necessity to
go queekly. A patient I have in Paree, zat ees in zee most creetical
condition!"

"Hold your horses just a minute, Mister. We got a client in the machine
now. Russian diplomat from Moscow to Rio de Janeiro.... Two hundred
seventy dollars and eighty cents, please.... Your turn next. Remember
this is just an experimental service. Regular installations all over the
world in a year.... Ready now. Come on in."

The youth took the money, pressed a button. The door sprang open in the
grill, and the frantic physician leaped through it.

"Lie down on the crystal, face up," the young man ordered. "Hands at
your sides, don't breathe. Ready!"

He manipulated his dials and switches, and pressed another button.

"Why, hello, Eric, old man!" he cried. "That's the lady you were telling
me about? Congratulations!" A bell jangled before him on the panel.
"Just a minute. I've got a call."

He punched the board again. Little bulbs lit and glowed for a second.
The youth turned toward the half-hidden machine, spoke courteously.

"All right, madam. Walk out. Hope you found the transit pleasant."

"But my Violet! My precious Violet!" a shrill female voice came from
the machine. "Sir, what have you done with my darling Violet?"

"I'm sure I don't know, madam. You lost it off your hat?"

"None of your impertinence, sir! I want my dog."

"Ah, a dog. Must have jumped off the crystal. You can have him sent on
for three hundred and--"

"Young man, if any harm comes to my Violet--I'll--I'll--I'll appeal to
the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals!"

"Very good, madam. We appreciate your patronage."

* * * * *

The door flew open again. A very fat woman, puffing angrily, face highly
colored, clothing shimmering with artificial gems, waddled pompously out
of the door through which the frantic French doctor had so recently
vanished. She rolled heavily across the room, and out into the corridor.
Shrill words floated back:

"I'm going to see my lawyer! My precious Violet--"

The sallow youth winked. "And now what can I do for you, Eric?"

"We want to go to Venus, if that ray of yours can put us there."

"To Venus? Impossible. My orders are to use the Express merely between
the sixteen designated stations, at New York, San Francisco, Tokyo,
London, Paris--"

"See here, Charley," with a cautious glance toward the door, Eric held
up the silver flask. "For old time's sake, and for