Ruth Donalson was quick to recover her self-control. “But you are hurt. You’re sick! The front bedroom, Kerry, it’s closer. Let me go first and pull down the shades.” She hurried ahead, drawing down opaque blinds in a room of spacious dimensions. There was a moment of waiting. They heard the prowlie roar and drive away. Finally Ruth pulled down a blanket and let the two men ease Ben Thrusher down on the clean sheets. “What’s the matter with him, Kerry?” she demanded, while Lew Fallon bent to help Ben out of the bursting slippers. Ben Thrusher closed his eyes and said huskily, “Radiation burns. Don’t worry, Ruthie--I’m in no great pain. It’s swell to see you again. You go on to bed now. I’ve got to talk to Kerry while there’s still time.” “Do as he says, dear,” Kerry said. “If there’s any trouble I want you to be able to say honestly that you didn’t know anything about it.” Ruth started to leave, then turned in bewildered uncertainty toward Lew Fallon. Kerry, recalling himself, said: “Mr. Fallon--my wife. You remember Dr. Fallon, Ruthie?” Ruth nodded. “Yes, of course. And this young man is his son. I’m sorry we haven’t another guest room. But I’ll make up a bed right away--” “Please don’t bother,” Fallon protested. “I don’t think any of us will do much sleeping.” Kerry asked: “Are the kids in bed, dear?” “Yes, hours ago--or they ought to be,” Ruth said. The words were hardly out of her mouth when there was a sudden sound behind her. “Phil!” Kerry snapped, catching sight of a small freckled face in the doorway, “Go right back to bed this instant.” “I heard the police car, Daddy--” the little boy started to protest. But Ruth hurriedly blocked the door so that he could not see into the room, and pulled it shut behind her. Inside the room, Ben Thrusher said, “Ruthie hasn’t changed a bit, has she? Bless her! Phil must be quite a boy by now,” he added with a faint sigh. “Did you really want to see the kid, Ben?” Ben said quietly, “Sure. But I don’t want him to see _me_. Not like this.” Kerry said uncomfortably, “Ben, is there anything I can do for you, anything you need? Should I try to get hold of that doctor I mentioned?” But Ben’s eyes had slipped shut. Kerry drew up a chair, and sat motionless at his old friend’s side for some minutes. In the back of his mind he was still as concerned as ever about Ben. But the instincts of a newspaperman are a recognizable syndrome. Hunger, thirst and sex are minor tropisms compared to a newsman’s curiosity. He got up and joined Lew Fallon, who had drawn the shade a little aside and was looking out guardedly into the lighted street. He said “They’re not likely to look for him here. And now don’t you think you owe me some explanation of all this? I heard that the Army closed down the rocket project--about the time Ben was supposed to have been killed.”