During the first three days and nights he worked without sleep. Then outraged nature asserted itself, and he was compelled to rest. From then until the day of the completion of the radio station, he put himself on a sleep ration of four hours a day. On May 19th, just two weeks after the projectiles from the moon had struck the earth, and nearly two months from the day Dustin’s projectile had exploded on the moon, there was a large and august assemblage in the general office of Theodore Dustin, Inc. Forty of the world’s leading linguists, representing every race and color on the globe, talked excitedly in a multiplicity of tongues. Nor were modern languages solely represented, for there was a small group of men whose life studies had been the forgotten languages of the past—men who had wrested from crypts, pyramids, monuments, caves, and the ruins of ancient cities, temples and fortresses, the secrets of the speech of the ancients. Nor were these all. A still smaller group consisted of the greatest men of science, sent by the leading nations of the earth. From time to time, they glanced expectantly at the door of Dustin’s private office. Presently the door opened and Dustin stepped out, accompanied by President Whitmore of the United States. Instantly the buzz of conversation ceased, as Ted held his hand aloft for silence. “We are ready, gentlemen,” he announced. “Follow me to the elevators.” Three trips of the elevators landed everyone on the roof. In the center was a building containing the sending and receiving apparatus. Overhead were stretched the wires of the gigantic aerial. Ted conducted his party to the doorway of the building and into a small auditorium with seats and desks arranged in a semicircle. Here Sanders met them and assisted Ted in showing each man to the desk which had been provided for him. When all were seated, Ted and Roger pulled back two sliding doors which disclosed a small stage and a radiovisiphone with a disc ten feet in diameter, which faced the gathering. “Now, Mr. President,” said Ted, “if you will do us the honor of pressing the button on the desk before you, you will close the circuit of the set through which we hope to establish communication with the inhabitants of the moon. The zero hour has arrived. In accordance with the orders of the Associated Governments of the Earth, every broadcasting station in the world has ceased to function.” The President smiled and pressed the button. A terrific crackling roar from the radiovisiphone followed his action. Ted speedily adjusted a set of dials on the desk before him, and the roar subsided. Then he stepped before the radiovisiphone.