BIDDY AND THE SILVER MAN

By E. K. JARVIS

A man came out of the sky and they took him and hanged him from the nearest tree thinking that they lynched a devil. But perhaps they crucified a saint instead—there in the beauty of the desert. And what place could be more worthy of being called a second Calvary?

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Fantastic February 1957.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

It was a typical blazing Arizona day. Pitiless sun distorting the desert and making Sage Bend look like a toy town off in the distance. Sage Bend and the surrounding desert were bone-dry, furnace-hot, and generally depressing, but there were compensations. Buck liked it and Biddy liked it because it was a country where a small crippled girl and a tiny burro could go almost anywhere they pleased without danger.

Biddy was twelve. Polio had struck during her tenth year necessitating a clumsy brace on her left leg. Thus it was a little difficult to play with the children of Sage Bend and so Biddy's father had brought Buck in from the Circle-7 ranch to be her companion.

Buck was a shaggy philosophical burro with ears almost as long as his legs. He was gentle, rugged, and small enough for Biddy to mount all by herself. Reliable, too. Buck would take Biddy anywhere she wanted to go but he insisted on getting home to the little corral behind the house at a reasonable hour so there was never any coming in after dark.

There were many places around Sage Bend where a child and a burro could go. Up in the foothills where Hoppy chased the bad men with Biddy and Buck racing along in front of the posse. Or to the caves and arroyos where an ogre or a giant sometimes captured a handsome prince and held him until Biddy and Buck came along to rescue him.

They knew all the fascinating and magical places, these two, and they were now headed for a flat next to King Arthur's castle where there would be jousting that afternoon. Biddy said, "We'll have to hurry, Buck. We mustn't keep Sir Launcelot waiting or he won't toss us his handkerchief as he goes into the lists."

Buck wig-wagged complete understanding with his ears and increased his speed not one iota. But he signified that there was plenty of time and that they would make it.

"It will be a wonderful tourney, Buck. With all the knights and ladies."

Buck agreed as he pattered up the gulch toward the ridges, his absurd little legs twinkling.

"A wonderful day and—wait a minute, Buck."

Buck stopped and flopped his ears while Biddy stared thoughtfully at a ridge.

Biddy stared for quite a while with a little frown between her blue eyes. Then she looked all around as though to reassure herself of her location. "There's a cave up there, Buck."

The news failed to stir any great interest in the burro.

"It wasn't there before. That's the place where Roy Rogers caught those rustlers and licked all four of them single handed. There were some rocks, but not any cave." Biddy looked about swiftly and a tiny prickle touched the back of her neck and then was gone. It was so quiet around here; so suddenly still and waiting-like.

But that was foolish. It was always still up here in the ridges except for a horny toad maybe scraping faintly on a rock or a little dust-devil stirring the dry grass as it stood on its tail and whirled.

Always quiet and she was being foolish. Roy or Hoppy or Davey Crockett wouldn't sit there half-afraid. Biddy said, "Let's go, Buck," and urged the burro to the left toward the rocks.

The cave was clearly visible from the foot of the big boulders and Biddy waited for some moments before she slid off Buck and began climbing the hill. Her leg brace impeded her progress somewhat and clicked every time she took a step.

"No, it couldn't have been here before," she said. "That spot was just a wall in the rock. That was where Roy Rogers fell back and was real groggy for a minute after the bad man smashed a ten-pound boulder right down on his head."

But obviously, there was no solid rock wall now; instead, a rectangular opening clean and even as though cut out of soft butter with a sharp knife. Biddy moved resolutely forward. Ten feet from the opening, she stopped and glanced back at Buck for moral support. Buck slapped at a fly with his left ear and closed his eyes and gave all the moral support he had. Biddy stiffened her little chin and went on.

It was a cave all right but the fact of its being was over-shadowed by what it contained. There was plenty of light to see without going inside and Biddy stood in the entrance and stared wide-eyed.

The main thing inside was a big box with funny knobs and dials on it; a box of some kind of shining metal that almost hurt your eyes when you looked at it. There were other things too—a lot of wires and a funny looking chair and a thing that might have been a loudspeaker of some kind maybe.

