away. It had
climbed the cliff over Coburn's head.

The outside of Dillon looked remarkably like something made out of
foam-rubber. Coburn touched it, insanely.

He heard his own voice saying flatly: "It's a sort of suit. A suit that
looks like Dillon. He was in it. Something was! Something is playing the
part of Dillon. Maybe it always was. Maybe there isn't any Dillon."

He felt a sort of hysterical composure. He opened the chest. It was
patently artificial. There were such details on the inside as would be
imagined in a container needed to fit something snugly. At the edges of
the opening there were fastenings like the teeth of a zipper, but
somehow different. Coburn knew that when this was fastened there would
be no visible seam.

Whatever wore this suit-that-looked-like-Dillon could feel perfectly
confident of passing for Dillon, clothed or otherwise. It could pass
without any question for--

Coburn gagged.

_It could pass without question for a human being._

Obviously, whatever was wearing this foam-rubber replica of Dillon was
not human!

Coburn went back to where he had to climb down the cliffside again. He
moved like a sleep-walker. He descended the fifty-foot cliff by the
crevices and the single protruding rock-point that had helped him get
up. It was much easier going down. In his state of mind it was also more
dangerous. He moved in a sort of robot-like composure.

He moved toward the girl, trying to make words come out of his throat,
when a small rock came clattering down the cliff. He looked up. Dillon
was in the act of swinging to the first part of the descent. He came
down, very confident and assured. He had two camera-cases slung from his
shoulders. Coburn stared at him, utterly unable to believe what he'd
seen ten minutes before.

Dillon reached solid ground and turned. He smiled wryly. His shirt was
buttoned. His tie was tied.

"I hoped," he said ruefully to Janice Ames, "that the Bulgars would
toddle off. But they left a guard in the village. We can't hope to take
an easier trail. We'll have to go back the way you came. We'll get you
safe to Salonika, though."

The girl smiled, uneasily but gratefully.

"And," added Dillon, "we'd better get started."

He gallantly helped the girl remount her donkey. At the sight, Coburn
was shaken out of his numbness. He moved fiercely to intervene. But
Janice settled herself in the saddle and Dillon confidently led the way.
Coburn grimly walked