"I wish I knew," said Lindsay. "Ralph, stop it!" cried his wife. "Stop playing around the point. If you think I'm guilty, come out and say so!" "I'm ... not certain." "Have you no faith in me?" "Jenna, I--" "Folks, I'm stopping the buggy, and Ears and I will go over and see that thing right now. So far, there's been no mental disturbances, Jenna. That's the one thing I'm watching for." Lindsay looked at her. "I don't feel anything," she said. He wondered, again, and it was in his face. Her voice went out, and Grant answered. "If either of us feel anything--?" "I'll let you know," she promised. "Will you?" muttered her husband. "I will," she blazed at him. "Lindsay," snapped Grant, "get off of it! Jenna has no more treachery in her soul than I have, and I know my own heart!" * * * * * Ralph Lindsay calmed. Jenna looked at him and knew that the man outside was a sort of safety valve. Her husband was on the verge of breakdown, she guessed, and she was in a nervous state herself. The man out there had been holding the group together for hours, now. What would happen if he went--? "No!" she pleaded. But something inside of her knew that he would go, like the rest. "No!" she said with a half-scream. "'No' what?" asked Lindsay. "Grant mustn't!" Lindsay looked at her. "Isn't that his job?" he said flatly. "Yes, but--" "Perhaps you can fix it," said her husband cynically. She looked at him in disbelief. Was this the man she loved? Then he turned the knife in the wound. "Or," he said vindictively, "is that _your_ job?" "Lindsay, shut up, you fool!" Lindsay opened his mouth and then closed it again. "Trouble with you, Lindsay, is that you've a rankle or two in your system which should have been burned out a long time ago. You poor fool, don't you know that every man reaches a crossroad every day? There's not one of us who mustn't give up something to get something else. That's why we have asylums--for people who can't make up their minds, or people who dislike their decisions and try to go back, mentally. The normal man accepts his decision and uses that as experience in making the next one, instead of sitting there, spending his life wondering what if he'd taken the other road. Add up your life, Lindsay, and see whether the credits are better than the debits. You can't have everything!" Then the tone of his voice changed. "I'm leaving the battle buggy now, and Ears and I are approaching the thing. I have no fear of it, really. I'm ... curious. What makes these things go off? This, fellers, is a physical phenomenon, developed by human beings--" "Martians," corrected Lindsay.