"Good morning, Mr. Caples. Gentlemen." Although he closed the door gently, the click of it sounded loud in the silence. "I hope I'm not late." "Right on the dot, Ray. Glad to see you. Pick a comfortable chair." The president smoothed the crumpled letter in front of him on the desk and waved the silent Halleck to a seat. "You can order that coffee now, young man." When Taplin had called for the coffee and started the recording machine, G. W. Caples addressed the newcomer again with heavy, executive affability. It was authentic enough to ease the watch-spring tension in the room. "Before we start, Ray, keep it in mind that this isn't a trial or anything like that. I, for one, have an open mind. If your record hadn't been beyond reproach, you wouldn't be a research plant manager in the first place." "Thank you." "But your letter here mentions an unauthorized experiment that cost $300,000, a missing man--two missing men, in fact--your fear of ugly publicity and--well, various other details that leave me thoroughly confused. Now, you're going to give us all the facts--not as a culprit, but as a trusted official." "I appreciate that, sir. Shall I begin at the beginning?" "Yes. Forget the letter. Begin where you like." "Well, first, you know Dr. Wilson Reed, the archeologist. Top man in the field. He made the Yucatan discoveries and located the Poseidon Tablets in the vaults under the Sphinx--the newspapers called him the 'Columbus of the Past.' But I don't need to tell you that. This all began with a letter I had from Dr. Reed shortly after he left for his second expedition to Egypt." * * * * * Caples nodded. "I know his reputation, but I never met the man." "That's one of the many things I don't understand, Mr. Caples." Raymond Donner sat on the edge of the leather lounge chair and kneaded his long, thin hands. "You see, the letter asked me to cooperate with Simon Kane in every way and there was an interoffice memo from you enclosed, instructing me to do so, written in your own handwriting." Caples leaned across the desk, startled. "A memo from _me_! Now see here, Ray--Where is the memo? Where's the letter?" "They're gone, Mr. Caples. They were stolen." The buzzer sounded and a cheerful redhead brought in a tray with four cups, cream and sugar bowls and a large aluminum coffee urn. It remained untouched on the desk when she had gone. "I see. They were stolen." The president's casual manner was gone and the tension returned unchecked. "Go on." "I'm sorry, sir. But the letter and memo were the keys to the whole business. And I want to remind you at the beginning that I'm not a scientist or an aviation engineer, but an administrative officer--" "Maybe we should say you _were_." "Shut up, Halleck! Let him go on." The president glanced at the recorder spinning silently and drew short, angry puffs on his cigar.