CHAPTER 8Jay Bruce gasped.
For a moment the whole universe spun about in crazy circles. The tableau seemed to freeze just the way it was, in a timeless state. Dr. Kent with his hand on the main switch. Dora standing in back, curiously wooden. Gorson looking out at the roof, at the queer violet beam that stabbed upward.
The current of Bruce’s thoughts crackled. Lightning flashes of thought lanced down into the dark nightmare of recent events. Bruce’s jaw hung—and then suddenly snapped shut.
Only a split second had passed since the red bulb had flashed. Bruce leaped backward, grabbing Dora’s arm in a vice-like hand. His other hand reached up to clutch the locks of her coppery-brown hair.
And then, amazingly, he started to pull. It couldn’t be, this crazy suspicion of his. But he remember
