The old man stepped from the controls and approached the disk. He scooped the little animal from where it lay into his arms and patted the silky head. "Good dog," he murmured; and the creature snuggled close to him, comforted, already forgetting that horrible place from which it had just returned. "Is everything ready, George?" asked the old man. "Yes, sir," replied the servant. "The men are all ready, even anxious to go. If you ask me, sir, they are a tough lot." "They are as brave a group of men as ever graced the Earth," replied the scientist gently. "They are adventurers, every one of whom has faced danger and will not shrink from it. They are born fighters. My one regret is that I have not been able to secure more like them. A thousand men such as they should be able to conquer any opponent. It was impossible. The others were poor soft fools. They laughed in my face. They thought I was an old fool--I, the man who alone stands between them and utter destruction." His voice had risen to almost a scream, but it again sank to a normal tone. "I may be sending ninety-eight brave men to instant death. I hope not." "You can always jerk them back, sir," suggested George. "Maybe I can, maybe not," murmured the old man. Henry Woods appeared in the doorway. "When do we start?" he asked. "We?" exclaimed the scientist. "Certainly, you don't believe you're going to leave me out of this. Why, man, it's the greatest story of all time. I'm going as special war correspondent." "They believed it? They are going to publish it?" cried the old man, clutching at the newspaperman's sleeve. "Well, the editor was skeptical at first, but after I swore on all sorts of oaths it was true, he ate it up. Maybe you think that story didn't stop the presses!" "I didn't expect them to. I just took a chance. I thought they, too, would laugh at me." "But when do we start?" persisted Henry. "You are really in earnest? You really want to go?" asked the old man, unbelievingly. "I am going. Try to stop me." Dr. White glanced at his watch. "We will start in exactly thirty-four minutes," he said. * * * * * "Ten seconds to go." George, standing with watch in hand, spoke in a precise manner, the very crispness of his words betraying the excitement under which he labored. The blue light, hissing, drove from disk to disk; the room thundered with the roar of the machine, before which stood Dr. White, his hand on the lever, his eyes glued on the instruments before him.