! You must!"

The visitor was frightened. And then he realized that he was less
frightened than the man was. The terror felt by the creeping man was
greater than the fear the visitor had experienced with the girl.

There were shouts and barking. He heard the shrill cry of a boy. "Go
get him, Max!"

There was a squeal of brakes from the road and a pounding of heavy
footsteps coming toward them.

With the man, the visitor rose up, confused, scared. A great shaggy
weight hurled itself and a growling, sharp-toothed mouth sought a
throat.

A voice yelled, "Don't shoot! The dog's got him!"

Then blackness.

* * * * *

"Mersey." The voice summoned the visitor, huddling in a corner of the
deranged mind, fearing contamination.

The eyes opened, looked up at the ceiling of a barred cell.

"Dr. Cloyd is here to see you," the voice said.

The visitor felt the mind of his host seeking to close out the words
and the world, to return to sheltering darkness.

There was a rattle of keys and the opening of an iron door.

The eyes opened as a hand shook the psychotic Mersey by the shoulder.
The visitor sought escape, but the eyes avoided those of the other.

"Come with me, son," the doctor's voice said. "Don't be frightened.
No one will hurt you. We'll have a talk."

Mersey shook off the hand on his shoulder.

"Drop dead," he muttered.

"That wouldn't help anything," the doctor said. "Come on, man."

Mersey sat up and, through his eyes, the traveler saw the doctor's
legs. Were they legs or were they iron bars? The traveler cringed away
from the mad thought.

A room with a desk, a chair, a couch, and sunlight through a window.
Crawling sunlit snakes. The visitor shuddered. He sought the part of
the mind that was clear, but he sought in vain. Only the whirling
chaos and the distorted images remained now.

There was a pain in the throat and with Mersey he lifted a hand to it.
Bandaged--gleaming teeth and a snarling animal's mouth--fear, despair
and hatred. With the prisoner, he collapsed on the couch.

"Lie down, if you like," said Dr. Cloyd's voice. "Try to relax. Let me
help you."

"Drop dead," Mersey replied automatically. The visitor felt the
tenseness of the man, the unreasoning fear, and the resentment.

But as the man lay there, the traveler sensed a calming of the
turbulence. There was an urgent rational thought. He concentrated and
tried to help the man phrase it.

"The