He marched the farmers out into the street, which was still blessedly empty, and indicated that they should go to the end of the block and turn in at the side street. They did so and waited there, faces white, teeth chattering in terror.
"Okay," Riddell said. "Would you care to repeat to me what you said about the government of Northburg?"
"We didn't say anything."
"Yes we did," said the outspoken one. "They're going to put us away anyway, so we might as well speak up." He stared defiantly at Riddell. "We don't like you, and we don't like Barr. And we don't want war. It's—it's madness. Why can't we rebuild the country the way it used to be? Why—"
"That'll be enough," Riddell said. "You're speaking treason, you know. Such words can condemn you."
The two men began to quiver. Riddell looked with pity on the one who hadn't spoken, the one who had desperately tried to silence his friend before it was too late. A scowl came to his face. Barr was ruling with an iron hand here, but there was a chink in his armor. The people didn't want this war.
Riddell grinned. "Tell me something. Where can I find David Barr?"
"What? But you're a—"
"Don't mind the uniform," Riddell said. "Better keep your voices low. You're not arrested. I want you to tell me where Barr is."
"This is a trick, Clyde. He's trying to trap us."