ay be able to deliver a thesis
on the cure that will qualify me for my scholarate."

I took a fast stab: "Doctor, how does my flesh differ from yours?"

Thorndyke parried this attention-getting question: "Mine is of no
consequence. Dig your own above and below the line of infection,
Cornell. If your sense of perception has been trained fine enough, dig
the actual line of infection and watch the molecular structure
rearrange. Can you dig that fine, Officer? Cornell, I hate to dwell at
length upon your misfortune, but perhaps I can help you face it by
bringing the facts to light."

#Like the devil you hate to dwell, Doctor Mekstrom!#

In the rear view mirror, his lips parted in a bland smile and one eyelid
dropped in a knowing wink.

I opened my mouth to make another stab in the open but Thorndyke got
there first. "Officer Gruenwald," he suggested, "you can help by putting
out your perception along the road ahead and seeing how it goes. I'd
like to make tracks with this crate."

Gruenwald nodded.

Thorndyke put the goose-pedal down and the car took off with a howl of
passing wind. He said with a grin, "It isn't very often that I get a
chance to drive like this, but as long as I've an officer with me--"

He was above one forty by the time he let his voice trail off.

I watched the back of their heads for a moment. At this speed, Thorndyke
would have both his mind and his hands full and the cop would be digging
at the road as far ahead as his perception could dig a clear
appreciation of the road and its hazards. Thorndyke's telepathy would be
occupied in taking this perception and using it. That left me free to
think.

I cast a dig behind me, as far behind me as my perception would reach.
Nothing.

I thought furiously. It resulted in nothing.

I needed either a parachute or a full set of Mekstrom Hide to get out of
this car now. With either I might have taken a chance and jumped. But as
it was, the only guy who could scramble out of this car was Dr. James
Thorndyke.

I caught his dropping eyelid in the rear view mirror again and swore at
him under my breath.

Time, and miles, went past. One after the other, very fast. We hissed
through towns where the streets had been opened for us and along broad
stretches of highway and between cars and trucks running at normal
speeds. One thing I must say for Thorndyke: He was almost as good a
driver as I.

* * * * *

My second arrival