"What do you want?" demanded Logan belligerently. He stepped in front of
Jane protectively.

"Now don't get excited Mr. Logan," said Vidac, his voice smooth. "We
just want you to sign a little paper, that's all."

"What kind of paper?" asked Logan.

"Say," said Winters suddenly, "ain't you got a kid?"

"If you mean my son, Billy," said Logan, "he's asleep."

"I'd better check," said Winters, starting forward.

"Never mind him," said Vidac. "We haven't got all night and there's
nothing a kid could do."

He pulled out a paper from his pocket and unfolded it, keeping his eyes
on Logan. "Mr. Logan, we're going to foreclose your mortgage."

"Foreclose!" gasped Logan. "But--but I haven't even had time to gather
in my first crop!"

"We've taken a look at your fields and we don't think you're doing a
good job," said Vidac. "In this mortgage you signed there's a clause
that states I can foreclose any time I want."

"But how can you judge a crop by just looking at the fields?" asked
Jane.