nothing until released in some
form or other, either by accident or design."

"True, but electricity isn't matter. Our old world is matter; I'm
matter, and you're matter. Why don't we bump into things?"

"Our old world is matter, true enough, but for the rest, you're wrong,
Pete, old son. You're _not_ matter, any more. You're something else. In
terms of our own being, you do not exist in your present form. This
world does not exist. And the reverse is just as true."

* * * * *

I stared at him, bewildered.

"What am I, then--a ghost?"

"Nothing of the sort. You're old Pete Grahame, a darned good half-back,
and the world's rottenest scientist. Only you've been passed into
another form of being, through the action of four little quartz bulbs
whose periods of vibrations form a beat--but that's over your head,
Pete, old son, and we'll have time to talk over details when we get
back. Right now, we're in somewhat of a jam." Instinctively, he glanced
at Hope; it was her danger, and not his own, that had brought that
haggard pallor to his face in so short a time.

"That's what I don't understand. What do these people--if you can call
them that--want of us?"

Vic looked down, frowning.

"I'm not sure I'm right," he replied after a moment, "but if I am--they
wish us to kill them. As many as possible.

"When I found myself here, I wandered nearly to the city before I was
molested. When they did appear, and tried to lay hands on me, I warned
them back, and finally shot one of them.

"The effect was magical. They seemed unable to believe the evidence of
their eyes. They rushed me eagerly, each seeming to beg for a bullet.

"I gave them what they wanted, still hoping I could frighten them away.
A great crowd formed around me, and the rabble was sent flying by a
number of the men who seem to hold some office, distinguished by a
jewel-like emblem around their throats. If I read their actions
correctly, they claimed the privilege of death by virtue of their
greater authority.

* * * * *

"Well, I finally decided that my gun did anything but frighten them.
They were angry when I refused to do any more slaughtering, and led me
here. Every once in a while one of the captains would come in and
command me to kill him. I refused, for that's the only trump card I
held.

"When Hope, here, acted like the foolish little kid she is, she was not
even armed, and they