ve been less admired if I'd been made of pure
cyanide gas.

The judge rapped his gavel sharply. "I parole this prisoner in the
custody of Dr. Thorndyke, who as a representative of the Medical Center
will remove the prisoner to that place where the proper treatment awaits
him."

"Now see here--" I started. But His Honor cut me off.

"You'll go as I say," he snapped. "Unfortunately, the Law does not
permit me to enjoy any cruel or unusual punishments, or I'd insist upon
your ninety-day sentence and watch you die painfully. I--Bailiff! Remove
this menace before I forget my position here and find myself in contempt
of the law I have sworn to uphold. I cannot be impartial before a man
who contaminates my Court with the world's most dangerous disease!"

I turned to Thorndyke. "All right," I grunted. "You win."

He smiled again; I wanted to wipe that smile away with a set of knuckles
but I knew that all I'd get would be a broken hand against Thorndyke's
stone-hard flesh. "Now, Mr. Cornell," he said with that clinical
smoothness, "let's not get the old standard attitude."

"Nearly everybody who contracts Mekstrom's Disease," he said to the
judge, "takes on a persecution complex as soon as he finds out that he
has it. Some of them have even accused me of fomenting some big
fantastic plot against them. Please, Mr. Cornell," he went on facing me,
"we'll give you the best of treatment that Medical Science knows."

"Yeah," I grunted.

His Honor rapped on the gavel once more. "Officer Gruenwald," he
snapped, "you will accompany the prisoner and Dr. Thorndyke to the
Medical Center and having done that you will return to report to me that
you have accomplished your mission."

Then the judge glared around, rapped once more, and cried, "Case
Finished. Next Case!"

I felt almost as sorry for the next guy coming in as I felt for myself.
His Honor was going to be one tough baby for some days to come. As they
escorted me out, a janitor came in and began to swab the floor where I'd
been standing. He was using something nicely corrosive that made the
icy, judicial eyes water, all of which discomfort was likely to be added
to the next law-breaker's sorry lot.

* * * * *

I was in fine company. Thorndyke was a telepath and Officer Gruenwald
was perceptive. They went as a team and gave me about as much chance to
escape as if I'd been a horned toad sealed in a cornerstone. Gruenwald,
of course, treated