peculatively, and for one horrible second Malone
could almost hear him sending out an order to find, and hire, a
chimpanzee (after Security clearance, of course, for whatever
organizations a chimpanzee could join). But all he said, in what was
almost a mild voice, was: "All right, Malone. And don't call me
Chief."

The very mildness of his tone showed how worried the man was, Malone
realized, and he set out for the first hospital on his own list with
grim determination written all over his face and a heartbeat that
seemed to hammer at him that his country expected every man to do his
duty.

"I find my duty hard to do today," he murmured under his breath. It
was all right to tell himself that he had to find a telepath. But how
did you go about it? Did you just knock on hospital doors and ask them
if they had anybody who could read minds?

"You know," Malone told himself in a surprised tone, "that isn't such
a bad idea." It would, at any rate, let him know whether the hospital
had any patients who _thought_ they could read minds. From them on, it
would probably be simple to apply a test, and separate the telepathic
sheep from the psychotic goats.

The image that created in his mind was so odd that Malone, in self-
defense, stopped thinking altogether until he'd reached the first
hospital, a small place situated in the shrinking countryside West of
Washington.

It was called, he knew, the Rice Pavilion.

* * * * *

The place was small, and white. It bore a faint resemblance to
Monticello, but then that was true, Malone reflected, of eight out of
ten public buildings of all sorts. The front door was large and
opaque, and Malone went up the winding driveway, climbed a short
flight of marble steps, and rapped sharply.

The door opened instantly. "Yes?" said the man inside, a tall, balding
fellow wearing doctor's whites and a sad, bloodhound-like expression.

"Yes," Malone said automatically. "I mean--my name is Kenneth J.
Malone."

"Mine," said the bloodhound, "is Blake. Doctor Andrew Blake." There
was a brief pause. "Is there anything we can do for you?" the doctor
went on.

"Well," Malone said, "I'm looking for people who can read minds."

Blake didn't seem at all surprised. He nodded quietly. "Of course," he
said. "I understand perfectly."

"Good," Malone told him. "You see, I thought I'd have a little trouble
finding--"

"Oh, no trouble at all, I assure you," Blake went on