Burris muttered. "What are you going to do with
them, Malone?"

"I was hoping you might have some kind of suggestion," Malone said.

"Me?"

"Well," Malone said, "I suppose I'll figure it out. When I catch them.
But I did want something from you, Chief."

"Anything, Malone," Burris said. "Anything at all."

"I want you to get hold of Dr. O'Connor, out at Yucca Flats, if you
can. He's the best psionics man Westinghouse has right now, and I
might need him."

"If you say so," Burris said doubtfully.

"Well," Malone said, "these kids are teleports. And maybe there's some
way to stop a teleport. Give him a good hard kick in the psi, for
instance."

"In the what?"

"Never mind," Malone said savagely. "But if I'm going to get any
information on what makes teleports tick, I'm going to have to get it
from Dr. O'Connor. Right?"

"Right," Burris said.

"So get in touch with Dr. O'Connor," Malone said.

"I'll have him call you," Burris said. "Meanwhile--well, meanwhile
just carry on, Malone. I've got every confidence in you."

"Thanks," Malone growled.

"If anybody can crack a case like this," Burris said, "it's you."

"I suppose it had better be," Malone said, and rang off.

Then he started to think. The notebook wasn't in his pockets. He
checked every one, even the jacket pocket where he usually kept a
handkerchief and nothing else. It wasn't anywhere on his person.

Had he left it in his room?

He thought about that for several minutes, and finally decided that he
hadn't. He hadn't taken it out of his pocket, for one thing, and if it
had fallen to the ground he couldn't have helped seeing it. Of course
he'd put his wallet, keys, change, and other such items on the
dresser, and then replaced them in his pockets in the morning. But he
could remember how they'd looked on the dresser.

The notebook hadn't been there among them.

Now that he came to think of it, when had he seen the notebook last?
He'd shown it to Lieutenant Lynch during the afternoon, and then he'd
put it back in his pocket, and he hadn't looked for it again.

So it had to be somewhere in one of the bars he'd visited, or at the
theater where he and Dorothy had seen _The Hot Seat_.

Proud of himself for this careful and complete job of deduction, he
strolled out and, giving Boyd and the Agent-in-Charge one small smile
each, to remember him by, he went into the sunlight, trying to decide
which place to check first.

He settled on the thea