"No telling what kind of a crazy fool idea he's got. No telling what kind of lies he'd tell about me!" "He's in trouble, Bud. We ought to--" "You listen to me! You do what I say! Don't pay any attention to anything he says. If you see him again, you call me!" "I think I'd better talk to Frank about it, Bud. Have you seen him?" Bud was on his feet and around the desk. He grabbed her shoulders and began to shake her. Her face drained of color. His nostrils flared white. "Bud! Bud! What's got into you?" "Frank's all right!" Bud cried. "Now, get out, get out, GET OUT!" He shoved her away from him. "Get out," he sobbed. Half dazed, she backed away, opened the door, and disappeared. Trembling, Bud sank into his chair. It was a long time before his breathing returned to normal. He counted his pulse with intense concentration, feeling it flutter like a wounded bird beneath his finger tips. CHAPTER XI Herb had no real hope of eluding capture. After he fled from Norma, he pulled his hat low over his face and hurried down the street. At the first hotel, he entered and registered and was shown his room. He fell on the bed; the room was fuzzy and dull. He wanted nothing more than to sleep. His mind was such a searing agony of doubt that he had to escape from it. He curled up warmly and nestled against the softness of the mattress and closed his eyes, trying to drive all thought from him, and he slept.... When he awoke, the room was heavy with darkness and silence, and he lay still, trying to feel the vibration of the ship's motors. The memory of a formless dream clung to his mind, and he tried to clarify it for the dream form. Awareness of his location came. He relaxed, wanted to sleep again, thought: no more dream forms, no more.... Other memories stirred and returned, and he was uneasily awake. He opened his eyes, growing tense. He held his breath. The dark around him concealed unknown dangers. He was still fully clothed, and he stood up. He found the light switch. With the bright flame of electricity he became aware of how heavy his head was; how incoherent his thoughts were; and there was a sour taste in his mouth. He blinked his eyes. The room was reassuringly normal. He went back to bed and lay down. His thoughts whirled. Beyond thought there was a great, tugging emptiness in his stomach, a sense of despair that seemed to dwell in every tiny muscle and radiate outward from every tiny blood vessel. The light made him naked, and he could not face his own nakedness. He turned out the light and returned to the bed. The dark was protective and reassuring now, and he closed his eyes. Bit by bit the sense of unreality fled. Dawn came. * * * * * The TV set sat squatly on the table across the room. Morning sunshine fell brightly through the Venetian blinds. Herb turned on the set to discover the latest news of his pursuit.