Loto's glance swept across all the men in the room. "I have found a way to cross time, just as you are able to cross space. And two weeks from tonight, gentlemen, with, your assistance, I propose to start forward through the centuries that lie ahead of us. I'm going to find that girl--if I can--and release her--help her out of whatever danger, whatever trouble she is in!" CHAPTER TWO "Honor to Loto," cried the Big Business Man. "The youngest and greatest scientist of all time!" "There's a double meaning in that," laughed the Doctor, amid the applause. "The greatest scientist of time! He is, indeed." It was outwardly a gay little gathering, having dinner in a small private room of the Scientific Club. But underneath the laughter there was a note of tenseness, and two of the people--a man and a woman--laughed infrequently with gayety that was forced. The man was Rogers; the woman, Lylda, his wife, mother of Loto. She was the only woman in the room. At first glance she would have seemed no more than thirty-five, though in reality she was several years older--a small, slender figure in a simple black evening dress that covered her shoulders, but left her throat bare. Her beauty was of a curious type; her face was oval, her features delicately molded and of pronounced Grecian cast. Yet there seemed about her, also, an indefinable touch of the Orient; her eyes, perhaps, which were slate gray, large and very slightly upturned at the corners. Her complexion was fair; her hair thick, wavy and coal-black. That she was a woman of intellect, culture and refinement was obvious. There was about her, too, a look of gentle sweetness, the air of a woman who could be nothing less than charming. Her eyes, as she met those of her men friends around her, were direct and honest. But when she regarded Loto this evening, a yearning melancholy sprang into them, with a mistiness as though the tears were restrained only by an effort. The laughter about the table died out. A waiter was removing the last of the dishes; the men were lighting their cigars. "Well," said the Banker, breaking the silence, "now let us hear it. If everyone is as curious as I am--" "More," put in George. "I'm more curious." "You're right," agreed Rogers. "We must get on." "First," the Big Business Man interrupted, "I want to know more about that screen behind which you saw that other time world of the future." "I know very little myself," Rogers answered. "So little that Loto and I could never duplicate it. But the theory is understandable. The space where Central Park now is has a certain time factor allied to its other properties. The light, the rays, from that screen, whatever may have been their character, altered the time factor of that space.