I felt like an absolute fool saying those things; they were ridiculous notions. Imagine a man _thinking_ himself from one place to another! But--I had been on that gallery. I licked my lips and looked to Larry Connaught for confirmation. "I was all wet," Larry laughed. "Imagine!" I suppose I showed surprise, because he patted my shoulder. He said, becoming sober, "Sure, Dick, you're wrong, but you're right all the same. The mind alone can't do anything of the sort--that was just a silly kid notion. But," he went on, "_but_ there are--well, techniques--linking the mind to physical forces--simple physical forces that we all use every day--that can do it all. Everything! Everything I ever thought of and things I haven't found out yet. "Fly across the ocean? In a second, Dick! Wall off an exploding bomb? Easily! You saw me do it. Oh, it's work. It takes energy--you can't escape natural law. That was what knocked me out for a whole day. But that was a hard one; it's a lot easier, for instance, to make a bullet miss its target. It's even easier to lift the cartridge out of the chamber and put it in my pocket, so that the bullet can't even be fired. Want the Crown Jewels of England? I could get them, Dick!" I asked, "Can you see the future?" He frowned. "That's silly. This isn't supersti--" "How about reading minds?" * * * * * Larry's expression cleared. "Oh, you're remembering some of the things I said years ago. No, I can't do that either, Dick. Maybe, some day, if I keep working at this thing-- Well, I can't right now. There are things I can do, though, that are just as good." "Show me something you can do," I asked. He smiled. Larry was enjoying himself; I didn't begrudge it to him. He had hugged this to himself for years, from the day he found his first clue, through the decade of proving and experimenting, almost always being wrong, but always getting closer.... He _needed_ to talk about it. I think he was really glad that, at last, someone had found him out. He said, "Show you something? Why, let's see, Dick." He looked around the room, then winked. "See that window?" [Illustration] I looked. It opened with a slither of wood and a rumble of sash weights. It closed again. "The radio," said Larry. There was a _click_ and his little set turned itself on. "Watch it." It disappeared and reappeared. "It was on top of Mount Everest," Larry said, panting a little. The plug on the radio's electric cord picked itself up and stretched toward the baseboard socket, then dropped to the floor again. "No," said Larry, and his voice was trembling, "I'll show you a hard one. Watch the radio, Dick. I'll run it without plugging it in! The electrons themselves--" He was staring intently at the little set. I saw the dial light go on, flicker, and hold steady; the speaker began to make scratching noises. I stood up, right behind Larry, right over him.