neighbors, with all weapons available, and
lead them to the sectors which the Sheriff will designate. Each man will
bring all the ammunition he owns. Additional stores will be distributed
by wagon to the sectors. Above everything else, each man must be warned
to make each shot count."

The room was silent, and there was no protest or disagreement. Mayor
Hilliard, the man who had made fancy speeches, seemed to have vanished.
Hilliard, the dynamic, down-to-earth leader had taken his place. For a
moment no one in the room was more surprised than Hilliard himself.

"There's one thing I want to make absolutely clear," he said after a
pause. "You people who are working at the laboratory on College Hill are
to keep away from the front-lines and away from all possible danger.
That's an order, you understand?"

"No," said Professor Maddox abruptly. "It's our duty as much as anyone
else's to share in the defenses."

"It's your duty to keep your skins whole and get back into the
laboratories as quickly as you can and get things running again! We
haven't any special desire to save your necks in preference to our own,
but in the long run you're the only hope any of us has got. Remember
that, and stay out of trouble!"

The Sheriff made his appointments in rapid-fire sequence, naming many
who were not present, ordering messengers sent to them. Ken volunteered
to ride after the wood detail.

"I guess it's safe enough to let you do that," the Mayor said. "Make it
fast, but don't break your neck."

"I'll take it easy," Ken promised.

Outside, he selected the best of the three police horses and headed up
out of town, over the brittle snow with its glare ever-reminding of the
comet. When he was on higher ground, he glanced back over the length of
the valley. The nomads were not in sight. Not in force, anyway. He
thought he glimpsed a small movement a mile or two away from the
barrier, at the south end of the valley before it turned out of sight at
the point, but he wasn't sure. Once he thought he heard a rifle shot,
but he wasn't sure of that, either.

As he appeared at the edge of the forest clearing, Mark Wilson, foreman
of the detail, frowned irritably and paused in his task of snaking a log
out to the road.

"You'll ruin that horse, besides breaking your neck, riding like that in
this snow. You're not on detail, anyway."

"Get all your men and horses up here right away," Ken said. "Mayor's
orders to get back to town at on