Evening came. The others arrived, singly and in couples. For two hours a bustle of final preparations went on--things forgotten, last minute plans put into execution. But by nine o'clock the moment of departure was finally at hand. The Banker was in a fluster of excitement. He had appointed himself the leader of those who were to be left behind, and he felt the responsibility keenly. "Tell me exactly what we've got to do," he insisted. "I don't want anything to go wrong." Rogers slapped him on the back. "It's nothing to be alarmed over." "No. But I want to be sure I've got it straight. Tell me all over again." Rogers repressed a smile. "When we have gone you will all wait some ten minutes to be sure nothing has gone wrong to bring us immediately back. Then you will lock up the enclosure and leave. I have made arrangements with the club to have the enclosure left standing." "That's all?" asked the Banker anxiously. "We leave the roof open?" "Yes. In coming back we will want it open, and you cannot tell when we may return." "But no more than six months," the Banker insisted. "You promise that?" Rogers nodded. "Come on," George's voice called. "Let's get started." He had shaken hands with Lylda and climbed up to the doorway of the cabin. "Come on, Mr. Rogers. Let's get started." Lylda stood apart. Her farewell to her husband was brief. The others turned away, feeling that they should not intrude upon it. When Rogers joined George on the platform of the plane, the Doctor was with Lylda, comforting her. With a final good-by Rogers slid the door closed. The forward compartment, with its low arch ceiling and its concave walls, was small, but comfortably equipped. The side windows had upholstered seats running under them. In front, to the right, were the Frazia controls, a low seat for the pilot and a small window above the control panel. The time dials and the proton current switch were on the wall to the right. To the left of the seat was the main entrance door. The division wall between the forward compartment and the engine room behind it held a small doorway with a sliding door. "Are we ready?" Rogers asked. "I think we should be sitting. The shock of departure, new to us, may be more severe than we anticipate." His words were calm enough, but they sent a thrill of excitement through George. "All ready," he said. "Go ahead!" Rogers took a last look about. Then without hesitation, he moved the switch to the first intensity. To George, the humming seemed very different now than when he had heard it outside the plane. It was no louder, but it seemed to hum and vibrate inside his body. He was quivering inside, his head began reeling dizzily; then came that sickening, horrible sensation of falling headlong--a vertigo that turned everything to blackness. "Are you all right? We've started."