The door refused to disappear until he pushed it shut. Then it obeyed
its switch with the same promptness.

He went back across the room, returned with one of McAllen's fishing
poles, and edged its tip tentatively out through the door. He wouldn't
have been surprised if the tip had disintegrated in that instant. But
nothing at all occurred. He dug about with the pole in the loose earth
beyond the doorsill, then drew it back. The breeze was flowing freely
past him; a few grains of soil blew over the sill and into the room.
The door seemed to be concealing no grisly tricks and looked to be
safe enough.

Barney stepped out on the sill, moved on a few hesitant steps, stood
looking about. He had a better view of the valley here--and the better
view told him immediately that he was not in the Canadian Rockies. At
least, Canada, to his knowledge, had no desert. And, on the left, this
valley came to an end perhaps a little more than a mile away from the
cabin, its wooded slopes flowing steeply down to a landscape which was
dull rust-red--flat sand stretches alternating with worn rock
escarpments, until the desert's rim rose toward and touched the hazy
white sky. Not so very different from--

Barney's eyes widened suddenly. Could he be in the Sierras--perhaps
not more than three or four hours' drive from Los Angeles?

Three or four hours' drive if he'd had a car, or course. But even so--

He stared around, puzzled. There were no signs of a human being, of
human habitation. But somebody else must be here. Somebody to keep
guard on him. Otherwise there was nothing to stop him from walking
away from this place--though it might very well be a long,
uncomfortable hike to any civilized spot.

Even if this did turn out to be the Himalayas, or some equally remote
area, there must be hill tribes about if one went far enough--there
should even be an occasional airplane passing overhead.

Barney stood just outside the door, frowning, pondering the situation
again, searching for the catch in it. McAllen and his friends,
whatever else they might be, weren't stupid. There was something
involved here that he hadn't become aware of yet.

Almost without thought then, he turned up his head, squinting at the
bright hazy sky above him--

And saw IT.

His breath sucked in and burst from his lungs in a half-strangled,
terrified squawk as he staggered backward into the cabin, slammed the
door shut, then spun around and began slapping frant