to Babs and me. But when he does, he tries to smile and say that
Alan soon will return. He has been very ill this last week, though he
is better now. He did not tell us that he was working to compound
another supply of the drugs, but we knew it very well.

And his emotion, the strain of it, made him break. He was in bed a
week. We are living in New York, quite near the Museum of the American
Society for Scientific Research. In a room of the biological
department there, the precious fragment of golden quartz lies guarded.
A microscope is over it, and there is never a moment of the day or
night without an alert, keen-eyed watcher peering down.

But nothing has appeared. Neither friend nor foe--nothing. I cannot
say so to Babs, but often I fear that Dr. Kent will suddenly die, and
the secret of his drugs die with him. I hinted once that I would make
a trip into the atom if he would let me, but it excited him so greatly
I had to laugh it off with the assurance that of course Alan will soon
return safely to us. Dr. Kent is an old man now, unnaturally old,
with, it seems, the full weight of eighty years pressing upon him. He
cannot stand this emotion. I think he is despairingly summoning
strength to work upon his drugs, fearful that he will not be equal to
it. Yet more fearful to disclose the secret and unloose so diabolical
a power.

There are nights when with Dr. Kent asleep, Babs and I slip away and
go to the Museum. We dismiss the guard for a time, and in that private
room we sit hand in hand by the microscope to watch. The fragment of
golden quartz lies on its clean white slab with a brilliant light upon
it.

Mysterious little golden rock! What secrets are there, down beyond the
vanishing point in the realm of the infinitely small! Our human
longings go to Alan and to Glora.

But sometimes we are swept by the greater viewpoint. Awed by the
mysteries of nature, we realize how very small and unimportant we are
in the vast scheme of things. We envisage the infinite reaches of
astronomical space overhead. Realms of largeness unfathomable. And at
our feet, everywhere, are myriad entrances into the infinitely small.
With ourselves in between--with our fatuous human consciousness that
we are of some importance to it all!

Truly there are more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamed of in
our philosophy!

INVISIBLE EYES

An invisible eye that can see in the dark and detect the light of a
ship two miles away on