Biddy's mind raced. The Eastern Bloc? She turned her eyes up into the sky where she could just make out the space station up there a thousand miles away going around the Earth like another moon watching day and night to see to it the people and the children of the Western Bloc were always safe.

Maybe this box belonged to the Eastern Bloc. They had their own space station but Biddy was just ready to bet they wanted to do something to ours! Maybe this was some kind of a machine they sneaked in here and built that would blow up our station. A pretty mean thing to do but the Eastern Bloc did all kinds of mean things.

Biddy was suddenly frightened—real-frightened, not just play-frightened—because what if the men would come out of the cave or from someplace and tie her up and not let her go back and tell Pop and Mom what she'd seen? Then the space station would be blown up and not even Davey Crockett could help because this wasn't like on television where people got killed but not really. This was serious.

Biddy turned slowly, hoping now that the silence would stay as it was and not break into the sound of heavy boots coming after her. It was awfully hard but she went back down the hill slowly, because when she went fast her brace rattled and made a lot of noise.

It seemed like a very long time before she was on Buck, urging him out of the arroyo and back toward Sage Bend.

And she got a little annoyed at how calmly Buck took it, ambling along at his usual rate and not at all impressed by the danger. But then what could you do with a stupid old burro that didn't even know how to wear armor properly and always shook the plume off his helmet and ate it...?

Dan Parker was tired. He held the jeep on the rutty road from the Circle-7 to Sage Bend and thought of the cold bottle of beer that was waiting for him at home. This twelve-mile drive every morning and night was rough, but what could a man do? A man couldn't put his wife and kid in a bunkhouse with a dozen hands, and there was no other place for Jane and Biddy at the ranch. The house in Sage Bend wasn't so bad, though. The rent was cheap and there were a few friends Jane could talk to.

Dan wiped the dried sweat off his face and wondered why it cost so damn much just to live. Of course, in his case, there was a reason. A big reason. Biddy getting hit with polio had cleaned him out and put him in debt. Not that he begrudged it of course. She was alive and that was the main thing. That damned brace cut him every time he looked at it, but she was alive and healthy again. He had no complaints even if it took him the next ten years to pay off.

He was lucky in a lot of ways. Being foreman at the Circle-7 paid little enough but it was still better than an ordinary cow hand's pay. And young Davey getting hit with polio in spite of all the serums about the same time it had clubbed Biddy down. Funny how bad luck for some was good luck for others. Davey getting hit was tragedy for the boy and for old Sam Taber, his father. But it had been good luck for Dan Parker because if Davey hadn't been crippled he'd be foreman himself and Dan Parker getting straight hand-money. Yeah, bad luck for some—good luck for others. Not that he gloried in Davey's misfortune, but a man had to look out for his own and the cards had just fallen that way.

Sage Bend came into sight and as Dan approached, he saw a plodding figure in the middle of the road moving in the same direction. The sight irritated Dan. Even when he got close enough to see the white cane tapping on ahead of the shuffling feet, he was still irritated.

Why did Art Haney have to be like that? He was blind, sure, and everybody felt sorry for him, but he didn't have to rub it in your face. He could hear the jeep coming and could move over out of the way but no, he had to stay smack where he was until you pulled to a dead stop and honked. Then he would jump as though you'd just missed running him down and cower on the side of the road. Didn't want anybody to miss the fact that he was blind and helpless—as if they could!

Dan stopped and honked and watched Art put on his pathetic little act and felt guilty because it didn't stir him. Maybe he was hardened, but what the hell? Every time you came down the road. There's a limit.

Dan called, "Hi Art."

The answering voice had a falsetto that sounded faked. "Oh, it's you, Dan. Blind man can't tell a thing like that."

"Want a ride into town?"

"No—no. I'll hobble along and make it myself. A blind man doesn't like to think he's dependent on everybody. Tries to do the best he can."

"Okay. See you later."

"Sure, but I won't see you, Dan. Could of once, but can't any more."

