Colonel. "Just dropped by to say
hello." He was a small, plump man and his face was always red and
perspiring. Crawford knew him slightly from the other two times he had
played Harlow Field, but this was the first time the Colonel had ever
paid him a backstage visit.

"Got a fan here who wants to meet you," continued the Colonel. "Shake
hands with Dr. Paul Shalt, one of our base scientists. He and I just
caught your rehearsal. Fine, very fine."

The doctor's name struck a chord and Crawford dug deep until it focused.
Dr. Paul Shalt was a physicist working with the army. He specialized in
the development of radar, was the chief developer of the electrical
detonator used in atomic bombs.

"I enjoyed your performance very much," said Dr. Shalt. "Your voice is
extraordinary." He had a smooth, angular face, black hair and black,
penetrating eyes. "Amazing range."

"Thanks," said Crawford.

"And the clearness of tone is phenomenal," said Dr. Shalt. "Has it
always been like that?"

Crawford nodded. "When I was a kid it embarrassed me, my voice," he
said, smiling. "A trick voice, everybody called it. But it's a definite
asset to a practitioner of the art of ventriloquism."

"You should have seen Dr. Shalt while you were on stage," said Colonel
Meadows, beaming at him. "He was running all over the auditorium testing
your voice with one of his gadgets."

* * * * *

Crawford grinned. "I didn't realize I moved my audience so."

Dr. Shalt laughed. "What Colonel Meadows says is true. I'm _very_
interested in your vocal range. While you rehearsed I tested the quality
and sound of your tone." He stopped, looked around the room until he
discovered Spud where Crawford had put him on the chair. He walked over
to the dummy and touched the wooden head with his hand.

"Actually it's a _second voice_, that sound and vibration you use for
Spud. It's perfect, perfect for what I need, that second voice."

Dr. Shalt put the dummy back in the position he had found him in,
reached into his pocket and brought out a small glass-enclosed
instrument which he held in front of him.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked, approaching the dressing table.

"Never saw it before," Crawford said, examining the gadget. A small
arrow flickered nervously within a glass cage.

"It's called a Voice Oscillator," explained Dr. Shalt. "It's sensitive
to the slightest tonal inflection. We use it to measure the pitch and