lls. He broke into a run and he was panting for
breath when he reached his door.

The basket of shells was still on the shelf, but the newspaper wrappings
were loosened, and the bisected shell was entirely free of covering. And
he had not left them that way last evening.

Had atomic transmigration attempted to draw the shells back into the
Time sphere to which they really belonged? Sutter was a logical man, and
even as this thought came his mind rejected it. It must be Travail. He
had taken a sample shell from the basket and even now perhaps was
dickering with the officials of the Federal Arts Museum on a price.

Sutter picked up the bisected shell and went into the sitting room. He
carefully placed the shell upon the table so that the light from the
television set would fall directly upon it. Then he sat down to wait.

As he waited he mentally viewed the material prospects of his discovery.

If the Federal Arts Museum had offered five thousand credits for his old
collection, they would surely double their price on these rarities. He
saw himself the recipient of a fat check, his name and picture in the
papers, television interviews, lecture assignments, world fame ...

And to think that Travail had the brazen nerve to believe he could cash
in on his good fortune!

"Damned bearded coot!" Sutter mumbled to himself. "He must take me for
an utter fool!"

Footsteps sounded and his bearded roommate entered the room. Was it
fancy or did Sutter see in those grey eyes a gleam of mingled avarice
and satisfaction?

"Have a cigar?" said Travail casually.

Sutter shook his head. "You know I don't smoke." He crossed the room,
adjusted the controls of the television set and watched the familiar
beach scene come into sharper focus. As the sound of the washing waves
boomed from the speaker, the cone of bluish light took form before the
bisected shell. Sutter moved the shell slightly so that it lay at
directly right angles to the panel of the TV set. Travail, drawing on
his cigar, watched him curiously.

"What are you doing?" he asked at length.

"Little experiment. Stand over here and I'll show you. Here, in front of
this cone of light."

Travail took the place indicated. His face was emotionless as he looked
beyond the light into the bisected shell.

"Now walk forward," commanded Sutter.

"I'll do nothing of the sort," said Travail, starting to back away.
"What are you up to anyway?"

Sutter had no plan in mind beyo