Under him, in the belly of the squat tower of concrete and steel, a lion began to roar. The roar increased until the whole structure was shaking with the pressure of inconceivable energies seeking release. It became a whirling, roaring, thundering torrent of sound, a screaming pulse of incalculable force. * * * * * Madeline Brown went out into the garden. Her mother watched her go. Not much longer, her mother thought, would she have a daughter. The girl was blooming into womanhood. Within a year or two some young fellow would claim her. The boys were already becoming a bother with their phone calls. Madeline Brown's mother wondered how it would feel to be a grandmother. Lord, she was getting old. As from a great distance, she heard her daughter call. She rushed into the garden, recognizing the panic in that call. Madeline was gone. There wasn't a sign of her anywhere. There was only the night coming down. The mother's scream ripped through the gathering darkness. "Madeline!" There was no answer. * * * * * A winding river ran through Valley Park, and beside the winding river, in the star-sprinkled September night, John Bruce walked with Jennie West. The browning leaves were beginning to fall. Soon it would be autumn, soon it would be October, and after October, there would not be any Jennie West. There would be Mrs. John Bruce. John hoped that a clerk's salary would support her, but if it wouldn't, he'd darned well get another job. They stopped beside the river wherein the stars up in the sky were reflected, and it was in his mind to kiss her, but she was in a mood for teasing and she slipped away from him into the soft night. Laughing, he started after her. Suddenly she screamed in fright. "Jennie! What is it? Where are you?" John Bruce shouted. She didn't answer. He started running in the direction from which her scream had come. He couldn't find her. "Jennie!" The stars shifted, the trees bent, the earth twisted, heaved, and rolled. His body was cut with a million knives. There was a whistle in the air. Then there was silence. * * * * * Scoop Martin almost jumped out of bed. He could have sworn the telephone was ringing. But it wasn't. Or was it? Just another of those nightmares, he decided. He hadn't been sleeping well for over a month. It was hell not to be able to sleep. He laid down again. The telephone lifted him out of bed like a jumping-jack coming out of its box. "Who is it? Oh, I'm sorry, chief, I didn't know it was you. What do you want? Working for you, hasn't a man got any rights at all?--Huh?--I'm sorry. Huh!--_Thirty-eight people gone, just like they had walked off the face of the earth?_ And more reports coming in all the time? All right, all right; I'm on my way to Valley Park right now." * * * * *