The detectives were pale, their faces bloodless. How much they had really understood of Sharp's description was open to doubt. Only a mathematical physicist could have grasped all the possibilities he had opened, and the cops weren't physicists. But they were alert. One had half-drawn his run. They were warily looking around the room. "What did you do then?" McCumber persisted. "We naturally spent some time searching the basement. When we found nothing, I began to suspect we were the victims of an illusion, that nothing had really come out of the box, that our imaginations were playing us tricks. Consequently, since it was already late in the afternoon, I departed. I thought nothing more of the matter until the police called me and told me that a man was dead here. Then I instantly realized that something had come out of the box, something utterly foreign to the science of our present day, something of which we have no knowledge, but which may be here now, watching us, waiting to pounce on its next victim--" He subsided, and Kennedy, looking closely at him, shoved him a chair. "Here, sir. You had better sit down." Sharp almost collapsed. "Thanks," he muttered. "One further question," McCumber said. "Where was the box sitting when Morton opened it?" "Why--" Sharp looked startled. "On that heavy table." He pointed to a table across the room. "But it's on the scales now," McCumber said, nodding his head toward it. "Yes, it is," Sharp answered. "Mr. Morton must have moved it after I left." McCumber turned to the detectives. "Gentlemen, if I may suggest it, I think it would be wise to search the museum." The detectives looked like they didn't enjoy the task, but they went about it efficiently, guns drawn. The others remained in the basement. Sharp kept up a running fire of nervous conversation, to which McCumber paid little attention. The old archeologist seemed to be lost in thought. Kennedy returned. The detective was very pale. "We didn't find anything," he said. "We still don't know whether it's here or not. But we can't take a chance of that thing getting loose. We'll stay here, as a guard." He looked sharply at McCumber and the business manager. "If I may suggest it, this has been quite a strain on you. Perhaps it would be best if you went home and rested. However if someone who is familiar with the museum will stay--" "I'll stay," said Rocks. "No," Penny protested. "If that thing should attack you--" Over her protests, Rocks stayed. However he walked out to the car with them. Sharp came out of the museum with them, but he had his own car, and drove off immediately. McCumber settled himself in the seat, and Penny, still protesting, slid under the wheel. "What do you think, sir?" Rocks queried. "Do you have any suggestions about looking for that--thing?"