when he heard a sudden gasp. He looked up to see a young
matron standing before him, her mouth and eyes wide with surprise.

"Why ... why, Gypsy never did any tricks before. What are you, an animal
trainer?"

Hanlon leaped to his feet. "The best in the Universe, Madam," he
grinned. "That's a mighty fine puppy you have. He came over and
introduced himself, and we've been having some fun together."

"Yes, he ran off, and I've been hunting all over for him. But how on
earth did you ever teach him so quickly?"

"It's a gift," Hanlon mocked, then grew serious. "Honestly, Madam, I
don't know," he said quietly. "I just seem to have a way with dogs, is
all. By the way, would you sell me the puppy?"

"Sell Gypsy? No, thanks," and she started away, calling to the dog to
follow. But it stood in indecision, looking from one to the other, not
seeming to know whether to follow its beloved mistress or to stay and
play with this nice new friend.

Hanlon quickly reached out to the dog's mind and impressed on it that it
must follow the woman, and always do whatever she told it. The puppy
then trotted away, content.

George Hanlon sank into his deck chair. This required a good think--a
mighty serious think--he told himself. He would have to work on this as
much as on human minds. For if he could control animals--would it work
on birds, or insects? Maybe even fish?--then he could get into places
he, as a man, could not go.

The lady and dog had disappeared when Hanlon got the inspiration to see
if his mind could find them; if he could again contact the dog when it
was not in sight, and he did not know exactly where it was.

Instantly, effortlessly, it seemed, as though it happened merely because
he wished it to, he found himself again inside the puppy's mind. Was it
because he already knew that mind's pattern, he wondered?

Anyway, there he was, and now he tried to see if he could look out
through Gypsy's eyes ... and after much study, he did so. But the vision
was so distorted he wondered if his control was at fault, then
remembered having heard, or read somewhere, that a dog's eyes do not
work exactly the same as a man's.

Finally he accustomed himself to them enough so he could see that they
were going down a narrow corridor, and then they stopped before a door,
which opened after a moment. The dog, without a command, leaped through
the doorway into the stateroom and ran to its basket, where it lay,
panting, looking up at i