price to pay for the greatest brain in the world. It would certainly be worth the handicap. A little practice until I had adapted myself to my new condition and I could start to reap its benefits.
"For two days I exercised my growing knowledge. The discomforts were comparatively easily overcome. That evening, however, I had new and greater cause to worry.
"As I was sitting in my single room, prior to going to bed and dreaming of what I might do with my power, I began to grow dizzy. My head whirled and my lungs burned. I was suffocating! I was not breathing! Hastily I gulped in some air The hideous fact was apparent—I had to will myself to breath! No longer did my brain take care of my respiration without conscious help. My breathing, too, must be controlled by me!
"I did not sleep that night. Nor
the night following. My fears
were increasing with every hour.
That now devilish liquid had penetrated
through the cerebrum and
through the cerebellum, to touch the
medulla oblongata! Everything that
had absorbed it had been made dependent
upon my conscious behavior.
Oh God!—if that fluid should keep
penetrating. Do you see? Do you
understand? That evil drug would—Oh,
Lord, how foolish I had been!
"The crisis came that morning: My heart fluttered and stopped! My doom was sealed.
"I made it beat, as steadily and energetically as before. But it bound me to it with something worse than steel chains. Even my great brain was powerless. Every atom of concentration that I had was needed to keep me alive. No longer could I sleep, for to do so was to die. Nothing could interest me too intensely or I would lose control.
"Many times I had to start my heart into action—the minutes ticked by and became hours—my brain grew fogged-—my eyeballs stung and burned—my body quivered with fatigue. I arose and walked out into the rays of the mellow moon and the cool air fanned my cheeks. . . Crack! My thoughts whipped back to my condition. My heart had stopped. A searing pain racked it as I knotted the muscles to make it beat again.
"The night fled on lingering hours of torture. My body cried aloud for sleep, but my will cried louder for survival.
"The next night was worse. Stimulants forced me awake—awake so that I might suffer another day.
"My only hope was that my mental Frankenstein would be dissolved and carried away by the blood. A hope of which even my blinded brain knew the impossibility. And though the days dragged themselves through, like thirsty men on a desert of sand, I bore up. To slip into the portals of sleep, to relax into dreams—the temptation was maddening. Every second I had to be thinking. Every second since I came into this office I have been concentrating: Beat, beat, beat; a deep breath; beat, beat, beat. . . .
"Desperation has driven me to courage. I have one hope, a friend of mine; I am going there as soon as I leave you. Now give me those papers!"
Awkwardly, the tired man pushed himself erect. The lawyer sat paralyzed by the weird story of unimaginable suffering; he could neither think nor talk. Seconds of silence passed by. With a cry of rage at the unbearable suspense, the man
