of questions and answers.
An hour? The words have no meaning. They were traveling through Time.
Years were minutes--the words meaning nothing save how they impressed
the vehicle's human occupants. To them all it was an interval of
mutual distrust which was gradually changing into friendship. Larry
found the two strangers singularly direct; singularly forceful in
quiet, calm fashion; singularly keen of perception. They had not meant
to capture him. The encounter had startled them, and Larry's shouts
would have brought others upon the scene.

Almost at once they knew Larry was no enemy, and told him so. And in a
moment Larry was pouring out all that had happened to him; and to
Alten and Mary Atwood and me. This strange thing! But to Larry now,
telling it to these strange new companions, it abruptly seemed not
fantastic, but only sinister. The Robot, an enemy, had captured Mary
Atwood and me, and whirled us off in the other--the larger--cage.

And in this smaller cage Larry was with friends--for he suddenly found
their purpose the same as his! They were chasing this other
Time-traveler, with its semi-human, mechanical operator!

The young man said, "You explain to him, Tina. I will watch."

He was a slim, pale fellow, handsome in a queer, tight-lipped,
stern-faced fashion. His close-fitting black silk jacket had a white
neck ruching and white cuffs; he wore a wide white-silk belt, snug
black-silk knee-length trousers and black stockings.

And the girl was similarly dressed. Her black hair was braided and
coiled upon her head, and ornaments dangled from her ears. Over her
black blouse was a brocaded network jacket; her white belt,
compressing her slim waist, dangled with tassels; and there were other
tassels on the garters at the knees of her trousers.

She was a pale-faced, beautiful girl, with black brows arching in a
thin line, with purple-black eyes like somber pools. She was no more
than five feet tall, and slim and frail. But, like her companion,
there was about her a queer aspect of calm, quiet power and force of
personality--physical vitality merged with an intellect keenly sharp.

She sat with Larry on a little metal bench, listening, almost without
interruption, to his explanation. And then, succinctly she gave her
own. The young man, Harl, sat at his instruments, with his gaze
searching for the other cage, five hundred feet away in Space, but in
Time unknown.

And outside the shining bars Larry could va