Calvin almost ran to his wife. She was standing in front of the color
organ. "Dear," he said, and halted.

"Yes, what is it, Calvin?"

"I don't know. I was going to say--"

A sluggishness was pervading his body, a terrible lassitude crept
through his brain. What was it? What was happening?

"I was going to--"

He caught her as she slumped, but could not hold up her weight, and sank
to the floor beside her. His eyes blinked a couple of times. Then
knowledge and sensation vanished together.

VII

Tom Watkins awoke slowly. He had a cramp in one arm from sleeping on it,
but otherwise he was conscious of a comfortable, healthy feeling, which
told him he'd slept well and long. He stretched and brushed a few pieces
of straw from his face.

Straw?

He suddenly remembered sitting down on their platform, very sleepy and
worried because of the abruptness of it.

He sat up. Summersby had just stood, yawning. "Did you carry me in
here?" he asked the big man.

"I was going to ask you that."

"Christ! What happened?" He was wholly awake now. "Did you drop off out
in the lab?"

"Yeah."

"So'd I," said Adam. He was sitting next to the Mexican, whom he now
pushed gently. "You okay, Porfirio?"

Villa erupted with a grunt. The Fulls were looking at each other
owlishly.

And then it hit him. Watkins twisted, cased the floor, and saw nothing
but straw and fountain and tree trunks. He was literally staggered, and
nearly lost his balance.

His briefcase was gone!

He stared about wildly, panic lifting in him like a swift debilitating
disease. Then he took four fast steps and grabbed Summersby by the coat.
It was queer, but he didn't even think of anyone else having taken it.
Summersby towered over him, but he could be brought down.

"Okay, you skyscraper," said Watkins, "where'd you put it?"

"Put what?"

"My case! Where is it?"

"I never touched your damned case."

Well, Watkins could smell honesty, and here it was. That startled
amazement was genuine. He glared at Adam Pierce, Villa, the Fulls. Not
that last pair, surely! As rock-ribbed and staunchly honest as their New
England coasts, and about as imaginative. Not the colored boy, either, a
good kid; and he didn't think it was Villa.

"We must have been carried in here by the scientists," said Adam
rationally. "Maybe they left it outside."

That was logical. But he'd had a death-grip on the handle when he fell
asleep, just as he always did. He looked