Kerry was startled. As was so often the case with law-abiding citizens, it had never occurred to him that the Night Police had to deal with such minor violations fairly often. In the news stories he printed such violations were a serious matter and the Night Police fast on the trigger. This particular officer had his neuron-gun in readiness, but otherwise he sounded like an argumentative daytime traffic cop. Lew completely lowered the front window. “I’m glad we ran into you,” he said. “My friends and I were playing cards at my house and we forgot the time. It was after curfew when we broke the game up, and when I tried to call up for a police escort, my phone was out of order and this guy’s wife is waiting for him. We called and called, but we couldn’t even get the operator. So we decided to go out and hunt one up.” The nightman glanced in the window, his disinterested eyes passing over Ben, sagging beneath the raincoat and slouch hat. He stared for an instant at Kerry in his neat snap-brim and overcoat. Then he holstered the neuron-gun. “Go ahead,” he said. “I’ll follow you.” They pulled up before Kerry’s house, and the policeman got out of the prowlie again and came to the car window. “I want to see you get in off the street. Go on in right now. And another time, keep an eye on the clock, will you?” Lew grumbled, “Helluva note when it’s a crime to drive your friends home--” The policeman was bored, but courteous. “It’s no crime to be on the street. But the law says you have to tell us beforehand for your own protection. That way we know who you are and where you’ll be, and won’t make the mistake of shooting you for a Pharig. You want me to radio for a permit for you to drive home?” Fallon looked at Kerry. “No thanks, we’ll spend the night here.” “Sure, glad to have you.” Kerry said, picking up his cue. The policeman lost interest and turned away. For his benefit, Lew said in a loud voice, “Our friend here’s had one too many. We’d better give him a hand or he’ll flop on his noggin.” Grudgingly admiring Fallon’s quick thinking, Kerry helped him hoist the sagging Ben out of the car. As they stumbled up the steps Kerry saw, behind the curtained window of the front door, the silhouette of a woman. He called out, and the door opened from inside. Swiftly they hauled Ben over the threshold. Ruth Donalson, her fingers still gripping the doorhandle, cried out in relief as Kerry came toward her. “Kerry! Oh darling, do you know what time it is? I was so frightened--” Her eyes fell on the sagging man and all the blood ebbed from her face. Lew Fallon moved, with a catlike swiftness, to slam the door before her scream could reach the ears of the departing policeman. The woman wailed “_Ben!_ What has _happened_ to you?” “Be quiet, Ruthie,” Kerry urged. Ruth subsided and drew back, her eyes wide with distress and pity. Ben’s lips moved in their frightful smile. “Anyway you recognized me, Ruthie,” he said. “That’s more than Kerry did.”