Argus had received word from her agents in Millinocket that strange things were afoot; she had accumulated quite a thick file on the place by now. Terry had told her as soon as he got there that it was a strange little town, and he had a feeling that things were coming to a head. They knew for a fact that there were werewolves in the area. The Jenkins clan persisted despite the disappearance of their patriarch nine months ago, following a night of strange events at the mill. Eighteen months ago the Jenkins heir--actually the old man's youngest son (a matter of pack dynamics, Terry suspected, as Wolfgang Jenkins was also the largest and the toughest of the family)--had married a Boston society woman named St. John. Nine months ago she had given birth to a daughter. There was no doubt in Argus' mind that this was the same woman. The Jenkins heir appeared to be doing everything possible to revive the town of Ambajejus; distant clan members were moving back from Millinocket and farther places, although the mills remained closed.
    She had new bullets made, with silver embedded in the plastic. You can do that when you own enough factories.
    
    During their wait at the airport Bernard (now costumeless) expressed some skepticism to his comrades about the vampire/werewolf business; after all, lycanthropy and vampirism had both been confirmed by modern science to be a disease, not some supernatural affliction. Kane had showed his fangs.
    "Disease? Do you find a pulse?"
    "I'm sure there's a scientific explanation. We just don't know it yet."
    "I have no pulse, I don't show up in mirrors, I drink blood, and sleep during the day because otherwise the sun makes me burst into flames." Or at least, very uncomfortable.
    "There's a very complicated, entirely reasonable explanation," he replied, unfazed. "And I look forward to finding it out."
    Edgar arrived, and greeted the two returning men cheerfully. Bernard introduced himself as Mr. Claude Butler.
    "So the wife isn't coming up this time?"
    "Not feeling well," Kane replied.
    "Very sorry to hear that."
    "She should be out of the hospital soon."
    "Feminine troubles?"
    "Bad reaction to a leech, actually," he said honestly.
    "Where'd she run into a leech?"
    "Florida."
    "There a lot of good timber down there?"
    "Not a lot. Lot of leeches, though."
    "Are you the new business partner?" he asked Astro-Man.
    "Yes. Just in from California, actually."
    "Oh. You guys certainly are quite national. Why don't you strap yourselves down, there's some coffee back there for you." A good while into the flight he said, "Been eighteen months since you were up here last; you come to any decisions about whether to invest in?"
    Adam could not help but notice that Edgar seemed to have gotten his act together remarkably well in that time; he looked better, smelled better, and didn't appear to have been drinking. Just as before, however, he remained motivated by fear; he was flying the straight and narrow now because he was terrified of something. The ape shared these thoughts with his companions.
    "Unfortunately we're not the voting group," Kane said. "We don't get to make decisions as to when we invest, we just come out, look, make recommendations."
    "Well, I hope you like the wood that you took out last time?"
    "It was quite fine." It was also in a PAA warehouse where it would with luck never see the light of day (or night) again.
    "Oh, good. Here we are." A distant break appeared in the sea of summer trees. "Let me radio ahead so there'll be a car waiting for you. What's your specialty in all of this, Mr. Butler?"
    "Mainly the financial end. Don't have much skill in botany."
    "Ah." He sounded appropriately impressed. "Well, I'm sure the people in the town will be happy to see you again. Although there has been other investment recently, we've got a couple of new stores that cropped up, some outside investors from down south. Boston area." They landed, with a significant amount of bouncing, and Edgar let down the stairs. Jules was waiting with the car.
    We've got to buy some telephone poles or something from these people, Kane thought. The Navy needs wood, doesn't it? For something?
    The visitors had even more luggage than they had last time. Jules looked at it. "Mr. Butler, why don't I give you a hand with that?" His looked the most normal.
    "That's doc--Mr. Butler. Yes. Thank you." Damn, he thought. He'd worked for years for that title.
    "We've got rooms set up for you again," Jules told them, loading the car. "Wife wasn't able to make it?"
    "Not feeling well," Kane said again. The three of them had certainly made an impression on their last visit. They could see Jules relax a little bit in the knowledge that the bizarre love triangle would not be causing any damage this time.
    "Sorry to hear that. Although on the other hand, the car's fixed."
    "That's good. Sorry about that"
    "Oh, no; these things happen. That's what happens when you let women drive."
    The town was looking much more lively now that it was summer. There were indeed a few new establishments, one of them with a truck parked in front of it, so there did seem to be some economic activity.
    "We're having a particularly busy year," Jules volunteered. "Good thing that you radioed ahead, because otherwise the hotel's full up."
    "Really," Kane replied, surprised. "Well, I'm glad to hear it."
    "So's the boss. Mr. Vanderburg's absolutely thrilled; it's been a while since we've been full up on anything. But the town's hopping this summer. It certainly seems as if everything is coming together for us."
    "Glad to hear it."
    All of them were able to distinguish the locals from the visitors, even out on the street. The outsiders were a flashy crowd, well-dressed and lively compared to the residents. The car pulled up in front of the hotel; Jules took Bernard's bag again. Kane and Adam dealt with their own considerable luggage.
    Inside, Kane noticed at once that it was full of werewolf sign. Adam's neck hair lifted sharply at the awareness of surrounding predators. And Astro-Man logically deduced that if there were werewolves and cultists visiting the town, this could well be their center of operations. Most of the hotel's social areas were full of people milling about; it looked as if a large segment of Boston-New York-Philadelphia high society were vacationing in Millinocket.
    Mr. Vanderburg walked over to meet them; they saw the conversation of glances between him and Jules about the luggage, culminating in Jules flat and silent refusal to even attempt lifting Adam's bag.
    "Mr. Roberts," the proprietor greeted.
    "Nice to see you again."
    "Mr. Prime."
    Hello.
    "Mr. Claude Butler," Bernard introduced himself.
    "Mr. Butler, it's a pleasure. Mark Vanderburg. I run the hotel. Please, come on in, we'll get you signed in and squared away. Good thing you radioed ahead, we have the same suite for you. I have to say there was a sudden rush."
    "You look much busier this time of year," Kane commented.
    "Much busier than we've been in some time. If you'll just sign here, sir." He retrieved the key for the suite. "The weather's nice enough that you should be able to take full advantage of the balcony. The dinner times haven't changed. Our menu has expanded somewhat over the last couple of weeks," he added. "I have to say that if you're coming up here to consider investing in again, well, I know that you're the ones that have to make the decision, but I think that you'll find a slightly better reception this time than you did last time. Why don't you go about and check out ht town now, while Jules carries your bag up to the room?"
    "Actually, if you don't mind, Jules, if you have a moment... do you have an envelope?" Kane asked.
    "Um, yes. Of course."

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