is no time for jokes," growled Johnston, as Tradmos returned.
Tradmos motioned to something that in the distance looked like
a carriage, but which turned out to be a flying machine. It rose
gracefully and glided over the ground and settled at their feet. It
was large enough to seat a dozen people, and there was a little
glass-windowed compartment at the end in which they could see "the
driver," as he was termed by Tradmos. The mysterious machinery was
hidden in the woodwork overhead and beneath.

"Get in," said the captain, and the door flew open as if of its own
accord. Thorndyke went in first and was followed by the moody American.
"Let up on the ague," jested Thorndyke, nudging his friend with his
elbow; "if you keep on quivering like that you may shake the thing loose
from its moorings and we'd never know what became of us."

Johnston scowled, and the officer, who had overheard the remark, smiled
as he leaned toward the window and gave some directions to the man in
the other compartment.

"You both take it rather coolly," he remarked to Thorndyke. "I took a
man and a woman over this route several years ago and both of them were
in a dead faint; but, in fact, you have nothing to fear. We never have
accidents."

"It is as safe as a balloon, I suppose, and we are at home in them,"
said the Englishman, with just the hint of a swagger in his tone.

"But your balloons are poor, primitive things at best," returned Tradmos
in his soft voice. "They can't be compared to this mode of travel,
though, of course, our machines would not operate in your atmosphere."

"Why not?" impulsively asked the Englishman. "I thought----"

But he did not conclude his remark, for they were rising, and both he
and Johnston leaned apprehensively forward and looked out of one of the
windows. Down below the long lines of people were silently waving their
hats, scarfs and handkerchiefs as the machine swept along over their
heads. As they rose higher the scene below widened like a great circular
fan, and in the delicate roselight, the whole so appealed to Thorndyke's
artistic sense that he ejaculated:

"Glorious! Superb! Transcendent!" and he directed Johnston's attention
to the wonderful pinkish haze which lay over the view toward the west
like a vast diaphanous web of rosy sunbeams.

"You ask why our air-ships would not operate in your atmosphere," said
the captain, showing pleasure at Thorndyke's enthusiasm. "It is simple
enough when you