"Say—that's swell. But—"
"Stand back!" Johnny cried suddenly, as I started to move toward him. He snatched a gun from beneath a pillow and waved it threateningly. "Know what I was doing this afternoon before you came in?"
"Johnny, this is crazy! Put down that gun and listen to reason."
"I had the glasses on," he continued, "and I was looking out the window here. I'm getting real brave—even in broad daylight—but there comes a time when you just don't care. I saw spiders in the streets. Huge spiders walking along the streets, mingling with human beings. And get this, Charlie—when I took the glasses off, they were like human beings. Like humans, you understand. You know what that means? They're in disguise all around us!"
"That's not true, Johnny," I insisted. "There are no webs in the sky. There are no spiders. It's your imagination. The strain. Working in the lab—"
"No," he cried, and the gun never wavered. "You know what else I saw? A few minutes ago. I was looking down into the street, and a spider got out of a car just in front of the hotel here and started coming in. I took off the glasses to see if it might be someone I knew."
He began to laugh hysterically. "You know who it was, Charlie—"
I leaped forward, trying to knock the gun down. But Johnny's hand came up, and the gun jumped, spurting noise and flame. The bullet slammed into my body.
