the women on the steps and headed down West End,
trying not to seem in a hurry. His eyes turned up to the roof of the
garage, but he could see nothing there; he'd half-expected that the
slim young man would be parked up on the roof, waiting.

* * * * *

Then the fear began, mounting slowly. He jerked around quickly,
scanning the street. For a second, he thought he saw the slim figure,
but it was only a back turned to him, and it disappeared into a
barber-shop. Probably someone else.

The fear mounted a little, and he found his steps quickening. He cut
around the corner, where men were crowded into a little restaurant. He
was heading into a dead-end street, but there was an alley leading
from it. He had to keep off the main streets.

Footsteps sounded behind him.

He moved faster, and the footsteps also speeded up. He slowed, and
they kept on. Then they were nearly behind him, just as he reached the
alley and jerked back into it, grabbing for a broken bottle he had
spotted.

"Will!" It was a gasping wheeze. "Will! For God's sake, it's only me.
I know everything--your amnesia. But let me explain!"

It stopped him. He held the bottle carefully, as the fat figure of an
old man stepped softly around the corner, fear written on every aged
wrinkle. It was the man he'd stumbled into when he dashed out of his
apartment.

But the fear there matched his own so completely that he dropped the
bottle. The other man stood trembling, gasping for breath. Then he
gathered himself together, though his pudgy hands still clenched
tightly, showing white knuckles.

"Will," he repeated. "You must believe me. I know about you. I want to
help you--if there's any help for you, God forgive us both. And God
have mercy on Earth. It's worse than you can believe--and different.
It's...."

Horror washed over the old man's face. He stood, fighting within
himself. Hawkes felt his own back hairs lift, and he drew back. For a
second, the fat man seemed to waver before him, as if his body was
only a projection. Then it quieted.

"It--it almost had me for a second."

He turned back to Hawkes, trying to control the quivering muscles in
his face. But his victory was still incomplete when he suddenly leaped
up.

"Get back, Will. Oh, God, O God!"

He leaped outwards, his fat old legs pumping savagely. Then the air
seemed to quiver.

[Illustration]

Where he had been, there was only a dark cloud of smoke, spre