him into words. It was difficult, since he could not rid himself of the
conviction that his interlocutors might be utterly alien.

They had no conception of man and doubted man's existence on any other
star. There were plant-people on Venus, ant-people on Andromeda,
six-legged and four-armed beings which were equal parts mineral and
vegetable on Betelguese--but nothing resembling man. "You are evidently
alone of your kind in the cosmos," said his interstellar correspondent.

"And what about you?" cried McIlvaine with unaccustomed heat.

Silence was his only answer, but presently he conceived a mental image
which was remarkable for its vividness. But the image was of nothing he
had ever seen before--of thousands upon thousands of miniature beings,
utterly alien to man; they resembled amphibious insects, with thin,
elongated heads, large eyes, and antennae set upon a scaled, four-legged
body, with rudimentary beetle-like wings. Curiously, they seemed
ageless; he could detect no difference among them--all appeared to be
the same age.

"We are not, but we rejuvenate regularly," said the creature with whom
he corresponded in this strange manner.

Did they have names? McIlvaine wondered.

"I am Guru," said the star's inhabitant. "You are McIlvaine."

And the civilization of their star?

Instantly he saw in his mind's eye vast cities, which rose from beneath
a surface which appeared to bear no vegetation recognizable to any human
eye, in a terrain which seemed to be desert, of monolithic buildings,
which were windowless and had openings only of sufficient size to permit
the free passage of its dwarfed dwellers. Within the buildings was
evidence of a great and old civilization....

* * * * *

"You see, McIlvaine really believed all this. What an imagination the
man had! Of course, the boys at Bixby's gave him a bad time; I don't
know how he stood it, but he did. And he always came back. Richardson
called the story in; he took a special delight in deviling McIlvaine,
and I was sent out to see the old fellow again.

"You couldn't doubt his sincerity. And yet he didn't sound touched."

"But, of course, that part about the insect-like dwellers of the star
comes straight out of Wells, doesn't it?" I put in.

"Wells and scores of others," agreed Harrigan. "Wells was probably the
first writer to suggest insectivorous inhabitants on Mars; his were
considerably larger, though."

"Go on."