"What is it?" asked the scientist, impatient at the interruption. "Sir, the people have heard all about the Switzerland incident of an hour ago and desire to show their appreciation." "Well, I suppose I must submit," the inventor rather wearily responded, and both stepped over into the round steel car of the electromagnetic elevator. The butler pressed one of the 28 ivory buttons and the car shot downward, with neither noise nor friction. There were no cables or guides, the car being held and propelled by magnetism only. At the 22nd floor the car stopped, and Ralph stepped into the transmission-room. No sooner had he entered than the deafening applause of hundreds of thousands of voices greeted him, and he was forced to put his hands to his ears to muffle the sound. _Yet, the transmission-room was entirely empty._ Every inch of the wall, however, was covered with large-sized Telephots and loud-speaking devices. Centuries ago, when people tendered some one an ovation, they would all assemble in some great square or large hall. The celebrity would have to appear in person, else there would be no ovation--truly a clumsy means. Then, too, in those years, people at a distance could neither see nor hear what was going on throughout the world. Ralph's ovation was the result of the enterprise of a news "paper" which had issued extras about his exploit, and urged its readers to be connected with him at 5 p.m. Naturally everyone who could spare the time had called the Teleservice Company and asked to be connected with the inventor's trunk-line--and this was the result. Ralph 124C 41 + stepped into the middle of the room and bowed to the four points of the compass, in order that all might see him perfectly. The noise was deafening, and as it rather grew in volume than diminished he beseechingly held up his hands. In a few seconds the applause ceased and some one cried--"Speech!" Ralph spoke briefly, thanking his audience for their interest, and touching but lightly upon his rescue of the young Swiss girl, begged his hearers to remember that in no way had he risked his life and therefore could scarcely be called a hero. Vociferous cries of "No, no," told him that no one shared his humble opinion of the achievement. It was at this juncture that Ralph's attention was caught by two persons in the audience. There were so many thousands of faces on each plate that nearly every countenance was blurred, due to their constant movement. (He himself, however, was clearly seen by them, as each one had switched on their "reversers," making it possible to see only the object at the end of the line.) To Ralph, the shifting, clouded appearance of his audience was a commonplace.