rebellion of its own electricity.

"I guess none of 'em knew what struck 'em!" The professor hazarded this
humane suggestion, feeling that the oppressive silence should be broken
somehow.

"The Kremmler chair was nothing to it," said Swift.

"You are right," answered Mr. Ticks, gravely. "That was the only boon.
So sudden and intense was the heat that men were ashes and the city was
molten before nerves could convey sensation to the brain. In the
fraction of a second, in the twinkling of a thought it was not, for God
took it."

The four breathed heavily. Again Mr. Ticks broke the silence. He laid
his hand paternally upon the young lady's shoulder.

"It is very fortunate, Miss Magnet, that you were the only thoroughly
insulated person in this whole territory. The wooden boat, the inverted
glasses saved you. You only had a normal amount of electricity in you.
You were a poor conductor, otherwise you would have evaporated through
the law of induction."

"I can't stand this any longer, or I'll be a fit candidate for an idiot
asylum!" blurted out the professor finally. "I am dying for a chaw."

He cast impatient glances at a trackless, desolated grade a mile away.
This grave of a great trunk line extended beyond their view.

The four had not stirred from where they had been dropped by the
balloon. To do so they would have had to pick their way cautiously.
Russell was like an extinct volcano. She was yet hot. But she did not
smoke, as one might have expected. There were no smouldering embers left
to produce smoke. Combustion had been instantaneous and complete.

But the travellers had no need to go sight-seeing. Everywhere was the
same blackened, cooling, ferruginous slag. To see one square yard was to
see the whole. The appalling thing about the effect was the cause.
Civilization, ever ready with revengeful thrusts, as if protesting
against the advance of science, had produced a new accident, a unique
disaster.

Swift made an automatic motion for his watch.

"I must go," he said; "I must get my despatch to the _Planet_ in time
for the evening edition. We will have a scoop on the whole world."

"I'm your man," said the professor. "We can foot it to the nearest
telegraph station in four hours."

"Ah, I forgot," said Swift. "That will lose me the four o'clock edition.
I'll have to hold the wire all night if I can get it. I'll wire such an
account as no other paper will ever get. There isn't a minute to lose!"
It