly of his
fracas with the officer who had tried to arrest Van. How long ago that
seemed, and how inconsequential an incident!

Their windows faced north, and by midnight they could make out the red
glow of the moon weed, that awful band of flickering crimson that
painted th