hand and gazed stupidly at his friend.

"Certainly, you nut. Think I had it up my sleeve? But here, watch
again, there's something else."

The crackling, misty light again filled the bowl.

"Suppose," Bart ventured, "you bring in something large--big as a
house, let's say. What would it do to your machine?"

"Can't. The ray'll only pick up stuff that'll enter the bowl.
Look--here's the next arrival."

The mysterious light died down and the scientist picked up the second
object with trembling fingers. It was a knife of beautiful
workmanship, fashioned from obsidian and obviously the work of human
hands.

"There! Didn't I tell you?" Van gloated. "Guess that shows there were
living beings on the moon."

He made minute changes in the adjustment of his marvelous instrument
and Bart watched in dazed astonishment as object after object
materialized before their eyes. There were fragments of strange
minerals; more fossils, marine life, mostly; a roughly beaten silver
plate; three diamonds, none of which was as large as what Van had
taken to New York, but all of considerable value.

"This'll be something for the papers, Van!" Bart Madison was visioning
the fame that was to come to his friend.

"Yeah, all but the diamonds."

* * * * *

"All but the diamonds is right!"

These words were spoken by a sarcastic voice, chill as an icicle, that
came from the open door. They wheeled to look into the muzzles of two
automatic pistols that were trained on them by a stocky individual who
faced them with a twisted, knowing grin.

"Danny Kelly!" Bart gasped, raising his hands slowly to the level of
his shoulders. He knew the ex-army captain was a dead shot with the
service pistol, and a desperate man since his disgrace and forced
resignation. "What's the big idea?" he demanded.

"You don't need to ask. Refused me a loan this morning, didn't you?
Now I'm getting it this way." Kelly turned savagely on Van, prodding
his ribs with a pistol. "Get 'em up, you!" he snapped.

Van had been slow in raising his hands, gaping in stupefied amazement
at the intruder. Now he reached for the ceiling without delay.

"You'll serve time for this, Danny!" Bart shouted.

"Shut up! I know what I'm doing. And back up, too--where--no, the
other door." Kelly was forcing him toward the door of the cellar at
the point of one pistol as he kept Van covered with the other.

Bart clenched his fist and brought it down in