Joe and Eddie treated Ed Bronson to a wild ride through the city streets with the siren on full. They slid to a stop in front of a squat, dirty limestone building and they escorted him in--convoyed him in, to be exact, for one went in front and one followed up the rear. "I am Doctor Mason," said a white-clad man, meeting them in the corridor of the building. "Captain Norris told me you'd be coming." "Just abraded skin, doctor," said Ed, showing the doctor his wrists. "We'll take care of that instanter," smiled Doctor Mason. "Meanwhile, what's this tale you were telling Norris? Something about hearing voices? Threatening voices?" Bronson recoiled a bit. "Now, relax," said Mason. "Do you think I'm crazy?" asked Bronson sharply. "Of course not. You're not crazy, my boy. Just tell me--" "You--" "My friend, the symptoms of paranoia are simple and easy to determine. The hushed voices, in the earlier stages, merely talk about the victim. In a later stage the voices threaten. In still a later state the hushed voices take physical being and all too often it is someone entirely innocent of any malice. "Now this tale of people from another world, Mr. Bronson, must be faced for what it is. You are not crazy, my boy. Merely ill--no worse than a bad cold or influenza, for instance. But you are ill and you must be treated." "Treated?" exploded Bronson angrily. "Treated--for an imagined mental ailment when the earth itself is in danger of being invaded?" "The earth is not in danger," said the psychiatrist firmly. "And--" "I will not be--" "Violent, too," said Mason with a solemn shake of his head. "Normally, we try to gain the patient's confidence. But in advanced cases of paranoia, they will resent even altruism. Everything is suspected of plot. Now, Mr. Bronson, whether you believe that this is for your own good or not, you're coming with me. Will you come quietly or shall I have some orderlies bring you?" Bronson shook his head and turned to go. He walked into the waiting arms of Joe and Eddie, who subdued him easily because they were well trained in the art of handling men. Mason waved them on, and Bronson walked with both arms in hammerlock behind him. He could either walk or have both arms dislocated at the shoulder. Mason spoke to the policemen. "The thing that makes psychiatry tough is that the patient likes himself the way he is--just as all men do, really--and resents bitterly any suggestion that his personality be changed." "What do you intend to do?" asked Joe. "Electro-therapy," said the doctor in a decisive tone. Bronson writhed in both physical and mental anguish. He, the only man on earth that realized the danger, being dog-walked into a cell--accused of the crime of warning the earth of its fate! Outnumbered, overpowered and disbelieved! CHAPTER V _Head Start_ Leader Kingston shook his head. "Bronson is dangerous to us," he said.