me of his customers who may have bought
some lately. What about the college laboratories? Do they have any?"

"I don't know," said Professor Maddox. "We'll have to contact Dr. Bintz
for that."

"Let's get at it," said Hart. "We've got to wake up the Mayor and the
Council. The cattle committee will have to be there. Nelson and Bintz,
too. We'll find out how much vaccine we've got and decide what to do
with it."

Two hours later the men met in the Council chambers of City Hall.
Because of the lack of heat, they retained their overcoats and sheepskin
jackets. The incrusted snow on their boots did not even soften. In
soberness and shock they listened to Dr. Smithers.

"Nobody grows up in a farming community without knowing what anthrax
means," he said. "We've got a total of twenty-eight hundred head of beef
and dairy cattle in the valley, plus a couple of thousand sheep, and
about a hundred horses.

"Jack Nelson's stock of vaccine, plus what he thinks may be in the hands
of his customers, plus some at the college is enough to treat about a
thousand animals altogether. Those that aren't treated will have to be
slaughtered. If they prove to be uninfected they can be processed for
meat storage.

"Some vaccine will have to be held in reserve, but if we don't clean up
the valley before next year's calf crop we won't stand a chance of
increasing our herds. That's the situation we're up against, Gentlemen."

Mayor Hilliard arose. "The only question seems to me to be which animals
are of most worth to us. I say we should let all the sheep go. A cow or
a horse is worth more than a sheep to us now.

"That leaves the question of the horses. Which is worth more to us: a
horse or a cow? We can't haul logs without horses, but we won't need to
worry about staying warm if we haven't got food enough."

Harry Mason of the fuel committee stood up immediately. "I say we've got
to keep every horse we've got. It would be crazy to give any of them up.
There aren't enough now to haul the fuel we need."

"A horse is a poor trade for a cow in these times," protested the food
committee's chief, Paul Remington. "Every cow you let go means milk for
two or three families. It means a calf for next year's meat supply. We
can freeze and still stay alive. We can't starve and do the same thing.
I say, let every horse in the valley go. Keep the cows and beef cattle."

An instant hubbub arose, loudly protesting or approving these two
extreme views