vement. Such a patient would hear the
soft discussions of the surgeons, see them prepare their instruments,
yet be unable to tell them that he wasn't entirely unconscious.

- - -

Barter stooped over Bentley and rolled back the lids of his eyes.

"Good. Naka Machi!" he said. "He won't be in any position to do us an
injury. Remain powerless, Lee Bentley, but retain your knowledge."

Barter, then, was familiar with the strange hypnosis which the blow of
Naka Machi's hand had put upon Bentley. Barter had taken advantage of
it to add to it a sort of mental paralysis, so that the condition
would continue.

"You are in my hands, Lee," he said in paternal fashion, "but you can
do me no harm. Since you were associated with me in the first of my
great experiments you know much about me. I have never ceased to hope
that you would one day understand and appreciate what I am doing for
humanity and be brought to aid me. Perhaps if I force you to watch my
efforts you will understand them and sympathize with my ambitions."

Bentley could say nothing. Barter's eyes seemed to leap at him growing
large and glaring, just as the eyes of caricatured animals leap at the
camera in trick motion pictures. Physically he was powerless. Only his
brain was active.

"Remove this covering from him, Naka Machi," went on Barter. "Remove
his bonds. You are about his size. Garb him in some of your own
clothing."

Bentley had the odd feeling that he didn't need to turn his head to
see things around him. His head felt huge, almost to bursting, and his
eyes felt huge, too, so that he could see in all directions, as though
his eyeballs had been fish-eye lenses.

- - -

He studied Naka Machi. A nasty opponent in a fight, he decided. He
hadn't figured on any opponent other than Barter. This man was almost
as great. The skill of his fingers as he quickly removed the ape skin
from Bentley, using scalpels taken from Barter's table, amazed Bentley
with their miraculous dexterity. He cleaned Bentley's body with some
solution in a sponge and clothed him in some of his own clothing which
fitted fairly well.

Then he lifted Bentley from the floor and stood him against the wall.

Bentley was unbound. He tried to lift his hands but they refused to
move. His feet, too, seemed anchored to the floor. His knees were
stiff and straight. He might as well have been a wooden image for all
his ability to get about.

Now Barter spoke.