An hour later Dr. Alton returned afoot. He had left his horse in the village to be shod. As he walked up the driveway he noticed a figure standing on the mounting block before the house. It was so enveloped in the golden glories of a setting sun that Dr. Alton failed, at first, to recognize his own son. The figure seemed a part of the sunset--more an ethereal spirit than an earthly boy. Cyrus was standing erect and motionless, his head thrown back as if inhaling inspiration from the radiance about him. Such prolonged and voluntary immobility would be unusual in any boy. Moreover, Cyrus maintained this attitude, forgetting--or ignoring--the customary greeting to his father. After waiting a moment before his strangely indifferent son, a feeling of uneasiness began to mingle with Dr. Alton's surprise. At the foot of the block sat Zac, looking up at the silent boy. And Zac, also, might be a little off in his mind for he, too, failed to welcome or even to notice the returning parent. At last Dr. Alton spoke. "What's the matter, Cyrus? Dreaming you are a bird?" Slowly Cyrus lowered his face, his eyes still shut. And slowly the eyes were opened as if waking from a sleep. They showed a mild surprise at his father's presence. But he answered, in a low voice, as if his spirit still lingered elsewhere: "Somebody wants us." "Who?" "I don't know." "But you know who told you." "No, sir. Nobody told me." "What do you mean, Cyrus? Wake up. Is it an emergency call?" Cyrus raised a hand and pointed before him, toward the south. "It comes from off there." Dr. Alton frowned, less from irritation than from fear that this foolish utterance of his son might be the forerunner of some future spiritualistic obsession--or other mental derangement. But he spoke gently. "Whose house do you think it is?" "Oh, I don't know at all! It comes from way off--way off! It's in the air; not a loud sound, like somebody near. More like a--like a--breath." "What does it say?" "It says--it says--oh, I dunno. It isn't words." "Then how do you know they want me?" "It wants us both. It wants me too." Dr. Alton smiled. "Do they want your help as another doctor?" But Cyrus did not return the smile. He obviously regarded the message with a certain solemnity--and awe. Again he closed his eyes and again turned up his face. "It is still coming." "What is still coming, Cyrus? The same message?" "Yes, sir, the same message--that we are wanted there." "Where?" "I don't know. But it isn't anywheres near here. It's a good ways off. And we are wanted very much;--oh, very much!" Dr. Alton turned away. "Well, Cyrus, when you get your message in more definite form I shall be glad to consider it." As he entered the house, however, he stood in the doorway a moment, looking back. Cyrus was still standing on the mounting block, with face upturned. On the ground sat Zac, still waiting patiently for his hero to return to earth.