switch, using Mother Corey's scrawled
instructions.

He had vaguely expected to see more of Mars, but for eight hours there
was only the bare flatness and dunes of unending sandy surface and
scraggly, useless native plants, opened out to the sun. Marsport had
been located where the only vein of uranium had been found on Mars, and
the growing section was closer to the equator.

Then he came to villages. Again there was the sight of children running
around without helmets. He stopped once for directions, and a man stared
at him suspiciously and finally threw a switch reluctantly.

He was finally forced to stop again, sure that he was near, now. This
time, it was in what seemed to be a major shipping center in the heart
of the lines that ran helter-skelter from village to village. Another
suspicious-eyed man studied him. "You won't find Praeger on his
farm--couldn't reach it in that, anyhow," he said finally. Then he
turned up his Marspeaker. "Ed! Hey, Ed!"

Down the street, the seal of a building opened, and the big, bluff
figure of Praeger came out. His eyes narrowed as he spotted Gordon; then
he grinned and waved his visitor forward.

Inside, there was evidence of food, and a rather pretty girl brought out
another platter and set it before Gordon. He ate while they exchanged
uncertain, rambling information; finally, he got down to his errand.

Praeger seemed to read his mind. "I can get the stuff sent, Gordon. I'm
head of the shipping committee for this quadrant. But why in hell should
I? The last time, every car was looted in Outer Marsport. If they won't
let us get the oil and chemicals we need, why should we feed them?"

"Ever see starvation?" Gordon asked, wishing again someone else who'd
felt it could carry the message. He told about a man who'd committed
suicide for his kids, not stopping as Praeger's face sickened slowly.
"Hell, who wouldn't loot your trains if that's going on?"

"All right, if Mother Corey'll back up this volunteer police group. I've
got kids of my own.... Look, you want food, we want to ship. Get your
cops to give us an escort for every shipment through to the dome, and
we'll drop off one car out of four for the outlands."

Gordon sat back weakly. "Done!" he said. "Provided the first shipment
carries the most we can get for the credits I brought."

"It will--we've got some stuff that's about to spoil, and we can let you
have a whole train of it." He took the sack of credits and tossed