Part 11 (1/2)

”Huh?”

”People will read it and vanis.h.!.+ You've got to believe me. _The cause of those disappearances is in that book!_”

Browne stared for a moment, then dragged over a notepad, wondering how his publicity boys had missed this one. He stood up and came around his desk. ”You leave it to me,” he said. ”You won't have a thing to worry about. I'll take care of everything.”

”Then you won't publish it?”

Browne was guiding him toward the door. ”You leave it to me. Drop in again soon. If you need money just drop in any time and I'll fix you up.”

Fred found himself outside the door, not quite sure what Mr. Browne had promised.

Inside, Browne went back to his desk, muttering, ”What a killing! Have to tell Nichols about it tomorrow at lunch. That vanis.h.i.+ng stuff is a terrific publicity angle.”

”You still don't want to tell me what's troubling you?” Police Captain Waters said wistfully.

A frown crossed Fred's features and vanished into a smile. ”Nothing's troubling me,” he lied. ”I'm all right. I'll be all right.”

”You'll stay with us a while longer?”

”Sure. Sure. You make me feel--okay. I'm just going out for a ride. Be back for supper.”

It had been two months now since his mother and Curt had vanished. In that two months he had come to realize something. He didn't quite know how to express it even in his thoughts.

It wasn't that he didn't want to vanish. He would, some day. But he had given up trying. It was the wrong way. The others hadn't tried. It had just come to them out of a clear sky.

Some day it would come to him that way, and he would welcome it.

He drove downtown and parked. A block away was a show he wanted to see.

He started toward it. Abruptly he stopped. In front of him was a bookstore. In its window was a large display, and every book had his father's picture on the front under the t.i.tle THEORY FOR THE MILLIONS.

In back of the display was a large poster with a still larger picture, and the teaser--(DO YOU DARE READ THIS BOOK?)

Anger flamed in Fred's mind. The anger died as abruptly as it had come.

It was replaced by a homesickness, a longing. Unconsciously his footsteps carried him into the store.

A man had the book in his hands.

”You aren't going to buy _that_, George,” the woman beside him was saying.

”And why not?” the man asked, laughing. ”I've never turned down a dare in my life!” He looked at the girl waiting on him. ”Do you think I'll vanish, Miss?”