Brazier forebore the obvious retort and walked out onto the alkali flat. He stopped in its center and turned slowly, his eyes searching. They found nothing. He went to the edge of the flat and began circling it slowly. In four places there were marks in the dust. The marks formed the four corners of a huge square. Something might have set down there but you couldn't be sure. Probably dust-marks left by the swirling wind-devils that danced across the desert like miniature cyclones. "There's a town over there." Tom Brazier looked up quickly. Frank Brooks had come to stand by his side and was pointing off through a declivity in the rocks. "Damned if there isn't. Ever see it before?" "I think so. Isn't it the same town that lies about two miles off the Notched Butte road? The direction's about right." "Uh-huh." They were Security men from the camp forty miles southwest; Brazier the senior, gave the orders. As they started back, toward the jeep, he said, "Call in and make the report." "We aren't waiting?" "No. We'll move on to that town." "But we looked it over a week ago." Tom Brazier frowned. "I know, but--" "But what?" "There's something funny about that town--something wrong." "I couldn't see anything wrong with it." Tom Brazier's eyes were vague. "I had it checked." This surprised Brooks. "You didn't mention it before." "No. Nothing to mention, really. Something I can't quite put my finger on." "Looks like a pretty old settlement." "It is. It began as a mining town back in 1890. Some silver veins out in the hills. They ran out though and the place became a ghost town shortly afterwards." "A short life and happy one." "Short, anyhow. After the silver piddled out they all left except one or two old sand fleas. Since then it became a stop-over place for casuals." "But there must be forty or fifty people there now. Where did they come from?" "Drifted in the last few years I suppose." "If you have any suspicions, we ought to check. Even if they can't be from outer space." "I took a spot check," Brazier said grimly. "The old coot who runs the hotel came originally from El Paso. A couple of the old uranium hunters rang true on background." There was a pause as they climbed the slope. Then Brazier's frown deepened. "But it isn't the people--they're not what bothers me." "Then what?" Brazier's voice was sharp. "I don't know, damn it!" Brooks was surprised. "All right--all right. Don't bite me about it. I'll send the message...." * * * * *