The pudgy man spoke, in a high falsetto whisper. "You're dead, right now. Whatever happens to me, _you_ won't get out of Castletown." "Don't worry about us," Wales advised. "Worry about yourself. Where's Lee Kendrick?" The pudgy man looked at him calmly. "I don't know what you're talking about." Martha whispered, with astounding fierceness, "Make him tell, Jay." * * * * * Wales first searched their prisoner. He found no papers on him at all, nothing but clips for the gun. Pudgy seemed quite unperturbed. "All right, where's Kendrick?" Wales said again. Pudgy said, "You talking about the Kendrick that discovered Doomsday coming? _The_ Kendrick? How should I know?" "Who are you working for?" Wales persisted. "Who took Kendrick, who sent you to follow me here from New York? The Brotherhood?" Pudgy looked at him in blank surprise. "Huh?" "The Brotherhood of Atonement," Wales said. "You're one of them, aren't you? They've got Kendrick, haven't they? Where?" Pudgy's face split in the beginnings of a guffaw. Wales raised his pistol quickly, and the man choked off the laugh. But his sides shook. "Me one of that Brotherhood? You're funny. You're really funny, Wales." "So you know me," Wales snapped. "You know all about me, you came trailing me when I started to hunt for Kendrick. Who sent you?" A queer gleam came into the eyes of Pudgy, but he remained silent. Something in that look made Wales whirl around. Their prisoner sat facing the store-front. Out there in the dusk, one of the two other men had come back into the Diamond. "Martha," whispered Wales. "Yes?" "Take your shotgun. If he tries to open his mouth, bring it down on his head." Promptly, she picked up the shotgun and stood with it raised. Pudgy looked up at her, and winced. Wales crept back to the front of the store and looked out. The other man out there seemed worried, holding his Venn gun high and looking slowly all around the Diamond. That he was worried by Pudgy's absence, Wales knew. The man out there got into cover behind the pedestal of the monument, and waited. Waiting, obviously, for the man with the car to come back. Minutes passed. The twilight was deepening into the soft May darkness. Suddenly Martha whispered. "Jay!" He swung around. Her face was a queer white blur in the darkness. "What?" "I hear singing," she said. "Someone is singing, a way off." "Just the wind in the wires," he said. "There's no one in the whole town but us--and them. You keep your eye on that fellow, I think we're due for trouble soon." He waited again. From outside, he could hear the sound of the wind rising and falling. Then a strange conviction crept over him. It was not the wind. It was the rise and fall of distant voices, many of them. Now the breeze brought it through the night a little louder, now it ebbed back to a murmur. Carefully, Wales opened the door a crack to listen.