k his head. "Not a hint. And I really covered ground."
He stared at the lawyer a moment. "How much am I worth, now?"

"Well, offhand--" Jesperson thought for a moment. "Say, a million three
hundred. I've made some good investments this past year."

Alan nodded. "Good. Keep the money piling up. I may decide to open a
research lab of my own, and we'll need every credit we've got."

But the next day an item arrived in the morning mail which very much
altered the character of Alan's plans for the future. It was a small but
thick package, neatly wrapped, which bore as return address the name
_Dwight Bentley_, with a London number.

Alan frowned for a moment, trying to place the name. Then it came back
to him--Bentley was the vice-provost of the London Institute of
Technology, Cavour's old school. Alan had had a long talk with Bentley
one afternoon in January, about Cavour, about space travel, and about
Alan's hopes for developing a hyperspace drive.

The parcel was the right size and thickness to contain a book. Alan slit
the fastenings, and folded back the outer wrapper. A note from Bentley
lay on top.

_London
3rd November 3877_

_My dear Mr. Donnell:_

_Perhaps you may remember the very enjoyable chat you and I had one
day at this Institute last winter, on the occasion of your visit to
London. You were, I recall, deeply interested in the life and work
of James H. Cavour, and anxious to carry on the developments he had
achieved in the field of space travel._

_Several days ago, in the course of an extensive resurveying of the
Institute's archives, the enclosed volume was discovered very
thoroughly hidden in the dusty recesses of our library. Evidently
Mr. Cavour had forwarded the book to us from his laboratory in
Asia, and it had somehow become misfiled._

_I am taking the liberty of forwarding the book on to you, in the
hopes that it will aid you in your work and perhaps ultimately bring
you success. Would you be kind enough to return the book to me c/o
this Institute when you are finished with it?_

_Cordially,
Dwight Bentley_

Alan let the note slip to the floor as he reached for the enclosed book.
It was leather-bound and even more fragile tha