Senator Custis pursed his lips. "A session of the Town Council was called," he said. "We've defined what a person is in this town—"
Stump, standing ten feet away, snorted. "Can't touch me with no ex post factory law."
"—and also what can be classified as vermin," Custis went on.
Stump closed his mouth with a snap.
"Here, that s'posed to be some kind of slam at me, Custis? By God, come election time...."
Above, the door opened again. A tall man in a leather jacket stepped out, stood looking down. The crowd pressed back. Senator Custis and the reporter moved aside. The newcomer came down the steps slowly. He carried Cecil Stump's nickel-plated .44 in his hand.
Standing alone now, Stump watched him.
"Here," he said. His voice carried a sudden note of strain. "Who're you?"
The man reached the foot of the steps, raised the revolver and cocked it with a thumb.
"I'm the new exterminator," he said.