teeth and rather bulbous eyes looked up at him. "Can I help you?" she
said in a fervent whine.

"I sincerely hope not," Malone said, backing away and managing to find
the corridor once more. After what seemed like a long time, and two
more sneezes, he found a small door which was labeled in capital
letters:

THE PSYCHICAL RESEARCH SOCIETY
SIR LEWIS CARTER
PRESIDENT

Malone sighed. "Well," he muttered, "they certainly aren't hiding
anything." He pushed at the door, and it swung open.

Sir Lewis was a tall, solidly-built man with a kindly expression. He
wore grey flannel trousers and a brown tweed jacket, which made an
interesting color contrast with his iron-grey hair. His teeth were
clenched so firmly on the bit of a calabash pipe with a meerschaum
bowl that Malone wondered if he could ever get loose. Malone shut the
door behind him, and Sir Lewis rose and extended a hand.

Malone went to the desk and reached across to take the hand. It was
firm and dry. "I'm Kenneth Malone," Malone said.

"Ah, yes," Sir Lewis said. "Pleased to meet you. Always happy, of
course, to do whatever I can for your FBI. Not only a duty, so to
speak, but a pleasure. Sit down. Please do sit down."

Malone found a chair at the side of the desk, and sank into it. It was
soft and comfortable. It provided such a contrast to O'Connor's
furnishings that Malone began to wish it was Sir Lewis who was
employed at Yucca Flats. Then he could tell Sir Lewis everything about
the case.

Now, of course, he could only hedge and try to make do without stating
very many facts. "Sir Lewis," he said, "I trust you'll keep this
conversation confidential."

"Naturally," Sir Lewis said. He removed the pipe, stared at it, and
replaced it.

"I can't give you the full details," Malone went on, "but the FBI is
presently engaged in an investigation which requires the specialized
knowledge your organization seems to have."

"FBI?" Sir Lewis said. "Specialized investigation?" He seemed pleased,
but a trifle puzzled. "Dear boy, anything we have is at your disposal,
of course. But I quite fail to see how you can consider us--"

"It's rather an unusual problem," Malone said, feeling that that was
the understatement of the year. "But I understand that your records go
back nearly a century."

"Quite true," Sir Lewis murmured.

"During that time," Malone said, "the Society investigated a great
many supposedly supernatural or sup