st out of his mind with anger, and he
paced the floor, and, swore and nearly tore the room apart. He wouldn't
speak to anyone, just stamped around and threw things. And then we heard
him cry out, and when we got to him he was unconscious on the floor, and
he was dead when the doctor came--" She set her glass down with
trembling fingers. "He had something big, Tom, I'm sure of it. He had
some information that he planned to drop on the conference table with
such a bang it would stop the whole world cold. _He knew something_
that the conference doesn't know--"

Tom Shandor stood up, trembling, and took the briefcase. "It should be
here," he said. "If not the whole story, at least the missing pieces."
He started for the booth door. "Go home," he said. "I'm going where I
can examine these files without any interference. Then I'll call you."
And then he was out the door, shouldering his way through the crowded
restaurant, frantically weaving his way to the street. He didn't hear
Ann's voice as she called after him to stop, didn't see her stop at the
booth door, watch in a confusion of fear and tenderness, and collapse
into the booth, sobbing as if her heart would break. Because a crazy,
twisted, impossible idea was in his mind, an idea that had plagued him
since he had started reading that morning, an idea with an answer, an
acid test, folded in the briefcase under his arm. He bumped into a fat
man at the bar, grunted angrily, and finally reached the street,
whistled at the cab that lingered nearby.

The car swung up before him, the door springing open automatically. He
had one foot on the running board before he saw the trap, saw the tight
yellowish face and the glittering eyes inside the cab. Suddenly there
was an explosion of bright purple brilliance, and he was screaming,
twisting and screaming and reeling backward onto the sidewalk, doubled
over with the agonizing fire that burned through his side and down one
leg, forcing scream after scream from his throat as he blindly staggered
to the wall of the building, pounded it with his fists for relief from
the searing pain. And then he was on his side on the sidewalk, sobbing,
blubbering incoherently to the uniformed policeman who was dragging him
gently to his feet, seeing through burning eyes the group of curious
people gathering around. Suddenly realization dawned through the pain,
and he let out a cry of anger and bolted for the curb, knocking the
policeman aside, his ey