They stirred uneasily. One muttered, “‘We don’t want no truck with the gov’ment. They’ll hang us f’r this.”

“If they can! They’re really not so strong. They ain’t got aroun’ to the South at all, ’cept f’r one or two visits. Way I figger it there’s only one gov’ment center to speak of, this town out in Oregon we heard about. We can find out ’zac’ly from the people we catch. They’ll tell!

“Now look. The gov’ment must deal with Southvale, one way ’r ’nother. There ain’t enough cars ’r roads, they must use planes. That means one’ll land in Southvale, sooner ’r later. The pilot steps out—an’ we’ve got us a plane. I ain’t forgot how to fly. A few o’ us ’r maybe we can ferry a lot, fly to Oregon an’ land at night near the house o’ some big shot, the President even, whoever he is. The plane’s pilot’ll tell us what we need to know. Those jets just whisper along, an’ anyway nobody expects air attack any more. We’ll be just another incomin’ plane if they do spot us.

“We capture our big shot, an’ find out from him where the atom bombs’re kept. There must be some stockpiled near the city, an’ our man’ll make a front f’r us to get at ’em. If he ain’t scared f’r himself, he’s got a family. We set the bombs an’ clear out. The city blows. No more gov’ment worth mentionin’. With what we’ve taken from the arsenals, we’ll hold Southvale an’ all this territory. We’ll be bosses, owners—kings! Maybe later we c’n go on an’ conquer more land. There’ll be no gov’ment t’ stop us.”

He stood up. His eyes caught the moonlight in a darkly splendid vision of power and destiny, for he was not, in his own estimate, a robber. Hardened by pain and sorrow and the long bitter fight to stay alive, he was more of a conqueror, with the grandiose dreams and at least something of the driving energy and transcendent genius of an Alexander or a Napoleon. He genuinely hoped to improve the lot of his own people, and as for others—well, “stranger” and “enemy” had been synonymous too long for him to give that side of it much thought now.

“No more hunger,” he breathed. “No more cold an’ wet, no more hidin’ an’ runnin’ from a stronger gang, no more walkin’ an’ walkin’ an’ never gettin’ nowheres. Our kids won’t die before they’re weaned, they’ll grow up as God meant they should, free an’ happy an’ safe. We c’n build our own future, boys—I seem t’ see it now, a tall city reachin’ f’r the sun.”

His lieutenants stirred uneasily. After some ten years of association they recognized their chief’s strange moods but could not fathom them. His enormous ambitions were beyond the scope of minds focused purely on the daily struggle for life, they were awed and half afraid. But even his legion of enemies and rivals acknowledged Hammer’s skill and audacity and luck. This might work.