The Big Business Man rose and went over to a dinner-tray, standing near the door. "Lord, I'm hungry. I must have forgotten to eat to-day." He lifted up one of the silver covers. What he saw evidently encouraged him, for he drew up a chair and began his lunch. The Very Young Man lighted a cigarette. "It will be the tragedy of my life," he said, "if he never comes back." The Big Business Man smiled. "How about _his_ life?" he answered, but the Very Young Man had fallen into a reverie and did not reply. The Big Business Man finished his lunch in silence and was just about to light a cigar when a sharp exclamation brought him hastily to his feet. "Come here, quick, I see something." The Very Young Man had his face close to the ring and was trembling violently. The other pushed him back. "Let me see. Where?" "There, by the scratch; he's lying there; I can see him." The Big Business Man looked and then hurriedly woke the Doctor. "He's come back," he said briefly; "you can see him there." The Doctor bent down over the ring while the others woke up the Banker. "He doesn't seem to be getting any bigger," said the Very Young Man; "he's just lying there. Maybe he's dead." "What shall we do?" asked the Big Business Man, and made as if to pick up the ring. The Doctor shoved him away. "Don't do that!" he said sharply. "Do you want to kill him?" "He's sitting up," cried the Very Young Man. "He's all right." "He must have fainted," said the Doctor. "Probably he's taking more of the drug now." "He's much larger," said the Very Young Man; "look at him!" The tiny figure was sitting sideways on the ring, with its feet hanging over the outer edge. It was growing perceptibly larger each instant, and in a moment it slipped down off the ring and sank in a heap on the handkerchief. "Good Heavens! Look at him!" cried the Big Business Man. "He's all covered with blood." The little figure presented a ghastly sight. As it steadily grew larger they could see and recognize the Chemist's haggard face, his cheek and neck stained with blood, and his white suit covered with dirt. "Look at his feet," whispered the Big Business Man. They were horribly cut and bruised and greatly swollen. The Doctor bent over and whispered gently, "What can I do to help you?" The Chemist shook his head. His body, lying prone upon the handkerchief, had torn it apart in growing. When he was about twelve inches in length he raised his head. The Doctor bent closer. "Some brandy, please," said a wraith of the Chemist's voice. It was barely audible. "He wants some brandy," called the Doctor. The Very Young Man looked hastily around, then opened the door and dashed madly out of the room. When he returned, the Chemist had grown to nearly four feet. He was sitting on the floor with his back against the Doctor's knees. The Big Business Man was wiping the blood off his face with a damp napkin.