“I am but an old man, Robert,” Professor Palmer argued, “while you are a young man in your prime, with a long, promising career before you. The chances of the _Sphere’s_ reaching Mars safely and returning, in spite of its remarkable powers, are extremely uncertain. Who knows what strange phenomena it may encounter in the depths of space? Suppose its apparatus should fail midway. Think of the fate that may await us. Even if we reached Mars, and found it inhabited with intelligent beings, how do we know we should be permitted to return? Take my advice, my boy, and remain here. You may lose the _Sphere_, but you know its principle, and have proved its practicability. You can command the services of the world’s best mechanical skill in the rapid construction of another _Sphere_, and still others. In addition, I shall leave you my entire estate and possessions.” Robert was deeply moved by Professor Palmer’s concern over him and by his generosity. “You have been very good to me,” he said. “I appreciate it deeply. But I am going with you. We will share the dangers together, and together we will also share the glory of achievement. I believe we are going to succeed.” And so, with these two declarations was sealed the pact of partnership which was to carry them together on the perilous journey. * * * * * When their final intention of attempting to reach Mars was announced, the journalistic world fairly seethed with excitement. Every magazine issue contained portraits of Robert and Professor Palmer, accompanied by cuts of the _Sphere_ and the professor’s latest maps and photographs of the red planet. Never had any human undertaking even mildly approached theirs in magnitude. They were hailed as the heroes of the hour. It was agreed that the secrets of the _Sphere_ were to be set down and placed in a safety deposit box with a certain great trust company, to be opened and read only in case Robert and the professor failed to return after two years’ time. Thus, the world could not lose the secret of this remarkable invention. Professor Margard, at this point, proved that his opposition to Professor Palmer’s theories was entirely impersonal. In published interviews, he highly commended his worthy contemporary’s courage, as well as that of his companion; but he deplored the dangerous project in the face of what he considered conclusive evidence against the possible existence of inhabitants on Mars. “Misdirected courage; misplaced martrydom,” he termed their intentions. “Misdirected fiddlesticks,” snorted Professor Palmer when he read this. “We’ll show these people a thing or two.”