"They want to make peace," Martha shouted ringingly into the tumult. "We've won, girls! Sally out tonight and don't come in until the last dog is hung! We'll show them what it means to challenge the massed U.D.D.-ers of America!" * * * * * The state police cordon kept the 2200 block of Euclid Avenue free of reporters and idle gapers. The state car drove up at 10:00 A.M. and parked under the oak tree. Mr. Cherkassov and the two TASS men got out. Mr. Cherkassov was stocky and crop-haired in a blue suit. His broad, high-cheekboned face, with snub nose and an inward tilt about the eyes, managed to seem both alert and impassive. Carrying a pig-skin briefcase, he led the way to the Stonery front door. He stepped on the doormat and pressed the bell. The doormat whirred and writhed under his feet and he stepped back hastily. Martha Stonery, regal in maroon silk, four-inch cameo and piled gray hair, opened the door. "Don't be afraid of the doormat, Mr. Cherkassov--you _are_ Mr. Cherkassov, aren't you?" she asked sweetly. He nodded, looking from her to the doormat. "Your weight presses something and the little brushes spin around and clean your shoes," she explained. "I expect you don't have things like that in Russia. But _do_, please, come in and sit down." The three men stepped carefully across the mat on entering. In the oak-paneled living room, Paula Hart waited in black wool and pearls with Monica Flint, who wore white jade and green jersey. Martha and Mr. Cherkassov made introductions back and forth and the men bowed stiffly. Then Martha sat down flanked by her aides on the gray sofa facing the picture window. The men sat in single chairs and rubbed their polished black shoes uneasily against the deep-pile gray rug. "Madame Stonery, I have come to justify moondog," Mr. Cherkassov said. His voice was deep and controlled. "Two wrongs don't make a right, Mr. Cherkassov," Martha said, raising her head. "You needn't bring up Hiroshima. We already know about those thousands of little black and white spaniels. Besides, I saw a _Life_ picture where you sewed a little dog's head to the side of a big dog's neck." Mr. Cherkassov looked at his stubby fingers and hid them under his briefcase. Paula and Monica nodded accusingly and one TASS man made a note. "We do not believe it is a wrong when a greater value prevails over a lesser," Mr. Cherkassov said. "Moondog sends us information that will hasten the time of safe space-travel for humans." "And who might _you_ be, to say which value is greatest? Space travel is moonshine, just _moonshine_!" "I do not understand your word, madame. If you mean impossible, I must point out that moondog has already crossed space." Martha clasped her hands in her lap. "That's what I mean, grown men and such _silliness_, and the poor little dog has to pay."