He hung up the receiver.

"My brother," he spoke. "It has passed beyond my province and into
his. He is a chemist. As an expert he may give you a real
opinion."

Surely we needed one. It was against reason. It had taken me
completely off my balance. I took a chair and joined the others in
the contemplation of the blue dot on the ceiling. We could
speculate and conjecture; but there was not one of us deep enough
even to start a theory. Plainly it was what should not be. We had
been taught physics and science; we had been drilled to
fundamentals. If this thing could be, then the foundations upon
which we stood were shattered. But one little law! Back in my mind
was buzzing the enigma of the Blind Spot. They were woven
together. Some law that had eluded the ken of mankind.

The chemist was a tall man with a hook nose and black eyes that
clinched like rivets. He was a bit impatient. He looked keenly at
his brother.

"Well, Phil, what is it?" He pulled out a watch, "I haven't much
time."

There was a contrast between them. The jeweller was fat and
complacent. He merely sat in his chair, his hand on his waistband
and a stubby finger elevated toward the jewel. He seemed to enjoy
it.

"You're a chemist, Ed. Here's a test for your wisdom. Can you