e got a shock! This man was different ... Hanlon could not touch
that mind at all! There was a sort of an ... an alien feeling there he
could not quite fathom. It was like no other mind he had ever tried to
read.

But he was careful not to let his face show anything of his inner
thoughts as he saluted them gravely after that first brief pause.

Then suddenly he made his face show a boyish enthusiasm ... almost a
naivete. "Maybe Mr. Panek has already told you about me. I'm looking for
a chance to make a flock of credits ... and I'm not too particular how I
get 'em."

But his mind was tense and anxious. What was their game? And this fellow
behind the desk, this leader. Who was he? Hanlon knew he would have a
real job finding out those answers ... but knew he must!

The leader nodded suavely. "That is a very ... uh ... commendable
desire," he said in a low, gentle voice that was a perfect match for his
outward appearance of high gentility. "We can always use a good man," he
continued, "who isn't afraid ... nor too squeamish."

"A trigger-man?" Hanlon shrugged. "If it pays well, okay."

The man seemed to recoil, his delicate hands fluttering in the air
almost femininely. "No, no, my dear young man. You misunderstood me
entirely. We do nothing so crude, so vulgar, so ... so brutal.
Oh, sometimes we ... uh ... sometimes an accident happens to
someone. But nothing, you understand, that we have anything to
do with. Your technique with the poor Mr. Abrams, who was so suddenly
taken ... ill ... had led me to hope you had more finesse."

"I beg your pardon," Hanlon's tone was now one of apology. "I can
finesse, all right, but I didn't know you wanted me to talk that way in
private. I'll remember, and respect your wishes from now on."

Inwardly he was puzzled. He kept trying to touch that mind, but could
not. Was the guy human--or did he have a mind-control of some sort? Was
he used to mind-reading, so that he had developed a defense against it?

Or--and Hanlon almost caught his breath in momentary fear--was this ape
a mind reader? A real one, not a dub like himself?

But the leader was answering, still in that gentle tone, as though
nothing had happened. "So ... so ... that is good. I hate the thought of
bloodshed, and I will not countenance roughness in actions or speech. It
is regrettable, of course, that sometimes men are stupid enough to
oppose us, but ..." and again that almost feminine gesture.

This was the silk