“It’s all going to go,” said Macgowan, waving his glass at the invisible world below. “Cities uninhabitable. Crop soil poisoned for a hundred years. Domestic animals going wild. Insects multiplying. Balance of nature upset. Ruins and plagues and millions of square miles radioactive and maybe most of the earth’s atmosphere. The roads crack, the lines sag, the machines rust, the libraries mildew, the buzzards fatten, and the forest primeval creeps over Hollywood and Vine, which maybe isn’t such a bad idea. But there you’ll have it. Thirty thousand years of primate development knocked over like a sleeping duck. Civilization atomized and annihilated. Yes, there’ll be some survivors ― I’m going to be one of them. But what are we going to have to do? Why, go back where we came from, brother ― to the trees. That’s logic, isn’t it? So here I am. All ready for it.”
“Now let’s have the note,” said Laurel.
“In a moment.” Ellery polished off the last third, shuddering. “Very logical, Mac, except for one or two items.”
“Such as?” said Crowe Macgowan courteously. “Here, let me give you a refill.”
“No, thanks, not just now. Why, such as these.” Ellery pointed to a network of cables winging from some hidden spot to the roof of Macgowan’s tree house. “For a chap who’s written off thirty thousand years of primate development you don’t seem to mind tapping the main power line for such things as―” he craned, surveying the interior ― “electric lights, a small electric range and refrigerator, and similar primitive devices; not to mention” ― he indicated a maze of pipes ― “running water, a compact little privy connected with ― I assume ― a septic tank buried somewhere below, and so on. These things ― forgive me, Mac ― blow bugs through your logic. The only essential differences between your house and your stepfather’s are that yours is smaller and thirty feet in the air.”
“Just being practical,” shrugged the giant. “It’s my opinion it’ll happen any day now. But I can be wrong ― it may not come till next year. I’m just taking advantage of the civilized comforts while they’re still available. But you’ll notice I have a .22 rifle hanging there, a couple of .45s, and when my ammunition runs out or I can’t rustle any more there’s a bow that’ll bring down any deer that survives the party. I practice daily. And I’m getting pretty good running around these treetops―”
“Which reminds me,” said Laurel. “Use your own trees after this, will you, Mac? I’m no prude, but a girl likes her privacy sometimes. Really, Ellery―”
“Macgowan,” said Ellery, eying their host, “what’s the pitch?”
“Pitch? I’ve just told you.”
“I know what you’ve just told me, and it’s already out the other ear. What character are you playing? And in what script by whom?” Ellery set the glass down and got to his feet. The effect he was trying to achieve was slightly spoiled, as he almost fell off the porch. He jumped to the side of the house, a little green. “I’ve been to Hollywood before.”