"Since I left New York on this mission, I was followed," Wales told her. He described the shadowy, unseen trailers who had tracked him until he fell into the hands of Lanterman's men. "Now, my mission to find Lee could well have been known. Only reason anyone would follow me is to make sure I _didn't_ find him. So those who tracked me must be some of the 'they' who took Lee. The Brotherhood of Atonement, it seems sure." He paused, then went on. "So my shadows must know what happened to Lee, where he is. If I could catch one of them, make him talk--" "We could find out what they've done with Lee!" Martha exclaimed. Then her excitement checked. "But you said they must have lost your trail, at Pittsburgh." He nodded. "Sure. But what would they do, when they made sure I wasn't with Lanterman's band in Pittsburgh, that I'd slipped away? Knowing that I was headed for Castletown in the first place, they'll come _here_ to look for me. And I'll be waiting for them." A little pallor came into Martha's face. "What are you going to do, Jay?" "I'm going to set up a little ambush for them, right down in the center of town," he said grimly. "You'll be quite safe here, until--" * * * * * She interrupted passionately. "No. I'm going with you." He started to argue, and then he saw the desperation in her eyes. "Jay, you don't know what it's been like to be so alone. I'm not letting you go without me." He said, after a moment, "Maybe you're right. But we'd better get started. Do you have a gun?" She produced an ancient revolver. "I found this, in the house next door. I wanted something--I was so afraid the Brotherhood would come here--" Wales nodded. "We'll get you something better than that. Now listen, Martha. You must keep silent, you must do what I say. There's no one at all to help us, if things go wrong." She nodded. He opened the back door and they went out of the old house, and across its ragged back yard to the alley. Wales, his gun in his hand, led the way down the alley. Where it crossed Grant Street, he stopped, stuck his head out and peered both ways. The street of old houses was still and dead. The maples along it drowsed in the dying sunlight. A little breeze whispered, and was quiet again. Wales and Martha darted across the street fast, into the shelter of the alley again. As they went down it, hugging the backs of buildings, heading toward the Diamond, Wales had again that fantastic feeling of unreality. He remembered every foot of these blocks. How many times, carrying a newspaper route as a boy, he had short-cutted along this alley. And how would a boy dream that he would come back to it someday, when the familiar town lay silent and empty before approaching world's end?