"That's all, I think. Mathematicians, physicists," the librarian ticked off upon pink fingers. "Astronomers, philosophers, and this new classification, which has not been named yet." "The H.T.T.'s." Kinnison glanced at the label, lightly lettered in pencil, fronting the slim packet of cards. "Aren't you going to run them through, too?" "No. These are the two I mentioned a minute ago--the only ones rating over seven hundred fifty." "A choice pair, eh? Sort of a _crème de la crème_? Let's look 'em over," and he extended his hand. "What do the initials stand for?" "I'm awfully sorry, sir, really," the girl flushed in embarrassment as she relinquished the cards in high reluctance. "If I'd had any idea, we wouldn't have dared--we call you, among ourselves, the 'High-Tension Thinkers.'" "Us!" It was the Lensman's turn to flush. Nevertheless, he took the packet and read sketchily the facer: "Class XIX--Unclassifiable at present--lack of adequate methods--minds of range and scope far beyond any available indices--Ratings above high genius (750)--yet no instability--power beyond any heretofore known--assigned rating tentative and definitely minimum." He then read the cards. "Worsel, Velantia, eight hundred five." And: "Kimball Kinnison, Tellus, nine hundred twenty-five!" IX. The Port Admiral was eminently correct in supposing that Boskone, whoever or whatever he or it might be, was already taking action upon what the Tellurian Lensman had done. For, even as Kinnison was at work in the Library of Science, a meeting which was indirectly to affect him no little was being called to order. In the immensely distant Second Galaxy was that meeting being held; upon the then planet Jarnevon of the Eich; within that sullen fortress already mentioned briefly. Presiding over it was the indescribable entity known to history as Eichlan; or, more properly, Lan of the Eich. "Boskone is now in session," that entity announced to the eight other like monstrosities who in some fashion indescribable to man were stationed at the long, low, wide bench of stonelike material which served as a table of State. "Nine days ago each of us began to search for whatever new facts might bear upon the activities of the as-yet-entirely-hypothetical Lensman who, Helmuth believed, was the real force back of our recent intolerable reverses in the Tellurian Galaxy.