precedent."

"And--?"

"Well, up to now there's no ruling about such a case; no child of ten has
ever left home to live as he prefers. But this James Holden is apparently
capable of doing just that--and any impartial judge deliberating such a
case would find it difficult to justify a decision that placed the
competent infant under the guardianship and protection of an adult who is
less competent than the infant."

Brennan's face turned dark. "You're saying that this Holden kid is
smarter than I am?"

"Sit down and stop sputtering," snapped Manison. "What were you doing at
six years old, Brennan? Did you have the brains to leave home and protect
yourself by cooking up the plausible front of a very interesting
character such as the mythical Hermit of Martin's Hill? Were you writing
boys' stories for a nationwide magazine of high circulation and
accredited quality? Could you have planned your own dinner and prepared
it, or would you have dined on chocolate bars washed down with strawberry
pop? Stop acting indignant. Start thinking. If for no other reason than
that we don't want to end up selling pencils on Halstead Street because
we're not quite bright, we've got to lay our hands on that machine. We've
got to lead, not follow. Yet at the present time I'll wager that your
James Holden is going to give everybody concerned a very rough time. Now,
let me figure out the angles and pull the wires. One thing that nobody
can learn from any electronic machine is how to manipulate the component
people that comprise a political machine. I'll be in touch with you,
Brennan."

* * * * *

The ring at the door was Chief of Police Joseph Colling and another
gentleman. Janet Fisher answered the door, "Good evening, Mr. Colling.
Come in?"

"Thank you," said Colling politely. "This is Mr. Frank Manison, from the
office of the State Department of Justice."

"Oh? Is something wrong?"

"Not that we know of," replied Manison. "We're simply after some
information. I apologize for calling at eight o'clock in the evening, but
I wanted to catch you all under one roof. Is Mr. Fisher home? And the
children?"

"Why, yes. We're all here." Janet stepped aside to let them enter the
living room, and then called upstairs. Mr. Manison was introduced around
and Tim Fisher said, cautiously, "What's the trouble here?"

"No trouble that we know of," said Manison affably. "We're just after
some information about the ed