Meanwhile, I was getting hungrier by the minute. I don't know why it is, but there's nothing will make a man want to eat more than the knowledge that the cupboard is bare. My thoughts were not nearly so concerned with the wonders I was viewing than with visions of ten-inch T-bone steaks smothered in mushrooms ... roast fowl ... cranberry sauce and gravy ... fried country ham with apples ... things like that. And the drink question was even more acute. After all, we had been caged up in our little egg, now, for several hours. We were beginning to feel puh-lenty thirsty, and our desire for water was not lessened by the thought that it was impossible to get any. That's when it began to seem to me that everywhere we visited, food and drink were prominently displayed. Once we landed in the middle of a gigantic banquet-hall. Tables groaned with dainties fit for a king--and sure enough, there was a king seated at the head of the table! He was a mighty sick-looking king, though, when he laid eyes on us! He let loose a howl in what Helen claimed was modified Spanish, and dived under the table. We left hastily, before his Kingship should leave his subjects kingless. I've often wondered, since, how many legends sprang from our visitations. There must have been hundreds of wild stories told by Indians, Frenchmen, Englishmen, Spaniards and Dutch who saw a shadowy egg with three wraiths in it appear suddenly out of nowhere, and as quickly disappear. It was probably because of this that Hank turned to me, finally, with a pledge. "Tell you one thing, Jim," he said earnestly. "If we get outa this here now mess, the fust thing I'm gonna do is bust this machine into a million pieces. I done learned a lesson. It ain't right to go messin' around in things like this when you can't control 'em perfect. It just ain't according to Hoyle to do it." "But if it contributes to science--" I said. "It don't, Jim. It's all puffectly clear an' logical to me, now. You see, it wouldn't do a man no good to go gallivantin' off into the past, because all he'd do is start a new chain of could-bes. An' it don't do no good for a man to slide sideways through Time, because whut he learns ain't of no consequence to him in his Time, an' just disturbs the folks he meets. So after this, I'm gonna confine myself to tryin' to improve the affairs o' the world we do live in-- "Hey! What was that?" I had heard it, too. I stared at him wildly. "It sounded like--like somebody calling your name!" I said doubtfully. "That's whut I thought!" yelled Hank. "Listen--it's a voice, comin' closer!" We all heard it plainly now. A voice calling curiously, pleadingly, through the gray mists that engulfed us. "Hank! Oh, Hank Cleaver! Where are you?" We all yelled. And what I mean, we yelled loud! And then, out of the formless veil, came a shimmer of light. A nebulous _something_ that grew more solid, became more and more sharply visible as our cries attracted it, and finally coalesced into--