Dan Parker jammed down the gas pedal and the jeep rammed forward kicking up a cloud of dust that left Art Haney coughing. Dan immediately felt guilty. Mean trick, but he hadn't done it on purpose. Just thoughtless.

He rolled the jeep into town and lifted a hand as he passed the jail. Cecil Bates, sheriff of the county, lifted one in return but his expression never changed. Sour—that was the word, Dan thought. Cecil felt himself wasted in a country sheriff's job. Fancied himself of big-town caliber, but all he did was park on a chair in front of the jail and think about it. Sour was the word all right. In fact, Dan thought, sour was the word for the whole damned town of Sage Bend. Come to think of it, there wasn't a happy person in the place.

Except Biddy.

Dan parked the jeep and went in the house and got a bottle of beer out of the refrigerator. He went on through and out into the backyard where Jane was taking down the last of the wash. Damn—it seemed women were always washing. Come home and everytime they were hanging clothes or taking them down.

He stopped in the doorway and looked at Jane. Looked to actually see her which was not the same as the ordinary looking people usually did. There was a stoop in her slim shoulders and something—well, something in the way she carried her body. Tired-like. She'd been so deuced pretty when he'd married her; so pretty he'd just had to have her and that was the only way. Why kid himself? He'd married her because he wanted her and love, if there really was such a thing, had come afterward. But it had come; or maybe it was habit. Anyhow, he couldn't think of life anymore except in terms of Jane and Biddy.

But it would be nice if just one more time—just one night—there could be the old spark, the old breathless fire that flamed so briefly and had now smouldered down into a sort of tired consideration—an habitual companionship with each knowing the other's habits and likings and responding automatically.

But what the hell? What could you expect in this day and age? With tension for breakfast and dinner and supper. With those two space stations floating around up there waiting to blow the world up. Watching day and night. There was little room to think of anything else.

Jane turned with an armful of clothes and saw him. Her smile was a quick up-turning of her lips and then it was gone. "Home, dear? Have a hard day?"

"Rough. We moved three hundred head in from the north range to the loading platforms."

Jane pushed past him and laid the clothes on the kitchen table. She straightened and pushed a wisp of hair out of her eyes. "Three hundred head. That's quite a few. What are they worth apiece, Dan?"

"Around two hundred and fifty dollars probably."

"And with all that money old Sam can't give you a little raise. I think it's a sin."

"It isn't clear money, hon. Not by any means."

"All the same—"

Dan caught her as she tried to pass and kissed her. She responded after a fashion but when it was over it was over. "I've got to get the potatoes on. You go sit on the front porch, I'll call you."

"Where's Biddy?"

Jane stopped with a gesture of frustration as though this was something she'd forgotten. "Oh, that child! I sent her to her room, Dan."

"To her room? Why?"

"I just had to. We've got to do something about that imagination of hers. She can't separate reality from fantasy anymore."

"What was it this time?"

"Something about a cave up in the ridges with a big metal box in it. The Eastern Bloc is going to use it to blow our station out of the sky."

Dan shrugged. "Kids live in their own world, honey. Isn't sending her to her room a little rough?"

"I had to. She was going down to tell Cecil Bates about it. Can you imagine what—?"

Dan laughed. "He'd have probably arrested her for spreading rumors. I'll take her out on the porch and talk to her, okay?"

"Just so you keep her out of my hair until I get supper ready."

Dan opened the door of Biddy's room and said, "Hi, pigeon. Hot in there?"

"Not bad, Pop. There's a breeze through the window."

The gruesome leg brace smote him as usual and his inward tightening against it was so habitual that he hardly noticed the slight tension of his chest muscles. He said, "How about coming out on the porch and telling me all about this cave?"

"Is it all right with Mom?"

"Uh-huh. I fixed it."

"She told you about the cave and the box?"

"Just mentioned it in passing. Told me to get the details from you."

He picked her up and carried her out front where they sat down side by side on the front steps and looked out across the miserable little desert town. Dan's eyes fell on the tavern front over near the depot. There would be at least half a dozen drunks in there and after sundown there would be foremen from the ranches roundabout talking them into going back to work.

