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“Try after lunch.”

Amos watched them carry Frank away. Then he put out the lights and closed up the laboratory. He told the watchman he’d be around for a while, and went to his office to think.

As nearly as he knew, Frank had taken the drug less than twenty-four hours before he had. Death had come late at night, which meant Frank had been working overtime. Why? And why hadn’t he been able to save himself?

“Not logical,” his unconscious stated firmly. “He should have felt it coming and made repairs.”

“This whole thing’s a delusion,” said Amos dully, aloud.

“No, it isn’t,” said a peculiar voice behind him.

He whirled and saw the black tomcat grinning up at him. He gasped, wondering if he were completely insane, but in a flash understanding came. “Frank!”

“Well, don’t act so surprised. I can tell that you took some yourself.”

“Yes—but how—”

“I thought it would be an easy life and I want to stay around here and watch things for a while. It ought to be fun.”

“But how?”

“I anesthetized the cat and grew a bridge into his skull. It took five hours to transfer the bulk of my personality. It’s odd, but it blended right in with his.”