all. Probably our
imaginations."

"I don't think so," Frank cut in. "They were there and then they were
gone. I'm sure of it."

"Those wailing noises. They were certainly signalling to each other. Do
you suppose that's the only language they have?" Nora walked over and
offered the silent Minna a cigarette. Minna refused with a shake of her
head.

"I wish we knew what they looked like," Frank said. "But let's not sit
here talking. Let's get going."

Jim Wilson was scowling. There was a marked sullenness in his manner.
"Not Minna and me. I've changed my mind. I'm sticking here."

Frank blinked in surprise. "Are you crazy? We've run our luck out
already. Did you see what happened to those planes?"

"The hell with the planes. We've got it good here. This I like. I like
it a lot. We'll stay."

"Okay," Frank replied hotly, "but talk for yourself. You're not making
Minna stay!"

Wilson's eyes narrowed. "I'm not? Look, buster--how about minding your
own goddam business?"

The vague feelings of disgust Frank had had now crystallized into words.
"I won't let you get away with it! You think I'm blind? Hauling her into
the back room every ten minutes! Don't you think I know why? You're
nothing but a damn sex maniac! You've got her terrorized until she's
afraid to open her mouth. She goes with us!"

Jim Wilson was on his feet. His face blazed with rage. The urge to kill
was written in the crouch of his body and the twist of his mouth. "You
goddam nosey little squirt. I'll--"

Wilson charged across the short, intervening distance. His arms went out
in a clutching motion.

But Frank Brooks wasn't full of knockout drops this time, and with a
clear head he was no pushover. Blinded with rage, Jim Wilson _was_ a
pushover. Frank stepped in between his outstretched arms and slugged him
squarely on top of the head with the telephone. Wilson went down like a
felled steer.

The scream came from Minna as she sprang across the room. She had turned
from a colorless rag doll into a tigress. She hit Frank square in the
belly with small fists at the end of stiff, outstretched arms. The full
force of her charge was behind the fists, and Frank went backward over
the bed.

Minna did not follow up her attack. She dropped to the floor beside Jim
Wilson and took his huge head in her lap. "You killed him," she sobbed.
"You--you murderer! You killed him! You had no right!"

Frank sat wide-eyed. "Minna! For God's sake! I was helping you