They walked into the temple. The atmosphere there was cool and moist. Glass pillars, spiral in form, loomed in the shadows. Lyssa and Perry looked around intently, as if searching for the answer to a riddle. In an indented portion of the blue grass floor, there was a cluster of spherical globes, crystal clear. They were maybe three inches in diameter. Idly, yet with an odd and very significant thought lurking in the back of her mind, Lyssa kicked at one of the globes with her rough shoe. Immediately it broke, coalescing liquidly with several of its neighbors to form a slightly flattened ovoid. It was like a huge drop of quicksilver in shape. Lyssa was thinking deeply, but then Perry got her off the track. "Look, Troubles!" he shouted. "The air resistance really is higher here!" She turned her eyes toward where he pointed. Light shafted into the room through the high, arching entrance. Surrounding semi-darkness brought out the phenomenon plainly. Motes were floating in the path of the light. And long, fibrous things, like lint. Only the motes were as large as grains of sand, and the crooked strings of lint were as thick as lead pencils! "The air resistance would have to be higher, or the rate of its molecular motion and bombardment would have to be a lot swifter than usual, to support such big particles," said Perry. "But how can that be? It seems the same old familiar air!" He halted, a startled scowl crinkling his sunbleached eyebrows. "Say!" he drawled at last, mounting incredulity in his tone. "Say!..." * * * * * Sensing that he was at the last barrier of the riddle that had begun with his discovery of the great triangular outline in Minnesota hills, he studied the glass walls around him. In the depths of their colored substance, he could see large bubbles, and flaws of exaggerated size. Then his gaze fell on the liquid, globular things that Troubles had kicked. They looked exactly as though it was ordinary water that composed them--as though they were dewdrops--except for their huge dimensions. "That's the funny thing we noticed, but couldn't quite place," Lyssa offered. "That dew. That dust in the air. The flaws in glass. Such stuff is all bigger than it should be, Perry. But what does that mean?" Perry was thinking as fast and as hard as he could, then, trying to put together all the puzzling pieces of his recent experience. Most significant was the odd, tightening, _shrinking_ sensation, he had felt, after the automatons had tossed him into the vat of liquid. "Troubles," he said very slowly. "I--think--I've--got--it! _We've--been--reduced--in--size!_ We're Lilliputians, maybe an inch high, now! This cavern isn't the huge thing it seems to us. Comparatively, it's a toy cavern. The buildings are toy buildings; though they naturally seem gigantic to us, because we're so small too. But dew and dust, relying on universal physical laws of nature, remain normally--big!"