in front of Number 37, and a minute or so later a little clot of men
came out bearing a stretcher, which was loaded into the ambulance.
Immediately after them came another man who had a firm, but polite grip
on the arm of Sir Lewis Huntley.

Houston sighed and leaned back in his seat. That was that. It was all
over. Simple. Nothing to it.

Another Controller had been apprehended by the Psychodeviant Police.
Another deviant, already tried and found guilty, was ready to be exiled
from Earth and imprisoned on one of the Penal Asteroids. All in the
day's work.

_There's just one thing I'd like to know_, Houston thought blackly.
_What in the hell's going on?_

* * * * *

In his hotel room near Piccadilly Circus, several hours later, David
Houston sat alone, drink in hand, and put that same question to himself
again.

"What's going on?"

On the face of it, it was simple. On the face of it, the answer was
right in front of him, printed in black and white on the front page of
the evening _Times_.

Houston lifted the paper off the bed and looked at it. The banner line
said: _Controller Captured in Lambeth!_

Beneath that, in smaller type, the headline added: Robert Harris Accused
of Taking Control of Barrister Sir Lewis Huntley.

The column itself told the whole story. Mr. Robert Harris, of No. 37
Upper Berkeley Mews, had, by means of mental control, taken over the
mind of Sir Lewis and compelled him to draw one thousand pounds out of
his bank. While Sir Lewis was returning to Harris with the money, the
United Nations Psychodeviant Police had laid a trap. Sir Lewis, upon
recovering his senses when Harris was rendered unconscious by a stun
gun, had given evidence to the PD Police and to officials at New
Scotland Yard.

Houston looked at the full-color photo of Harris that was printed
alongside the column. Nice-looking chap; late twenties or early
thirties, Houston guessed. Blond-red hair, blue eyes. All-in-all, a
very pleasant, but ordinary sort of man.

There had been evidence that a Controller had been at work in London for
some weeks now. Twelve days before, several men, following an impulse,
had mailed twenty pounds to a "Richard Hempstead," General Delivery,
Waterloo Station. By the time the matter had come to the authorities'
attention, the envelopes had been called for and the Controller had
escaped.

Robert Harris was not the first Controller to be captured, nor, Houston
k