lks of hair.

The figure of Babs came through the cage doorway. Blessed normality! The
same slim little Babs who always stood, since we were both matured, with
her head about level with my shoulders.

The latticed door swung shut with a reverberating metallic clank. Babs
stood tense, clinging to the wall railing. I heard the blurred rumble of
Polter's voice.

"Hold tightly, my little Babs!"

The room lurched; went upward and sidewise with a wild dizzying swoop.
Babs clung to the rail and I was wedged prone under the couch. Then the
movement stopped; there was a jolting, rocking, and outside I heard the
clank of metal. Polter was fastening the chains of the cage to his
chest.

A white glow now came through the bars. It was starlight reflecting from
Polter's shirt bosom. An abyss of distance was outside. I could see
nothing but the white glow.

Momentarily there was very little movement in the room. Only the
rhythmic sway of Polter's breathing and an occasional jolt as he shifted
his position. The floor was tilted at a sharp angle. Babs came toward
the couch, pulling herself along the wall railing.

I called softly, "Babs!"

She stopped. I called again, "Babs! Don't cry out! It's George!
Here--stand still!"

She gave a little cry. "George--where are you? I don't--"

I slid out from my concealment and stood up, holding to the railing.

Blessed normality of size! She cried again, "George! You! How did you
get here?"

She edged along the railing, a step or two down the tilting floor, then
released her hold and flung herself into my waiting arms.

"I think we are landing. Hold on to the railing, George. When the room
moves it goes with a rush."

Babs laughed softly. It must have seemed to her, after being alone in
here, that now our plight was far less desperate. She had told me how
she was captured. A man accosted her on the Terrace, saying he wanted to
speak to her about Alan. Then a weapon threatened her. Amid all those
people she was held up in old-fashioned style, hurried to a taxicar and
whirled away.

She was saying now, "When Polter moves, it is dizzying. You'll see."

"I have already, Babs. Heavens, what a swoop!"

The room was more level now. We carefully drew ourselves to the front
lattice. Polter was standing, and we had the white sheen from his shirt
front. A sheer drop was outside the bars, but looking down I could see
the outlines of his body with the huge spread of the boat's cockpit
und