me, George Prince, in
letters illumined upon his forehead, showed for a moment and then faded.
He stood smiling sourly before us as he repeated the official formula:

"My name is George Prince. I was born in Great-New York City twenty-five
years ago."

* * * * *

I gazed at this life-size, moving image of George Prince. He stood
somber in the black detention uniform. A dark, almost a girlishly
handsome fellow, well below medium height--the rod beside him showed
five feet four inches. Slim and slight. Long, wavy black hair, falling
about his ears. A pale, clean-cut, really handsome face, almost
beardless. I regarded it closely. A face that would have been femininely
beautiful without its masculine touch of heavy black brows and firmly
set jaw. His voice as he spoke was low and soft; but at the end, with
the concluding words, "I am innocent!" it flashed into strong
masculinity. His eyes, shaded with long, girlish black lashes, by chance
met mine. "I am innocent." His curving sensuous lips drew down into a
grim sneer....

The type faded at its end. Halsey replaced the disc in its box and waved
the attendant away. "Thank you."

He turned back to Snap and me. "Well, there he is. We have nothing
tangible against him now. But I'll say this: he's a clever fellow, one
to be afraid of. I would not blare it from the newscasters' microphone,
but if he is hatching any plot, he has been too clever for my agents."

We talked for another half-hour, and then Captain Carter dismissed us.
We left Halsey's office with Carter's final words ringing in our ears.
"Whatever comes, lads, remember I trust you...."

* * * * *

Snap and I decided to walk a portion of the way back to the ship. It was
barely more than a mile through this subterranean corridor to where we
could get the vertical lift direct to the landing stage.

We started off on the lower level. Once outside the insulation of
Halsey's office we did not dare talk of this thing. Not only electrical
ears, but every possible eavesdropping device might be upon us. The
corridor was two hundred feet or more below the ground level. At this
hour of the night this business section was comparatively deserted. The
through tube sounded over our heads with the passing of its occasional
trains. The ventilators buzzed and whirred. At the cross intersections,
the traffic directors dozed at their posts. It was hot and sticky down