To bring him back to full usefulness--that was admitting that his interest was as much for the benefit of science as for the man. Science in Carroll's case meant years and years of intense study of that one particular field. He was rationalizing, he knew, and he went further by admitting that bringing Carroll back to full intelligence again meant that, unless the man regained his ability to remember and work on the Lawson Radiation, his return was incomplete. Would he bring Carroll back--only to have the man return to this rare state of amnesia at the first touch of something--and who knew what? Pollard closed his mind and returned to the hospital. But the days passed with no hope. Carroll was forced to admit his identity and that was all. His mind meticulously avoided any contact with the Lawson Radiation. In fact, any minor gains Pollard made were lost instantly when any phase of Carroll's former studies was mentioned. Eventually James Carroll went home. Pollard could keep him there no longer. The former physicist returned daily, and Pollard helped the man to make plans for the future. That hurt deeply, for Pollard had to sit there, helpless to do anything about the man's lack of intellect. Things that a normal man would take for granted in his daily life Pollard had to outline in detail as planning. Luckily Carroll had financial independence--or unluckily, perhaps, for maybe a job of some sort might have been good therapy. The trouble was that Pollard could not make his own mental adjustment to see the former, very brilliant James Forrest Carroll working for a pittance by digging ditches or slogging away his life in a menial job. As the days grew into weeks the pattern of Carroll's new life became fixed in the man's mind and he found it unnecessary to return daily to the hospital for advice. And Dr. Pollard gave up, himself a fine case of frustration. CHAPTER II _Double Trouble_ James Forrest Carroll was lazily happy with himself. His needs were quite simple and the apartment he lived in was far beyond them. He had a gnawing doubt that he could keep it forever, because there was something about money that did not jibe. He could not make enough money to maintain it--and he did not need it anyway. But it was very nice and he viewed it as any normal man might view living in his own ideal home, complete with everything that he ever hoped to have. He awoke in the morning by physical habit, dressed by instinct and his breakfast was served by the housekeeper. Then he left the place and roamed. He saw the parks and enjoyed with primitive pleasure the greenery and the natural settings of tree, grass and sky. The park squirrels knew no fear of him and he found them interesting. Perhaps he subconsciously envied their obvious adjustment to their environment.