"But what happened this time?"

"He has disappeared!"

Majors blinked. "Just like that?"

Dr. Pollard smiled and nodded. "Just like that!"

Majors thought for a moment. "We can locate him," he said uncertainly.

"No," Pollard said finally. "That will not do. The chances are very high that Carroll may have gone to his summer home."

"Well, let's find out."

"Let him alone. You underestimate the cleverness of the paranoid. He will detect any surveillance. It is my contention that Carroll may have had a glimmer of lucidity—that he may have been partially convinced of his error.

"Majors, there is only one way to cure a paranoid and that is to let him cure himself. Once his own evidence shows the truth, then he will believe. But until that time, all evidence either supports his theory or it is a canard produced by those who want to show him wrong."

"So?"

"So let him be. He can do little harm. In the case of the normal paranoid harboring a persecution complex, it is something tangible against him—wife, neighbor or friend. In that case it is best to do something quickly to protect the innocent. But in Carroll's case it is an intangible—remember the case, Majors?"

"Of course."

"Well, it hasn't changed a bit. Carroll undoubtedly discovered something that his mind refuses to recognize. Therefore this hallucination of the inimical race that is barring Terra from progress.

"What Terra needs more than the man himself is to know what Carroll discovered. I don't know what he's doing nor where he's doing it, but we'll find out—and we'll let him alone."

"Sort of futile, isn't it?" asked Majors.

"It's soul-scarringly futile," said Pollard hopelessly. "He will resent any outside help that does not eagerly agree with him—and then suspect it of chiding tolerance. He can come back only of his own machination. But to probe 

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