"The cave wasn't there before."

"It wasn't?"

"No. It's the place I always played Roy Rogers, but I went there yesterday and there was a door in the rock."

"The door was open?"

"Wide open. I went inside and there was a big shiny box in there."

Maybe a man was better off in the city—in the war plants. "Well what do you know about that!"

"Pop! You aren't listening."

"Oh yes, I am."

"But you don't believe me."

"I sure do."

"The box had a lot of tubes and dials on it."

Of course, now they'd taken the profit out of war there wasn't much more money there either unless you worked fifteen hours a day. "Was Roy there waiting for you?"

"Pop! It wasn't make believe! The box was really there and the Eastern Bloc is going to use it to wreck our space station."

"They'd better not!" That was another thing. If the blow ever fell and all the brains thought it was sure to, a man had better have his family as far from a city as possible.

"I thought maybe they would capture Buck and me so we couldn't tell on them but there wasn't anybody there. We got away all right."

Not that it would do much good. The radiation would get everybody eventually. Maybe it would be better to be killed quick and get it over with.

"Pop—I'm not fibbing to you—"

Dan roused himself from his somber thoughts. "I know you're not honey. Listen, let's go out and give Buck some water and about that time Mom will have supper ready. What do you say?"

Biddy sighed. "All right Pop...."

The sun blazed down on the desert just as it had yesterday and would do tomorrow. Biddy sat on the dozing Buck and looked across the rocks at the place she'd first seen the doorway. It had taken a lot of courage to come back here after being so scared before and after nobody had believed her. They'd said there hadn't been any door at all—that she'd only been make-believing.

And maybe—just maybe—they had been right, because there wasn't any door there now.

Biddy urged Buck on up the slope. She went fearfully at first, then with more courage because everything looked very quiet and peaceful, really. Maybe the horrid people from the Eastern Bloc had realized how silly it was—trying to blow up our station—and had packed up and gone home. It wasn't scary at all now. Biddy urged Buck right up to the wall and he stood there with his eyes half-closed catching a nap. And that was good because you couldn't fool animals about people. If there had been anyone around, Buck would have known, all right.

"Hello, little girl."

A chill went through Biddy. Not the cold kind, the tickly kind, as she turned and saw the man. Buck turned and saw him too and then went back to sleep.

The speaker was a man and Biddy wondered how on earth she could have missed him. He was sitting on a rock beside the place the doorway had been and while Biddy wanted to be scared and thought she ought to be scared, she wasn't able to feel that way about the man at all.

He got up from his rock and stood there smiling at her. He was very tall—taller than Pop who was no shorty himself—and had a kind of yellow hair that was thick and curly. There seemed to be a shiny circle around the hair but then Biddy saw that was just the sun and the way the man was standing.

It was hard to say how old the man really was. He was about like Pop, but in some ways he seemed a lot younger than that and in some ways much older. It was very confusing. He was kind of slim but he had a lot of muscle too—probably the way Davey Crockett would look with his shirt off maybe.

Biddy raised one leg and the man said, "Need any help?"

"No—no I can make it all right."

"That horse seems to be built right to your size."

Biddy laughed. "Buck's not a horse."

"He's not? Or should I say she's not?"

This man was so funny. "Buck's a boy."

"Oh."

"And he's a burro, not a horse."

"Well what do you know about that? Can you imagine me calling him a horse? Will you pardon me?"

Biddy took a couple of steps toward the man, then stopped uncertainly. "I—are you—?"

"Why don't you come over here and sit down with me?"

"Is—is it all right?"

"I don't know why not."

"I thought maybe you were from the Eastern Bloc." That was foolish of course. Nobody as nice as this man could be from the horrid East.

"No. I'm not from there." The man's clear gray eyes were on Biddy's brace as she approached.

"Then where are you from?"

That seemed to take a little thought. "Well, let's say I'm from the sky bloc."

"There is a sky bloc?"

"Oh, yes. A very big, big one. After all, the sky is very big isn't it?"

"Yes, that's right. But what are you doing here?"

