queazy, but I'm feeling better all the
time."

"I'm glad. But be sure and call if I can be of any service."

"Thank you, I will." Hanlon reached in his pocket and slipped a credit
note into the man's hand.

And as the steward walked away Hanlon's mind was instantly whirling with
this newly-discovered ability. He was astonished and delighted, of
course ... but a little disturbed, too.

"I was actually inside the guy's mind!" he thought in amazement. "That's
a new one! I was never able to do that before. I really read his
thoughts! I've got to find out more about this. Let's see, now, how did
I do it?"

Chapter 7

George Hanlon glanced about the observation deck and saw at some
distance the young man who had sat at the same dining table. Hanlon
grinned a bit, and directed his mind that way.

To the best of his memory, he concentrated on doing the same thing he
had done when he got inside the steward's mind. For long, anxious
minutes he tried. He felt tense, and the strain made his heart pound. At
last he sank back into his chair.

"The other was just a fluke, I guess," he frowned in frustration and
disgust at himself. "I keep thinking I'm getting good--then _flooie_!"
He idly sent his mind towards the boy again ... and suddenly found
himself once more within another person's mind.

It was a strange, weird feeling ... this getting two sets of thoughts at
the same time. Also, Hanlon felt a bit as though he was a trespasser in
some forbidden temple. Yet he persevered, trying to see if he could read
anything there ... and was disappointed to find he could peruse and
understand only the fleeting surface thoughts.

With all his might, in every way he could think of, he tried to probe
back and beneath those passing thought-concepts, but could get no
information whatever of the young man's past or knowledge. Only vacuous,
self-centered thoughts which were flowing idly through the youth's mind
were available to him.

He wondered if he could influence the other to do something. If he could
control another's mind--even just a little--it would really help in his
work. So he now tried every method his agile mind could imagine, to make
the fellow pick up the book that lay beside his chair. He concentrated
on it, he insisted, he willed it. But in vain--he could make no
impression whatever.

Hanlon withdrew his mind. "I've no control," he thought to himself. "I
can't take over his mind in any way. Neither can I re