Marc stared at the illusive last remains of Mr. Epperson, and shuddered. "A noisy way to go," the woman reflected philosophically, "but nice and clean." She seemed to be speaking of an experiment that had turned out with surprising success. "He was a dirty little pest anyway. I never did like having him around." She smiled and it was no improvement. "I'll bet it's the first time anyone's ever gone to heaven with a rock ... if he went there at all." "What happened to him? What did it?" The woman regarded Marc thoughtfully for a time and seemed to come to a decision. She reached into the pocket of her grimy skirt and drew forth a minute, white capsule. She held it out for his inspection. "See that?" she asked. "Just barely," Marc answered truthfully. "It's awfully small." "And awfully powerful," the woman went on with dramatic emphasis. "That's what did it. Anyway, it was one just like that." "What is it? What's it made of?" "I don't know for sure," the woman replied. "It might be anything ... even common dirt. It doesn't matter. The point is that whatever it is, it's been charged so that when it's exposed to air, it just naturally blows everything around it all to hell and gone. Mr. Epperson opened the other one, and I guess that's why he was vaporized. I ducked around the rock just in time." "But that's impossible!" Marc protested. "I know it," the woman said flatly. "It's as impossible as a three dollar bill. But it works, just the same. Look what it did to old Eppy!" Marc winced. He couldn't help the feeling that nothing good could come from such blatant familiarity with the dead. "Where did you get those things?" he asked, changing the subject. "They're the brain child of a certain Dr. Herrigg," the woman replied. "I always thought there was something offside about the old crow, and now that I know it, I'm going...." Suddenly, she was interrupted by a nasty cracking sound, and Marc quickly took up his old courtship with the rock, lest it be the overture to another explosion. He sensed, rather than saw or heard, the woman dropping to his side. "What was that?" he whispered. Then he turned to the woman and started back in horror. She was lying face-down in the sand, and the hole at the base of her skull was clearly visible. The matter of the fluid running in her veins was settled beyond all argument; it was blood. * * * * *