d. Then to the professor: "It's all
hazy. There are no markings--"

"Clouds," said the other. "The goddess is veiled; Venus is blanketed
in clouds. What lies underneath we may never know, but we do know that
of all the planets this is most like the earth; most probably is an
inhabited world. Its size, its density, your weight if you were
there--and the temperature under the sun's rays about double that of
ours. Still, the cloud envelope would shield it."

McGuire was fascinated, and his thoughts raced wildly in speculation
of what might be transpiring before his eyes. People, living in that
tropical world; living and going through their daily routine under
that cloud-filled sky where the sun was never seen. The margin of
light that made the clear shape of a half-moon marked their daylight
and dark; there was one small dot of light forming just beyond that
margin. It penetrated the dark side. And it grew, as he watched, to a
bright patch.

"What is that?" he inquired abstractedly--his thoughts were still
filled with those beings of his imagination. "There is a light that
extends into the dark part. It is spreading--"

* * * * *

He found himself thrust roughly aside as Professor Sykes applied a
more understanding eye to the instrument.

The professor whirled abruptly to his assistant. "Phone Professor
Giles," he said sharply; "he is working on the reflector. Tell him to
get a photograph of Venus at once; the cloud envelope is broken." He
returned hurriedly to his observations. One hand sketched on a waiting
pad.

"Markings!" he said exultantly. "If it would only hold!... There, it
is closing ... gone...."

His hand was quiet now upon the paper, but where he had marked was a
crude sketch of what might have been an island. It was "L" shaped;
sharply bent.

"Whew!" breathed Professor Sykes and looked up for a moment. "Now that
was interesting."

"You saw through?" asked McGuire eagerly. "Glimpsed the surface?--an
island?"

The scientist's face relaxed. "Don't jump to conclusions," he told the
aviator: "we are not ready to make a geography of Venus quite yet. But
we shall know that mark if we ever see it again. I hardly think they
had time to get a picture.

* * * * *

"And now there is only a matter of three hours for observation: I must
watch every minute. Stay here if you wish. But," he added, "don't let
your imagination run wild. Some erupti