Ursi shot an accusing look at Baldy who frowned. "They're vicious little children!" Ursi ranted. "The decision placing the tool on the restricted list is perfectly justified. We made no effort to hinder their atomic researches. But in the case of this tool.... They have the ingenuity to combine it with atomic bombs! If he returns with it, he'll wreck a thousand years of human culture!" Ursi's excited words puzzled Clark who was overcoming his early shock. But the cylinder in his pocket was still more baffling. What was it? What terrible power did it control? "Spare your world suffering." Ursi warned. "Surrender it to me." Clark considered. Sheltered by their "Law," he knew he could make a free decision. The thing was powerful. But they claimed it was exceedingly dangerous, and they seemed wiser, far wiser, than men. The mysterious force still binding him and their hints of "restrictions" on human progress convinced him of that. Still, possession was nine-tenths of any law.... He calculated nervously. "Well?" Ursi shrilled. "Your hands are now free to move." Obediently Clark groped in his pocket. When his fingertips touched the cool metal, the thrill of possessing immense power overwhelmed him. He sputtered, "It's mine--I won't misuse it!" Baldy convulsed with laughter. Ursi jabbered fiercely, but Baldy raised a thin claw. He spoke softly, and Ursi's eyes brightened. Ursi nodded, but whatever he had agreed to still left him looking doubtful and uncertain. Baldy smiled warmly. "Keep it," he said, "and keep your promise. Ursi doesn't trust you, but I do. I know you won't abuse this power." * * * * * Clark felt his body freeze rigid as a statue again. They pushed their way out of the clearing and disappeared. Overhead a bird chirped in loneliness, and the sky slowly turned pearly hued as the paralysis left him. Flexing his muscles, he shook his head. The creepy little men were all part of a crazy hallucination. His mad rabbit hunt and the deafening roar of his gunfire had temporarily unhinged his mind. A low humming sound interrupted his moody pondering. Suddenly he reeled as the ground shuddered beneath him and he staggered blindly in pitch darkness. He opened his eyes to look around, dazed. His shotgun was missing, but the shiny cylinder was clutched tightly in his hand. Clark trembled as he examined it. Along its length were etched a row of queer symbols. Probably directions for its operation or servicing, he decided. He aimed the knob at some rocks a few yards away and pressed the button. But they didn't explode or disintegrate under a lethal "ray." Then discovering that a narrow center section of the cylinder revolved by slow, even degrees, he tried again impatiently. A loud clatter made him look up, gaping. A cluster of rocks hung motionless in the air. When his finger lifted, they fell to earth. The mechanism neutralized gravitational pull--objects could float!