Franstein looked at his watch. "Let's sleep on it and see what happens tomorrow, eh?" He was on his way to the door when the telephone bell rang. Snow picked up the receiver, and he heard him say: "Sandra?... _What?_... I'll be right over. I've got Abe Franstein with me. I'll bring him with me. Don't worry dear." Snow hung up. "Something's happened to Richardson," he said. "He's gone into a deep sleep and won't wake, and he's talking to himself in some funny language. Let's go." Snow rummaged in a drawer of his desk and found a stethoscope. III Five minutes later, they were standing with pretty Sandra Richardson at the foot of the bed on which Richardson, clad in his pajamas, sprawled on his back. He was in a deep sleep and from his mouth came a low chanting. Franstein and Snow glanced at each other as they recognized the sounds. Snow tried to wake the astronaut, gently at first, then less so, but it had no effect. He used his stethoscope on heart and lungs, drew back an eyelid and examined the eye beneath, felt the brow. "When did this happen?" he asked the anxious Sandra. "About fifteen, maybe twenty minutes ago," she replied. "We came in here and undressed and I used the bathroom first. When I came out, I found him like this." "How's he been all the evening?" "Fine, just as I told you when you rang. Tom and Betty Moreland came for dinner and we played canasta. Is he all right?" "As far as I can see, yes. Heart, lungs, eyes all right, no fever. I guess we'll just have to wait till he wakes." They went into the sitting room and Sandra left them to make coffee. "He's living through something," Franstein said. "Pity you haven't got the recorder here." "I thought the same. I'll get it." Snow left and Franstein wandered back into the bedroom and leaned over Richardson. Now he was sure this was a language and that the sleeper was conversing with someone in his sleep. The expressions changed on Richardson's face rapidly as they do on the face of anyone during a conversation. At one moment he laughed as he said something, then became serious as he said something else. Sandra came into the bedroom and joined Franstein at the bedside. "He's never been like this before," she said worriedly. "Doesn't he ever talk in his sleep?" "He never even snores. When we were first married, he slept so quietly that I thought he'd stopped breathing, but I'd only have to touch him or whisper to him and he'd wake in an instant. What does this mean?" "We'll find out, never fear." They went back into the sitting room as they heard Snow return. He was carrying the recording machine, and seeing the question in Sandra's eyes as she saw it, he said reassuringly: "We're going to make a recording of what Ham's saying. We'll soon find out what this is all about."