Page:Weird Tales Volume 8 Number 5 (1926-11).djvu/47

 hand is completely formed, all car-pals, metacarpals and phalanges being clear and of proper shape. A rudiment of radius and ulna are present, but fade away near the point of attachment of the hand. The muscles and fasehe of the hand are attached to the intercostal muscles below the eleventh rib. Blood supply from an intercostal artery. A doubtful spot may be a ganglion for the nerve supply.

June 15, 1925.—Pendleton in again today, after a week's absence from town. At my question, "How is the hand getting on?" he answered shortly, "See for yourself, doctor."

He stripped, and I proceeded to remove the tape and bandages.

I started back when I saw the hand. "Why, it has grown!" I exclaimed. "It seems twice as large as last week. Like that of a child of five or six years!"

Pendleton nodded grimly. "That's why I told you to see for yourself, doctor! I wanted you to be sure about that fact. What are you going to do with it?"

"Remove it," I said firmly. "This week! It should not be a very serious matter."

A queer look came into Pendleton's eyes. "You don't suppose that in removing this—er—this—what is left of my twin, we would be—er—doing murder?"

I smiled at the fancy. "No, hardly. You may liken this hand to a tumor. Removal of a tumor does not constitute murder, does it? A tumor is a parasitic growth. This hand is a parasitic growth. We remove parasitic growths before they become too dangerous. Murder?"

"Well, no," he said. "But I had a crazy dream about it the other night," he added apologetically. "I dreamed I saw my twin and that he said, 'You have had your share of life at my expense. Now I want my own. Don't you dare tamper with things. I'm going to have my way.' And then I woke up."

"Rather obvious," I commented. "A natural sequence of our conversation of twin entities, or rather, of one twin overcoming the other. Nothing-to it, my boy." I patted him on the shoulder. "What do you say about three days from now? That will give you time to prepare. Not a serious operation, you understand. But it is good to be prepared."

He assented, and after taking a few more photographs I dismissed him.

July 21, 1925.—San Francisco, Calif, A telegram just received from Pendleton: "Come back to operate. Urgent." The illness and death of my father had called me to California before I could operate on Pendleton. And the disposition of the estate required a longer absence than contemplated.

I wired back, "On way in two days. Expect me by twenty-fifth."

July 26, 1925.—Back in Cassia City. Pendleton met me at the station this afternoon. He looked pale and thin and haunted. Despite the heat he was shivering. "Thank God you have come, doctor!" he cried. "I am going insane."

I looked at him curiously. "You don't mean that the hand"

"It's—it's growing, doctor!" His eyes held a wild and frightened look. "It is larger—and a part of the

I stared at him in unbelief. "Hardly possible," I said.

"But it is, doctor," he insisted. "Doctor, you haven't known me for a fool. This thing has given me no rest for a month. It is always twisting and pulling, as if it were trying to reach into me for something. It's driving me mad!" Cold terror was in his voice.

The taxi stopped at my office and we hurried in. Pendleton stripped