rojectors a dazzling green ray leaped forth as the
switch was closed. There was a crash like all the thunder of the
universe. Before the astonished eyes of the detective, the hole
closed. Not only did it close but the earth piled up until the trucks
were overturned and the green rays blazed in all directions.

"Power off!" roared the doctor.

The switch was opened and the ray died out. Before them was a huge
mound where a moment before had been a hole.

"You see, Carnes," said Dr. Bird with a wan smile. "I made him bore
his own hole, as I promised."

"I saw it, but I don't understand. How did you do it?"

"Magnetism. Rays of the cathode type are deflected from their course
by a magnet. His ray proved unusually susceptible, and I drew it
toward a huge electro-magnet which I improvised. When the magnet was
destroyed, the ray dropped back ... to its original ... direction.
That's the end ... of Saranoff. That is ... I hope ... it is."

Dr. Bird's voice had grown slower and less distinct as he talked. As
he said the last words, he slumped gently to the ground. Carnes sprang
forward with a cry of alarm and bent over him.

"What's the matter, Doctor?" he demanded anxiously, shaking the
scientist. Dr. Bird rallied for a moment.

"Sleep, old dear," he murmured. "Four days--no sleep. Go 'way, I'm ...
going ... to ... sleep...."

[Illustration: Advertisement]

The Exile of Time

PART TWO OF A FOUR-PART NOVEL

_By Ray Cummings_

WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE

[Illustration: Where nothing had been stood a cage.]

[Sidenote: Young lovers of three eras are swept down the torrent of
the sinister cripple Tugh's frightful vengeance.]

"Let me out! Let me out!" came the cry.

"What's that, Larry? Listen!" I said to my companion.

We stopped in the street. We had heard a girl's scream: then her
frantic, muffled words to attract our attention. Then we saw her white
face at the basement window. It was on the night of June 8-9, 1950,
when I was walking with my friend Larry Gregory through Patton Place
in New York City. My name is George Rankin. In a small, deserted house
we found the strange girl; brought her out; took her away in a taxi to
an alienist for examination.

We thought she might be demented--this strangely beautiful girl, in a
long white satin dress with a powdered white wig, and a black beauty
patch on her cheek--for she told us that the deserted house had just a
few minutes before been her house; and t