a wave of his hand. "They made it
up, probably. Forget it till you see the animal itself. You'll have time
to believe it then. We got enough to worry about already."

Jerry couldn't forget it. But there was a kind of reassurance in such
hearty skepticism. With each passing minute, that huge print seemed more
unreal.

* * * * *

Halfway through the valley they stopped to look at the river. The bed
was half full--muddy, debris-laden, with a sheen of dust on the surface.
But it was water--wet, tangible, undeniable.

Watson took off his hat and rubbed his head and swore.

"Good afternoon."

They turned. Joe Merklos was smiling at them.

"Hello," Jerry said. Watson just glowered.

Merklos moved beside them and looked down. His brilliant teeth flashed.
"Good, is it not?" The guttural words came out flat, one at a time, as
though shaped carefully.

"Better than money, in this part of the world." Jerry's eyes narrowed.
"Did you know about the water when you bought the valley?"

Merklos smiled again. He was bare-headed, dressed in dark trousers and a
loose, short-sleeved blouse. His neck and muscular forearms gleamed
bronze in the sunlight. "You like what we do here?" he asked in his
deep, hesitant manner.

"You've done wonders," Watson said shortly.

Merklos' smoky eyes held Jerry's. "My people are used to work."

Slowly, significantly, Watson said, "The thing we don't understand is
how you managed to bring so much equipment. The exact things you
needed--right down to the last nail."

Merklos' inscrutable gaze swung around. The smile lingered on his face.
"We are a careful people. We plan a long way ahead."

Watson opened his mouth for another question--and shut it. Merklos'
attention had left them. The man was listening, his head slightly
cocked. After a moment he turned. "I am happy to see you making a visit.
I hope you come again." He nodded and walked swiftly away.

Wordlessly, Jerry and the sheriff got back in the car. "Could you hear
what he was listening to?" Jerry muttered.

"I didn't hear a thing."

"Notice anything else about Dark Valley?"

* * * * *

Watson shook his head.

"No flowers. Not one dog." Jerry's hand tightened on the steering-wheel.
"And who has ever gotten a single, clear look at one of the kids?"

Jerry spent a restless night. On the way to his office the next morning
he met Watson, talking to a farmer on the cou