hat was
already beginning to be dispersed by a slight breeze.

The humanoid did not bother to look back.

* * * * *

Brentwood would have been just like any other average community of
10,000 in northern Illinois had it not been for Presser College, which
was one of the country's finest small institutions of learning.

Since it was a college town, it was perhaps a little more alive in many
respects than other towns in the state. Its residents were used to the
unusual because college students have a habit of being unpredictable.
That was why the appearance of a metal blue man on the streets attracted
the curious eyes of passersbys, but, hardened by years of pranks,
hazings and being subjected to every variety of inquiry, poll, test and
practical joke, none of them moved to investigate. Most of them thought
it was a freshman enduring some new initiation.

The blue humanoid realized this and was amused. A policeman who
approached him to take him to jail as a matter of routine suddenly found
himself ill and abruptly hurried to the station. The robot allowed
children to follow him, though all eventually grew discouraged because
of his long strides.

Prof. Ansel Tomlin was reading a colleague's new treatise on psychology
on his front porch when he saw the humanoid come down the street and
turn in at his walk. He was surprised, but he was not alarmed. When the
blue man came up on the porch and sat down in another porch chair,
Tomlin closed his book.

Prof. Tomlin found himself unexpectedly shocked. The blue figure was
obviously not human, yet its eyes were nearly so and they came as close
to frightening him as anything had during his thirty-five years of life,
for Ansel Tomlin had never seen an actual robot before. The thought that
he was looking at one at that moment started an alarm bell ringing
inside him, and it kept ringing louder and louder as he realized that
what he was seeing was impossible.

"Professor Tomlin!"

Prof. Tomlin jumped at the sound of the voice. It was not at all
mechanical.

"I'll be damned!" he gasped. Somewhere in the house a telephone rang.
His wife would answer it, he thought.

"Yes, you're right," the robot said. "Your wife will answer it. She is
walking toward the phone at this moment."

"How--"

"Professor Tomlin, my name--and I see I must have a name--is, let us
say, George. I have examined most of the minds in this community in my
walk through it