Left alone in his laboratory, Dr. Kent began his preparations for making a fresh supply of the drugs. This room, with two smaller ones adjoining, was at once his workshop and his prison. He stood at his shelves, selecting the basic chemicals. He could not complete the final compounds. The catalyst which was necessary to the final reaction would be brought to him by Polter. How long he worked there with his thoughts in a whirl at seeing Babs, he did not know. His movements were automatic; he had done all this so many times before. His mind was confused, and he was trembling from head to foot, an old, queerly, unnaturally old man now--unnerved. His shaking fingers could hardly hold the test tubes. His thoughts were flying. Babs was here, come down from the world above. It was disaster--the thing he had feared all these years. He suddenly heard a voice. "Father!" And again: "Father!" A tiny voice, down by his shoe-tops. Two small figures were there on the floor beside him. They were both panting, winded by running. They were enlarging; they had come from a smaller size. It was Alan and Glora, who had followed Polter from the boat, diminished again, and come running through the tiny crack under the metal door of the laboratory. They grew to a foot in size, down by Dr. Kent's legs. He was too unnerved; he sat in a chair while Alan swiftly told him what had happened. Babs was in the golden cage. Dr. Kent knew that; but none of them knew what had happened to me. "We must make you small, Father. We have the drugs, here with us." "Yes! Yes, Alan. How much have you? Show me. Oh, my boy, that you are here--and Babs--" "Don't you worry, we'll get away from him." * * * * * Glora and Alan had almost reached Dr. Kent's size before their excited fingers could get out the vials. They took some of the diminishing drug to check their growth. Alan handed his father a black vial. "Yes, lad--" "No! Wait, Father! That's the wrong drug. This other--" Dr. Kent had opened the vial. His trembling hand spilled some of the pellets, but none of them noticed it. "Father, dear, this one." Alan held an opalescent vial. "This one." Glora said abruptly, "Listen! Is that someone coming?" They thought they heard approaching footsteps. A moment passed, but no one came into the room. "Hurry," urged Glora. "It is nothing. We wait too long." "My boy--Alan, dear, after all these years--" They were about to take the diminishing drug. From across the room there came a very queer sound. A scuttling, scratching, and the drone of wings. "Father, good God--look!" Over by the wall, a giant fly was running across the floor. It was growing larger! At Dr. Kent's feet the pellets he had dropped were crushed by his footsteps and strewn on the floor. A fly had eaten of the sweetish powder. The enlarging drug was loose! A few drops of water lay mingled with the drug on the floor. And from the water nameless hideous things were rising!