"But I want to." To me it was a miracle that she could call so lightly and hold that note of lugubrious laughter in her voice. "I'm hungry. Didn't you think of that? And frightened. Take me out." He was sitting down! "You remind me that I am tired, Babs. And hungry, also. I haf a little food. You shall come out for just a short time." "Thank you. Take me carefully." Our tilted cage was near the ground as he seated himself. But it was still too far for me to jump. I murmured, "Babs it's not close enough to the ground." "Wait, George, I'll fix that. You hide! If he looks in he'll see you." I scrambled back to my hiding place. Polter's huge fingers were fumbling at our bars. The little door sprang open. "Come, Babs." He held the cupped bowl of his hand to the doorway. "Come out." "No!" she called. "It is too far down!" "Come. That iss foolish." "No! I'm afraid. Put the cage on the ground." "Babs!" His finger and thumb came reaching in to seize her, but she avoided them. "Dr. Polter! Don't! You'll crush me!" "Then come out on my hand." He seemed annoyed. I had scrambled back to the doorway; I knew he couldn't see me so long as the cage remained strapped to his shirt front. I whispered, "I can make it, Babs!" Polter was apparently on one elbow now, half turned to one side. From our cage, the sloping gleaming white surface of his stiff glossy shirt bosom went down a steep incline. His belt was down there, and the outward bulging curve of his lap--a spreading surface where I could land like a scuttling insect, unobserved, if only Babs could hold his attention. I whispered vehemently, "Try it! Go out! Leave me--keep talking to him!" She called instantly, "All right, then. Bring your hand! Closer! Carefully! It seems so high up here!" She swung herself into his palm, and flung her arms about the great pillar of his crooked finger. The bowl of his hand moved slowly away. I heard her faint voice, and his overhead rumble. I chanced it! I didn't know his exact position or which way he was looking. Again I heard Bab's voice. "Careful, Dr. Polter. Don't let me fall!" "Yes, little bird." I let myself down from the tilted doorway, hung by my hand and dropped. I struck the ramp-like yielding surface of his shirt bosom. I slid, tumbling, scrambling, and landed softly in the huge folds of his trouser fabric. I was unhurt. The width of his belt, high as my body, was near me. I shrank against it. I found I could cling to its upper edge.