After lunch, Dr. Allen H. Dale informed Dr. Mier that, as he was a bit fatigued from his trip, he would like to rest for a few hours. Mier agreed whole-heartedly, and the two men made an appointment to meet later in the afternoon for a tour of the Grosstat Museum of Cultural History, and perhaps dinner and a few drinks afterwards.
After seeing his guest into his room, Dr. Mier strolled out of the hotel, stepped into his car, and ordered the driver to take him to the Museum. There were big things to be done. This new threat from the south was not to be taken too lightly.
At the Museum—a huge, cold-looking, blocky granite structure—Mier climbed out of his car, toiled up the broad stairs to the entrance, and strolled rollingly in. On every side, flunkies, both in uniform and out, bowed and scraped as the Great Man passed by. Dr. Mier reached his book-lined office just as the telephone rang.
He picked up the instrument, a mechanism of ancient design possessing no vision equipment, and announced that he was Dr. Rudolf Mier.
"This is Lieutenant-Marshal Dilon, State Police. You have just returned from lunch with a Dr. Allen H. Dale, purporting to be from the Galactic Museum?"
"Why, yes; I just—What do you mean, purporting?"
"We have reason to believe, Doctor, that this man is wanted by the Interstellar Police. We have received a communication from I.P. headquarters warning us that Dr. Allen H. Dale is actually a man named Leland Hale."
"Who is Leland Hale?"
"A criminal, Doctor. He is wanted so badly that the I.P. is actually sending a contingent of men here to apprehend him," said the lieutenant-marshal.