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Alsgood wasn't able to see anything amusing about their conversation。 He frowned when he detected levity in Paul's voice； and he said； 〃I didn't really expect you to take me seriously。〃
〃Oh； please don't think I'm not grateful for…〃
〃No； no；〃 Alsgood said； waving him to silence。
〃I understand。 No offense taken。〃 The excitement had gone out of his watery eyes。 〃You've been raised to believe strictly in science。 You've been taught to put your faith only in things that can be seen and touched and measured。 That's the modem way。〃 His shoulders slumped。 The color in his face faded； and his skin became pale； grayish； and slack； as it had been a few minutes ago。 〃Asking you to be open…minded about ghosts is as pointless as trying to convince a deep…sea creature that there are such things as birds。 It's sad but true； and I have no reason to be angry about it。〃
He opened the front door； and the sound of the rain grew louder。 〃Anyway； for your sake； I hope it isn't a poltergeist you've got here。 I hope you find that logical explanation you're looking for。 I really do； Mr。 Tracy。〃
Before Paul could respond； Alsgood turned and walked out into the rain。 He no longer seemed like a zealot； there was no trace of passion in him。 He was just a thin； gray man； shuffling through the gray mist； head slightly bowed against the gray rain； illuminated by the gray light of the storm； he almost seemed like a ghost himself；
Paul closed the door； put his back against it； and looked around the hall； through the nearest archway； which opened onto the living room。 Poltergeist？ Not very damned likely。
He preferred Alsgood's other suggestion： that the hammering might simply stop as suddenly and inexplicably as it had started； without the cause ever being known。
He glanced at his watch。 6：06。
Carol had said she would remain at the hospital until eight o'clock and would then e home for a late meal。 That gave him an hour or so to work on his novel before he had to start cooking dinner… broiled chicken breasts； steamed vegetables； and rice with bits of green pepper。
He went upstairs to his office and sat down at the typewriter。 He picked up the last page he had written； intending to reread it a few times and get back into the mood and tone of the story he was telling。
THUNK！ THUNK！
The house shook。 The windows rattled。
He bolted up from his chair。
THUNK！
On his desk； the jar full of pens and pencils toppled over； cracked into several pieces； and spilled its contents onto the floor。
Silence。
He waited。 One minute。 Two minutes。
Nothing。
There was no sound except the snapping of the rain against the windows and the drumming of it on the roof。
Only three hammer blows this time。 Harder than any that had e before。 But only three。 Almost as if someone were playing games with him； taunting him。
***
Shortly before midnight； in room 316； the girl laughed softly in her sleep。
Outside her window； lightning pulsed； and the night flickered； and the darkness seemed to gallop for a moment； as if it were a huge and eager beast。
The girl turned onto her stomach without waking； murmured into her pillows。 〃The ax；〃 she said with a wistful sigh。 〃The ax。 。。。〃
On the stroke of midnight； just forty minutes after she had fallen asleep； Carol bolted up from her pillows； trembling violently。 As she struggled out of the grip of her nightmare； she heard someone say； 〃It's ing！ It's ing！〃 She stared wildly； blindly into the lightless room until she realized the panic…stricken voice had been her own。
Suddenly she could not tolerate the darkness one second longer。 She fumbled desperately for the switch on the bedside lamp； found it； and sagged with relief。
The light didn't disturb Paul。 He mumbled in his sleep but didn't wake。
Carol leaned back against the headboard and listened to her racing heart as it gradually slowed to a normal beat。
Her hands were icy。 She put them under the covers and curled them into warming fists。
The nightmares have got to stop； she told herself。 I can't go through this every night。 I need my sleep。
Perhaps a vacation was called for。 She had been working too hard for too long。 The accumulated weariness was probably partly to blame for her bad dreams。 She had also been under a great deal of unusual stress lately： the pending adoption； the near…tragic events in O'Brian's office on Wednesday； the accident just yesterday morning； the girl's amnesia for which she felt responsible。 。。 。 Living with too much tension could cause exceptionally vivid nightmares of the sort she was experiencing。 A week in the mountains； away from everyday problems； seemed like the perfect medicine。
In addition to all the other sources of stress； that day was approaching； the birthday of the child she had put up for adoption。 A week from tomorrow； the
Saturday after next； would mark sixteen years since she had relinquished the baby。 Already； eight days in advance of that anniversary； she was burdened by a heavy mantle of guilt。 By the time next Saturday rolled around； she would most likely be thoroughly depressed； as usual。 A week in the mountains； away from everyday problems； might be the perfect medicine for that ailment； too。
Last year； she and Paul had purchased a vacation cabin on an acre of timbered land in the mountains。 It was a cozy place…two bedrooms； one bath； a living room with a big stone fireplace； and a plete kitchen…a retreat that bined all the forts of civilization with the clean air； marvelous scenery； and tranquility that could not be found in the city。
They had planned to get away to the cabin at least two weekends every month during the summer； but they had made the trip only three times in the past four months； less than half as often as they had hoped。
Paul had labored hard to meet a series of self…imposed deadlines on his novel； and she had taken on more patients…a couple of really troubled kids who simply could not be turned away…and for both herself and Paul； work had expanded to fill every spare moment。 Perhaps they were the overachievers that Alfred O'Brian had thought they might be。
But we'll change when we have a child； Carol told herself。 We'll make lots of time for leisure and for family outings because creating the best environment for our child is the job we're looking forward to more than any other。
Now； sitting up in bed； the grisly nightmare still chillingly fresh in her mind； she decided to start changing her life from this moment on。 They would take off a few days； maybe a whole week； and go to the mountains before the remendations mittee's meeting at the end of the month； so they would be rested and posed when at last they met the child who would be theirs。 They couldn't take off this ing week； of course。 She would need time to reschedule her appointments。 Besides； she didn't want to leave town until Jane Doe's parents showed up and properly identified the girl； that might take a few more days。 But they ought to be able to carve a large chunk of time out of the week after next； and she made up her mind to start nudging Paul about it first thing in the morning。
Having reached that decision； she felt better。 The mere prospect of a vacatio