"Miss Piper knows it!"

"I'm sorry. I mean, really sorry," Gloryanna said. "I didn't see any harm in showing -"

The second man cut her off abruptly. "If I were you, Miss Piper, I'd pay attention to our rules. Careful attention."

The man's voice was edging upward. Solo backed off a few feet. "We'll get out of your way right now."

"I'd advise it," the man said. "And don't come back." Solo caught Gloryanna by the hand and started off as Illya followed, saying, "We'll leave the field entirely to you, sir." He caught up with Solo and muttered, "It's downright embarrassing, Napoleon, running like this."

"We'll have our chance," Solo promised. He looked over his shoulder. The two men were watching their re treat. He kept walking doggedly, starting to follow u the clues the girl had given him to keep his mind off the Thrush guns behind him. "Now, Gloryanna, where did you say this road show is set up? On the estate you showed us?"

"Yes. But I won't take you there. Something funny is going on. I can sense it."

"Woman's intuition?" Illya asked from the same need Solo had to make conversation.

"Plain common sense. Do you two carry guns? What the devil are you? Gangsters come to rob our bank?"

"We'll explain all of that," Solo told her.

"You'd better, and right away. Come into the house and I'll give you coffee and you can tell me. My guided tour is over."

---

An hour later she drove them back to town, satisfied with the brief explanation they had given her, and oddly proud to be part of an U.N.C.L.E. operation. It had taken no convincing. She had doubted the identity of the Agriculture men all along, though she hadn't admitted it to anyone. She knew her County Agent, and her other contacts with the Department had been with polite men who didn't order the farmers about like strangers on their own land.

---

Back in the hotel room, Solo finished his report to Waverly. "They weren't U.S.D.A. men at all, sir."

"I discovered that, myself," Waverly said. "The U.S.D.A. is aware of the problem and was just ready to move in. Since we're there already, they've decided to let us handle it. After all, Thrush is our regular adversary so they feel we have the better chance. Do you have any substantial leads, Mr. Solo?"

"An insubstantial one, sir. The Cosmic Theater. It's a road show of some sort that came into town a few days ago. Headed by a Mr. Saturn. They're ensconced in a trailer camp on a country estate. They haven't put on a show yet because no one around here is interested with their fields dying under their feet."

"They came after the devastation?"

"They did. But their advance publicity men came before. That's why I'm considering them. Naturally, all of the Thrush operatives posing as U.S.D.A. men came after the trouble started, too. But there has to be a link somewhere."

"Find it then, and quickly," Waverly said. "We have indications that Thrush is stirring all over the world, preparing for something. Probably this chemical. If they distribute it before we have the antidote, everything is lost." Waverly paused briefly. When he resumed, his voice had changed from command to concern. "And how are you making out personally, Mr. Solo?"

Solo winced at the question, a bit angry. Was every one at U.N.C.L.E. going to mother-hen him until he proved himself? "Everything is fine here, sir. But if you're really not sure of me, then -"

"Temper, Mr. Solo."

To himself, Solo said, "Ooopsl" but to Waverly he said, "I'm sorry, sir.

"That goes without saying," Waverly answered.

Solo switched the transceiver off and looked, at Illya. The blond agent was barely suppressing a laugh.

"So, I put my foot in my mouth," Solo snapped at him. "You'd better watch when you smile or I'll carry your head home in a box, shaggy hair and all."

"Temper, Mr. Solo. Let's eat and soothe the growling bear in you. Peace?"

Solo grinned and stood up. Food sounded just the thing to settle the sodas and strong coffee.

They went down to the hotel dining room and had a passable meal. The room was crowded but not one eye flickered in recognition as they sat finishing their dinner.

The Thrush agent in Gloryanna's field obviously hadn't recognized them. Solo thought they were still all right and could move about unhampered. Illya agreed. Hopefully. Because once they were pegged they stood little chance with the large number of Thrush men they had against them.

On the way back upstairs, Solo said, "We'll be having a guest for late breakfast, Illya. Gloryanna."

"Now, when did you manage that?"

"You have to run fast to keep up with me. Nothing romantic, mind you. But she's our only link to this area and its people, and I want her around."

"Besides which, she's a pleasure to look at in those tight slacks," Illya finished for him.

The next morning was sunny and boded stifling heat. Solo and Illya were downstairs waiting when Gloryanna pulled up in front of the hotel. Solo quickly ran out and parked her car, then hurried back to claim her from Illya's interested attention.

As they went into the dining room, she called out to a few people she knew and made a charming unselfconscious display of herself in her bright red slacks and white blouse. Still there was no sign of menace from the men sitting at the other tables. They admired Gloryanna. Nothing more sinister.

With coffee steaming before them, Solo changed the small talk to important talk. Gloryanna was willing to be pumped since she realized it was for a reason. He began bluntly, "Tell us all you know about this Cosmic Theater."

"I don't really know much," she admitted.

"Have you seen their setup?"

"Yes. In the old barn on that estate. It's not much of a barn, really. Unused and falling apart."

"The crop failure started before they arrived," Illya said.

"A few days before. I see what you're driving at, but it couldn't be the Cosmic Theater that caused this."

"Their advance men - their publicity men?" Solo asked.

"Let's see." She wrinkled her unwrinkled forehead, thinking. "They came here about a week before the show. "I put up posters and distributed leaflets and rented the barn. They brought this great big balloon with a basket under it and gave rides. And stardust for the kids."

"Stardust?" Illya glanced up sharply.

"It's just some sort of glittery confetti they handed out to the kids in sacks. Free. It's all gold and pretty, though. The kids had fights with it and threw it all over the place until most people dumped it out because of the mess. It melted away in the rain."

"What else did they do with the stardust?" Solo's interest was caught hard.

"They dropped clouds of it from the balloon when they went up for rides. It was a beautiful sight. Mists of gold glitter." She broke off, blushing. "I went out to the theater once. Sort of exciting, you know? I liked it a lot." She shook her head. "But those things are just foolish dreams, like my Dad says. The dead crops are the real thing."

Solo signaled the waitress for the check, suddenly eager to get out of the Flower Hotel and be underway. Stardust. Spread all about, over the town, over the fields, by children and by balloon. Little pieces of gold glitter that killed - probably with the first rain.

They went out onto the sidewalk. It was getting hotter by the minute. Illya asked, "Where is this balloon, Gloryanna?"