were a number of witnesses to the affair, and most of them have come
forward." He rubbed his hands together, then laid them on the desk.

"So, we know precisely what happened that far.

"And we have a pretty good idea of what happened to you later, of
course. This sort of thing has happened before. But by this time, you
should have had time to recover to a great extent. At least, you should
remember things much more clearly than you did when you wrote this
report last night." He touched the paper with a smile.

"And with a little prompting and information, you should be able to
fully recover your memory."

The smile became sympathetic. "Of course, I can understand your present
confusion and your complete disbelief in your change of orientation.
And I know it's quite an effort for a young man to admit he's been ...
well ... shall we say influenced? But believe me, it's no disgrace.
It's happened to quite a few others before you." He nodded
thoughtfully.

"In fact, we are beginning to believe this Petoen Waern, like his
uncle, is something of an adept at this sort of thing."

Don looked at him steadily.

"Do I act as though I were in a trance, sir?"

"Oh no. No, of course not. This sort of thing doesn't result in such a
manifestation. This is something much more subtle than mere, gross
hypnotism." Rayson smiled.

"However, you've had all night to partially recover. And these things
seldom are fully effective for more than a few hours--unless the
operator can get to his victim again, to fully fix the impression he
has created."

Rayson placed the palms of his hands together. "No, by this time, one
would expect your memories to be somewhat confused. So we can apply
therapeutic methods." He nodded.

"Now go ahead. Try running through the whole story. Perhaps we can get
a clue as to his methods. And if you have any ill effects remaining, I
think they can be quite easily eliminated. Now, suppose you start with
the time immediately after young Waern's attack on the Kelton boy."

* * * * *

Don shook his head wearily. "There was no such attack," he said. "It
was the other way around. A large sized chap who later gave his name to
me as Gerry Kelton, slapped a smaller fellow named Waern. At the time,
two other fellows were holding Waern's arms. Rather tightly, too."

Masterson interrupted, shaking his head disgustedly. "We've got plenty
of statements from witnesses. That is