"One minute ago," said Archer, "that would have been true. And if you had thought of it a minute ago, instead of just now, things might have been different. But putting yourself in my position with respect to Evans, or in his with respect to me, was too big a step for your egocentric mind. You haven't quite done it yet, or you would understand this: "If you hadn't shown the aura, I would have known _instantly_ that I did. Also, Evans would have known about himself, immediately. But we didn't know, immediately. None of us did. And there is only one way we could all see it and remain uncertain. That is for all of us to have it. I didn't know, you both didn't know--and therefore I knew. Can you follow that?" After a pause, Archer went on: "Incidentally, I wouldn't let a dog die the way both of you are going to in the next few minutes unless you do something about it. That's why I've taken the trouble to explain it." Evans suddenly cleared his throat, and his voice came plaintively: "Uh--are you sure I've got it, Mr. Archer?" The necessity of the conclusion was clearly beyond him. "Quite sure," Archer returned, noting that Evans had sought the truth from him instead of his own colleague in crime. "That's good enough for me." Evans' motions showed dimly that he was making the injection. But Archer spared him only a glance and turned back to watching Stokely. The latter had not yet moved. "Okay, Stokely," said Archer, "I'll give you a better break than you'd give me--I'll prove it to you. You're facing me now. Raise either arm, and I'll tell you which one it is." Stokely seemed to hesitate, then raised both arms to the horizontal. "You're pretty sharp, at that," Archer told him, "when it comes to thinking from your own corner. You raised both of them." Stokely's arms dropped, but not all the way. There was a motion as of applying the hypodermic. Quickly, Archer drew the sleeves of his shirt over his arms. But he had counted too heavily on Stokely's preoccupation. The latter turned rigidly, as if continuing the injection, and fired. Archer felt a shock which spun him half around, but could not tell just where he was hit, for the moment. He began to run awkwardly through the loose rocks toward the sanctuary of the pile of boulders, raising his jacket high to screen his head. In doing so, the location of his wound became evident with a jab of pain. His left arm was useless. The next instant, the glaring beam of Stokely's flashlight picked him out, and the second bullet spanged against a boulder just as he ducked behind it, peppering his cheek with rock dust. Stooping low, Archer moved around the pile, as the crunching sound of Stokely's rapid footsteps came closer. He cursed the luck that had enabled Stokely to cripple him. He felt his paralyzed arm gingerly--the bullet had struck just below the shoulder, and he guessed that the bone was broken, but the wound did not seem to be bleeding much.