"They're putting the cart before the horse," Johnny said. "At this stage of the game, the only land they could use really profitably for farming would be along the Niger. We're going to have to forest this whole area first, and in doing so, change the whole climate. _Then_ it'll...." Mellor interrupted him. "I'm as familiar with the program of the Sahara Reforestation Commission as you are, I am sure, McCord. I need no lecture. See that Miss Desage gets as sympathetic a picture of our work as possible. And, for heaven's sake, don't let anything happen that might influence her toward writing something that would change opinions either at home or in the Reunited Nations." "I'll do my best," Johnny said sourly. The other clicked off. * * * * * Pierre was handy with another can of beer, already opened. "So Mademoiselle Desage is to be handled with loving care." Johnny groaned, "And from what we've seen so far of Mademoiselle Desage, she's going to take quite a bit of loving care to handle." Outside, they could hear the beating of rotors coming in. Two helicopters, from the sound of it. Beer cans in hand they went over to the window and watched them approach. "Derek and the girl in one, Mohammed in the other," Pierre said. "Evidently our good captain left the messy work of butchering goats to his men, while he remains on the scene to be as available to our girl Hélène as she will allow." The copters swooped in, landed, the rotors came to a halt and the occupants stepped from the cockpits. The Arab ground crew came running up to take over. Preceded by Hélène Desage, the two men made their way toward the main office. Even at this distance there seemed to be an aggressive lift to the girl's walk. "Oh, oh, my friend," Pierre said. "I am afraid Mademoiselle Desage is unhappy about something." Johnny groaned. "I think you're right. But smile, Reuben, smile. You heard the city slicker's orders. Handle her with all the care of a new-born heifer." Hélène Desage stormed through the door and glared at Johnny McCord. "Do you realize what your men are doing?" "I thought I did," Johnny said placatingly. Derek and Mohammed Mohmoud entered behind her. Derek winked at Johnny McCord and made a beeline for the refrigerator. "Beer, everybody?" he said. Mohammed Mohmoud said, "A soft drink for me, if you please, Mr. Mason." Derek said, "Sorry, I forgot. Beer, Miss Desage?" She turned and glared at him. "You did nothing whatsoever to prevent them!" Derek shrugged. "That's why we went out there, honey. Did you notice how much damage those goats had done to the trees? Thousands of dollars worth." Johnny said wearily, "What happened?" He sank into the chair behind his desk. The reporter turned to him again. "Your men are shooting the livestock of those poverty-stricken people." Mohammed Mohmoud said, "We are keeping an accurate count of every beast destroyed, Mr. McCord." His dark face was expressionless.