who possess atomic heat machines are indeed fortunate. There is no time for detailed directions. Go—and may your conduct be such that it will be for the future salvation of the human race in this crisis."
The picture faded, leaving us staring with white faces at each other.
"I'll get the children," screamed Vera, but I caught her arm.
"You'll do nothing of the kind. We must not any of us be separated. The children will return when they are thoroughly cold."
My prediction was correct. The words had scarcely left my lips when the three ran into the hall crying. It was growing insufferably cold. We all realized that. We rushed about in addle-pated fashion, all talking at once, grabbing up this and that until we were acting like so many demented creatures.
Suddenly a voice, loud and stem, brought us to our senses. It was young Marden who was speaking.
"We are all acting like fools," he cried. "With your permission I will tell you what to do if you want to live awhile longer."
His self-control had a quieting effect upon the rest of us. He continued in lower tones, but with an undeniable air of mastery, "My observatory across the street is the place for our hibernation. It is heated by atomic energy, so there will be no danger of a fuel shortage. Ed, will you and Mrs. Zutell bring from your home in your car all the provisions you have available at once? Jim" (I rather winced at being addressed in so familiar a manner by a man younger in years than myself, but upon this occasion my superior), "you and Mrs. Griffin load your car with all your available food. I was going to add that you buy more, but an inevitable stampede at the groceries might make that inadvisable at present. My wife and I will bring all the concentrated food we have on hand—enough for two or three years, I think, if carefully used. Kiddies," he said to the three who stood looking from one to the other of us in uncomprehending terror, "gather together all the coats and wraps you find here in the Griffin house!"
A new respect for this man possessed me as we all set about carrying out his orders.
"You watch the children and gather together provisions," I called to Vera. “I am going to see if I can't get more from the store. We must have more concentrated and condensed foods than we are in the habit of keeping on hand for daily use. Such foods will furnish a maximum amount of nourishment with a minimum bulk."
4
I opened the door but returned immediately for my overcoat. The breath of winter was out of doors, though it was the month of June. The streets were lighted, and in the imperfect glow I could see panicky figures flitting to and fro. I hurried toward the square, which was exactly what everyone else seemed to be doing. A man bumped my elbow. Each of us turned and regarded the other with wide eyes. I recognized old Sam McSween.
"My God, Griffin," he cried, "what does it all mean? Ella's been laid up for a week—no food, and I thought I'd"
I left him to relate his woes to the next passer-by. My goal was Barnes' Cash Grocery. There was a mob inside the store, but old man Barnes, his son and daughter and two extra clerks were serving the crowd as quickly as possible. Guy Barnes' nasal tones reached my ears as I stood shivering in the doorway.
"No—terms are strictly cash, friends."
