y in unequal amounts that I expect to reach the desired
size."

"There's one point that you do not mention," said the Doctor. "Those
vials and their contents will have to change size as you do. How are you
going to manage that?"

"By experimentation I have found," answered the Chemist, "that any
object held in close physical contact with the living body being
contracted is contracted itself at an equal rate. I believe that my
clothes will be affected also. These vials I will carry strapped under
my armpits."

"Suppose you should die, or be killed, would the contraction cease?"
asked the Doctor.

"Yes, almost immediately," replied the Chemist. "Apparently, though I am
acting through the subconscious mind while its power is held in
abeyance, when this power is permanently withdrawn by death, the drug no
longer affects the individual cells. The contraction or expansion ceases
almost at once."

The Chemist cleared a space before him on the table. "In a well-managed
club like this," he said, "there should be no flies, but I see several
around. Do you suppose we can catch one of them?"

"I can," said the Very Young Man, and forthwith he did.

The Chemist moistened a lump of sugar and laid it on the table before
him. Then, selecting one of the smallest of the pills, he ground it to
powder with the back of a spoon and sprinkled this powder on the sugar.

"Will you give me the fly, please?"

The Very Young Man gingerly did so. The Chemist held the insect by its
wings over the sugar. "Will someone lend me one of his shoes?"

The Very Young Man hastily slipped off a dancing pump.

"Thank you," said the Chemist, placing it on the table with a quizzical
smile.

The rest of the company rose from their chairs and gathered around,
watching with interested faces what was about to happen.

"I hope he is hungry," remarked the Chemist, and placed the fly gently
down on the sugar, still holding it by the wings. The insect, after a
moment, ate a little.

Silence fell upon the group as each watched intently. For a few moments
nothing happened. Then, almost imperceptibly at first, the fly became
larger. In another minute it was the size of a large horse-fly,
struggling to release its wings from the Chemist's grasp. A minute more
and it was the size of a beetle. No one spoke. The Banker moistened his
lips, drained his glass hurriedly and moved slightly farther away. Still
the insect grew; now it was the size of a small chicken