That was obviously an even tougher one to answer. "Oh, I've got a little job to do."

"You aren't going to blow up our space station, are you?"

"No, that is, I hope not."

"You mean that maybe you will?"

The man's smile said everything was going to be all right and because little girls understood smiles and believed them even more than words, it wasn't necessary to go into the subject any further. "What's your name?"

The man said some funny word that Biddy couldn't understand. She laughed and he laughed too and then said, "Why don't you call me Joe? That's a nice easy name to remember."

"It's a nice name. Do you live in the cave there where the shiny box is?"

The smile left Joe's face. "You were inside the cave?"

"Yesterday. You left the door open."

"Yes. I'm staying there for a while." Joe changed the subject quickly. "What's the matter with your leg?"

"I had polio."

"Polio? You were sick?"

"Yes, I was very sick, but I didn't die, so I was very lucky. I only had my leg get so I can't use it."

"Only that, eh?" Joe mused and seemed intensely interested in the brace. "What a crude conception of efficiency," and when Biddy asked what? he said, "Oh nothing. May I look at that mechanism?"

"You mean my brace?"

"Yes."

Biddy came close and the man concentrated on the brace. Except that Biddy thought he was more interested in her leg. His hands were very gentle and then he looked up suddenly and said, "How would you like to see the things I have inside the cave, child?"

"You can call me Biddy if you want to. My name is Ruth but Biddy's my nickname."

"It's a nice one. Let's go inside."

Joe had a small thing on his shirt and it was only when he reached up and touched it and the door of the cave swung open that Biddy noticed the peculiar way he was dressed. And it was strange, she thought, that she hadn't even seen the tight-fitting silver colored shirt and the pants that were silver too and almost like skin they were so tight to his legs. But even in noticing them now, Biddy didn't say anything because they really weren't strange at all. Not when Joe wore them.

Joe took her hand and led her into the cave. He said, "Now don't be afraid. None of this is made to hurt little girls."

"What's it for?"

"It's called a primary relay station."

"Like our space station?"

"No—not exactly. This station hasn't any guns. At least it hasn't the kind of guns you know about."

"I'm glad. I'm afraid of atom and hydroshells. They kill people and poison them and make them suffer."

"This station doesn't do that. It reaches out into space and brings in all kinds of power. It's a magnet, you might say."

"What are you going to do with the power you bring in, Joe?"

"Now that's a very interesting question." Joe smiled. "Maybe we'll tickle little girls with it."

Biddy laughed. "You're just joking with me."

"No, I'm not. Tell you what we'll do. Suppose I give you a little sample?"

"That would be fun."

Joe seemed to be wondering about the machine in the cave with one part of his mind and talking to Biddy with the other. Not wondering exactly, but kind of like Pop when he tried to rig the jeep up to pull the big rock out of the backyard by just turning the back wheels. Pop had done it too. He was smart about making things do the things they hadn't been built to do and Joe looked as though he was trying to do the same thing with his machine.

Joe said, "Why don't you sit right here, Biddy—on this chair. Then we'll take this wire and fasten it there—so—and this one, here."

The wires were very shiny and Biddy thought they must be silver or maybe platinum. Joe gave her one to hold in her left hand and she asked, "When does the tickle start?"

"Right away now." Joe sat down in front of a board covered with switches and dials and studied for a while. Then he said, "Close your eyes, Biddy, and imagine you're far up in the sky—that Buck has wings and he's carrying you clear over the mountains. Just think that and don't open your eyes."

Biddy closed her eyes tight and imagined Buck with great big wings and she laughed in her mind because the wings were bigger than Buck was and he looked back at them and stamped his feet. But they worked and she felt Buck lift her right off the ground and up into the sky. They were really flying.

They sailed ever so far over the desert and over the purple mountains Pop said he'd take her to see some day. It was very peaceful and cool so high up in the air and such a funny feeling in her body. As though going up in the sky was really waking up and like all the people down on the ground were really asleep. So much warmth and feeling and tingley happiness came into her legs and arms and body that she could hardly hold it all. Hardly hold it all—hardly hold it....

