"She sure can. I'll call headquarters and get a special detail here at once." Gently Rocks led her to her room. Better than anyone else, he knew how impossible it was to put into words anything that would make her feel better. Only time could do that. And now that the terrible death had struck twice, he knew that Penny might be in danger. No one could tell where it would strike again. Or why. It was a death that came in silence. It came out of nowhere, struck, and passed back into nowhere, leaving no clues behind it. It had come out of a metal box found in the tomb of a king forgotten for six thousand years. It was older than the king. It was older than history. It came out of the black past of the planet with horrible, monstrous death. Sharp had seen it--a creature of planes and angles, flashing lights, a creature that disappeared at will, and reappeared elsewhere. It had been here in this home, and had struck down a man. It might be here still, watching, waiting. Penny cried as she lay on her bed and wiped the tears away, and tried to think. How had it entered the house? The doors had been locked. Of course it could have secured entrance through an open window, but how had it passed so unerringly through the rooms, seeking out her grandfather? Why had it killed him? Did he threaten its existence? Penny tried to think, and tried not to. Rocks talked to Kennedy. The burly detective said, "If this was an ordinary murder, I would know how to handle it. The first thing we always look for is the motive. When we find that, we've got the killer. But there's no motive here--there's not anything. Frankly, Malone, I'm up a tree. We've got to find that thing, and destroy it, quickly. Supposing it should start wandering loose through the streets of Chicago--" The detective shuddered. "Malone, if you have any ideas, let's have them. I admit I don't know what to do." Rocks had been thinking too. "This thing came out of that box back in the museum. If the secret of controlling it is anywhere, it's written on the lid of that box." He gritted his teeth. "I don't think we have a chance in a million of cracking that language, but right now it's the only thing I see to try." "We'll go back to the museum," said Kennedy. "I can't help with the language, but I want another look around that place." The authorities responsible in cases of sudden death had already arrived at the McCumber home. Kennedy left a special detail to guard Penny. He and Rocks went back to the museum. Rocks went to work. He began to try to crack the hieroglyphics written on the lid of the box. That his task was all but impossible, he well knew. He could read Sanskrit, Babylonian cuneiform, and Egyptian picture writing with fair readiness. He could translate ancient Hebrew and ancient Greek. An archeologist had to know these languages. He thought the writing on the box might be in one of these languages. He began with Morton's notes.