ion?"

"Oh, sure," said Harold, brightening. "Keep things moving. Have a
master of ceremonies who keeps jumping in and out of the act. Give
something away to the audience, if possible, to make them feel ashamed
not to tune in."

"No, no, no, no, _no_!" said Mildume. "I mean the technical
principles. A photo-electric beam scans the subject, translates light
and dark into electrical impulses, which eventually alter a cathode
ray played upon a fluorescent screen. Hence, the image. You grasp that
roughly, I take it?"

"Roughly," said Harold.

"Well," continued Mildume, "just as spots of light and dark are the
building blocks of an image, so sub-atomic particles are the building
blocks of matter. Once we recognize this the teleportation theory
becomes relatively simple. There are engineering difficulties, of
course.

"We must go back to Faraday's three laws of electrolysis--and
Chadwick's establishment in nineteen thirty-one of the fact that
radiation is merely the movement of particles of proton mass without
proton charge. Neutrons, you see. Also that atomic weights are close
integers, when hydrogen is one point zero zero eight. Thus I use
hydrogen as a basis. Simple, isn't it?"

Harold frowned. "Wait a minute. What's this you're talking
about--_teleportation_? You mean a way of moving matter through space,
just as television moves an image through space?"

"Well, not precisely," said Mildume. "It's more a duplication of
matter. My Mildume beam--really another expression of the quanta or
light energy absorbed by atoms--scans and analyzes matter. The wave
variations are retranslated into form, or formulae, at a distant
point--the receiving point."

Harold lowered one eyebrow. "And this really works?"

"Of course," said Mildume. "Oh, it's still crude. It doesn't work all
the time. It works only along vast distances. I won't announce it
until I perfect it further. Meanwhile I need more money to carry
on and when, through certain relatives, I heard of Mr. Untz's
problem--well, it was simply too much to resist. You see, I've
managed to teleport a couple of frightful monsters from somewhere
out of space. I was wondering what on earth to do with them."

"Where--where are they?" asked Harold.

"In my back yard," said Dr. Mildume.

At that point Mr. Maximilian Untz abruptly reappeared. He smelled of
lotion and he was now dressed in a relatively conservative gabardine
of forest green with a lavender shirt and a black