"Wake up, Biddy."

Biddy opened her eyes. She was still sitting in the chair but all the wires were gone and Joe was standing there looking down at her and smiling. Biddy said, "Oh, I must have taken a nap."

"That's right. It was good for you. And now you'd better get along home or your parents will be worried about you."

"Why don't you come with me? You can have supper with us."

"Not tonight, Biddy. Some other time."

Biddy got up and they walked hand in hand to where Buck was waiting, Joe walking very slow because with her brace Biddy couldn't go very fast. Joe lifted her onto Buck and she waved good-bye as they went down the slope and away from the rocks. She waved again just as Joe and the cave and the wall went out of sight. She was sorry to see him disappear.

She got home a little late—Pop was already home—and Mom was cross. Mom said, "Biddy, if you stay away like this again, I'll just take that burro away from you."

Biddy knew Mom wouldn't of course, but it scared her just the same and she didn't say anything about Joe. That was just as well, she thought, as she washed up for supper. Mom and Pop didn't believe about the cave so they would not believe about Joe either and the nice ride up in the sky on Buck.

Pop was already at the table when Biddy came in and Mom was sitting down. Biddy hobbled across the room and Pop looked up and said, "You mustn't be late again, Biddy."

"I won't Pop."

Pop had looked back down at his food. Then he jerked his eyes up sharply and back to Biddy as she came to her chair and pulled it out and sat down.

Mom was putting potatoes on Biddy's plate and Pop just sat there and stared at her, motionless. He didn't say anything or do anything and finally Mom said, "Dan—what on earth's gotten into you? Something wrong with the meat?"

Pop laid his fork down and said, "Get up, Biddy."

"What, Pop?"

"I said, get up."

"But Pop, I didn't mean to be late. Don't take Buck away from me—please."

Pop frowned and made an impatient motion with his hand. "Oh, stop it! Just get up and walk around the table and let me look at you."

Mom was looking at Pop kind of puzzled as Biddy got up and did as she'd been told. Pop bent over and looked at her brace and her leg. He ran his hand over her leg, his frown getting deeper and his face more bewildered.

Suddenly he picked Biddy up and carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed. Without saying a word, he began unbuckling the brace and he was just lifting it away when Mom came in.

Mom said, "Dan—have you lost your mind?"

Pop gave her a quick, almost savage look and then turned back to Biddy. He picked Biddy up and put her on her feet and said, "Now I want you to walk over to the dresser."

Mom said, "Dan! For heaven's sake."

Pop barked back fiercely. "Can't you see it? Are you blind? Her leg's thicker and bigger. It isn't shorter than the other one anymore!"

Then Biddy walked straight over to the dresser as though there had never been anything wrong with her leg at any time in her short life. She touched the dresser and then took her hand away and laughed and walked back.

Pop bellowed, "Can't you see? Her leg's healed."

And Mom let out a kind of strangled cry and fainted dead away on the bed....

Dan Parker sat on a chair facing the lounge where Biddy sat close beside Jane. Dan leaned forward and said, "Now just once more, baby—tell us what the man did."

Jane said, "Dan! The child's exhausted. She's told us everything she knows."

"She might have missed something. He had some sort of a diathermy machine in this cave?"

"What's diathermy, Pop?"

"Never mind that. He fastened some wires from this machine to your leg and after a while you went to sleep. Can't you remember anything else?"

Biddy yawned. "Nothing except he was very nice and said he came from the sky bloc."

Jane lifted Biddy in her arms. "I'm going to put her to bed. Nothing can be done until morning anyhow. Poor baby!"

Dan sat staring at the wall until Jane returned. She came and laid a hand on his shoulder and he looked up and his thoughts were suddenly arrested. It was as though Jane had dropped years from her age. The old glow was in her eyes—a soft wonder—a new happiness.

The realization impressed him but was lost to the new anxiety that was swiftly rising in his mind. Jane said, "Isn't it wonderful, darling? I can't understand it, but I've seen Biddy's leg and—and I don't care how it happened. I don't care if the man in the hills is true or a part of her imagination. The cure is real—real—and I've never been so happy."

