waste any more of your time this morning, Mr. Wheale; I'm sure you're a busy man. What time should we come this afternoon?'
'Oh, about two-thirty,' I said casually. I escorted her to the door and watched her drive away in a small car. These archeological boffins seemed to be a queer crowd; Fallon had imputed dishonesty to Halstead, and Mrs. Halstead had accused Fallon of downright criminality. The in-fighting in academic circles seemed to be done with very sharp knives.
I thought of the chemistry set I had when a boy, it was a marvellous set with lots of little bottles and phials containing powders of various hue. If you mixed the powders odd things were likely to happen, but if they were kept separate they were quite inert.
I was tired of meeting with inertness from Fallon and the Halsteads -- no one had been forthright enough to tell why he wanted the tray. I wondered what odd things were likely to happen when I mixed them together at two-thirty that afternoon.
IV.
I went back and had another go at Jack Edgecombe. If he hadn't actually caught fire, at least he was a bit luminous around the edges, which made arguing with him less of an uphill struggle. I chipped at him a bit more and managed to strike another spark of enthusiasm, and then packed him off to look at the farm with a new vision.
The rest of the morning was spent in the darkroom. I cut up the length of 35 mm film, which was now dry, and made a contact print just to see what I had. It didn't seem too bad and most of the stuff was usable, so I settled down and made a series of eight by ten prints. They weren't as professional as those that Fallon had shown me, but they were good enough for comparison with his.
I even printed out my failures including those that had happened when the electronic flash popped off unexpectedly. One of those was very interesting -- to the point of being worthy of scrutiny under a magnifying glass. It was a real puzzler and I badly wanted to set up the tray and take more pictures, but there wasn't time to do it before my visitors arrived.
The Halsteads came fifteen minutes early, thus demonstrating their eagerness. Halstead was a man of about thirty-five who seemed to be living on his nerves. I suppose he was handsome in an odd sort of way if you go for the hawklike visage; his cheekbones stood out prominently and his eyes were deep sunk in dark sockets so that he looked as though he were recovering from a week's binge. His movements were quick and his conversation staccato, and I thought he'd be a wearing companion if one had to put up with him for any length of time. Mrs. Halstead seemed to manage all right and maintained a smooth outward serenity which shed a calmness over the pair of them and compensated for Halstead's nerviness. Maybe it was something she worked hard at.
She introduced her husband and there was the briefest of -social chit-chat before a sudden silence. Halstead looked at me expectantly and twitched a bit. 'The tray?' he enquired in a voice which rose a bit more than was necessary.
I looked at him blandly. 'Oh, yes,' I said. 'I have some photographs here in which you might be interested.' I gave them to him and noted that his hands were trembling.
He flicked through them quickly, then looked up and said sharply, 'These are pictures of your tray?'
'They are.'
He turned to his wife. 'It's the right one -- look at the vine leaves. Exactly like the Mexican tray. There's no doubt about it.'
She said doubtfully, 'It seems to be the same.'
'Don't be a fool,' he snapped. 'It is the same. I studied the Mexican tray long enough, for God's sake! Where's our picture?'
Mrs. Halstead produced it and they settled down to a comparison. 'Not an identical replica,' pronounced Halstead. 'But close enough. Undoubtedly made by the same hand -- look at the veining in the leaves.'
'I guess you're right.'
'I am right,' he said positively, and jerked his head round to, me. 'My wife said you'd let me see the tray.'
I didn't like his manner -- he was too damned driving and impolite, and perhaps I didn't like the way he spoke to his wife. 'I told her there wasn't any reason why you shouldn't see it. At the same time there doesn't seem any reason why you should. Would you care to enlighten me?' He didn't like resistance or opposition. 'It's a purely professional and scientific matter,' he said stiffly. 'It forms part of my present research; I doubt if you would understand it.'
Try me.' I said softly, resenting his superior and condescending attitude. 'I can understand words of two syllables -- maybe words of three syllables if you speak them very slowly.'
Mrs. Halstead chipped in. 'We would be very grateful if we could see the tray. You would be doing us a great service. Mr. Wheale.' She wouldn't apologize for her husband's unfortunate manner, but she was doing her best to drop some polite social oil into the works.
We were interrupted by Madge. There's a gentleman to see you, Mr. Wheale.'
I grinned at Halstead. Thank you, Mrs. Edgecombe; show him in, will you?'
When Fallon walked in Halstead gave a convulsive jerk. He turned to me and said in a high voice, 'What's he doing here?'
'Professor Fallon is here on my invitation, as you are,' I said sweetly.
Halstead bounced to his feet. 'I'll not stay here with that man. Come along, {Catherine.'
'Wait a minute, Paul. What about the tray?'
That brought Halstead to a dead stop. He looked uncertainly at me, then at Fallon. 'I resent this,' he said in a trembling voice. 'I resent it very much.'
Fallon had been as astonished to see Halstead as Halstead had been to see him. He stood poised in the doorway and said, 'You think I don't resent it, too? But I'm not blowing my top about it like a spoiled child. You were always too explosive, Paul.' He advanced into the room. 'May I ask what you think you're doing, Wheale?'
