talism to Genius?"

"I have never heard of the work nor of the man," said Vincent. "I
doubt if either exists."

"I am Zurbarin," said the man.

Vincent hid his misshapen left thumb. Yet it could not have been
noticed in that light, and he must have been crazy to believe
there was any connection between it and the man's remark. It was
not truly a double thumb. He was not an extradigital, nor was he
a genius.

"I refuse to become interested in you," said Vincent. "I am on
the verge of leaving. I dislike waking the bartender, but I did
want another drink."

"Sooner done than said."

"What is?"

"Your glass is full."

"It is? So it is. Is it a trick?"

"Trick is the name for anything either too frivolous or too
mystifying for us to comprehend. But on one long early morning of
a month ago, you also could have done the trick, and nearly as
well."

"Could I have? How would you know about my long early
morning--assuming there to have been such?"

"I watched you for a while. Few others have the equipment to
watch you with when you're in the aspect."

So they were silent for some time, and Vincent watched the clock
and was ready to go.

"I wonder," said the man in the dark, "if you have read
Schimmelpenninck on the Sexagintal and the Duodecimal in the
Chaldee Mysteries?"

"I have not and I doubt if anyone else has. I would guess that
you are also Schimmelpenninck and that you have just made up the
name on the spur of the moment."

"I am Schimm, it is true, but I made up the name on the spur of a
moment many years ago."

"I am a little bored with you," said Vincent, "but I would
appreciate it if you'd do your glass-filling trick once more."

"I have just done so. And you are not bored; you are frightened."

"Of what?" asked Vincent, whose glass was in fact full again.

"Of reentering a dread that you are not sure was a dream. But
there are advantages to being both invisible and inaudible."

"Can you be invisible?"

"Was I not when I went behind the bar just now and fixed you a
drink?"

"How?"

"A man in full stride goes at the rate of about five miles an
hour. Multiply that by sixty, which is the number of time. When I
leave my stool and go behind the bar, I go and return at the rate
of three hundred miles an hour. So I am invisible to you,
particularly if I move while you blink."

"One thing does not match. You might have got around there and
back, but you could not have poured."

"Shall I