ked a thumb at a small bale of heavy copper wire.

"Bring it over and we'll try it."

Miller was halfway to it when he brought up short. Then a sheepish grin
spread over his features.

"I get it," he chuckled. "That bale of wire might be the Empire State
Building, as far as we're concerned. Forgive my stupidity."

Erickson suddenly became serious.

"I'd like to be optimistic, Dave," he muttered, "but in all fairness to
you I must tell you I see no way out of this. The machine is, of course,
still working, and with that extra stage of power, the uncertainty would
be over. But where, in this world of immovable things, will we find a
piece of wire twenty-five feet long?"

* * * * *

There was a warm, moist sensation against Miller's hand, and when he
looked down Major stared up at him commiseratingly. Miller scratched him
behind the ear, and the dog closed his eyes, reassured and happy. The
young druggist sighed, wishing there were some giant hand to scratch him
behind the ear and smooth _his_ troubles over.

"And if we don't get out," he said soberly, "we'll starve, I suppose."

"No, I don't think it will be that quick. I haven't felt any hunger. I
don't expect to. After all, our bodies are still living in one instant
of time, and a man can't work up a healthy appetite in one second. Of
course, this elastic-second business precludes the possibility of
disease.

"Our bodies must go on unchanged. The only hope I see is--when we are on
the verge of madness, suicide. That means jumping off a bridge, I
suppose. Poison, guns, knives--all the usual wherewithal--are denied to
us."

Black despair closed down on Dave Miller. He thrust it back, forcing a
crooked grin.

"Let's make a bargain," he offered. "When we finish fooling around with
this apparatus, we split up. We'll only be at each other's throat if we
stick together. I'll be blaming you for my plight, and I don't want to.
It's my fault as much as yours. How about it?"

John Erickson gripped his hand. "You're all right, Dave. Let me give you
some advice. If ever you do get back to the present ... keep away from
liquor. Liquor and the Irish never did mix. You'll have that store on
its feet again in no time."

"Thanks!" Miller said fervently. "And I think I can promise that nothing
less than a whiskey antidote for snake bite will ever make me bend an
elbow again!"

* * * * *

For the next couple