t, gov'nor," he said. "They go crazy for a while,
but give 'em a few hours and they stop most of it. I figure you know
where all the scratch went?"

"Sure--guns from Earth! The damned fools!"

"Yeah. But not fools. Just bloody well-informed, gov'nor. Earth's
sending a fleet--got official word of it. No way of telling how big, but
it's coming."

It gave Gordon something to think about while they patrolled the beat.
But he had enough for a time without that. The mobs left the section
alone, apparently scared off by the organized group ready and waiting
for them. But every street and alley had to be kept under constant
surveillance to drive out the angry, desperate men who were trying to
get something to hang onto before everything collapsed. He saw stores
being broken into, beyond his beat; and brawls as one drunken, crazed
crowd met another. But he kept to his own territory, knowing that there
was nothing he could do beyond it.

By midnight, as Izzy had promised, the people had begun to quiet down,
however. The anger and hysteria were giving way to a sullen, beaten
hopelessness.

Honest Izzy finally seemed satisfied to turn things over to the regular
night men. Gordon waited around a while longer, but finally headed back
to Mother Corey's place.

Mother Corey put a cup of steaming coffee into his hands. "You look
worse than I do, cobber. Worse than even that granddaughter of mine. She
was looking for you!"

"Sheila?" Gordon jerked the word out.

"Yeah. She left a note for you. I put it up in your room." Mother Corey
chuckled. "Why don't you two get married and make your fighting legal?"

"Thanks for the coffee," Gordon threw back at him. He was already
mounting the stairs.

He tossed his door open and found the letter on his bed.

"I'd rather go to Wayne," it said, "but I need money. If you want the
rest of this, you've got until three tonight to make an offer. If you
can find me, maybe I'll listen."

The torn-off front cover of the notebook accompanied the letter. But it
was a quarter after three already, he was practically broke--and he had
no idea where she could be found.

Chapter X

MARRIAGE OF CONVENIENCE

Bruce Gordon jerked the door open to yell for Izzy while he tucked the
bit of notebook cover into his pocket. Then he stopped as something
nibbled at his mind; the odor Gordon had smelled before registered. He
yanked out the bit of notebook and sniffed. It hadn't been close enough
for