d or been freed without everybody knowing it."

She said in surprise, "Been freed! That's something I didn't think
of. He'd set to work to make them understand that we humans are
intelligent and they ought to make friends with us. That would be the
first thing he'd think of. And they might set him free to arrange it."

Lockley said, "Yes," in a carefully noncommittal tone.

Another mile, this time on the hard road. It seemed strange to walk on
so unyielding a surface after so many miles on quite different kinds
of footing. It was almost sunset now. There was a farmhouse set well
back from the road and barely discernable beyond nearby growing corn.
The house seemed dead. It was neat enough and in good repair. There
were clackings of chickens from somewhere behind it. But it had the
feel of emptiness.

Lockley called. He called again. He went to the door and would have
called once more, but the door opened at a touch.

"Evacuated," he said. "Did you notice that there was a telephone line
leading here from the road?"

He hunted in the now shadowy rooms. He found the telephone. He lifted
the receiver and heard the humming of the line. He tried to call an
operator. He heard the muted buzz that said the call was sounding. But
there was no answer. He found a telephone book and dialed one number
after another. Sheriff. Preacher. Doctor. Garage. Operator again.
General store.... He could tell that telephones rang dutifully in
remote abandoned places. But there was no answer at all.

"I'll look in the chicken coops," said Jill practically.

She came back with eggs. She said briefly, "The chickens were hungry.
I fed them and left the chicken yard gate open. I wonder if the beam
hurts them too?"

"It does," said Lockley.

He made a light and then a fire and she cooked eggs which belonged to
the unknown people who owned this house and who had walked out of it
when instructions for immediate evacuation came. They felt queer,
making free with this house of a stranger. They felt that he might
come in and be indignant with them.

"I ought to wash the dishes," said Jill when they were finished.

"No," said Lockley. "We go on. We need to find some soldiers, or a
telephone that works...."

"I'm not a good dishwasher anyhow," said Jill guiltily.

Lockley put a banknote on the kitchen table, with a weight on it to
keep it from blowing away. They closed the house door. They'd eaten
fully and luxuriously of eggs and partly sta