fin wanted to know.

"Well, in the first place, I'm afraid Dr. Konrad Bern is no longer of
any use to the Redford Project. We're going to have to arrest him as
an unregistered agent of the Soviet Government."

"It's just as well," said Harry Benbow gently. "His research hasn't
done us any good and it hasn't done the Soviets any good. The poor
guy's been on edge ever since he got here. All the pale hide around
this place stirs up every nerve in him."

"What got you onto this?" Griffin asked MacHeath.

"A hunch first," MacHeath said. "Then I got data to back it up. But,
first ... Harry, how'd you know about Bern's reactions? He keeps those
prejudices of his down pretty deep; I didn't think you could go that
far."

"I didn't have to. He spent half an hour talking to me this morning.
He was so happy to see a fellow human being--according to his
definition of human being--that he was as easy to read as if _you_
were doing the reading."

MacHeath nodded. "I hate to throw him to the wolves, but he's got to
go."

"What was the snooping you said you had to do?" Griffin asked.

"Dates. Times. Briefly, I found that the run of accidents has been
building up to a peak. At first, it was just small meters that went
wrong. Then bigger, more complex stuff. And, finally, the Monster
went. See the pattern?"

The other men nodded.

"You're the therapist," Griffin said. "What do you suggest?"

"Shock treatment," said David MacHeath.

* * * * *

Just how Dr. Konrad Bern got wind of the fact that a squad of FBI men
had come to the project to arrest him that evening is something that
MacHeath didn't know until later. He was busy at the time, ignoring
anything but what he was interested in. It always fascinated him to
watch the mind of a psychokinetic expert at work. He couldn't do the
trick himself, and he was always amazed at the ability of anyone who
could.

It was like watching a pianist play a particularly difficult concerto.
A person can watch a pianist, see every move he is making, and why he
is making it. But being able to see what is going on doesn't mean that
one can duplicate the action. MacHeath was in the same position.
Telepathically, he could observe the play of emotions that ran through
a psychokinetic's mind--the combinations of avid desire and the utter
loathing which, playing one against another, could move a brick, a
book, or a Buick if the mind was powerful enough. But he co