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"I have tried to select such facts as I believe instructive and interesting. My engineer friend clamors for the manuscript which is to be dispatched in his secret container. He says it will take about two months for it to reach the earth. He is waiting beside my desk, so I must bring my account to a close. You may never receive it—I can only hope that you will.

"I cannot return to my home and loved ones until The Space Bender is put in condition and I receive permission for my departure from King Tabi. His majesty desires to consult the 'Yow-Yow' or General Council before issuing his royal mandate. From several hints he has given me, however, I have no doubt it will be favorable. Look for me, think of me, pray for me, for surely never did mortal man stand more in need of aid than I do. Until we meet, old comrade, pupil and helper—good-by!"

Forbes laid down the manuscript and sat, head on hand, staring into the fire. The date on the manuscript, given in earthly time, was over twenty years ago, so the glass bottle has been buried approximately that long.

Twenty years! A long while. Surely in that time the marvelous machine had been repaired. It could not be otherwise. Disaster had overtaken his well-loved friend and employer. It was no use to hope. It was finished.

What had happened to him? Where was he? Had the king refused permission to return to earth, and was Livermore a prisoner on that strange planet? Perhaps he had made the attempt and had failed; had been killed or marooned in some totally incomprehensible world of the fourth dimension.

Ye gods, what an adventure! A momentary doubt assailed Forbes. Perhaps it was a huge joke, after all. But no, Livermore had disappeared, and, so far as he could tell, the glass bottle and the paper were entirely new substances. He did not know what to think.

He recalled the strange behavior of his pet cat, Archibald, when brought near the bottle or the manuscript. Could it be that some subtle bond attracted the creature to these products of his super-relatives? Pish! That was arrant nonsense. And yet—

Forbes rose, knocked the ashes from his long extinct pipe, and walked over to the window, which he raised to admit a flood of fresh, cold air. The storm had ceased. A shaft of golden sunlight flashed on an opposite window. The milkman called to his horse and jingled his bottles. A bell clanged on a distant car. The man across the way opened his door, poked out his head, and took in his daily paper. It was day. The affairs of the world went on . . . ***

By this time you probably know that the author has had a little fun with you at your expense; but, after all, even though this story is an excellent satire, why should there not be a cat-like race somewhere? Do we not have a cat-like man and woman with us already? Every one of us has met the cat-man and the cat-woman. Why not a whole race?—Editor.

the previous one. We see and recognize this truth daily in the phenomena of humanity. Every baby born starts life a little in advance, materially and mentally, of its father. This process is very slow and we call it evolution, but it is a perceptible progress nevertheless. It may be aptly likened to the whorls of a spring as compared to a mere flat coil of wire. The earth follows an orbit around the sun, and every year it is in the same relative position with regard to the sun as it was the previous year. It has completed one of its countless cycles. But you know as well as I do that the sun and the earth, as well as the other planets, are all farther along in space together. There is a general progression of twelve miles a second on some vaster orbit. This general progression, then, is analogous to our possibility of change and growth; the power to better our conditions; in other words, it is a fifth dimension."

"The wheels of the Juggernaut can be turned aside," I said reverently, "and there is hope.'"