Holly O'Toole was plainly bewildered.
"I wish I knew," he admitted. "I can't handle every angle alone, and if some changes don't come in a hurry, Wade, Dauna and Walter Ferrell will lose everything they have, including their sanity. You're the only man who can pound any brains into Wade's head. I figured you might be willing to try it, before it's too late."
He stood up rather stiffly, drew his belt up over his rounded paunch. Blake watched him with narrowed, speculative eyes. O'Toole looked at his watch.
"Where is Wade now?" Blake asked.
"At South Station since last night," O'Toole said.
"Does he know I'm on Earth?"
O'Toole looked doubtful.
"I'm afraid he does," he admitted. "I sent your radio-wave last week and he was in the office at the time. I can't explain why, but I have the feeling he checked up after I left and found out who I had radioed."
Blake followed O'Toole to the door, drew on his heavy coat.
"Let's get it over with," he shrugged his shoulders. "I've had to take Wade in hand a couple of times. Once more won't do any harm. We'll go to South Station."