tired of the chase. They didn't, however, and his life in those years (except for peaceful interludes on the marsh) had been one of pursuit at close quarters He was not unused to being awakened just before dawn by the stampedelike pounding of the Short Tails boots as they rushed up the rickety stairs of whatever temporary lodging he had procured. He had been diverted from pleasures of hundreds of meals, scores of women, and dozens of rich unguarded houses by the sud den appearance of the Short Tails. Sometimes they materialized around him, by means that he could not fathom, not four feet away. Things were too close, the field of maneuver too tighr,the stakes too high.