The jeweller closed one eye and studied first myself and then the beautiful thing against the ceiling. “What do you make of it?” he asked. Really I had not made anything; it was a bit of a shock; I hadn't grasped the full impossibility. I didn't answer. “Don't you see, Mr. Wendel? Impossible! Contrary to nature! Lighter than air. We took it out of the ring and it shot out like a bullet. Thought I'd dropped it. Began looking on the floor. Couldn't find it; looked up and saw Reynolds, here, with his eyes popping out like marbles. He was looking at the ceiling.” I thought for a moment. “Then it is not a gem?” He shrugged his shoulders. “Not if I'm a jeweller. Whoever heard of a stone without weight? It has no gravity, that is, apparently. I doubt whether it is a substance. I don't know what it is.” It was puzzling. I would have given a good deal just then for a few words with Dr. Holcomb. The man, Kennedy, had kept it in his pocket. How had he held it a prisoner? The professor had use for it in some scientific work! No wonder! Certainly it was not a jewel. What could it be? It was solid. It was lighter than air. Could it be a substance? If not; what is it? “What would you advise?” In answer the jeweller reached for the telephone. He gave a number. “Hello. Say, is Ed there? This is Phil. Tell him to step to the phone. Hello! Say, Ed, I want you to come over on the jump. Something to show you. Too busy! No, you're not. Not for this. I'm going to teach you some chemistry. No; this is serious. What is it? I don't know. What's lighter than air? Lots of things? Oh, I know. But what solid? That's why I'm asking. Come over. All right. At once.” He hung up the receiver. “My brother,” he spoke. “It has passed beyond my province and into his. He is a chemist. As an expert he may give you a real opinion.” Surely we needed one. It was against reason. It had taken me completely off my balance. I took a chair and joined the others in the contemplation of the blue dot on the ceiling. We could speculate and conjecture; but there was not one of us deep enough even to start a theory. Plainly it was what should not be. We had been taught physics and science; we had been drilled to fundamentals. If this thing could be, then the foundations upon which we stood were shattered. But one little law! Back in my mind was buzzing the enigma of the Blind Spot. They were woven together. Some law that had eluded the ken of mankind. The chemist was a tall man with a hook nose and black eyes that clinched like rivets. He was a bit impatient. He looked keenly at his brother. “Well, Phil, what is it?” He pulled out a watch, “I haven't much time.” There was a contrast between them. The jeweller was fat and complacent. He merely sat in his chair, his hand on his waistband and a stubby finger elevated toward the jewel. He seemed to enjoy it. “You're a chemist, Ed. Here's a test for your wisdom. Can you explain that? No, over here. Above your head. That jewel?”