t his wet little eyes were wary.
"Nobody was really watching, I suppose."

"I was watching," I told him flatly.

He looked at me silently for a moment.

"I was between you and the grenade," I said. "You didn't go past me,
over me, or through me. But you were on top of the grenade."

He started to shake his head.

I said, "Also, Larry, you fell _on_ the grenade. It exploded underneath
you. I know, because I was almost on top of you, and it blew you clear
off the floor of the gallery. Did you have a bulletproof vest on?"

* * * * *

He cleared his throat. "Well, as a matter of--"

"Cut it out, Larry! What's the answer?"

He took off his glasses and rubbed his watery eyes. He grumbled, "Don't
you read the papers? It went off a yard away."

"Larry," I said gently, "I was there."

He slumped back in his chair, staring at me. Larry Connaught was a small
man, but he never looked smaller than he did in that big chair, looking
at me as though I were Mr. Nemesis himself.

Then he laughed. He surprised me; he sounded almost happy. He said,
"Well, hell, Dick--I had to tell somebody about it sooner or later. Why
not you?"

I can't tell you all of what he said. I'll tell most of it--but not the
part that matters.

I'll never tell _that_ part to _anybody_.

Larry said, "I should have known you'd remember." He smiled at me
ruefully, affectionately. "Those bull sessions in the cafeterias, eh?
Talking all night about everything. But you remembered."

"You claimed that the human mind possessed powers of psychokinesis," I
said. "You argued that just by the mind, without moving a finger or
using a machine, a man could move his body anywhere, instantly. You said
that nothing was impossible to the mind."

I felt like an absolute fool saying those things; they were ridiculous
notions. Imagine a man _thinking_ himself from one place to another!
But--I had been on that gallery.

I licked my lips and looked to Larry Connaught for confirmation.

"I was all wet," Larry laughed. "Imagine!"

I suppose I showed surprise, because he patted my shoulder.

He said, becoming sober, "Sure, Dick, you're wrong, but you're right
all the same. The mind alone can't do anything of the sort--that was
just a silly kid notion. But," he went on, "_but_ there are--well,
techniques--linking the mind to physical forces--simple physical forces
that we all use every day--that can do it all. Everything! Everything I