A naked savage raised his head from behind what might, two hundred years ago, have been a cement park-bench, a hundred yards away. Reader Stamford Rawson promptly killed him and began reloading. "I think you're right, Tenant," he said. "The Scowrers have never attacked in bands like this before. They must have had a powerful reason, and I can think of only one." "That's what I'm beginning to think, too," Verner Hughes agreed. "At least, we have eliminated the third of your possibilities, Tenant. And I think probably the second, as well." Altamont wondered what they were double-talking about. There wasn't any particular mystery about the mass attack of the wild men to him. Debased as they were, they still possessed speech and the ability to transmit experiences. No matter how beclouded in superstition, they still remembered that aircraft dropped bombs, and bombs killed people, and where people had been killed, they would find fresh meat. They had seen the helicopter circling about, and had heard the blasting; every one in the area had been drawn to the scene as soon as Loudons had gone down the river. Maybe they had forgotten that aircraft also carried guns. At least, when they sprang to their feet and started to run at the return of the helicopter, many did not run far. * * * * * Altamont and Loudons shook hands many times in front of the Aitch-Cue House, and listened to many good wishes, and repeated their promise to return. Most of the microfilmed books were still stored in the old church; they were taking away with them only the catalogue and a few of the more important works. Finally, they entered the helicopter. The crowd shouted farewell, as they rose. Altamont, at the controls, waited until they had gained five thousand feet, then turned on a compass-course for Colony Three. "I can't wait till we're in radio-range of the Fort, to report this, Jim," he said. "Of all the wonderful luck! And I don't yet know which is more important; finding those books, or finding those people. In a few years, when we can get them supplied with modern equipment and instructed in its use--" "I'm not very happy about it, Monty," Loudons confessed. "I keep thinking about what's going to happen to them." "Why, nothing's going to happen to them. They're going to be given the means of producing more food, keeping more of them alive, having more leisure to develop themselves in--" "Monty; I saw the Sacred Books." "The deuce! What were they?" "It. One volume; a collection of works. We have it at the Fort; I've read it. How I ever missed all the clues--You see Monty, what I'm worried about is what's going to happen to those people when they find out that we're not really Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson." THE END End of Project Gutenberg's The Return, by H. Beam Piper and John J. McGuire