"We must go, Sert," Larry told him simply. "Behind us we left friends, loved ones. It is best that we should return to the Twentieth Century. You others, I suppose, will follow." He spoke to the _franc-tireur_. But the swaggering horseman shook his head, smiled, his teeth gleaming beneath his waxed mustache. "Not I, _mon vieux_! This is a world to my liking. Besides, are there not legends on earth of troops of fighting men who disappeared strangely? There are none who returned. I think me this is a natural thing. This new world needs new blood, fighting blood, strong men. And anyway"--he twisted his mustache roguishly--"did you notice those Amazon maidens? Sturdy baggages, but--_aaah, mon cher_, ravissante!" "Perhaps you're right," acknowledged Larry. And for the last time he gave his hand to Sert. "This is a one-way passage, my friend. We go back to our own time, but--" "Yes, Larry Wilson?" Sandra answered for both of them. "What Larry means to say is--if the occasion ever arises when you should need us, do not hesitate to send for us. Yours is the means of bringing us to your world. And we'll always be ready and waiting." She paused a moment, then blushed. "It shouldn't be hard to find us," she ventured. "Because I think that we are going to be together--from now on. Isn't that right, Larry?" "You forgot," said Larry, "the 'darling' part." He led her into the Time-warp field. They waved once more to their friends. Then Sert pressed a button. A shimmering field built up about them, cutting off their view. It was gray and weird, and the passage twisted and curved. Again, as long before, Larry experienced that wild, topsy-turvy sense of bottomlessness ... of falling ... of clutching for some support. His hand found something soft and warm that gripped his own.... * * * * * He opened his eyes to find a black face peering into his; great white eyes staring with fright. A soft hand was under his armpit, raising him; a liquid Negro voice was demanding, "Yo' awright, boss? Yo' hurt yo'se'f? Ah di'n't see you fall till--boom! Theah you was! Yo' awright?" Larry said, "Yes, I'm all right." Then he remembered. He turned swiftly. "The girl--where is she? Sandy!" And Sandra was at his side. Both of them were on the steps in the Broad Street Station in Philadelphia. They were being stared at by curious eyes; a little crowd had gathered. Larry looked swiftly at his wrist-watch. The hands stood at 10:59 on the dot. He said confusedly, "We--we're back where we started from, Sandy? Everything's the same, only--" "Only," finished the girl, "everything's different, now." And she stood on tiptoe to kiss him. Somebody in the crowd sniggered. A veteran trainman chuckled and nudged a neighbor. "Newlyweds?" he said. "You can spot 'em every time. Oh, well--nothin' like bein' young!" Larry looked at Sandra, and a smile touched his lips. "We're not," he said, "what he thinks. But--it's a damn good idea."