[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Thrilling Wonder Stories, August 1947.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Professor Weedlemeyer sputtered in his eagerness, making large gestureswith his hands.
"Of course!" he shouted, his accent becoming thicker with hisexcitement. "It is lunacy to think only man will increase in hisintelligence! Animals will too—ya, und insects! It will be a fiercecompetition for the earth be—man and the animals!"
Jon Egan, science reporter and man of all work for the CarolinaBugle, yawned and searched vainly through littered pockets for acigarette that wasn't there. He had heard all this before.
"Wish you'd do something about my dog Spurious," he muttered. "He isthe dumbest—"
"Stop annoying me with that fool hound!" Professor Weedlemeyer saidcrossly. He lifted his voice in a bellow. "Myrtle! Myrtle—where is thebeer?"
Jon Egan brightened. The swinging door to the kitchen was opened by afoot, and a tray with beer glasses and bottles came through, followedby Myrtle Weedlemeyer, the professor's daughter.
Draw no hasty conclusions from the unfortunate name, product ofabsent-minded and uneclectic parental haste. Myrtle Weedlemeyer wasas beautiful as the sun. She was tall, with a magnificent lush bodywhose curves were a constant threat to the flimsy material seeking torestrain them.
She had gleaming black hair falling in smooth waves to a pair ofwondrously formed shoulders. She had an oval face with skin as lambentas pearl and, as a final touch, a pair of huge, incredible blue eyesthat were alight with internal fires.
She crossed the room, balancing the tray of drinks effortlessly,and the fluid motion of her body made Jon Egan's breath stop in histhroat. As happened every time he saw this, he realized all over againthat the reason he came out here was to see her, not to listen to theProfessor's perpetual monolog on I.Q.
"... man of the future," Weedlemeyer was droning, "will undoubtedly alarge, bulging crown have—hairless of course—und his jaws will shrinkin proportion."
Myrtle sat down on the divan across from Egan, crossed sleekly roundedlegs and turned the full voltage of her eyes on the newspaper man.He shuddered, downed half a glass of beer in a frenzied gulp thatbackfired and nearly choked him to death.
When he came out of the red fog of coughing, Myrtle sat beside himpatting him on the back. The warmth of her closeness and the fragrantscent of her sent his blood pressure soaring.
"Let's go to the movies," he mumbled, catching her hand and getting up.
"Goody."
She snuggled against him. Professor Weedlemeyer regarded them sourly.
"I think I take back what I said about the intelligence of humans,"he grumbled. "Movies—when science offers you the world! Bah, lessintelligence than donkeys you have."
"You keep the science, daddy," Myrtle said generously. "I'll do betterwith what I have."
She turned her eyes on Egan again and the reporter, feeling his bonesbegin to soften like butter, agreed with no mental reservations.
"How sharper than a serpent's tooth is an ungrateful child!"Weedlemeyer groaned. "I tell you, I bet I could take a cat—adonkey—and make him smarter as you two!"
"Yeh? How?" Egan said.
"A nice question." Weedlemeyer's eyes went thoughtful. "Of course thebrain is not so highly convoluted. In generations, of course—butthere is no time." A new thought struck him. "Suppose an animal weresuddenly to have the mind and the thoughts of a man. What would he do?"
"I am reminded of a story,"