The lead block quivered strangely, undergoing some queer transformation. Its outlines became blurred and vague. It shrank, dissolved; became infinitesimal bits of dust in Morgan's palm. Jonathan bent and blew on the dust and it fluttered away. He looked at Doctor Wooden with a wry smile. "I can do anything, Doctor. I can grow or become small. I can destroy or I can--create!" "Well," the Chief breathed gustily. "I almost believe you. Whew! Man, do you realize the vast vistas that are opening for you? With power such as that ... oh, my God! How trite I am after seeing--that!" "Does sort of stun you," agreed Jonathan dryly. "Doctor, do you think this gift was given to me for a--reason?" The Chief glanced sharply at his assistant, then nodded slightly. "Go on, Jonathan. Tell me what's on your mind." * * * * * Jonathan Morgan stalked up and down the laboratory aisle, his tall body graceful as the stalking panther, his great shoulders illy fitted in the smeared lab smock. He was a big man. Conference football and baseball had added lithe muscles to the frame that was his heritage from a family of farmers. Black hair, cut crew above a high-cheeked, tanned face, and coal black eyes that were alert as a watching cat, added to his look of fitness. "I've known of this power since last night," he said slowly. "We were at Mrs. Gordon's bridge, remember? I was sitting there with that blamed cup on my knees wishing I didn't have to drink it, when my mind went blank. Absolutely blank. "It was like being suspended in a dark vault, with someone working on your mind. I could _feel_ what they--or _it_, was doing to me. Oh, it didn't hurt. It was just a sense of--awareness. As though someone were operating on me with instruments of telepathy. Knowing just what to do, and going there and getting it over with, quickly. When the feeling went away, I was still sitting there. I hadn't moved, and no one had noticed anything. It had been accomplished in an incredibly short space of time. "I recall looking at the tea in the cup, and wishing with all my heart it was a stiff drink. And when I put it to my lips, it was just that--the best liquor I've ever tasted in my life. "I needed that drink. Especially in view of the fact that it was a drink. Then I thought I heard a voice, whispering to me from far away. I sat still and listened. But the voice, or whatever it was, couldn't get through to me. It tried desperately to tell me something, but the connection was wrong. It gave up after a while." Jonathan took the cigarette the doctor handed him and puffed in on it, standing in a patch of sunlight, gazing down at the flooring. "On the way home, I got to wondering about what had happened. I thought, maybe somebody's made a present to me of terrific mental powers. I looked up at the moon, and wondered about it. "The idea came to me: why not concentrate on the moon, and see what would happen. It was to be a test, you see.