individuals, one in the red uniform of a
captain of police, the other a pompous, whiskered man in purple. Others
followed and it seemed to Karl that the room was filled with them,
strangers all, and they stared at him and chattered incessantly. He
experienced an overwhelming impulse to run, but mastered it and faced
them boldly.

A square of plate glass was placed under his outstretched fingers. It
was smeared with something sticky and he watched the whiskered man as he
held it up to the light and studied the impressions. Then there was more
confusion. Everyone talked at once and the pompous one in purple made
use of the radiovision, holding the square of glass near its disc for
observation by the person he had called. The identification number was
repeated aloud, a string of figures and letters that were a meaningless
jumble to Karl. The room became quiet while the police captain thumbed
the pages of a huge book he had taken from among many similar ones that
filled a rack behind the desk.

Karl's blood froze in his veins at the rumbling swish of a car speeding
through the pneumatic tube beneath their feet. His nerves were on edge.
Then the captain of police looked up from the book and there was a
peculiar glint in his eyes as he spoke.

"Peter Van Dorn. Missing since 2085. Wanted by Continental Government.
Ha!"

The words came to Karl's ears through a growing sensation of unreality.
It seemed that the speaker was miles away and that his voice and
features were those of a radiovision likeness. Wanted by the great power
across the Atlantic! It was unthinkable. Why, he had been but an infant
in 2085! What possible crime could he have committed? But the red police
captain was speaking again, this time in a chill voice. And the room of
the police, thick with the smoke of a dozen cigars, became suddenly
stifling.

"Where have you been these twenty-three years, Peter Van Dorn?" asked
the captain. "Who have you lived with, I mean?"

* * * * *

Something warned him to protect old Rudolph. And somehow he wished
he had not treated the old fellow as he did when he left. His
self-possession returned. A wave of hot resentment swept over him.

"That's my affair," he said defiantly.

The captain shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, well," he said, "you needn't
answer--now. We'll find out when it's necessary. In the meanwhile we'll
have to turn you over to the Continental Ambassador."

Two of the red