“Here is the gage that registers the pull of the disk,” he said, finally, after having explained the rudiments of the _Sphere’s_ operation. He indicated a dial attached to the rod which harnessed the powerful mythonite disk to the core of the _Sphere_. He pushed the first of a row of switch buttons on the controller. Poor Henry’s heart fluttered as a faint scraping sound heralded the mere opening of one of the three cameralike platinum shutters over the mythonite disk’s highly magnetic surface. He was already regretting his consent to accompany them on a trial flight. The handle on the dial of the lifting gage suddenly raced from zero and steadied at 605 pounds. The _Sphere_ remained at rest. All three men were now keyed to the highest pitch of excitement. This was the first time the completed apparatus had been tested, and upon its results depended entirely the success of the _Sphere_ and its remarkable project planned by the professor. The registered tension on the strong steel arm removed all doubt from the minds of Robert and Professor Palmer regarding the success of mythonite as a practical power of propulsion. A feeling of wild exultation gripped them both. “Danger from shock of sudden great pull is avoided by gradual uncovering of the disk’s surface,” resumed Robert as he pushed the next button, sending the hand on the dial up to 1,420. The third button swung it to 3,475, accompanied by a slight tremor perceptible in the floor of the _Sphere_. Their startled glances through the nearest porthole satisfied them, however, that the _Sphere_ still rested on _terra firma_. Robert pushed all three of the corresponding row of buttons directly over the first three, and the hand again registered zero. “I don’t want to lift the roof off your barn, professor,” exclaimed Robert. “I’ll start the gyrostats now to neutralize the _Sphere’s_ weight, and we will get out and push it outside the stable.” A few minutes later the now thoroughly convinced Henry watched his companions disappear within the _Sphere’s_ shell while he debated with himself as to whether he should follow them. A moment later Professor Palmer appeared at a porthole and beckoned him; but Henry shook his head vehemently. The professor unlatched the window and swung it open. “Hurry in, Henry,” he called. “Voyage is about to commence.” “Not I, professor! This suits me real well, right out here.” “Come on, Henry,” the professor urged. “You aren’t afraid?” “Not afraid--just a little bit careful. I’m just beginning to find out how nice and solid this ground feels. I’ll watch you do it.” And no amount of urging would change his mind. He politely but firmly maintained that he felt much healthier outside. “Stubborn chap, that,” the professor commented to Robert. “Can’t say that I blame him, though.” “Simply a difference in the values we set on our own carcasses,” suggested Robert. “Henry just takes his more seriously than we.”