“I don’t know. It might be that fella, you know, Carey, that’s been ranting and raving. Or the Jumpin’ Preacher.”

“Niesen?”

“Yeah, it could be him—except the people who would follow him I don’t think could afford those cars.”

They leaned on the windowsill, watching. Suddenly Charley Hughes laughed.

“What is it?”

“Oh, I just thought, now, wouldn’t it be funny if one of them had a flat tire along about now!”

“Man, you have a peculiar sense of humor, that’s all I can say.” Elbert Peters got his bottle of beer and took a swallow, and grinned.

“It would be something, though, wouldn’t it, El? You’re riding along and looking fierce and ugly and then, boom!—a flat. Right in the middle of the parade. You have to get out and change the tire, but look—do you take off the sheet? If you don’t, it’ll get all soiled; and if you do, then everybody sees that you’re the little bookkeeper over at the Mill who’s afraid of his boss. And think about all the others, sitting in back of you, waiting. They can’t even blow their horns—by God, I got me half a notion . . .” He took another swallow of beer and turned toward Helene Peters. “Honey, you got a box of carpet tacks around this place? Elbert and I’re going to wipe out the Ku Klux Klan!”

Eternities were gone before the last car disappeared and the street was empty again and night was night. Above, and creeping toward the Height, a hundred and forty red and angry little eyes grew smaller. Then, at last, they closed.

Joey let the curtain fall.

Albert walked over, chewing a piece of salami.

“What you think of all that down there?” Joey said.

“It’s a pistol,” Albert said.

Charlotte Green was seated in the chair. She was reading, or pretending to read.

“Did you think there really were things like that?” Joey asked.

“Sure. What wrong with you?”

“Were you scared? Are you scared now?”

Albert pulled Joey’s head down. “Listen, I tell you: they try anything, there’s plenty guys around like Glad Owens that they’ve got a whole arsenal, just waiting. I seen some of his stuff, he showed me once. He got a .38 and his brother that’s in Louisville, Arnie, he’s gonna get a machine gun to him. He says. I don’t know if he can do it in time, but that’s what he says.”

Joey looked at his mother and tried to guess what lay beneath the calm, untroubled surface. It was as if she weren’t at all surprised, or worried, or disturbed; as if a line of cars with hooded men inside were the most natural thing in the world.

Charlotte Green did not lift her eyes from the book.