He paused for the space of a breath. Bee, white-faced, tremulous, turned to me. "Don't let him do it, Rob!" "I must," he declared vehemently. "Rob, that's why we needed you here--to wait here with Bee. I'm going in there tonight--into the shadows, the borderland, whatever it is. These--nameless things are striving to come out--but I'm going to turn them back if I can!" CHAPTER III INTO THE SHADOWS There were few preparations to make, for Wilton Grant had planned this thing very carefully. Our chief difficulty was with Bee. The girl was quite distraught; illness, the fear which for weeks had been dragging her down, completely submerged the scientist in her. And then abruptly she mastered herself, smiled through her tears. "That's more like it, Bee." Will glanced aside at me with relief. "I couldn't understand you. Why Bee, we've been working at this thing for years." "I'm all right now." She smiled at us--a brave smile though her lips were still trembling. "You're--about ready, aren't you?" They had set aside a small room on the lower floor of the house--a sort of den which now was stripped of its accustomed hangings and furniture. It had two windows, looking out to the garden and lawn about the house. They were some six feet above the ground. It was a warm mid-summer evening; we had the lower sashes opened, but the shades fully drawn lest some neighbor or passerby observe us from without. On the floor of this room lay a mattress. There was a small table, a clock, two easy chairs. For the rest it was bare. Its white plaster walls, devoid of hangings, gave it somewhat the sanitary look of a room in a hospital. We had been so occupied with Bee that Will had as yet given me no word of explanation. He left the little room now, returning in a moment with some articles which he deposited on the table. I eyed them silently; a shiver of fear, apprehension, awe--I could not define it--passed over me. Will had placed on the table a carafe of water; a glass; a small vial containing a number of tiny pellets; a cylindrical object with wires and terminal posts which had the appearance of a crude home-made battery--four wires each some ten feet in length, terminating each in a circular metallic band. I glanced at Bee. Outwardly now she was quite composed. She smiled at me. "He'll explain in a moment, Rob. It's quite simple." We were ready. By the clock on the table it was twenty minutes of ten. Will faced us. "I'd like to start by ten o'clock," he began quietly. "The time-factor will be altered--I want to compute the difference--when I return--as closely as I can." I had the ill grace to attempt an interruption, but he silenced me. "Wait, Rob--twenty minutes is not a long time for what I have to say and do." He had motioned us to the easy chairs, and seated himself cross-legged on the mattress before us. His gaze was intent upon my face.