hat he might
have security in his latter years.

Yudovich, however, was a proud old man, and he never once acknowledged
to himself or to anyone else that his work was useless. He guarded and
checked the plant as though it were the storehouse of the Terrestrial
Treasury. Every hour punctually, he made his rounds through the
building.

At approximately seven thirty he was making his usual circuit when he
came to the second level. What he discovered justified all the years of
punctilious discharge of his duties. He was startled to see a man
kneeling on the floor, just above where the main power lines ran. He had
torn a hole in the composition floor, and as Yudovich watched, he
reached in and pulled out the great cable. Immediately the intruder
glowed in the semidarkness with an unearthly blue shine and sparkles
crackled off of his face, hands and feet.

Yudovich stood rooted to the floor. He knew very well that no man could
touch that cable and live. But as he watched, the intruder handled it
with impunity, pulling a length of wire out of his pocket and making
some sort of a connection.

It was too much for the old man. Electricity was obviously being stolen.
He roared out at the top of his voice, and stumped over to the wall
where he threw the alarm switch. Immediately, a hundred arc lights
flashed on, lighting the level brighter than the noon sun, and a
tremendously loud siren started wailing its warning to the whole
countryside.

The intruder jumped up as though he had been stabbed. He dropped the
wires, and after a wild look around him, he ran at full speed toward the
far exit.

"Hold on there," Yudovich shouted and tried to give chase, but his
swollen, crooked knees almost collapsed with the effort.

His eyes fell on a large wrench lying on a worktable, and he snatched it
up and threw it with all his strength. In his youth he had been a ball
player with some local fame as a pitcher, and in his later life, he was
addicted to playing horseshoes. His aim was, therefore, good, and the
wrench sailed through the air striking the runner on the back of the
head. Sparks flew and there was a loud metallic clang, the wrench
rebounding high in the air. The man who was struck did not even turn his
head, but continued his panicky flight and was gone in a second.

When he realized there was no hope of effecting a capture, Yudovich
stumped over to see the amount of the damage. A hole had been torn in
the floor, but the cab