the devil--I knew what I saw. After seventeen years, I've got enough
sense to tell a ship or a balloon when I see it."

"Did they believe you?" I asked him.

"If they did, they didn't let on. Two of 'em acted as if they thought
I was nuts. The other guy-I think he was Air Force Intelligence--acted
decent. He said not to get steamed up about the Aero-Medical boys; it
was their job to screen out the crackpots.

"And on top of that, I found out later the F.B.I. had checked up on me
to find out if I was a liar or a screwball. They went around to my
boss, people in my neighborhood--even the pilots in my outfit. My
outfit's still razzing me. I wouldn't report another saucer if one
flew through my cockpit."

Pete Farrell hadn't encountered any Project "Saucer" teams personally,
but he had some interesting angles. Some of the information had come
from commercial and private pilots in the Midwest, part of it through
National Guard contacts.

"I can tell you one thing," Pete said. "Guard pilots got the same
order as the Air Force. If we saw anything peculiar flying around, we
were to do our damnedest to identify it."

"What about trying to bring one down? I've heard that was in one
order."

Pete hesitated for a second. "Look, I told you that much because it's
been in the papers. But I'm still in the