and pulled himself together. He advanced across the basement and stopped by Verne Haskel.
"What do you want?" Haskel muttered, noticing him.
Tyler licked his lips. "You're adding some things, aren't you? New buildings."
Tyler touched the little bread factory with shaking fingers. "What's this? Bread? Where does it go?" He moved around the table. "I don't remember any bread factory in Woodland." He whirled. "You aren't by any chance improving the town? Fixing it up here and there?"
"Get the hell out of here," Haskel said, with ominous calm. "Both of you."
"Verne!" Madge squeaked.
"I've got a lot to do. You can bring sandwiches down about eleven. I hope to finish sometime tonight."
"Finish?" Tyler asked.
"Finish," Haskel answered, returning to his work.
"Come on, Madge." Tyler grabbed her and pulled her to the stairs. "Let's get out of here." He strode ahead of her, up to the stairs and into the hall. "Come on!" As soon as she was up he closed the door tightly after them.
Madge dabbed at her eyes hysterically. "He's gone crazy, Paul! What'll we do?"
Tyler was deep in thought. "Be quiet. I have to think this out." He paced back and forth, a hard scowl on his features. "I'll come soon. It won't be long, not at this rate. Sometime tonight."
"What? What do you mean?"
"His withdrawal. Into his substitute world. The improved model he controls. Where he can get away."
"Isn't there something we can do?"
"Do?" Tyler smiled faintly. "Do we want to do something?"
Madge gasped. "But we can't just—"
"Maybe this will solve our problem. This may be what we've been looking for." Tyler eyed Mrs. Haskel thoughtfully. "This may be just the thing."
It was after midnight, almost two o'clock in the morning, when he began to get things into final shape. He was tired—but alert. Things were happening fast. The job was almost done.
He halted work a moment, surveying what he had accomplished. The town had