the red flow, grabbed the bottle, set it upright and stood looking down at her: "And you try to talk me out of a SLEUTHING JAG. You say revenge is violent and let justice take its own sweet time. Well, let me tell you, little Ann, there's no virtue in patience when madmen run the streets. Things just don't get right alone. And this isn't lynching either. It's justice and I've got to make it good. Violence is bad and death is bad and it comes in spite of all our goodness. But THIS death no living thing should have had to bear. No one no matter how depraved! And especially not the little guy because he was very small and very good and never made for hurt."

Suddenly Ann was crying silently in his arms, and he held her so tightly she clenched her teeth. They stood and stood until the whirr of the kitchen clock seemed a roar.

(The story printed above is the first chapter of an unpublished novel of the same title. Jeff Winters is a familiar name to the 1953 readers of ONE Magazine. Author of a number of controversial articles, "Homosexuals Are Not People," "Those Mad Magazines," and others, we are glad to welcome him back among the magazine's current contributors.)

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