The little ranch house had been perfectly untouched by the flood; it was well uphill on Sullivan Street. Representative Akslund worked comfortably through the day in the pine-paneled den. His work consisted mostly of conversation with Artie Chesbro while Sharon sat by and took notes by candlelight. Agreement was reached, a statement was signed, the old man yawned politely and shuffled off to the master bedroom. "You release this to the network," he said from the door. "The wire services can take it off the air. Good night." And Sharon and Chesbro raced to the school. "Damn it," said Chesbro peevishly. The mobile broadcasting truck was gone. They scurried around with flashlights; Sharon found a state trooper who thought he remembered seeing it heading down toward the roped-off area at the foot of River Street. The houses there were either down or abandoned, and the only permitted persons were national guardsmen, theoretically patrolling against looters. "Hello," said Mickey Groff. Sharon Froman jumped and turned around. She said, projecting throatily, "Mickey! Thank heaven. It's good to see you, Mickey. We were worried." Artie Chesbro caught her eye and slid away. Sharon said gaily, "Hasn't this been a day? We haven't slept ten minutes altogether since we saw you last. Luckily I'm a writer." She lifted her briefcase with a smile. "What's that got to do with it?" "We writers have our little secrets," she said. She put her hand on his shoulder, strolling him away. "Where'd Chesbro go?" "He'll be back," Sharon assured him. "Buy me a cup of coffee and tell me what's been going on." "Buying" a cup of coffee consisted of rinsing out a cup and ladling black coffee out of the tarry stew that had been bubbling over a gasoline flame for six hours. Groff let himself be steered and took a sip of the coffee. It was awful, but it was coffee. He said, "I've been helping out around here as best I could. So has Chesbro's wife, and so has Mrs. Goudeket. And you?" Sharon said with a quiet pride, "We've been doing our share, believe me. We've spent the whole day with Congressman Akslund. He just went to bed a few minutes ago." "Alone?" Mickey Groff asked. Sharon looked at him with cold resentment. "That's an unpleasant remark, Groff," she said thinly. "If that's the way you intend to talk, I'll leave you alone." She turned her back on him and walked haughtily away. Anyway, Artie Chesbro was already out of sight; there was no chance that Groff could find him before he reached the mobile unit. Poor Mickey Groff, thought Sharon with deep and sincere sympathy, he would take it hard when he heard Chesbro had Congressman Akslund's backing to head the Emergency Relief Committee. But he had had his chance. He had seen her first, but he had chosen to throw in his lot with Mrs. Goudeket and that fantastic Chesbro woman; and she had gone over to the better man. Poor Mickey Groff, Sharon thought comfortably. Maybe some other time....