. "Believe me."

"Oh, Ken," Dorothea said, raising her head. "Do you ... do you mean it?"

"Sure I mean it," Malone said. "What have I been saying? The Government
needs these kids."

"The Government?"

"It's nothing to worry about," Malone said. "Just go on home now, all
right? I'll call you tomorrow. Late tonight, if I can. All right?"

"No," Dorothea said. "It's not all right. Not at all."

"But--"

Boyd hissed: "Malone!"

Malone ignored him. He had a bigger fight on his hands. "I'm not going
home," Dorothea announced. "I'm going in there with you. After all," she
added, "I can talk more sense into Mike's head than you can."

"Now, look," Malone began.

Dorothea grinned in the darkness. "If you don't take me along," she said
quietly, "I'll scream and warn them."

Malone surrendered at once. He had no doubt at all that Dorothea meant
what she said. And, after all, the girl might really be some use to
them. And there probably wouldn't be much danger.

Of course there wouldn't, he thought. He was going to see to that.

"All right," he said. "Come along. Stick close to us, and don't worry
about the darkness. We can see, even if you can't, so let us guide you.
But be quiet!"

Boyd whispered: "Malone, what's going on?"

"She's coming with us," Malone said, pointing to Dorothea.

Boyd shrugged. "Malone," he said, "who do you think you are? The Pied
Piper of Hamelin?"

* * * * *

Malone wheeled and went ahead. Opening the door, he played his I-R
flashlight on the room inside and he, Boyd and Dorothea trailed in,
going through rooms piled with huge boxes. They went up an iron stairway
to the second floor, and so on up to the roof.

They moved across the roof quickly under the cold stars, to the wall of
the warehouse, which was two stories higher than the building they were
on. Of course, there were no windows in the warehouse wall facing them,
except on the top story.

But there was a single, heavy, fireproof emergency exit. It would have
taken power machinery or explosives to open that door from the outside
without a key, although from the inside it would open easily.

Fortunately, Malone had a key.

He took it out and stepped aside. "Give that lock the works," he
whispered to Boyd.

Boyd took a lubricant gun from his pocket and fired three silent shots
of special oil into the lock. Then he shot the hinges, and cracks around
the door.

They waited for a minute or