termination inherent in
things themselves, it could not be antecedent to things, as
their condition, nor discerned or intuited by means of
synthetical propositions _a priori_. But all this is quite
possible when we regard time as merely the subjective
condition under which all our intuitions take place.'

"There. Does that make it clear?"

"Clear as mud," grinned Baron. "Kant is too deep for me."

"I'll give you another proof," snapped Manthis. "Look at your watch."

The other drew out his timepiece. Slowly his face sobered.

"Why, I can't see the second hand," he exclaimed. "It's just a blur!"

"Exactly! Now look at the minute hand. Can you see it move?"

"Yes, quite clearly."

"What time is it?"

[Illustration: _A few remained standing like statues._]

"Half past one. Great Scott! So that's why you spun that yarn." Baron
hoisted his six feet one out of the easy chair. "It's way past your
bedtime. Didn't mean to keep you up." He stared again at his watch as
if it had betrayed him. "It seems we just finished dinner. I must have
dozed off...."

"Nonsense," sniffed Manthis. "You arrived at eight o'clock--an hour
late. You and I and my daughter had dinner. Then the two of us came in
here. We smoked a cigarette or two. Now it's half-past one. Do you
need more proof?"

"Your theory's all wet somewhere," the younger man protested with a
shaky laugh. "If my watch isn't broken, time must be speeding up, not
stopping."

"That comes from depending on your senses instead of your
intelligence. Think a minute. If the watch seems running double speed
that would indicate that your perception of its movements had slowed
down fifty per cent."

Baron sank back into his chair, leaned forward and gripped his curly
black hair with trembling fingers. He felt dizzy and befuddled.

"June," called the doctor. Then to the agitated youth he added: "Watch
my daughter when she comes in if you still think I'm crazy."

As he spoke the door flew open and a slim, golden-haired girl shot
into the room like a motion picture character in one of those comedies
which is run double speed. Jack's eyes could hardly follow her
movements.

She came behind her father and threw one slim arm about his shoulders.
She spoke, but her usually throaty voice was only a high-pitched
squeak.

"Can't understand you, dear," interrupted her father. "Write it down."

"June is using a drug which I prepared to keep her time sense