Astounding Stories of Super-Science, August 1930

"Which," said Bell--and somehow his manner made utter silence fall so that each word fell separately into a vast stillness--"which, thank God, is the one thing that wins finally, for me!" He stood up and laughed. Quite a genuine laugh. "Paula," he said comfortably, "get on the plane. In the cabin. Jamison and I are going to strip The Master." Paula stared. The Master looked at him blankly. Jamison frowned bewilderedly, but stood up grimly to obey. "But Senor," said The Master in gentle dignity, "merely to humiliate me--" "Not for that," said Bell. He laughed again. "But all the time I've been hearing about the stuff, I've noticed that nobody thought of it as a drug. It was a poison. People were poisoned. They did not become addicts. But you--you are the only addict to your drug." He turned to Jamison, his eyes gleaming. "Jamison," he said softly, "did you ever know of a drug addict who could bear to think of ever being without a supply of his drug--right on his person?" Jamison literally jumped. "By God! No!" The Master was quick. He was swarming up the plane-wing tip before Jamison reached him, and he kicked frenziedly when Jamison plucked him off. But then it was wholly, entirely, utterly horrible that the little white haired man, whose face and manner had seemed so cherubic and so bland, should shriek in so complete a blind panic as they forced his fingers open and took a fountain pen away from him.