continued standing. I could envisage his sardonic grin. Babs
was calling:

"Father, dear! Father!"

From over us came Polter's rumble. "She iss glad to see you, Kent. I
haf her here, safe. You always knew I would nefer be satisfied until I
had my little Babs? Well, now I haf her. Can you hear me?"

A sudden desperate calmness fell on Babs. She called evenly, "Yes, I
hear you. Father, do not anger him. Do not rebel; do what he commands.
Dr. Polter, will you let me be with my father? After all these years,
let me be with him, just for a little while. In his size--normal."

"Hah! My Babs iss scheming."

"No! I want to talk to him, after so long. These years when I thought
he was dead."

"Scheming. You think, my little Babs, that he has the drugs? I am not
so much a fool. He makes them. He can do that, and the last secret
reactions only he can perform. He iss stubborn. Never would he tell me
that one reaction. But he makes no drugs complete, only when I am
here."

"No, Dr. Polter! I want only to be with him."

The old man's broken voice floated up to us. "You will not harm her,
Polter?"

"No. Fear nothing. But you no longer rebel?"

"I will do what you tell me." The tones carried hopeless resignation,
years of being beaten down, rebelling--but now this last blow
vanquished him. Then he spoke again, with a sudden strange fire.

"Even for the life of my daughter, I will not make your drugs, Polter,
if you mean to harm our Earth."

The golden cage room swooped as Polter sat down. "Hah! Now we bargain.
What do you care what I do to your world? You never will see it again.
I can lie to you. My plans--"

"I do care."

"Well, I will tell you, Kent. I am good natured now. Why should I not
be, with my dear little Babs? I tell you. I am done with the Earth
world. It iss so much nicer here. My friends, they haf a good time
always. We like this little atom realm. I am going out once more. I
must hide the little piece of golden quartz so no harm will come to
it."

* * * * *

Polter was evidently in a high good humor. His voice fell to an
intimate tone of comradeship; but still I could not mistake the irony
of it.

"You listen to me, Kent. There was a time, years ago, when we were
good friends. You liked your young assistant, the hunchback Polter.
Iss it not so? Then why should we quarrel now? I am gifing up the
Earth world. I wanted of it only the little Babs.... You look at me so