Billings was standing by the window looking at a glass thermometer that he had just withdrawn from his mouth. "Um!" he grunted complacently. "Ninety-seven and a quarter--my usual healthy subnormal temperature. Pulse sixty-five--respiration, twenty-four and two-fifths--excellent, excellent! I am myself. Ha!" And he whirled triumphantly. "Ah!" he said, advancing eagerly and rubbing his hands. "It is you! You have heard, then? Marvelous, isn't it--wholly incredible! But do you know"--here he plucked at my shirt front, took a pinch, as it were, just as he had seen the professor do--"I can not find any transmigration. The materialization appears to be wholly optical." "Never mind," I said anxiously, for I knew he was talking about the rubies; "_we_ don't care." I smiled brightly. "Let's go down and see the car--_nice_ car!" And I tried to get hold of his fat side, but missed it. "Car?" Billings looked puzzled. Then his face broke into a smile. "_Carpe diem_--eh, am I not right? True, true! Whither you say." He looked about on a table. "Um--my notes, now," he muttered; and he caught up a small book and a pencil. The professor's man protested: "Professor Doozenberry don't like--" "Oh, dash it, let him have them!" I exclaimed, for Billings was already chuckling happily and writing in the little blank book. "Come on," I pleaded, catching a fold of the pajamas. "Wouldn't you like to come get some clothes on?" He drew back in alarm. "No, no--not yet--not until I complete my notes," was his crazy answer. "You know: _sublata causa, tollitur effectus_!" And he looked as though he thought this would finish me. "But your friend," he exclaimed suddenly, as he allowed me to throw a blanket about his shoulders and we moved out of the door, "the gentleman I met last night--Billings--is not that the name?" I looked at him miserably as we entered the car to go down. "Oh, I say, Billings, old chap," I protested earnestly, "don't you know me?" I pointed to the little panel of mirror in the cage. "Don't you know _you_ are Billings? Can't you _see_?" His fat head pecked at the glass for an instant. Then he looked at me with eager, batting eyes. He chuckled hoarsely, gurglingly, and out came the note-book and pencil from his sleeve. "Better and better," he muttered. "Now, if we could only go to _him_!" He caught my arm. "In the interest of this investigation of scientific phenomena, would he consider a call intrusive--could we not seek your friend, Mr. Billings?" "It's all right, you know," I gently reassured him. "Yes, we're going to him--going right there. Just a little ride, you know." By Jove, the way he cackled made my heart ache! I whispered to Jenkins to run ahead and prepare the ladies. But the first thing we saw as the cage hit the bottom was a woman--and, dash it, the frump from China! She gave a little scream and fell on Billings' neck, almost bearing him to the ground. "Oh, Jacky, Jacky!" she sobbed.