guess." The dark youth shrugged cheerfully. "So--I'm
a witch doctor."

"That's an interesting thought," said Donahue. It would be a long
three day trip to the Moon and he had expected to be bored, but this
conversation was not boring. "What do you do?" he again asked.
"Specifically." Donahue had rugged features, a dark tan and
attractively sun-bleached hair worn a little too long. He exuded a
sort of rough charm which branded him one of the class of politicians,
and he knew how to draw people out, so now he settled himself more
comfortably for an extended spell of listening. "Tell me more and join
me in a drink." He signalled the hostess and continued with the right
mixture of admiring interest and condescending scepticism. "You don't
chant spells and hire ghosts, do you?"

"Not exactly." The dark innocent looking young face smiled with a
cheerful flash of white teeth. "I'll tell you what I did to a man, a
man named Bryce Carter."

* * * * *

A group of men sat in a skyscraper at Cape Hatteras, with their table
running parallel to a huge floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the
clouded sky and gray waves of the Atlantic. They were the respected
directors of Union Transport, and, like most men of high position,
they had a keen sense of self-preservation and a knowledge of ways and
means that included little in the way of scruples.

The chairman rapped lightly. "Gentlemen, your attention please. I have
an announcement to make."

The buzz of talk at the long table stopped and the fourteen men turned
their faces. The meeting had been called a full week early, and they
expected some emergency as an explanation. "A disturbing announcement,
I am afraid. Someone is using this corporation for illegal purposes."
The chairman's voice was mild and apologetic.

Bryce Carter, second from the opposite end, was brought to a shock of
tense balanced alertness. How much did he know? He gave no sign of
emotion, but reached for a cigarette to cover any change in his
breathing, fumbling perhaps more than usual.

The men at the long table waited, showing a variety of bored
expressions that never had any connection with their true reactions.
The chairman was a small, inconspicuous, sandy-haired man whose
ability they respected so deeply that they had elected him the
chairman to have him where they could watch him. They knew he was not
one to mention trifles, and there was a moment of silence. "All r