instant was turned to me. He was now no more than three or
four times my own height. He scrambled against the valley cliff-wall
as though trying to find a foothold to climb up it. He went a little
way, but fell back.

Near me, Alan and old Dr. Kent suddenly appeared. I was larger. They
flung themselves at my knees. Alan gasped:

"You, George! You got Babs?"

"Yes--Babs is around somewhere! Stay down here! Don't lose her in
size! Stay small! Search and--"

"But George--"

"I'll tackle Polter. I've taken--God, I don't know how much I've taken
of the drug!"

They were shrinking down by my boot-tops. Alan shouted suddenly,
"There's Babs! Thank God, there's Babs!"

She was too small; I could not see her, nor even hear her, though she
must have been calling to them. Alan again screamed up at me with his
little voice:

"She's here, George! You--go on and get Polter! I can't overtake you
you--haven't enough of the drug!" His tiny voice was fading away. "Go
on and get him, George! This time--get him--"

* * * * *

I swung with a staggering step around to face the open valley. It was
shrunken now to barely half a mile of width. Its smooth walls rose
some two or three thousand feet to an upper circular horizon with
murky distance overhead. Polter stood across from me. He had tried to
climb out but could not. He saw me and came lurching. We were a
quarter of a mile from each other. I ran forward through a shifting
scene of shrinking rock walls and crawling, contracting ground.
Quarter of a mile? It seemed hardly more than a score of running
strides before Polter loomed close ahead of me. He was still nearly
twice my size. I stooped, seized a loose boulder, and flung it. I
missed his face, but, as his hand went up carrying a bared
knife-blade, by fortunate chance the stone struck his wrist. The knife
dropped to the rocks. He stooped to recover it, but I was upon him. As
I felt his huge arms go around me, half lifting me, my foot struck the
knife. But in an instant it was swept down into smallness beneath us
as we expanded above it.

Both of us were unarmed in this combat of size. I was a half-grown
youth in Polter's first grip upon me. I heard his panting words,
grimly triumphant:

"This--George Randolph, I haf been--waiting for so many many years!
The hunchback--takes his revenge--now--"

He lifted me. His great arms were horribly powerful, but I could feel
them dwindling. I was en