His companion frowned. "Nothing that I carry is worth money," he returned shortly. "I flatter myself that not a man in the world, no, not even you, Grayson," there was a slight sneer in his voice, "could make head or tail of my memoranda. And yet, there it is, the entire proposition, written down, in black and white. But it's all in code, and I carry the code in my head." "I'm sincerely glad to hear it," replied the other. He looked about him nervously. "I--have a feeling that we oughtn't to have come here." "You make me tired," said Baggin wearily. "We oughtn't be seen together," persisted the other. "All sorts of people are here. Men from the city, perhaps. Suppose I should be recognised--my picture was in all the papers." "Don't be a fool," said Baggin roughly. "And for Heaven's sake, don't peer around in that silly fashion. Let me give you an epigram of Poltavo's. 'It is the observer who is always observed.' Rather neat, eh?" "I wish he were in with us on this thing." "I don't," retorted Baggin. "So that's settled. He's done his work, and that's the end of him." "I doubt it," returned the other thoughtfully. "And, frankly, if the matter comes up again, I shall vote to admit him." "Well, wait till it does come up," growled Baggin. "And don't talk shop in a crowd like this. Do you know what Poltavo says? 'Men babble away their secrets, and whisper away their lives.'" There was a long pause, and the stranger knew that one of the Americans was making dumb-show signals of warning. They were nodding at him, he felt sure, so he bowed and asked politely: "At what hour is the eclipse?" "No savvy," said the fat man, "no hablo Espagnol." The stranger shrugged his shoulders, and turned again to the contemplation of the plain below. "He doesn't speak English," said the fat man, "none of these beggars do." His friend made no reply, but after a silence of a few minutes he said quietly and in English: "Look at that balloon." But the stranger was not to be trapped by a simple trick like that, and continued his stolid regard of the landscape; besides he had seen the balloons parked on the outskirts of the town, and knew that intrepid scientists would make the ascent to gather data. He took another look at the sun. The disc was half-way across its surface, and the west was grey and blue, and the little clouds that flecked the sky were iridescent. Crowds still poured up the hill, and the slope was now covered with people. He had to stand up, and in doing so, he found himself side by side with the fat man. A strange light was coming to the world; there were triple shadows on the ground, and the stout man shifted uneasily. "Don't like this, Baggin," he said fretfully, "it's hateful--never did like these wonders of the sky, they make me nervous. It's awful. Look out there, out west behind you. It's black, black--it's like the end of the world!" "Cut it out!" said his unimaginative companion.