nt you to see it now."

I had no chance to ask him what he meant by this remark, for he walked
rapidly from the laboratory and I perforce followed him. He led the way
to the patch of lighted ground behind the building where the riveting
machine was still beating out its monotonous cacaphony and paused by the
first of a series of huge reflectors, which were arranged in a circle.

"Here is the start of the thing," he said. "There are two hundred and
fifty of these reflectors arranged in a circle four hundred yards in
diameter. Each of them is an opened parabola of such spread that their
beams will cover an area ten yards in diameter at fifty miles above the
earth. If my calculations are correct they should penetrate through the
layer at an average speed of fifteen miles per hour per unit, and by two
o'clock to-morrow afternoon, the road to space should be open."

"What is your power?" I asked.

"Nothing but a concentration of infra-red rays. The heaviside layer, as
you doubtless know, is a liquid and, I think, an organic liquid. If I am
right in that thought, the infra-red will cut through it like a knife
through cheese."

"If it is a liquid, how will you prevent it from flowing back into the
hole you have opened?" I asked.

"When the current is first turned on, each reflector will bear on the
same point. Notice that they are moveable. They are arranged so that
they move together. As soon as the first hole is bored through, they
will move by clockwork, extending the opening until each points
vertically upward and the hole is four hundred yards in diameter. I am
positive that there will be no rapid flow even after the current is
turned off, for I believe that the liquid is about as mobile as
petroleum jelley. Should it close, however, it would take only a couple
of hours to open it again to allow the space flyer to return."

"What space flyer?" I demanded quickly.

"The one we are going to be on, First Mortgage," he replied with a
slight chuckle.

* * * * *

"We?" I cried, aghast.

"Certainly. We. You and I. You didn't think I was going to send you
alone, did you?"

"I didn't know that anyone was going."

"Of course. Someone has to go; otherwise, how could I prove my point? I
might cut through a hundred holes and yet these stiff-necked old
fossils, seeing nothing, would not believe. No, First Mortgage, when
those arcs start working to-morrow, you and I will be in a Hadley spac