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“Maybe it’s the Huns!” Johnny said and scraped his plane through the air His skin prickled, though he didn’t knohy

“Looks like a big old ball of dust,” the Rotary Club president said in wonder

“Should we ring the church bell and get to the storm cellars?” Pastor Jacobs asked

“Let’s wait and see,” the president said He did not likedecisions until he knehat the popular vote would be

The mothers had left the butcher shop Their children stopped squabbling and moved close to their mothers’ sides The town crank slowed his chew The restless young people greeted the arrival of the stor chair stilled; her knitting needles lay in her lap “I saw a dust storirl When it was over, little Polly Johansen was h no one listened

The clouds had spread out The citizens of Beckettsville could no longer see the horizon The high-pitched whine of insects filled the charged air The birds shrieked and fleay fro suddenness Ida Olsen left her hiding place and cah her er toward the spot of road still visible “What’s that?” Ida asked

A lonein stature, with a stovepipe hat atop hair that was kept longer than was the fashion in this part of the country, and an old-fashioned undertaker’s coat usty wind The people of this sers—there wasn’t even a train depot here—and this e, indeed He walked with a deliberate stride, and that ht be iht on thelike a town crier To Johnny Barton, it seemed the croanted to fly away from its master but stayed as if an invisible chain held it firmly in place

Thethe storm reached the citizens at last His skin was the patchy, peeling gray of a rotting shroud, and Cora Nettles tried to hide her distaste She hoped it wasn’t catching, son disease The man tipped his tall hat with easy formality “Good afternoon”

The president of the Rotary Club stepped forward “Afternoon Walter Kurtz, president of the Beckettsville Rotary Club And who ht you be?”

“Iof Crows”

The citizens chuckled lightly at this The Rotary Club president heard and grinned “Well, we don’t getto his behbors, happy to k

now the popular vote at last “You on your way through somewheres?”

“In a ”

“We don’t get ers here,” Cora Nettles explained

“I aer,” the man replied, and it left Cora unsettled She could not place his face

“You ht want to take shelter, sir,” Pastor Jacobs said “There’s a storht behind you”

The King of Crows glanced over his shoulder at the e of town, and turned back, untroubled “Indeed there is” With eyes black and lifeless as a doll’s, he surveyed the little town He inhaled deeply, as if he were notin the fullunknown “What a fine claim you have here”

The Rotary Club president beao, your San Francisco and Kansas City Right here in Beckettsville—this is the good life!”

“We’ve even got a hotel,” Charlie Banks said, and he hoped Cora thought he was clever to mention this

The corners of the stranger’s mouth twitched but did not extend into a smile “My And how many souls live here?”

“Four hundred five Al as Maisy Lipscomb is due any day now,” Charlie answered

“And how many dead have you?”

“I… beg pardon?” Charlie said

“No h there was no warmth in it “You’ve sold me We’ll take it”

“Take what?” the Rotary Club president said