Chandler's lawyer tapped him on the shoulder. "Last chance to change your mind," he said. "No. I'm not guilty, and that's the way I want to plead." The lawyer shrugged and stood up, waiting for the judge to notice him. Chandler, for the first time, allowed himself to meet the eyes of the crowd. He studied the jury first. He knew some of them casually--it was not a big enough town to command a jury of total strangers for any defendant, and Chandler had lived there most of his life. He recognized Pop Matheson, old and very stiff, who ran the railroad station cigar stand. Two of the other men were familiar as faces passed in the street. The forewoman, though, was a stranger. She sat there very composed and frowning, and all he knew about her was that she wore funny hats. Yesterday's had been red roses when she was selected from the panel; today's was, of all things, a stuffed bird. He did not think that any of them were possessed. He was not so sure of the audience. He saw girls he had dated in high school, long before he met Margot; men he worked with at the plant. They all glanced at him, but he was not sure who was looking out through some of those familiar eyes. The visitors reliably watched all large gatherings, at least momentarily; it would be surprising if none of them were here. "All right, how do you plead," said Judge Ellithorp at last. Chandler's lawyer straightened up. "Not guilty, Your Honor, by reason of temporary pandemic insanity." The judge looked pleased. The crowd murmured, but they were pleased too. They had him dead to rights and it would have been a disappointment if Chandler had pleaded guilty. They wanted to see one of the vilest criminals in contemporary human society caught, exposed, convicted and punished; they did not want to miss a step of the process. Already in the playground behind the school three deputies from the sheriff's office were loading their rifles, while the school janitor chalked lines around the handball court to mark where the crowd witnessing the execution would be permitted to stand. * * * * *