Mrs. Briggs, still fascinated by the view, said, "Well, go get a drink, then." Timmy walked over the edge, screamed as he fell. Mrs. Briggs could only stare, stunned. George uttered a cry and ran to the cliffs rim. Tourists nearby ran up, looked down with George. A hundred feet below on the slope at a point where it dropped off to nothing, a horrified Timmy was crouched clutching a small tree. "Hold on!" George called encouragingly. A few minutes later someone had found a long rope in a gyrocar trunk and roped it about George's middle. They let him over the edge gently, dropped him down the slope slowly. "Hang on, Timmy!" George yelled, running a tongue over dry lips and momentarily closing his eyes to the dizzying depths. "Don't let the little rocks coming down worry you." A while later, a dust-streaked Timmy was back on the ledge in his mother's arms, sobbing. George, his shirt wet with sweat, and struggling out of the rope, panted: "Whatever came over you, Timmy?" "It was so real I thought it was the Elroom. I was just going out to the kitchen to get a drink of water." "And I--I told him to go," Mrs. Briggs said, horrified. "It was that real to me, too." * * * * * FOR SALE ELROOM, complete. Like new. Reasonable. Or will trade for new Cadillac 8-passenger, twin-turbo gyro, red preferred. George Briggs, 7228 Rose Terrace. Phone CARberry 7-9087.