said the Very Young Man, “suppose when we were not looking, another fly had—”
“Shut up!” growled the Banker.
“Not so skeptical now, eh, George?” said the Big Business Man.
“Can you catch me another fly?” asked the Chemist. The Very Young Man hastened to do so. “The second demonstration, gentlemen,” said the Chemist, “is less spectacular, but far more pertinent than the one you have just witnessed.” He took the fly by the wings, and prepared another lump of sugar, sprinkling a crushed pill from the other vial upon it.
“When he is small enough I am going to try to put him on the ring, if he will stay still,” said the Chemist.
The Doctor pulled the plate containing the ring forward until it was directly under the light, and every one crowded closer to watch; already the fly was almost too small to be held. The Chemist tried to set it on the ring, but could not; so with his other hand he brushed it lightly into the plate, where it lay, a tiny black speck against the gleaming whiteness of the china.
“Watch it carefully, gentlemen,” he said, as they bent closer.
“It’s gone,” said the Big Business Man.
“No, I can still see it,” said the Doctor. Then he raised the plate closer to his face. “Now it’s gone,” he said.
The Chemist sat down in his chair. “It’s probably still there, only too small for you to see. In a few minutes, if it took a sufficient amount of the drug, it will be small enough to fall between the molecules of the plate.”
“Do you suppose it will find another inhabited universe down there?” asked the Very Young Man.
“Who knows,” smiled the Chemist. “Very possibly it will. But the one we are interested in is here,” he added, touching the ring.
“Is it your intention to take this stuff yourself tonight?” asked the Big Business Man.
“If you will give me your help, I think so, yes. I have made all arrangements. The club has given us this room in absolute privacy for forty-eight hours. Your meals will be served here when you want them, and I am going to ask you, gentlemen, to take turns watching and guarding the ring during that time. Will you do it?”
“I should say we would,” cried the Doctor, and the others nodded assent.
“It is because I wanted you to be convinced of my entire sincerity that I have taken you so thoroughly into my confidence. Are those doors locked?” The Very Young Man locked them.
“Thank you,” said the Chemist, starting to disrobe. In a moment he stood before them attired in a woolen bathing-suit of pure white. Over his shoulders was strapped tightly a narrow leather harness, supporting two silken pockets, one under each armpit. Into each of these he placed one of the vials, first laying four pills from one of them upon the table.
At this point the Banker rose from his chair and selected another in the further corner of the room. He sank into it a crumpled heap and wiped the beads of perspiration from his face with a shaking hand.
“I have every expectation,” said the Chemist, “that this suit and harness will contract in size uniformly with me. If the harness should not, then I shall have to hold the vials in my hand.”
On the table, directly under the light, he spread a large silk handkerchief, upon which he placed the ring. He then produced a teaspoon, which he handed to the Doctor.
“Please listen carefully,” he said, “for perhaps the whole success of my adventure, and my life itself, may depend upon your actions during the next few minutes. You will realize, of course, that when I am still large enough to be visible to you I shall be so small that my voice may be inaudible. Therefore, I want you to know, now, just what to expect.
“When I am something under a foot high, I shall step upon that handkerchief, where you will see my white suit plainly against its black surface. When I become less than an inch high, I shall run over to the ring and stand beside it. When I have diminished to about a quarter of an inch, I shall climb upon it, and, as I get smaller, will follow its surface until I come to the scratch.
“I want you to watch me very closely. I may miscalculate the time and wait until I am too small to climb upon the ring. Or I may fall off. In either case, you will place that spoon beside me and I will climb into it. You will then do your best to help me get on the ring. Is all this quite clear?”
The Doctor nodded assent.
“Very well, watch me as long as I remain visible. If I have an accident, I shall take the other drug and endeavor to return to you at once. This you must expect at any moment during the next forty-eight hours. Under all circumstances, if I am alive, I shall return at the expiration of that time.
“And, gentlemen, let me caution you most solemnly, do not allow that ring to be touched until that length of time has expired. Can I depend on you?”
“Yes,” they answered breathlessly.
“After I have taken the pills,” the Chemist continued, “I shall not speak unless it is absolutely necessary. I do not know what my sensations will be, and I want to follow them as closely as possible.” He then turned out all the lights in the room with the exception of the center electrolier, that shone down directly on the handkerchief and ring.
The Chemist looked about him. “Good-by, gentlemen,” he said, shaking hands all round. “Wish me luck,” and without hesitation he placed the four pills in his mouth and washed them down with a swallow of water.
Silence fell on the group as the Chemist seated himself and covered his face with his hands. For perhaps two minutes the tenseness of the silence was unbroken, save by the heavy breathing of the Banker as he lay huddled in his chair.
“Oh, my God! He is growing smaller!” whispered the Big Business Man in a horrified tone to the Doctor. The Chemist raised his head and smiled at them. Then he stood up, steadying himself against a chair. He was less than four feet high. Steadily he grew smaller before their horrified eyes. Once he made, as if to speak, and the Doctor knelt down beside him. “It’s all right, good-by,” he said in a tiny voice.
Then he stepped upon the handkerchief. The Doctor knelt on the floor beside it, the wooden spoon ready in his hand, while the others, except the Banker, stood behind him. The figure of the Chemist, standing motionless near the edge of the handkerchief, seemed now like a little white wooden toy, hardly more than an inch in height.
Waving his hand and smiling, he suddenly started to walk and then ran swiftly over to the ring. By the time he reached it, somewhat out of breath, he was little more than twice as high as the width of its band. Without pausing, he leaped up, and sat astraddle, leaning over and holding to it tightly with his hands. In another moment he was on his feet, on the upper edge of the ring, walking carefully along its circumference towards the scratch.
The Big Business Man touched the Doctor on the shoulder and tried to smile. “He’s making it,” he whispered. As if in answer the little figure turned and waved its arms. They could just distinguish its white outline against the gold surface underneath.
“I don’t see him,” said the Very Young Man in a scared voice.
“He’s right near the scratch,” answered the Doctor, bending closer. Then, after a moment, “He’s gone.” He rose to his feet. “Good Lord! Why haven’t we a microscope!”
“I never thought of that,” said the Big Business Man, “we could have watched him for a long time yet.”
“Well, he’s gone now,” returned the Doctor, “and there is nothing for us to do but wait.”
“I hope he finds that girl,” sighed the Very Young Man, as he sat chin in hand beside the handkerchief.
CHAPTER 3
AFTER FORTY-EIGHT HOURS
The Banker snored stertorously from