"Well," McGill said, "my hunch was right. He got out."
"So I see," said Molly, smiling at me proudly. "What happened? Knock
over one of the jailers?"
I shook my head and told her, including the cat-and-dog episode and the
police car blowout.
"Don't forget the lock downstairs," McGill said, and when I told her
that, too, he added, "You see, I think it's beginning to take sides. I
think it's watching out for its nucleus. Alec ought to be rather lucky
right now."
"Well, I don't feel it," I said. "I feel hemmed in."
* * * * *
Molly glanced at me anxiously and turned back to him. "What do we do
now?"
"First, before any more funny stuff happens, I want to rig up a few
tests and see what's with Alec, if anything. I'll even test for EMF,
Molly, just for the sake of satisfying you."
"For what?" I asked.
"Electromagnetic force. Come and give me a hand, Molly. Alec, you stay
put and relax. We'll call you when we get set. I only hope to God the
cops and the news-hawks don't tumble to where we are."
They left and I went to the window and looked out at the wind blowing
papers and dust into miniature tornadoes in the dim light, and wondered
whether it was going to storm. A few belated students on the way to
their dormitories evidently were wondering the same thing, for they
were all looking up at the sky. I went to the desk and turned the radio
on, low.
"... are doing all they can, which doesn't seem much," Bill Bart was
saying breathlessly. "He was last seen speeding uptown on the Westshore
Drive, but the cops lost him. The town is gripped in superstitious
fear--it is now known that Graham was responsible for the elevators
jamming in the I.T.V. Building this morning--but how did he do it?
I ask you: how? And how has he turned off all the electric power in
Greenwich Village? I contacted the power company for an explanation,
but I was put off with the usual doubletalk. I say, and I repeat, _this
man must be caught_! He is...."