to action;
the window slid upward and the dummy appeared. He turned the dial to
Albany.

"I want New York Division, Sub-station F, Loyalist Registration," he
called. "Give me Z numbers of the lottery, please."

"No numbers will be given out until Horometer 13," the dummy boomed.

"But I tell you I must know immediately!" Kay pleaded frantically.

"Stand away, please!"

"I've got to know, I tell you!"

"We are now electrified. Last warning!"

"Listen to me. My name's Kay Bevan. I--"

A mighty buffet in the chest hurled Kay ten feet backward upon the
ground. He rose, came within the electric zone, felt his arms twisted
in a giant's grasp, staggered back again and sat down gasping. The
window went down noiselessly, the dummy swung back into place. Kay got
upon his feet again, choking with impotent rage.

All about him men and women were milling in a frantic mob. He broke
through them, went back to where his plane was standing. A minute
later he was driving madly toward the district airport in New York
within three blocks of Ruth's apartment.

* * * * *

He dropped into a vacant landing place, checked hastily, and rushed
into the elevator. Once in the upper street, he bounded to the middle
platform, and, not satisfied to let it convey him at eight miles an
hour, strode on through the indignant throng until he reached his
destination. Hurling the crowds right and left he gained the exit,
and a half-minute later was on the upper level of the apartment block.

He pushed past the janitor and raced along the corridor to Ruth's
apartment. She would be in if all was well; she worked for the
Broadcast Association, correcting the proofs that came from the
district headquarters by pneumatic tube. He stopped outside the door.
The little dial of white light showed him that the apartment was
unoccupied.

As he stood there in a daze, hoping against hope, he saw a thread
hanging from the crevice between door and frame. He pulled at it, and
drew out a tiny strip of scandium, the new compressible metal that had
become fashionable for engagement rings. Plastic, all but invisible,
it could be compressed to the thickness of a sheet of paper: it was
the token of secret lovers, and Kay had given Ruth a ring of it.

It was the signal, the dreaded signal that Ruth had been on the
lottery list--the only signal that she had been able to convey, since
stringent precautions were taken to prevent the vic