"Yes."
"Why do you think that you are—going West?"
"There's a thing over there, born of gas. It's a living thing, animal or vegetable. I don't know which. It's only recently been recognized. We call it the 'Seed of Death.'"
Gray gazed at the haggard face of the older man in silence.
Vail went on, slowly: "It's properly named. It is always fatal. A man may live for a few months. But, once gassed, even in the slightest degree, if that germ is inhaled, death is certain."
After a silence Gray began: "Do you have any apprehension—" And did not finish the sentence.
Vail shrugged. "It's interesting, isn't it?" he said with pleasant impersonality.
After a silence Gray said: "Are you doing anything about it?"
"Oh, yes. It's working in the dark, of course. I'm feeling rottener every day."
He rested his handsome head on one thin hand: