days, Brek Halliday lay in the padded tank of a hypnorobot while information was poured into him.

Then he was given his clothes. They consisted of a pair of high-heeled boots made of treated animal skin, a pair of tight trousers woven of blue-dyed vegetable fiber, a shirt of similar material, and a broad-brimmed hat. Other clothing and equipment went into a pack, and a money-belt around Brek's waist carried gold coins that not even an expert could have told from the originals.

The thing that Brek liked best was the fact that he would be allowed to carry weapons openly. Some civilizations of the past didn't permit a citizen to carry guns, but where Brek was going, a man with a pair of six-guns at his hips wouldn't look odd at all.

Brek had ridden a horse three times—once in the Battle of Agincourt, once at Chickamaugua, and once during a trip from Rome to Ravenna in the Sixth Century. His fourth horse was saddled a little differently, but he found it easy to handle. He trotted it onto the platform and signalled the operator. There was a brief hum as the chronokinetic projector warmed up. Then there was a sudden surge of power.

Brek's surroundings seemed to vanish into greyness.

Moments later, light swirled around him....

Plata City, New Mexico, was enjoying a warm, lazy summer day. No one paid much attention to the stranger who came into town on a very ordinary-looking cayuse, pulled up before the Casa Loma Saloon, and dismounted. He hitched his horse to the rail, looked up and down the street casually, and then strode into the saloon.

"What'll it be, mister?" asked the fat, mustachioed bartender.

"Whiskey," Brek said. "And a little cold beer to follow it. That road from El Paso is hot."

The barman filled the order. "El Paso, eh? That's a right smart ride. Been on the road long?"

"'Bout a week. I don't believe in rushin' nothin'."

"Hey, barkeep!" yelled someone down at the far end. The bartender went, and Brek downed his whiskey. He sipped the beer reflectively, thinking long and hard.

Jon Sagginer had been convicted once for illegal use of a time machine, and had been sentenced to ten years on Luna. Somehow, he'd managed to escape and, by bluff and daring, actually get control of a Time Patrol Chronokinetic Projector long enough to 

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