"He's outside now. He was inquiring about you." "And Stanly Weill, my attorney. Not business; just to say good-bye." "Oh, I'm sorry, Professor. He's not in town, now. He left almost immediately after.... After...." "After he found out I was crazy for sure? Where'd he go?" "To Reno; he took the plane at five o'clock." Weill wouldn't have believed, anyhow; no use trying to blame himself for that. But he was as sure that he would never see Stanly Weill alive again as he was that the next morning the sun would rise. He nodded impassively. "Sorry he couldn't stay. Can I see Max Pottgeiter alone?" "Yes, of course, Professor." Old Pottgeiter came in, his face anguished. "Ed! It isn't true," he stammered. "I won't believe that it's true." "What, Max?" "That you're crazy. Nobody can make me believe that." He put his hand on the old man's shoulder. "Confidentially, Max, neither do I. But don't tell anybody I'm not. It's a secret." Pottgeiter looked troubled. For a moment, he seemed to be wondering if he mightn't be wrong and Hauserman and Whitburn and the others right. "Max, do you believe in me?" he asked. "Do you believe that I knew about Khalid's assassination a month before it happened?" "It's a horribly hard thing to believe," Pottgeiter admitted. "But, dammit, Ed, you did! I know, medieval history is full of stories about prophecies being fulfilled. I always thought those stories were just legends that grew up after the event. And, of course, he's about a century late for me, but there was Nostradamus. Maybe those old prophecies weren't just _ex post facto_ legends, after all. Yes. After Khalid, I'll believe that." "All right. I'm saying, now, that in a few days there'll be a bad explosion at Reno, Nevada. Watch the papers and the telecast for it. If it happens, that ought to prove it. And you remember what I told you about the Turks annexing Syria and Lebanon?" The old man nodded. "When that happens, get away from Blanley. Come up to the town where Northern State Mental Hospital is, and get yourself a place to live, and stay there. And try to bring Marjorie Fenner along with you. Will you do that, Max?" "If you say so." His eyes widened. "Something bad's going to happen here?" "Yes, Max. Something very bad. You promise me you will?" "Of course, Ed. You know, you're the only friend I have around here. You and Marjorie. I'll come, and bring her along." "Here's the key to my apartment." He got it from his pocket and gave it to Pottgeiter, with instructions. "Everything in the filing cabinet on the left of my desk. And don't let anybody else see any of it. Keep it safe for me." The large young man in the white coat entered. THE END End of Project Gutenberg's The Edge of the Knife, by Henry Beam Piper