until you're feeling better," Waters said.

"No. I've got to see Mr. Browne!"

"Why?"

"I--I can't tell you."

"All right." Captain Waters gave in. "I'll take you down and bring you
back."

It was half an hour later, in the reception room at the publishing
company. Fred stared numbly at the big poster on the wall advertising
his father's book.

"Mr. Browne will see you," the receptionist said.

"Wait here," Fred told Captain Waters. "I want to talk to him alone." He
went to the door and opened it, stepping inside and closing it behind
him.

"Fred Grant?" Browne said, getting up from his desk and coming toward
him, hand outstretched. "What can I do for you? Need some money?"

Fred was shaking his head. "I don't want any money," he said. "I want
you to stop my father's book. You can't publish it."

"Now wait," Browne said. "We aren't going through that again, are we?"

"You can't!" Fred said. "People will read it and vanish!"

"Huh?"

"People will read it and vanish! You've got to believe me. _The cause of
those disappearances is in that book!_"

Browne stared for a moment, then dragged over a notepad, wondering how
his publicity boys had missed this one. He stood up and came around his
desk. "You leave it to me," he said. "You won't have a thing to worry
about. I'll take care of everything."

"Then you won't publish it?"

Browne was guiding him toward the door. "You leave it to me. Drop in
again soon. If you need money just drop in any time and I'll fix you
up."

Fred found himself outside the door, not quite sure what Mr. Browne had
promised.

Inside, Browne went back to his desk, muttering, "What a killing! Have
to tell Nichols about it tomorrow at lunch. That vanishing stuff is a
terrific publicity angle."

* * * * *

"You still don't want to tell me what's troubling you?" Police Captain
Waters said wistfully.

A frown crossed Fred's features and vanished into a smile. "Nothing's
troubling me," he lied. "I'm all right. I'll be all right."

"You'll stay with us a while longer?"

"Sure. Sure. You make me feel--okay. I'm just going out for a ride. Be
back for supper."

* * * * *

It had been two months now since his mother and Curt had vanished. In
that two months he had come to realize something. He didn't quite know
how to express it even in his thoughts.

It wasn't that he didn't want to vanish. He would, some day. But he