Michael Malone - Weebly

After all, he had not lied to her. His words had been
carefully chosen, but there had been no direct lie. At the
worst, at the very worst, thought Ransom, they had
tested small arms, experimental conventional weapons
out there. There was nothing nuclear going on. And
even small arms was unlikely. The armed forces didn't
hide in a swamp. Defense was nothing to be ashamed
of. Even if it were (though it wasn't) a missile site of
some sort, wasn't it the government's prerogative to
protect national security, however it saw fit?
That's what the government was there for. He
stared at the green.
Winslow Abernathy was coming out of his office;
shading his eyes with his hand, he turned toward the
post office. Ransom felt sorry for his old roommate.
Life had treated Winslow shabbily: good family, but one
that had lost its money in the Crash. Poor guy, never
had had any funds for clothes or clubs, or even a good
meal and a show their freshman year in New Haven.
Always made up some excuse like the library when the
other fellows started throwing out ideas for the evening.
Never would take a little loan. Then after they enlisted,