It was just as well that the ex-magnates could not comprehend what was going on between the word-boxes. The utilitarian views of the king, as exemplified in Gilhooly’s case, would have jarred somewhat on their conceit and self-esteem. I noticed that a gleam of hope crossed Quinn’s face when Olox spoke of a possible failure of the king’s plan of conquest through lack of the sinews of war. But the hope died away almost instantly when Quinn reflected, as I did, that the monarch was as unscrupulous as he was resourceful. No further conversation was indulged in. The royal troops executed an about face and returned to the capital, convoying our reunited party of aliens. As we drew up in the square the two glittering soldiers appeared in the turrets and sounded a call that drew the king to the balcony. His majesty listened to the report of Olox with a beaming face, but his smiles fled when he learned how the traction interests of the realm were threatened by Gilhooly’s returning sanity. While this momentous question was still up for debate, Meigs plucked at the professor’s sleeve. "Tell the king, professor," said he, his eyes downcast, "that I see the error of my way and frankly acknowledge it. If I am ever so fortunate as to get back to Earth I shall be a reformer. Please ask the king when I can have my clothes." And this was Meigs! Had the heavens fallen I could not have been more astounded. "Tell him the same for me," spoke Hannibal Markham. "Make it even stronger, if you will. I have not been starved into submission—I should have withstood such a siege to the death—but the change has been wrought here." He struck a hand against his heart. "And ask him, professor," added Markham plaintively, "to have my wants supplied immediately from the palace kitchens." "Allow me to join my honorable friends in this free announcement of a change of heart," chimed in Augustus Popham. "Look at my hands!" He held his hands out to us and we found them calloused and scarred. "I can’t go back to those mole burrows!" he supplemented. Professor Quinn showed no signs of amazement. After grasping the palm of each ex-magnate, he fairly electrified his word-box with the supplications of the exiles. "Are these acknowledgments freely made and do they come from contrite hearts," said the king, "or do they merely cloak a desire to escape further privation at the expense of truth?" The professor indignantly repelled the insinuation. When he had finished his vigorous remarks, I stepped to the front and made a complete confession of my designs on the Bolla and the imperial exchequer. Quinn tried to stop me, but I would suffer no interference. "Are you aware," said the king gravely, "that _lèse majesté_, felony, and half a dozen other capital crimes are mixed up in your confession?" "Am I less courageous than an ex-trust magnate?" cried I warmly.