As Babel? Over my shoulders came the strangest sound of all, weak,
piping, tremulous, fearful--"Now there are two. Now there are
two." My heart gave a fearful leap. "Soon there will be three!
Soon--"

I turned suddenly about. I had a fearful thought. I looked at
Hobart. A strange, insidious fear clutched at me. Was the thought
intrinsic? If not, where had it come from? Three? I strained my
ears to hear Watson's footsteps. He was in the back part of the
building. I must have some air.

"I'm going to open the door, Hobart," I spoke. "The front door,
and look out into the street."

"Don't blame you much. Feel a bit that way myself. About time for
Dr. Higgins. Here comes Chick again. Take a look outside and see
if the doc is coming."

I opened the door and looked out into the dripping fog bank. What
a pair of fools we were! We both knew it, and we were both seeking
an excuse. In the next room through the curtains I could see the
weak form of Watson; he was bearing a light.

Suddenly the light went out.

I was at high tension; the mere fact of the light was nothing, but
it meant a world at that moment--a strange sound--a struggle--then
the words of Watson--Chick Watson's:

"Harry! Harry! Hobart! Harry! Come here! It's the Blind Spot!"