The next morning as Norman was packing his bags, one of his "boys" appeared at the door. His eyes were black and swollen. Embarrassed, he held out an envelope. Norman tore it open. "_You'll find your other playmate locked in my bathroom. I'll bring you a jug full of the Fountain of Youth._" The note was written in Johnny's careless scrawl! Norman flicked the ampliphone button in the little table beside his bed. "Interstellar Spaceport!" he ordered the invisible telemike as he pulled a handful of bills from his pocket and shoved them at the battered gentleman in the door. "Thanks for trying, Spike. Go kick Johnny's bathroom door down. Joe's locked up in there--" "Spaceport," the wall speaker said. "John Gordon," Norman asked, waving Spike out, "has he been there?" "Mr. Gordon took off half an hour ago, sir," said the ampliphone. "For Mercury." "Thanks...." As Norman clicked off the receiver, premonition crept over him like a shadow. His hand moved to the receiver again--to call for a ship and follow Johnny. Then the ampliphone buzzed under his hand. It was the Senator. He was waiting at the capital. As he started throwing shirts into his bag, Norman knew it was against his better judgment. But after all, Johnny could take care of himself. Spike's hamburger face proved that. It was with this thought that he picked up the plump Senator and left for the platinum comet. When the sleek private cruiser nosed into the little world's artificial air three days later, the mine foreman met them with a radiogram in his hand. Silently cursing the static that had interfered with space reception on the way over, cold fear clutched at Norman's heart as he read the message. "The platinum's yours," he told the astonished mine foreman. "Show the Senator around." As their bewildered faces stared after him, he took off for Earth again immediately. The trip back was maddening and he ignored all speed laws as he roared full-throttle into the bright mountain range that was New York City. Newsboys were still shouting the headlines on the street when he reached the hospital. "FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH IN TRAGIC REVERSE! JOHN GORDON FOUND IN DRIFTING SPACE BOAT! INVENTION MISSING!" Norman shoved a bill at the driver, jumped out of the taxi and ran up the hospital steps. The girl at the desk recognized him. "Room 947, Mr. Norman. Dr. Smyth is expecting you." He hurried to the elevator where a mob of reporters were also waiting. "What do you think happened to him, Mr. Norman? Do you think he reached Vulcan? What do you think became of his cruiser with the anti-gravity invention?" "Later, boys," Norman said, his familiar smile a little shaky now. "I've got to see Johnny first." A black-bearded doctor opened the door at his knock. From within the room came an odd babbling sound like a child talking to itself. Looking over the doctor's shoulder, Norman saw an old man lying on the white bed. He stepped past the doctor into the room.