This was not the first time that he had been called upon to receive the thanks of the multitude for some unusual service he had rendered them, or some surprising scientific feat he had successfully accomplished. While realizing that he must of necessity yield to public adulation, it more or less bored him. He was not particularly interested in the crowd, either collectively or individually, and as there were so many faces crowded into each faceplate he made no attempt to distinguish friends from strangers. Yet there were two faces among the numerous Telephot faceplates that Ralph in making his brief speech, found his eyes returning to again and again. Each occupied the whole of a respective faceplate and while dissimilar in appearance, nevertheless were markedly alike in expression. It was as if they were studying this great scientist, endeavoring to fix in their minds a permanent picture of him. Ralph sensed no animosity in their steady almost hypnotic gaze and yet they were curiously apart from the enthusiastic throng. He felt as though he were, to both of them, under the microscope. One of the faces was that of a man in his early thirties. It was a handsome face, though, to the close observer, the eyes were set just a trifle too near together, and the mouth betrayed cunning and had a touch of viciousness. The other was not a Terrestrial, but a visiting Martian. It was impossible to mistake the distinctly Martian cast of countenance. The great black horse eyes in the long, melancholy face, the elongated slightly pointed ears were proof enough. Martians in New York were not sufficiently rare to excite any particular comment. Many made that city their permanent home, although the law on the planet Earth, as well as on Mars, which forbade the intermarriage of Martians and Terrestrials, kept them from flocking earthwards in any great numbers. In the applause that followed the conclusion of Ralph's words the incident of the two pairs of scrutinizing eyes vanished from his thoughts. But his sub-conscious self, that marvelous mechanism which forgets nothing, had photographed them indelibly. With the plaudits of the crowd still ringing he bowed and left the room. He went, via the elevator, directly to his library, and asked for the afternoon news. His man handed him a tray on which lay a piece of material _as large as a postage stamp_, as transparent and flexible as celluloid. "What edition is this?" he asked. "The 5 o'clock _New York News_,[1] sir." Ralph took the "News" and placed it in a metal holder which was part of the hinged door of a small box. He closed the door and turned on a switch on the side of the box. Immediately there appeared on the opposite white wall of the room, a twelve-column page of the _New York News_ and the scientist, leaning back in his chair, proceeded to read. The _New York News_ was simply a microscopic reduction of a page, which, when enlarged by a powerful lens, became plainly visible.