l who
could be spared from woodcutting and every other activity for 2 or 3
weeks I think we could get it done."

"You know how many men are left," said Johnson. "Between the war with
the nomads and the epidemic of flu, one-third of those we had when this
started are dead. A third of the ones left are sick, and quite a few of
those on their feet have to take care of the ones that aren't."

"I know," said Ken.

"You know how the people feel about you scientists?"

"Yes."

The Sheriff stared at him a long time before continuing. "It won't be
easy, but we'll do it. When do you want to start?"

"Tomorrow morning. In Jenkin's pasture, north of town."

"How many men?"

"All the carpenters you can get and a hundred others to rustle materials
and tear down old buildings."

"I meet with the Council this afternoon to go over work assignments.
You'll have your men in the morning."

The rest of the day, Ken and his fellow club members chose the exact
spot to erect the projector and staked it out. They spotted the nearest
buildings that could be dismantled for materials, and made estimates of
how much they needed.

The following morning they met again on the site, and there were ten men
from town, in addition to the college students and others who had taken
part in the research on College Hill.

"Are you all Johnson could spare?" Ken asked the group.

The nearest man shook his head. "They were assigned. No one else would
come. They think you are wasting your time; they think you can't do
anything about the comet. A lot of them are like Meggs and Granny Wicks:
they think you shouldn't _try_ to do anything about it."

Ken felt a blaze of anger. "Sometimes, I think they're right!" he said
bitterly. "Maybe it would be better if we just let the whole thing go!"

"Now don't get me wrong," the man said. "We're on your side. We're here,
aren't we? I'm just telling you what they say and think in town."

"I know and I'm sorry. These other fellows will tell you what we need
done. I'm going to ride in to see Johnson."

The Sheriff was not in his office. Ken was told he had gone over to the
food warehouse where rations were being distributed. There was some
rumor of a disturbance.

Ken remounted his horse and rode to the warehouse. As he approached, he
saw the lineup before the distribution counter was motionless. In front
of the counter, Sheriff Johnson stood with a pair of revolvers in his
hands, holding back the crowd.