nd sneezed.

He shook his head, cursed softly and went on.

Now, then....

* * * * *

There was an organization, spread all over the Western world, and with
what were undoubtedly secret branches in the Soviet Union. The
organization had to be an old one--because it had to have trained
telepaths, of a high degree of efficiency. And training took time.

There was something else to consider, too. In order to organize to
such a degree that they could wreak the complete havoc they were
wreaking, the organization couldn't be completely secret; there are
always leaks, always suspicious events, and a society that spent time
covering all of those up would have no time for anything else.

So the organization had to be a known one, in the Western world at
least--a known group, masquerading as something else.

So far, everything made sense. Malone frowned and tried to think.
Where, he wondered, did he go from here?

Maybe this time a list would help. He found a pencil and a piece of
paper, and headed the paper: _Organization_. Then he started putting
down what he knew about it, and what he'd figured out:

1. Large
2. Old
3. Disguised

It sounded, so far, just a little like Frankenstein's Monster wearing
a red wig. But what else did he know about it?

After a second's thought, he murmured: "Nothing," and put the pencil
down.

But that, he realized, wasn't quite true. He knew one more thing about
the organization. He knew they'd probably be immune to the confusion
everybody else was suffering from. The organization would be--had to
be--efficient. It would be composed of intelligent, superbly
co-operative people, who could work together as a unit without in the
least impairing their own individuality.

He reached for the pencil again, and put down:

4. Efficient

He looked at it. Now it didn't remind him so much of the Monster. But
it didn't look terribly familiar, either. Who did he know, he thought,
who was large, old, disguised and efficient?

It sounded like an improbable combination. He set the paper down,
clearing off some of the PRS books to make room for it. And then he
stopped.

The papers the PRS had sent him....

And he'd gotten them so quickly, so efficiently....

They were a large organization....

And an old one....

He looked for a desk phone, found one and grabbed at it frantically.

* * * * *

The girl who answered the phone