Again he took his detector out of his pocket. After a full minute, he was satisfied that there was no sign of any complex gadgetry that could warn the occupant that anyone had entered the room. Certainly there was nothing deadly around. Then a half-grin came over the man's cunning face. There was always the chance that the occupant of the suite had rigged up a really old-fashioned trap. He looked carefully at the hinges of the door. Nothing. There were no tiny bits of paper that would fall if he pushed the door open any further, no little threads that would be broken. It hadn't really seemed likely, after all. The door was open wide enough for a man to walk through without moving it. Still grinning, the man reached out toward the door. He was quite astonished when his hand didn't reach the door itself. There was a sharp feeling of pain when his hand fell to the floor, severed at the wrist. The man stared at his twitching hand on the floor. He blinked stupidly while his wrist gushed blood. Then, almost automatically, he stepped forward to pick up his hand. As he shuffled forward, he felt a _snick! snick!_ of pain in his ankles while all sensation from his feet went dead. It was not until he began toppling forward that he realized that his feet were still sitting calmly on the floor in their shoes and that he was no longer connected to them. It was too late. He was already falling. He felt a stinging sensation in his throat and then nothing more as the drop in blood pressure rendered him unconscious. His hand lay, where it had fallen. His feet remained standing. His body fell to the floor with a resounding _thud!_ His head bounced once and then rolled under the bed. When his heart quit pumping, the blood quit spurting. A tiny device on the doorjamb, down near the floor, went _zzzt!_ and then there was silence. V When Representative Edway Tarnhorst cut off the call that had come from Harry Morgan, he turned around and faced the other man in the room. "Satisfactory?" he said. "Yes. Yes, of course," said the other. He was a tall, hearty-looking man with a reddish face and a friendly smile. "You said just the right thing, Edway. Just the right thing. You're pretty smart, you know that? You got what it takes." He chuckled. "They'll never figure anything out now." He waved a hand toward the chair. "Sit down, Edway. Want a drink?" Tarnhorst sat down and folded his hands. He looked down at them as if he were really interested in the flat, unfaceted diamond, engraved with the Tarnhorst arms, that gleamed on the ring on his finger. "A little glass of whiskey wouldn't hurt much, Sam," he said, looking up from his hands. He smiled. "As you say, there isn't much to worry about now. If Morgan goes to the police, they'll give him the same information."