"The whole world is immersed in its tail." "And that tail is so tenuous that our senses do not even detect the fact!" "That doesn't mean it couldn't have some kind of effect." "Such as stopping engines? Well, you're a pretty good mechanic. Just what did the comet do to all these stalled pieces of machinery?" Ken felt his father was being unfair, yet he could scarcely blame him for not taking the hypothesis seriously. "I don't know what the comet did--or could do--" he said in a low voice. "I just know I've never seen any engines like those we took apart last night." In detail, he described to his father the appearance of the engine parts they had dismantled. "I brought home some samples of metal we cut from the engine blocks with a torch. Would you take them up to the laboratory at the college and have them examined under the electron microscope?" "I wouldn't have time to run any such tests for several days. If you are intent on pursuing this thing, however, I'll tell you what I'll do. You and your science club friends can come up and use the equipment yourselves." "We don't know how!" "I'll arrange for one of the teaching fellows to show you how to prepare metallic samples and operate the electron microscope." Ken's eyes lighted. "Gee, that would be great if you would do that, Dad! Will you, really?" "Come around after school today. I'll see that someone is there to help you." Art Matthews was disappointed when Ken called and said none of the science club members would be around that afternoon. He couldn't keep from showing in his voice that he felt they were letting him down. "It's not any use trying to get those engines running," Ken said. "The pistons would never come out of most of them without being drilled out. We're not equipped for that. Even if we got things loosened up and running again, what would keep the same thing from happening again? That's what we've got to find out." Art was unable to accept this point of view. He held a bewildered but insistent belief that something ought to be done about the mounting pile of disabled cars outside his garage. "We can get some of them going, Ken. You fellows have got to lend a hand. I can't tackle it without help." "I'm sorry," Ken said. "We're convinced there's got to be another way to get at the problem." "All right. You guys do whatever you figure you've got to do. I can probably round up some other help." Ken hung up, wishing he had been able to make Art understand, but the mechanic would probably be the last person in Mayfield to accept that the comet could have any possible connection with the frozen engines.