Joel took one look at the white, tense face and stepped aside. Nick took up a stand on the bank, facing the bulldozer, about four feet from the menacing shovel. From there he talked over his shoulder at Ed, who was now leaning against one of the huge grader wheels, looking grim.

“Now listen, Ed,” Nick said quietly, “you’ll have to shovel me up with it if you touch this place.”

“Sacred, is it?”

“Yes, if you like, it is sacred.”

“Who says?”

“Anyone in his right mind says. I say. You’re going to destroy things we can’t get back if you tear up this bank—it’s a mass of flowers. You know that as well as I do.”

“Flowers! Good Christ, the woods are full of ’em! Go ahead, Chuck—he’ll move!”

Chuck scratched his head. He was not about to shovel a man up, and the man standing there had a pretty determined look about him.

“Come on, Nick,” he said cheerfully. “Some things have to go—you know it. We all know it. Give us a break, man.”

He put the machine in first and crept a few feet forward. They heard the shovel grinding up earth and rock.

“Go on!” Ed shouted, suddenly in a rage.

He was across the road before Joel knew what had happened and had grappled Nick and swung him out of the way.

“God damn you!”

“No!” Joel shouted. “Leave him alone! Don’t you touch Nick,” and he hurled himself at the two men, not knowing where or how to get a hold.

“Keep out of this, long-hair,” Ed muttered between his teeth.

Just then Chuck got going and the bulldozer roared forward, pushing a slice of the bank before it, and with that sound Nick went berserk. He managed to get one arm loose and socked Ed hard in the jaw. Chuck looked back then, stopped the machine and jumped out just as Joel managed to get a grip on Nick from behind, and before Ed had caught his breath Chuck had him too. For a second all four stood there breathing hard, facing each other.

It seemed an eternity to Joel, and he wondered how long he could hold Nick back. But suddenly, as suddenly as it had blown up, the storm of anger dropped.

“Let me go,” Ed muttered, and Chuck, feeling the man gone slack, took his hands off.

“Shucks, I got hired for road work”—Chuck tried to laugh it off—“not to supervise a boxing match.”

“Shut up,” Ed said, wiping blood off his mouth. “This time you go to jail, Nick—or to the state hospital. Take your choice.”

“It’s only because he cares,” Joel said passionately. “Can’t you see?”

“Cares enough to give me a bloody mouth.”

“Nick, Nick!” Joel pleaded, “say something!”

But Nick was beyond speech. He had become a furious, bewildered animal, head down, panting long panting sobs.