"In Hiding by Wilmar H. Shiras" - читать интересную книгу автора (Willis Connie)

through them again. If you don't see anything in these
pictures, III have to mark you a failure," he explained.
"That won't do. You did all right on the other things. And
maybe next time we'll do a game youll like better."
"I don't feel like playing this game now. Can't we do it
again next time?"
"May as well get it done now. It's not only a game, you
know, Tim; it's a test. Try harder, and be a good sport."
So Tim, this time, told what he saw in the ink blots. They
went through the cards slowly, and the test showed Tim's
fear, and that there was something he was hiding; it showed
his caution, a lack of trust, and an unnaturally high emo-
tional self-control.
Miss Page had been right; the boy needed help.
"Now," said Welles cheerfully, "that's all over. Well just
run through them again quickly and III tell you what other
people have seen in them."
A flash of genuine interest appeared on the boy's face for
a moment.
Welles went through the cards slowly, seeing that Tim
was attentive to every word. When he first said, "And some
see what you saw here," the boy's relief was evident. Tim
began to relax, and even to volunteer some remarks. When
they had finished he ventured to ask a question.
"Dr. Welles, could you tell me the name of this test?"
"It's sometimes called the Rorschach test, after the man
who worked it out."
"Would you mind spelling that?"
Welles spelled it, and added: "Sometimes it's called the
ink-blot test."
Tim gave a start of surprise, and then relaxed again with
a visible effort.
"What's the matter? You jumped."
"Nothing."
"Oh, come on! Let's have it," and Welles waited.
"Only that I thought about the ink-pool in the Kipling
stories," said Tim, after a minute's reflection. "This is
different."
"Yes, very different," laughed Welles. "I've never tried
that. Would you like to?"
"Oh, no, sir," cried Tim earnestly.
"Youre a little jumpy today," said Welles. "We've time
for some more talk, if you are not too tired."
"No, I'm not very tired," said the boy warily.
Welles went to a drawer and chose a hypodermic needle,
It wasn't usual, but perhaps"I'll just give you a little shot
to relax your nerves, shall I? Then we'd get on better."
When he turned around, the stark terror on the child's
face stopped Welles in his tracks.
"Oh, nol Don'tl Please, please, don't!"