He called cheerfully: "Come in!"

And the moment he had spoken he was off the bed, noiselessly, and half
the width of the room away. It had come to him as he spoke that it might
be well to shift from the point from which his voice had been heard.

The door opened swiftly--so swiftly was it opened and closed that it made
a faint whisper in the air, oddly like a sigh. And there was no click of
the lock either in the opening or the closing. Which meant an
incalculably swift and dexterous manipulation with the fingers. Terry
found himself facing a short-throated man with heavy shoulders; he wore a
shapeless black hat bunched on his head as though the whole hand had
grasped the crown and shoved the hat into place. It sat awkwardly to one
side. And the hat typified the whole man. There was a sort of shifty
readiness about him. His eyes flashed in the lamplight as they glanced at
the bed, and then flicked back toward Terry. And a smile began somewhere
in his face and instantly went out. It was plain that he had understood
the maneuver.

He continued to survey Terry insolently for a moment without announcing
himself. Then he stated: "You're him, all right!"

"Am I?" said Terry, regarding this unusual visitor with increasing
suspicion. "But I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage."

The big-shouldered man raised a stubby hand. He had an air of one who
deprecates, and at the same time lets another into a secret. He moved
across the room with short steps that made no sound, and gave him a
peculiar appearance of drifting rather than walking. He picked up a chair
and placed it down on the rug beside the bed and seated himself in it.