“On the basis of that error a fellow physicist brought together a near-critical mass of plutonium, and, as a result, was subjected to radiation. Fortunately he recovered. However, Raymond, an extremely sensitive person, felt totally responsible and brooded over it so much that his mind snapped.”
“Why didn’t we hear any news of his escape?” Radnor asked.
“Because of the top-secret work he was doing prior 172 TOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT ROBOT
to his misfortune, our search for Raymond has been carried on without any publicity,” the doctor replied.
“And would this condition explain his recent criminal associations?” Tom queried.
“It’s very likely,” Dr. Morrow answered. “Physicians can never predict to what lengths such an obsession will drive a person. Almost any action is possible.”
After a pause the doctor added, “I hope that you people will help the hospital authorities find this patient before he carries out the dire schemes we overheard him planning while he was at Blackstone. Oh, one thing I didn’t make clear. His case isn’t hopeless, but he needs further care and treatment.”
“We’ll sure do our best to find him,” declared Bud, memories of his experience on the mesa still fresh in his mind.
Wishing to communicate with his father at once and give him the complete story, Tom said good-by to the others and went to his office. There he called the Citadel and gave Mr. Swift the full details.
The elder scientist was grave, remarking that the situation called for extreme care. Raymond Turnbull’s actions would doubtless be cunning and unpredictable.