"Are you going to fly out there to the Coast?" Sid asked.

"Right," Luckman said. "As soon as I get packed. I'm going to set up a vacation residence in Berkeley assuming I like it—assuming it isn't decayed. One thing I can't stand is a decayed town; I don't mind them empty, that you expect. But decay." He shuddered. If there was one thing that was surely bad luck it was a town which had fallen into ruin, as many of the towns in the South had. In his early days he had been Bindman for several towns in North Carolina. He would never forget the fshnuger experience.

Sid asked, "Can I be honorary Bindman while you're gone?"

"Sure," Luckman said expansively. "I'll write you out a parchment scroll in gold and seal it with red wax and ribbon."

"Really?" Sid said, eyeing him uncertainly.

Luckman laughed. "You'd like that, a lot of ceremony. Like Pooh-bah in the Mikado. Lord High Honorary Bindman of New York City, and tax assessments fixed on the side. Right?"

Flushing, Sid murmured, "I notice you worked hard for darn near sixty-five years to get to be Bindman for this area."

"That's because of my social plans to improve the milieu," Luckman said. "When I took over the title deed there were only a few hundred people here. Now look at the population. It's due to me—not directly, but because I encouraged non-B people to play The Game, strictly for the pairing and re-pairing of mates, isn't that a fact?"

"Sure, Mr. Luckman," Sid said. "That's a fact."

"And because of that, a lot of fertile couples were un-

covered that otherwise never would have paired off, right?"