The professor then asked me for an account of what had happened during my flight toward Baigol with the exchequer. Gilhooly was not able to help me much in the recital, as the most important part of our adventures was a perfect blank to him. I did not try to conceal anything from Quinn. I painted my designs on the king’s money as black as they really were and he smiled as he listened. "When did Mr. Gilhooly lay hands on the Bolla?" Quinn asked. "How do you know that he did?" I returned. "I am very sure that he did," was the quiet reply. Thereupon I told the professor how I had thrown the stone from the heap of gold and Gilhooly had picked it up, his reason returning shortly afterward. Quinn wagged his head sagely and mumbled something I could not understand, but which had to do with the ridiculous pretensions of the Bolla. I feared then for the mind of this great and good man. Was he breaking under the tremendous responsibility incurred by removing the plutocrats from Earth? A chill of apprehension shot to my heart. I was about to say something of a soothing nature to my patron—for I certainly looked upon him as such—when Olox and his Gaddbaizets appeared. Key seven of the high chief’s word-box titillated with relief the instant the officer got his eye on Gilhooly. The exuberance faded into a note of foreboding and the foreboding into the words: "Where is the king’s treasure house? If that has not been recovered, calamity threatens our expedition to the planet Terra!" "The treasure house has been broken and wrecked," replied the professor, "but my friends, Mr. Gilhooly and Mr. Munn, are returning the gold to his majesty in their coats." "Why should Mr. Gilhooly steal the gold and then help to return it?" came incredulously from Olox. "Is it simply a vagary of his unbalanced mind?" "I am pleased to say, Chief Olox, that his mind is no longer unbalanced," returned the professor, warning me to silence with a look as I was about to operate my talking machine. "Mr. Gilhooly is now as sane as you or I." Olox looked worried. "I declare," said he, "I don’t know how the president and board of directors of the Interplanetary will regard this unexpected occurrence." "They should feel overjoyed at the unclouding of so bright a mind as Mr. Gilhooly’s." "But what if it interferes with the traffic of the road? They have been running limited trains on a schedule heretofore beyond their wildest dreams. His majesty farmed out the concession to the management of the road for ninety-nine years, on a cash basis. If the traction power proves unavailable, a demand will be made on the king for a return of the money—and just now any depletion of the imperial coffers might prove fatal to the projected expedition."