"We should've let them go on and die," said the stocky Hunt, drearily, "but I persuaded men to help me bring 'em back. We were careful against sickness! And we ... I ... locked them separate and I ... I hoped my daughter mightn't die of the Three City sickness. I even hoped that young man wouldn't die of the sickness they say we have that we don't notice and they die of. Then we heard your call to One City. We couldn't answer it, but we heard all you said, even to the bargain about the cow. And ... we'd heard of Med men who cured sickness. I ... hoped you could save Nym from dying of the Three City sickness or passing it in our city. My friends risked much to bring you here. But ... my daughter and the man have fled again." "And nobody's goin' to risk any more!" rasped the voice from the shadow of the cliff. "We held a council! It's decided! They're gone and we got to burn out the places they was in! No more! You don't head the Council any more, either! We decided that, too. And no Med man! The Council ruled it!" Calhoun nodded yet again. It is a part of fear, elaborately to ignore everything that can be denied about the thing feared. Which includes rational measures against it. This was a symptom of the state of things which constituted a Med Service emergency, because it caused needless deaths. Hunt made a gesture which was at once commanding and filled with despair. "I'll take the Med man back so One City can use him if they dare and not blame you for me taking him. I'll have to take the sledge--but he's used it so it'd have to be burned anyhow. You men be sure to burn your clothes. Three City'll be satisfied because I'm lost to balance for their man lost. The Med man will tell One City I'm drove out. You've lost me and my daughter too, and Three City's lost a man. One City'll growl and threaten, but they win by this. They won't risk a showdown." Silence again. As if reluctantly, one man of the party that had abducted Calhoun moved away from the sledge and toward the abysmally deep shadow of the cliff. Hunt said harshly: "Don't forget to burn your clothes! You others, get off the sledge. I'm taking the Med man back and there's no need for a war because I made the mistake and I'm paying for it." The remaining men of the kidnaping-party stepped off the sledge into the trampled snow, just here. One said clumsily: "Sorry, Hunt. Luck!" "What luck could I have?" asked the stocky man, wearily. * * * * *