"Come!" he called, beckoning to the huddled quartet at the other side of the room. "Come, Gilhooly, Meigs, Popham, and Markham—come, look down upon the scene of your feverish activities. You were plutocrats there, more powerful than kings! Here you are no more than shoulder high with me, and yon muddled thief on the floor! You have been snatched from the scene of your pernicious labors—exiled into planetary space where you will be powerless to work further evil. I have not lived in vain; for this, this is the triumph of my career." Slowly Meigs disentangled himself from the mute group by the opposite wall and crept on all fours to the threshold that overlooked the void and the greenish star. He recoiled with a yell; then, maddened by what he had seen, he leaped erect and tried to hurl himself out into space. "Fool!" cried the professor, laying hold of him and struggling to keep him back. "Would you become a satellite of this twenty-by-thirty planet? We are beyond the atmosphere of the earth—look! See the four packets of loot and the thief’s revolver." He pointed through the door and the bulging handkerchiefs and my six-shooter were abreast of us, hanging in space, turning slowly, weirdly—a sight to upset the strongest mind. Gilhooly jumped forward, gave vent to a maniacal laugh, then crumpled down on the floor. "Bid up for the G.H.&D.," he mumbled, "bid to the limit! I must have that road—I _will_ have it." "Brace up, Meigs!" said the professor sharply, pulling the key from the outer side of the lock, slamming the door, fastening it, and putting the key in his pocket. "Take care of Gilhooly, man! His mind falters! Heavens, are you all mad? Are your keen minds, unshaken in the contemplation of vast deals for the enslavement of the poor, so quick to break? I had thought better of you than this!" Meigs, white as the spotless linen that covered his breast, advanced upon the professor. He tried to speak, but without success. At last, with a supreme effort, the words came: "Madman, what have you done?" "That is better," returned the professor, smiling as he looked at Meigs and noted how Markham and Popham ranged themselves at his side; "much better. You were engaged in plots back there on the earth, and the success of those plots would have proved a great calamity. I have saved the world from the calamity!" "Your—your castle has risen from the earth?" asked Meigs. "It has fallen off the earth. As you and I and the others happened to be inside, we fell with it!" Sudden rage convulsed Meigs. He crouched downward, his eyes ablaze and his fingers working convulsively. "Scoundrel!" he screamed, and launched himself at the professor’s throat like a tiger. *CHAPTER IV.* *THE PLUTOCRATS RECONCILED.* Looking back now at that dreadful hour when the realization of our awful predicament burst upon us, I wonder that I preserved my own equilibrium.