V.


"We've got to fight starvation, and we've got to beat it," Arthur
continued doggedly. "I'm telling you this right at the outset,
because I want you to begin right at the beginning and pitch in to
help. We have very little food and a lot of us to eat it. First,
I want some volunteers to help with rationing. Next, I want every
ounce of food, in this place put under guard where it can be served
to those who need it most. Who will help out with this?"

The swift succession of shocks had paralyzed the faculties of most
of the people there, but half a dozen moved forward. Among them was
a single gray-haired man with an air of accustomed authority. Arthur
recognized him as the president of the bank on the ground floor.

"I don't know who you are or if you're right in saying what has
happened," said the gray-haired man. "But I see something's got to
be done, and--well, for the time being I'll take your word for what
that is. Later on we'll thrash this matter out."

Arthur nodded. He bent over and spoke in a low voice to the
gray-haired man, who moved away.

"Grayson, Walters, Terhune, Simpson, and Forsythe come here,"
the gray-haired man called at a doorway.