He smiled down at her. "That is not a commonplace everyday occurrence to us, I assure you. The difference is that in this world of ours we can understand--or at least explain--these things as being scientific. And so they have not the terror of the supernatural." Mary was calmer now. She returned his smile. "I realize that; or at least I am trying to realize it." What a level-headed girl was this! I touched her arm. "You are very wonderful--" Alten brushed me away. "Let's try and reduce it to rationality. The cage was--is, I should say, since of course it still exists--that cage is a Time-traveling vehicle. It is traveling back and forth through Time, operated by a Robot. Call it that. A pseudo-human monster fashioned of metal in the guise of a man." Even Alten had to force himself to speak calmly, as he gazed from one to the other of us. "It came, no doubt from some future age, where half-human mechanisms are common, and Time-traveling is known. That cage probably does not travel in Space, but only in Time. In the future--somewhere--the Space of that house on Patton Place may be the laboratory of a famous scientist. And in the past--in the year 1777--that same Space was the garden of Mistress Atwood's home. So much is obvious. But why--" "Why," Larry burst out, "did that iron monster stop in 1777 and abduct this girl?" "And why," I intercepted, "did it stop here in 1935?" I gazed at Mary. "And it told you it would return?" "Yes." * * * * * Alten was pondering. "There must be some connection, of course.... Mistress Mary, had you never seen this cage before?" "No." "Nor anything like it? Was anything like that known to your Time?" "No. Oh, I cannot truly say that. Some people believe in phantoms, omens and witchcraft. There was in Salem, in the Massachusetts Colony, not so many years ago--" "I don't mean that. I mean Time-traveling." "There were soothsayers and fortune-tellers, and necromancers with crystals to gaze into the future." "We still have them," Alten smiled. "You see, we don't know much more than you do about this thing." I said, "Did you have any enemy? Anyone who wished you harm?" She thought a moment. "No--yes, there was one." She shuddered at the memory. "A man--a cripple--a horribly repulsive man of about one score and ten years. He lives down near the Battery." She paused. "Tell us about him," Larry urged. She nodded. "But what could he have to do with this? He is horribly deformed. Thin, bent legs, a body like a cask and a bulging forehead with goggling eyes. My Lord Howe's officers say he is very intelligent and very learned. Loyal to the King, too. There was a munitions plot in the Bermudas, and this cripple and Lord Howe were concerned in it. But Father likes the fellow and says that in reality he wishes our cause well. He is rich.