"After this, Lanse," I kidded him, "when you give a speech, you ought to pass out blueprints along with it. I wouldn't know how to operate that gadget myself from the explanation you gave. Matter of fact, I'm not sure I'll do it right the next time I try."
Strangely, he looked pleased.
He said, "You think so, Sparks? You really think so?"
"Granted," I said, "that I can actually think. So why the enthusiasm?"
He turned serious suddenly.
"I tried to be confusing," he said. "But even so, he learned too much. Entirely too much. Didn't you notice, Sparks, that several times when I fumbled for a word, he was the one who supplied it?"
"Why, darned if you're not right!" I recalled.
"And another thing—when you were first introduced to him, didn't you feel—er—peculiar? You must have. Because you started to say something—"
"I felt," I told him, "like a person in a nuthouse. I don't know why, but I felt like something inside my skull was digging for information. I almost spilled the secret of where we got the contraband hidden—"