Keg Johnson came to the edge of Fabriville in a medium-sized tank that could withstand the entire mob to the last man. He ran the tank out of the gate and right to the edge of the mob, who shrank back to permit the thundering monster to pass. He stopped the tank and stood up in the top turret and spoke.
A built-in amplifier carried his voice to the edge of the mob.
"Who is your leader?"
Norton came forward boldly. "I am."
"What do you intend?"
"We want a haven. We are cold and hungry and needy."
Johnson nodded. "I can see that," he said dryly. "How did you collect this gang?"
"Most of this outfit were caught in the crash. Their incomes did not permit them to buy duplicators, and their friends were too busy running up their money to hand any out."
"Fine friends."
"And in the smaller cities, the attendants at the power stations left. There are a horde of dead towns on Mars today. That is why we have come here. We know that Fabriville is self-sufficient. We intend to join you."