not believed, with
him, that this ray formed a current, which, like electricity, could be
bent, or twisted from its course? Had she not glowed at the discovery of
the telurium compound--telurox, they called it--which, on burning, would
send out beams that diverted the rays of gravity? And had they not,
poring together over his plans, decided that it would be possible to
alter the movements of the very planets?

All this was in the girl's mind as her eyes raced along the lines of
that incredible letter. It was from Hogarth, Wiley and Malvine, a well
known firm of construction engineers. And there was no doubt that it
actually did offer $25,000!--$25,000 for all rights in the Deflector,
along with Dan's services for a year!

"Who'd have thought it?" enthused the inventor. "Why, Bert Wilcox--you
know, my old college chum--introduced me to Wiley only last Tuesday, and
told about the Deflector. When Wiley asked me to lay the plans before
him, I didn't imagine--"

He rambled on for a minute, then broke short. "But good heavens, Lucy,
let's forget all that! It's not the Deflector I want to think about!
It's you! You, Lucy! Don't you see? Our waiting--it's over now!"

She did indeed see. For three years they had been engaged, almost since
the day when they had met as laboratory assistants here at Columbia
Chemicals. But Dan, saddled with the care of his aged parents, had seen
no way out of a financial morass that might mean further years of
waiting.

Down from her vivid brown eyes and over her lovely face the tears were
streaming as his strong arms gathered about her and she pressed close to
him in confidence and love.

Yet why was it that, even in this moment of their triumph, a gnawing
suspicion crept over her, chilling her joy with a dull clutching
uneasiness?

* * * * *

There was a look of steel-and-granite on Dan's ordinarily cheerful face
as he came striding home. He had only a wan smile for his bride of three
months as she greeted him at the door of their little apartment.

"Don't mind me, Lucy, if I act like a man with his last penny gone," he
explained, after a moment. "It's those damned fellows Hogarth, Wiley and
Malvine. Well, you know I've suspected they weren't all above board."

"What's the trouble now?"

He came close to her, and she noticed how red his face was, and how his
arms trembled.

"They're worse than Hitler, that's what the trouble is! Want to make me
the