Kernes swore. Deehalter shouted, "All right, I saw it, what the hell's the difference? Something killed the cow, didn't it?" He glared at the others, then went on, "First they'll think we're crazy. And then when they learn it's true, they'll say, 'Strontium 90,' or 'What're they spraying their fields with to do that?' or 'There's something in their water.' And we'll never sell another pint of milk from here as long as we live. Youknow what the dairy business is like!"

Alice nodded sharply."Then we'll just raise hogs," she said, "or corn-or we'll sell the farm and all get jobs with Purina, for God's sake. Spring Hill Dairies isn't the whole-"

"Alice!"

Kernes' eyes were flicking from one sibling to the other, a spectator rather than a referee. Alice glared at him, then said to her brother, "All right, George. But I'm taking the kids into town to stay with Iris until you come to your senses." Then, to her husband, she added, "Tom, are you coming too?"

"If you leave here, Kernes," said Deehalter quietly, "you'll never come back. I don't give a shit what the law says."

The men stared at each other. "I'll stay," Kernes said. Alice banged through the gate and into the milking parlor without a look behind her."I'd have stayed anyway, Alice!" the smaller man shouted.

"Call Doc Jepson," Deehalter repeated wearily. "We can tell him it was dogs or something-" the tooth marks were too high and broad for that to be other than a transparent lie-"and hope we can scotch this thing before worse happens."

Numbly, Kernes made the call. As the little man hung up, they heard the rasping starter of the old station wagon. A moment later, gravel spattered as Alice rocketed down the drive. Almost as fast as he himself had driven the night before, Deehalter thought.

"It's because of what we took out of that mound," Kernes said in a small voice.

Deehalter shook his head in irritation. "This thing didn't come from a skull or a little bit of iron," he snapped. "It's big, big enough to kill a Holstein."