tight to my finger. Here, I
crook the little one. Fling your arms around it."

With a swoop his hand took her aloft and away. Then we saw her, twenty
feet or so in the air, still on his hand as he held it near his face.

"Now we haf a little talk, Babs. When we get to the island, I put you
back in your cage."

I had a sudden flash of realization. There was something I could do. I
know now my judgment was bad. I recall it struck me that Alan would want
to do it also. And, perhaps, even Glora. But that wouldn't work. My
chances, however desperate, were better alone. Glora and Alan--in our
present size--could doubtless disembark safely. Glora knew the layout
of the island. And she could follow Polter.

Alan and Glora were standing beside me peering over that billowing
cushion spread toward the distant giant palm with Babs standing upon it.
I gripped Alan's shoulder.

"See here, Alan," I whispered vehemently: "What ever happens, we must
follow Polter. Glora knows the way. Some opportunity will come to get
large without being discovered. Then we'll rush Polter!"

Alan's white face turned to me. "Yes, that's what we're planning. But
George, here on this boat--"

"Of course not. Can't do it here. Tell Glora, to be sure to follow
Polter. Whatever happens, you'll think of nothing else: you won't will
you?"

"George, what--"

"We've got to make some opportunity." I was trembling inside, fearful
that Alan would be suspicious of me. Yet I had to make sure that he and
Glora would stay as close to Polter as possible.

"All right," Alan agreed. "Listen to them."

Polter was talking to Babs. But I didn't hear the words I moved a trifle
away. Rash decision! I hardly decided anything. There was only the
vision of Babs before me and my love for her. My desperate need of doing
something; getting to her, seeing her, being with her. I wanted her near
my own size again as though the blessed normality of that would
rationalize and lessen her danger. If only I had been less rash! If only
back there in that tunnel I had stopped to see what it was my foot
kicked against!

I slid away. Alan and Glora did not notice it; they were whispering
together and gazing over the cushion at Babs. In the shadow of the
cushion I moved some ten feet. On the undulating top of the cushion the
little golden cage stood with its lattice door open. It was a few feet
from my face.

I fumbled at my belt for the diminishing vial. I found one pellet left