e such a supposition," he said, quietly,
with a last thoughtful glance at that witches' caldron below.

"Then let us think of pleasanter things. You are my guest of honor,
sir--America's foremost scientist, though she may never realize it,"
with a piping chuckle. "To-night there will be a great banquet in your
honor. Meanwhile, suppose I show you to your quarters."

Nettled, fuming, though outwardly calm, Kendrick permitted himself to
be escorted from the laboratory to an ornate apartment on one of the
lower floors.

There Cor left him, with the polite hint that he would find plenty of
attendants handy should he require anything.

Alone now, in the midst of this vast, nightmarish metropolis, he paced
back and forth, back and forth--knowing the hideous fate that
threatened the world but powerless to issue one word of warning, much
less avert it.

* * * * *

Kendrick was still thinking and brooding along these lines when he saw
the door of the apartment swiftly open and close again.

Someone had entered, invisible!

Backing away, he waited, tense. Then, suddenly, his visitor
materialized. With a gasp, he saw standing before him a beautiful
girl.

She was a young woman, rather, in her early twenties. Not one of these
pigmies of the disc either, but a tall, slender creature of his own
world.

Her hair was dark, modishly bobbed. Her eyes were a deep, clear brown,
her skin a warm olive. And she was dressed as though she had just
stepped off Fifth Avenue--which indeed she had, not so long ago, as
he was soon to learn.

"I hope I haven't startled you too much, Mr. Kendrick," she said, in a
rich, husky murmur, "but--well, there wasn't any other way."

"Oh, I guess I'll get over it," he replied with a smile. "But you have
the advantage of me, since you know my name."

Hers was Marjorie Blake, she told him then.

"Not the daughter of Henderson Blake?" he gasped.

"Yes," with a tremor, "his only daughter."

Whereupon Kendrick knew the solution of a mystery that had baffled the
police for weeks. The newspapers had been full of it at the time. This
beautiful girl, whose father was one of America's richest men and
president of its largest bank, had disappeared as though the earth had
swallowed her. She had left their summer estate at Great Neck, Long
Island, on a bright June morning, bound for New York on a shopping
tour--and had simply vanished.

* * * *