"I think he's genuine—he has to be—and tomorrow we'll find out about him. But—"

"But what, Dan?"

"I was just thinking—"

Jane sat down on his knee and put an arm around his shoulders. "Dan—you don't seem too happy about it. I don't understand why—"

Dan Parker looked at his wife and said, "There's another angle to it, Jane."

"Another angle?"

"If there is such a man as Biddy describes and he cured her deformity, then he can cure the deformities of others, too."

Jane was puzzled. "I suppose that's true."

"He could cure young Davey Taber."

"Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

"I suppose so, but then Davey will take over the foreman's job at the Circle-7—my job."

Jane got up from her husband's knee. There was horror in her look. "Dan, do you mean you'd let so small a thing as that influence you in—?"

Dan Parker sprang up also. "Small? You know we could not get along on a cow hand's salary. We'd starve to death. And I'm no good for anything but ranch work. It's all I know!"

"Dan—please!"

He turned suddenly contrite—somewhat ashamed, but in a way, he stuck to his guns. "Sure—I suppose it's rotten of me to think that way, but I've got you and Biddy to provide for. You two are my responsibility. It may not mean anything to you having people say Dan Parker can't support his family, but it means a lot to me!"

Jane looked at him quietly for a long moment before she said, "Dan, I—I just haven't any words. What you're thinking is almost evil—the way you feel about this—but I can't think of a logical answer or argument to show you where you're wrong. The thing's just—just beyond words."

Dan dropped to the lounge and sat staring at the floor. "I guess I'm a pretty rotten individual."

Jane spoke quietly. "The only thing I can say, darling, is that we'll always get along. We always have."

"Well, I can't do anything about it anyhow. Let's go to bed."

"Of course. You'll feel better in the morning, Dan. By that time you'll realize what's actually happened. Biddy's been made whole. There's been a miracle, darling!"

"That's right—a miracle...."

Biddy awoke very early. There was a funny little fluttery fear inside her and she lay for a while trying to find out what it was. There wasn't anything to be afraid of—nothing she could think of. Nobody had—

She sat up and moved both her legs off the bed and put her feet on the floor. Then she remembered that her left one was all right again and she forgot all about hunting for where the fear came from. She was too completely happy to worry about it.

She got out of bed and dressed and tiptoed through the living room, being very quiet. When she got outside there was a faint streak of dawn in the east and she almost laughed aloud at the wonderful feeling that came from the cool, sharp morning air, the dead predawn stillness, and not having to hobble along with the old brace on her leg.

Buck flopped his ears and seemed a little annoyed at having to get up so early but he finally agreed to come out of the corral and take Biddy up to the ridges. Even without any breakfast, so Biddy knew that regardless of his seeming sullenness he felt pretty good too.

Biddy didn't quite get out of town unseen. There was someone else up early too. Cecil Bates came slowly up the main street and as Buck approached him it was light enough for him to look at Biddy and say, "Wait a minute, honey. You forgot something."

"Good morning, Mr. Bates. No, I don't think so."

"Your brace, Biddy. How in hades did you get on that burro without it?"

"Oh, I don't need it any more. A man fixed my leg yesterday."

"A who—did what?"

"A very nice man up in the hills. He has a shiny box and he had me hold some wires and now my leg is all healed up again."

"What man are you talking about?"

"He has a cave up there. At first I thought he was from the Eastern Bloc and was one of our enemies. But he's from space or somewhere and he's very good."

Cecil Bates stared at Biddy's leg and then came close and put his hands on it. Biddy didn't like that very much and she kicked a heel into Buck's ribs and said, "I've got to go now, Mr. Bates. It's going to be a very nice day isn't it? Good-bye."

She rode away leaving the sheriff standing wide-eyed in the middle of the street with his mouth open. As she moved out of town she looked back uneasily, the nameless fear nagging at her again. She had the feeling of having done or said something wrong but she wasn't sure what.

