uestion he had come
to ask. He spoke slowly, with a tone of disinterest. "Do either of you
know anything about hypnotism?" As a shocker, Elvin realized, it left
much to be desired; their faces told him nothing.

"A little," David volunteered.

"We read eight or nine books on it over the weekend," Donald added.

"That's a lot of reading. It must have taken a great deal of time."

"Oh, a couple of hours."

Elvin clenched his fists in futile anger, but he kept his voice steady.
"Is anybody else in the tenth grade reading up on hypnotism?"

"I suppose so," Donald admitted. "I'm not sure. Why don't you ask in
class tomorrow?"

"It occurs to me that a clever hypnotist could be responsible for what
happened at school today."

"Some of it; isn't that rather obvious? We'd like to go on talking, Mr.
Elvin, honest. But we have a lot of work to finish. It'll be bedtime
soon enough."

"But you know about hypnotism, don't you?"

"We know how it's done, yes, and its limitations so far as genuine
telepathy--"

"Who created that ridiculous scene in the auditorium?" Elvin's voice
rose as he tried to put on pressure.

"I wouldn't worry about the principal, Mr. Elvin, if I were you. He's
always been a neurotic."

"Mighty big words you're using these days, Donald. Where'd you hear
them?"

"The principal is a little man--mentally, I mean. He's afraid of people
because he isn't sure of himself. So he makes himself a tin god, a
dictator, just to show the rest of us--"

"I want to know where you picked all this up!"

Patiently the twins began to talk, taking turns at delivering an
improvised lecture in psychology, shot through with an array of highly
technical terms. As Elvin listened to their monotonous voices, he slowly
felt very tired. His head began to ache as his anger ebbed. More than
anything else, he wanted a long night's sleep. Yawning wearily, he
thanked the boys--for what, he wasn't quite sure--and went up to his
room.

* * * * *

Some time before dawn Elvin awoke for a moment. He thought he heard the
sound of a motor in the driveway, but he was too sleepy to get up to see
what it was. Two hours later he awoke to chaos.

Mrs. Schermerhorn was shaking his shoulder. He looked up into her white,
terrified face. Her hand trembled as she clutched her quilted robe close
to her throat.

"Mr. Elvin, they'll need your help. Mr. Schermerhorn's waiting for you."

He shook sleep out of