Snader seemed amused. "You are foolish fellow. Silly talk about ransom. You in different time now." "When does this gag stop?" Jeff demanded irritably. "You haven't fooled us. We're still in 1957." "You are? Look around." Jeff looked at the street again. He secretly admitted to himself that these were different trees and houses than he remembered. Even the telephone poles and street lights seemed peculiar, vaguely foreign-looking. It must be an elaborate practical joke. Snader had probably ushered them into one house, then through a tunnel and out another house. "Get in," Snader said curtly. Jeff decided to go along with the hoax or whatever it was. He could see no serious risk. He helped Ann into the back seat and sat beside her. Snader slammed the door and slid into the driver's seat. He started the engine with a roar and they rocketed away from the curb, narrowly missing another car. Jeff yelled, "Easy, man! Look where you're going!" Snader guffawed. "Tonight, you look where you are going." Ann clung to Jeff. "Did you notice the house we came out of?" "What about it?" "It looked as though they were afraid people might try to break in. There were bars at the windows." "Lots of houses are built that way, honey. Let's see, where are we?" He glanced at house numbers. "This is the 800 block. Remember that. And the street--" He peered up at a sign as they whirled around a corner. "The street is Green Thru-Way. I never heard of a street like that." III They were headed back toward what should have been the boulevard. The car zoomed through a cloverleaf turn and up onto a broad freeway. Jeff knew for certain there was no freeway there in 1957--nor in any earlier year. But on the horizon, he could see the familiar dark bulk of the mountains. The whole line of moonlit ridges was the same as always. "Ann," he said slowly, "I think this is for real. Somehow I guess we escaped from 1957. We've been transported in time." She squeezed his arm. "If I'm dreaming, don't wake me! I was scared a minute ago. But now, oh, boy!" "Likewise. But I still wonder what Snader's angle is." He leaned forward and tapped the driver on his meaty shoulder. "You brought us into the future instead of the past, didn't you?" It was hard to know whether Snader was sleepy or just bored, but he shrugged briefly to show there was no reply coming. Then he yawned. Jeff smiled tightly. "I guess we'll find out in good time. Let's sit back and enjoy the strangest ride of our lives." As the limousine swept along through the traffic, there were plenty of big signs for turn-offs, but none gave any hint where they were. The names were unfamiliar. Even the language seemed grotesque. "Rite Channel for Creepers," he read. "Yaw for Torrey Rushway" flared at him from a fork in the freeway. "This can't be the future," Ann said. "This limousine is almost new, but it doesn't even have an automatic gear shift--"