Mrs. Jane Huprich dropped her mop. Her varicose legs trotted across the wet lobby of the Jordon Building, and her flabby fat arms reached for the tall man with bright eyes who stood near the elevators. "It's me, Mom," the man cried. "Matt!" Mrs. Huprich cried. "Matt, baby!" "I got a full pardon, Mom," Matt said, stroking her tangled white hair. "Right from the ruling state official. You won't have to scrub floors anymore! I'm going straight, Mom. I'm a good mechanic now. They learned me a lot in the enclosure. Come on. I got a used truck outside, I bought cheap." Mrs. Huprich and son walked through the oddly twisted doors of the Jordon Building and into the gray twilight that awaited dawn. The _Honeychile Bakery_ truck waited too. * * * * * Gary Abston peddled his bicycle against the flow of cars carrying day-shift workers through the half-light. He whirled into Walnut Street, twisted a fresh copy of the _Morning Herald_ into a fiendishly clever knot, and hurled it in the general direction of a front porch that flashed past on his right. Never slowing, Gary threw the next paper entirely across the street. He chuckled as it cleared a picket fence. "Bang, bang!" he blurted. His red shirt, with a picture of a mounted cowboy on the back, ballooned in the early morning breeze. "Whoa!" Gary roared. He stopped, held the bicycle upright with one foot on the pavement. A tall, lanky, slightly bowlegged man with squinting luminous green eyes stood on the sidewalk. Gary looked at the man. The newspapers fluttered to the parkway. The bicycle clattered in the street. "Howdy, partner!" the tall man said. "The rustlers are headin' for the plateau! We'll take the short gash and head 'em off at the canyon!" "Ramrod Jones?" Gary chirped. "Here's the truck I haul Quizz-kid, the I.Q. Horse, in! Let's get after the rustlers!" Jones said. "Gee, I've seen all your pictures, Ramrod," Gary said. "_Silver City Raiders_, _Rustlers of Silver City_, _Silver City Rustlers_--" The great cowboy lifted the newsboy into the _Honeychile_ truck. * * * * * Pink and rose clouds drifted through a brightening sky as the _Honeychile Bakery_ truck careened along a narrow road badly in need of rock and grading. From the road, the truck rattled into a rutted track through dewy woods and skidded swaying to a stop at the side of a long, low, grassy hill. The tall creature dressed in black, red-spotted fur stepped from the cab. An opening appeared in the hillside. Four machines--dull metal eggs balancing on single tractor treads--rolled silently through the opening. Jointed steel arms darted from recesses in the eggs. One machine opened the truck doors. The creature walked up a ramp inside the hill and entered a shimmering metallic compartment. "Greetings, Eo. I have returned." Eo, who wore a suit of white fur, hummed, "None too soon, Za. We miscalculated dawn. What success?"