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A Legend? Not according to the records of the chroniclers of the Order of San Augustin and the order of Santo Domingo. Not according to Dr. Antonio de Morga, high justice of the criminal court of the Royal Audiencia of New Spain, in his Sucesos do las Islas Filipinas. peripatetic my eye, He fought Like a Mad-Man & could not be taken aboard, so he was Let-down. They kept his rifle, though axis, if indeed it is teleportation. We can find unexplained disappearances and appearances, but, offhand, we don't know of others just like this one. And t seems as though there may be several debatable disappearances. But what are you going to do with apports, or appearances? It seems to me that they are a sort of second order phenomenon, unless they can be connected somehow with corresponding disappearances, some place. Shall we settle for a kidnapping by UFO's? "Help, help! It's got me!" This pitiful plea ending in a piercing scream brought friends running to Oliver Lerch's home, into the bright moonlit night. But he was not to be seen, although they could hear his voice, growing fainter, calling for help from a hundred feet or more above their heads. "Help me, help..." Oliver Lerch was never seen again on the face of this earth; and thus was recorded one of the most amazing disappearances ever to confront our modern age—the disappearance of a man into thin air! The facts of the case are clearly written down for everyone to see in the police records of South Bend, Indiana, and have been attested to by level-headed persons not given to delusions, mass hysteria or suggestion. These witnesses include lawyers; Reverend Samuel Mallelieu, the local Methodist minister; and responsible citizens who actually witnessed the weird disappearance. The impossible happened on the farm of Tom Lerch, Christmas Eve, 1890, in a community of over 100,000 people—by no means an ignorant backwoods settlement filled with limitless superstition. The Lerch farm stood (and still does) on the outskirts of South Bend, an ordinary farmhouse with the roof sweeping low over the entire building and no attic—no nook or crevice which could conceal a dead body. Tom Lerch was a stern father who demanded absolute obedience from his two sons; 23 year old Jim, and especially 20 year old Oliver; however, there was nothing to indicate that he was unkind to the boys. The house was the scene of a merry Christmas party, and young Oliver was in good spirits as he sang with his girl, pretty Lillian Hirach, daughter of a Chicago attorney, a friend of his father's who was also a guest. Jim had his attention also arrested by a young lady whom he later married. Altogether, perhaps twenty people were gathered around the piano, singing hymns and gay holiday songs. Nothing foretold of the grim tragedy which was to come. Outside, the night was still and quiet. After a day of dimness and snowfall, the winds shifted and the clouds faded away. Now the moon shone down on a countryside charmingly beautiful with glistened snow. Around 10:00, Oliver's mother, who was preparing supper, called to him to fetch some water from the well. He smiled and excused himself from Miss Hirsch. He walked from the living room and put on his coat, cap and gloves. Then he went out into the calm night. That was the last time any person saw him on this earth. 96 This case of this peripatetic soldier is one where we can tie down both ends of a teleportation