There was a long silence. Curt broke it by saying, "What did you expect to accomplish by my vanishing?"
Fred told him of Horace's shouting to his wife, "Ethel! I've got it!", and the others seeming to have a flash of divination or insight just before they vanished.
"I wanted," he explained dully, "to be with you when it happened, in the hopes I could get something more than I have to go on. In that way I might be able to find out something so I could bring my father back. And Mom." He began to cry.
"I see," Curt said, calm and a little subdued. "It's possible that may come. After what I've seen happen I can admit it as a possibility."
"Then you will make every effort to tell me?" Fred asked.
Curt smiled wryly. "You make it sound inevitable. But—yes, I will."
Fred's eyes were large and round. "I've got to find the mechanism. I've got to go where they've vanished to and show them how to get back!" He turned his eyes on Curt. "Don't you hate me?" he pleaded. "I'm just the same as a murderer!"
"No, my son," Curt said gently. "Wherever your father is, your mother is with him now. If—" A startled expression appeared on his face. "So that's it," he almost whispered.
"What's it?" Fred asked. "Tell me. Please tell me. I've got to know, you know. You promised!"
Curt frowned in a visible effort to jerk himself back. His eyes, holding a faraway look, rested on Fred's face, looked at it, and through it.