“So,” Ona said, “nobody’s keeping track of the hundred-to-hundred-ten crowd?” “There’s too many. Almost one-third of one million if you count the whole world. Which I do.” “Where in blazes are they hiding?” “I don’t know,” the boy said gloomily. “And here I thought I was two or three pneumonias away from a record. We got all hepped up over nothing.” He shook his head sadly. “It’s all right,” she said. “We’ll wait them out.”
