en and two women in the room. One of
the men already had a heavy pistol out and was aiming it at the
doorway. Karnes dropped to the floor and fired just as the other's
pistol went off.

The high-velocity three millimeter slug whined through the air above
Karnes' head and buried itself in Lansberg's shoulder. Lansberg
dropped, spun halfway around from the shock. His knees hit Karnes in
the back.

Karnes lurched forward a little, and regained his balance. Something
flew out of his coat pocket and skittered across the floor. Karnes
didn't notice what it was until one of the men across the room picked
it up.

Brittain had picked up the mind impressor!

Karnes was aware that there were more men behind him firing at another
of the conspirators who had made the mistake of drawing a weapon, but
he wasn't interested too much. He was watching Brittain.

It only took seconds, but to Karnes it seemed like long minutes.
Brittain had evidently thought the impressor was a weapon when he
picked it up, and, after seeing his mistake, had started to throw it
at the door. Then the impressor shimmered slightly, as though there
were a hot radiator between the observor and the object. Brittain
stopped, paralyzed, his eyes widening.

Then he gasped and threw the impressor against the floor as hard as he
could.

"_NO!_" he screamed, "_IT'S A LIE!_"

The impressor struck the floor and broke. From its shattered interior
came a blinding multi-colored glare. Then there was darkness. Karnes
fainted.

When Karnes awoke, one of the policemen was shaking him.

"Wake up, Mr. Karnes, wake up!"

Karnes sat up abruptly. "What happened?" He had no time to be
original.

"I don't know for sure. One of the Leaguers threw a gas bomb of some
sort, and it knocked out everyone in the room. Funny, though, it even
knocked out all the Leaguers. When the rest of the boys came in,
everybody was out cold on the floor. Most of them are coming out of it
now, except for two of the Leaguers. They got some lead in them,
though, not gas."

Karnes stood up. He felt a little dizzy, but otherwise there wasn't
anything wrong. He surveyed the room.

On the floor was a slightly yellowed spot where the impressor had
flared and vanished. Lansberg was unconscious with a copiously
bleeding right shoulder. Two other men were rapidly being brought
around by the police. Three of the League agents were still out;
nobody tried to wake them up, they were being handcuffed