"That's right, I guess. But aren't you worried about being up in the air like this?" The bartender shrugged again. "Not much I can do about it, is there? Want another shot?" "Mix it this time. A little soda. Is that the general attitude? Business as usual?" "I hear some business is picking up. Lot of people buying winter clothes, for one thing, weather turning cold the way it did. And Dabney Brothers--they run the coal and fuel oil company--got enough orders to keep them going night and day for a week." "That's fine. But when they eventually run out, like you, then what? Everybody freeze to death?" The bartender made a thoughtful face. "You got something there. Oh, hello, Ed. Kinda brisk tonight." It was Ed Clark, the newspaperman. Clark nodded to the bartender, who began to mix him a martini. "Freeze the ears off a brass monkey," Clark said, joining Don. "I have an extra pair of earmuffs if you'd like them." "Thanks," Don said, "but I think I'd better buy myself some winter clothes tomorrow and return yours." "Suit yourself. Planning to settle down here?" "I don't seem to have much choice. Anything new at your end?" Clark lifted his brimming glass and took a sip. "Here's to a mild winter. New? I guess you know we're in Pennsylvania now and not Ohio. _Over_ Pennsylvania, I should say. Don't ask me why, unless Hector Civek thinks Superior will get a better break, taxwise." "You think the mayor's behind it all?" "He has his delusions of grandeur, like a lot of people here. But I do think Hector knows more than he's telling. Some of the merchants--mostly those whose business hasn't benefited by the cold wave--have called a meeting for tomorrow. They want to pump him." "He wasn't exactly a flowing spout at Cavalier this afternoon when the people from the train wanted answers." "So that's where he was. They couldn't find him at Town Hall." "Where's it all going to end? If we keep on drifting we'll be over the Atlantic--next stop Europe. Then Superior will be crossing national boundaries instead of just state lines, and some country may decide we're violating its air space and shoot us out of the sky." "I see you take the long view," Clark said. "Is there any other?" Don asked. "The alternative is to kid ourselves that everything's all right and trust in Providence and Hector Civek. What is it with you people? You don't seem to realize that sixteen square miles of solid earth, and three thousand people, have taken off to go waltzing through the sky. That isn't just something that happens. Something or somebody's making it happen. The question is who or what, and what are you going to do about it?" The bartender said, "The boy's right, Ed. How do we know they won't take us up higher--up where there's no air? Then we'd be cooked."