The east brightened into fresh dawn as Buck pattered along toward the ridges. Biddy had never been up so early before and she thought it was wonderful but her happiness was dampened a little by the fact that she'd gone off without asking Mom. That was wrong, she thought, and maybe Mom would be angry. But Biddy's thoughts were mainly occupied with wondering why she had done it. She hadn't consciously wanted to deceive Mom, but something she could not really understand had made her sneak off so quietly.

The same thing that made her uneasy about telling Mr. Bates what had happened. Then the ridges were close and she could see the rocks and the place the doorway should be. The door was closed and Biddy guessed that Joe didn't get up very early either.

She rode as close as she could and was just about to call out his name when a pair of hands lifted her and swung her off Buck and set her on her feet. And Joe was saying, "Hello there, youngster. Up pretty early aren't you?"

Biddy wasn't even frightened at his appearing that way from nowhere. At least that was how he had seemed to appear. She said, "I woke up and I wanted to come out and thank you for fixing my leg."

"That wasn't necessary."

"Have you had breakfast?"

"Not yet. I was up early too and I was just sitting out here doing some thinking."

"Are you expecting to eat breakfast soon?"

"Right now as a matter of fact. You wait. I'll bring it out."

Joe touched the small thing on his shirt. The cave door opened and he went inside and came out very shortly with a tray that he set down on a rock.

Biddy looked at the tray and said, "That's awfully funny food."

"Funny?"

"Uh-huh. It doesn't look like any kind I ever saw before."

"Well you just try it and see if you don't like it."

Biddy picked up one of the little white sticks and bit off an end. She chewed it warily, then with relish. "It's very good. Where did you get it?"

"I brought it with me."

They ate in silence for a while, then Joe said, "Biddy, what do your mother and father think of the Eastern Bloc?"

Biddy looked up in surprise. "Why they hate it of course. Everybody hates the Eastern Bloc because they're mean and cruel."

"What do the people of your town expect to happen?"

"With the Eastern Bloc?"

"Yes."

"Everybody knows we'll have to fight them someday. We built a space station and so they had to go and build one too and they want to wreck our station so they'll have the only one. And when they do the big war will start."

"And I suppose the Eastern Bloc knows you want to wreck their space station?"

"Why they can't think that because we had one first and we could have stopped them from building one but we didn't because we aren't mean like they are."

"I see." Joe thought that over very carefully for a long time and then all the food on the tray was gone and Biddy said, "What's the sky bloc like, Joe?"

"The sky bloc?"

"That's where you said you came from."

"Oh, yes. Well, it's a little hard to describe. It's very big and I think probably you'd like it if you ever went there."

"Did they send you away?"

"Not exactly. They sent me down here to do something."

"What do you have to do?"

"I have to talk to some people."

"What people do you have to talk to?"

"I'm not quite sure yet. I haven't made up my mind."

"When will you make up your mind?"

Joe considered Biddy's questions gravely as though each one was very important. "I'm not quite sure. That machine in the cave isn't just to make little girl's legs well. It does other things. It tunes in on thought waves just the way your television set tunes in on pictures."

"You mean it tells you what people are thinking about?"

"In a way, it does. And after a while I'll look at the things the machine has recorded and then I'll decide what I have to do or say."

There was silence while Biddy's mind went off on another track. Pretty soon she said, "Joe, there's a boy named Davey—well, he isn't a boy, really, he's almost a man—and his leg is like mine was. He can't walk on it either."

"Does he live in Sage Bend?"

"No. He lives on the ranch where my Pop works. I think it would be awfully nice if you fixed his leg too."

"Perhaps I can."

Biddy clapped her hands and looked at Joe through bright eyes. "I think you're wonderful, Joe—just wonderful—and there's old Mr. Haney. He's blind, so maybe you could—"

Joe laughed. "Now wait a minute, Biddy. I'm no miracle man. I can't reconstruct people's minds."

"But Mr. Haney's mind is fine. It's just his eyes that are no good."

"I'm afraid you're wrong about that."

"Do you know Mr. Haney?"

"Not exactly. I've wandered around a little and I met him while he was taking a walk."

"Then you know how bad it is to be blind."