The boy swallowed and looked Hestier in the face.
"Hell, he never said a word," he said, and spat, just
missing Hestler's shoe.
"Died intestate," the cop intoned, and wrote a note in
his book. He gestured and a cleanup squad moved in,
lifted the corpse onto a cart, covered it, trundled it
away.
"Close it up," the oop ordered.
"Intestate," somebody grumbled. "Crap!" .
"A rotten shame. The slot goes back to the government.
Nobody profits. Goddam!" The fat man who had spoken
looked around at the others. "In a case like this we ought
to get together, have some 'equitable plan worked out and
agreed to in advance"
"Hey," the slack-jawed boy said. "That's conspiracy!"
"I meant to suggest nothing illegal." The fat man faded
back to his place in line. As if by common consent, the
small crowd dissipated, sliding into their places with deft
footwork. Hestier shrugged and remounted his wheel,
putt-putted forward, aware of the envious eyes that fol-
lowed him. He passed the same backs he always passed,
some standing, some sitting on canvas camp stools under
sun-faded umbrellas, here and there a nylon queuebana,
high and square, some shabby, some, owned by the more
fortunate, ornate. He was a lucky man; he had never been
a standee, sweating the line exposed to the sun and prying
eyes.
It was a bright afternoon. The sun shone down on the
vast concrete ramp across which the line snaked from a
point lost in distance across the plain. Aheadnot far
ahead now, and getting closer every daywas the blank
white wall 'perforated only by the window, the terminal
point of the line. Hestler slowed as he approached the
Hestler queuebana; 'his mouth went dry as he saw how
close it was to the head of the line now. One, two, three,
four slots back! Ye Gods, that meant six people had
been processed in the past twelve hoursan unprec-
edented number. And it meantHestler caught his
breathhe might reach the window himself, this shift.
For a moment, he felt a panicky urge to flee, to trade
places with First Back, and then with Second, work his
way back to a safe distance again, give himself a chance
to think about it, get ready. . .
"Say, Fam." The head of 'his Cousin Galpert poked
from the curtains of the nylon-walled queuebana. "Guess
what? I moved up a spot while you were gone."
Hestler folded the wheel and leaned it against the
weathered cloth. He waited until Galpert had emerged,
then surreptiltiloualy twitahed the curtains wide open. The
place always smelled fudgy and stale after his cousin had
