artled conjecture was that the other had discovered the
special weapon. He tried to rotate the lens so that the weapon would
point at Neil but could see, by other stationary lenses in the room,
that the one on the cart remained motionless. The same was true of the
mechanical arm. In fact, the entire cart was dead.

"I pulled the main power fuse," said Neil, a slight smile on his face.
"I suppose you thought you were getting away with it completely." Not
positive as to how much his partner knew, Mel, decided on silence as his
defense. The smile disappeared from the other's face and he continued,
slowly:

"Something must be wrong with your reasoning. I knew something was up
when the power company's statement showed an unusually high increase in
power consumption. From there on it was easy to read the meters at night
myself, and then the next morning. What were you up to anyway?" Mel
still maintained his silence.

"Okay if that's the way you want it," said Neil more harshly. He walked
to the end of the tank and Mel felt his brain telegraphing warnings to
severed nerve connections not yet again in use. Neil reached out to a
valve Mel recognized as controlling the minute amount of chemicals that
served to nourish the cells in his brain. Relays were connected to it
that also regulated the injection of oxygen proportionately into the
fluid. He turned it slightly then began watching the oscilloscope
closely. In a matter of seconds, Mel felt his usually sharp senses begin
to dull. The oscilloscope blurred until, by great effort, he brought it
into focus again. He saw that the height of the wavy line denoting the
strength of his brain's output was abnormally low.

"Feeling all right?" asked Neil in mock anxiety. He turned the valve
back to its correct setting and almost instantly Mel felt better.
"That's just a sample of what can happen if you force me to it," warned
the other. "A little more of a turn and that super brain of yours would
be garbage. Only I wouldn't do that, of course. There are a few more
experiments I want to make before your brain dies." Knowing the vicious
nature of his partner, Mel decided to talk before the other goaded
himself into some unplanned action.

"Don't forget the fable about the goose that laid the golden eggs," his
voice rolled out. "There's still a lot I could do for you, you know--or
_not_ do." He saw with relief that the anger receded from the other's
face to be replaced by a look of cunn