* * * * * As the last day of their stay on Earth approached, Robert was torn by conflicting emotions. At one moment the venture stood forth in all its glory of achievement and adventure; the next, with appalling realization of its vastness, its unknown terrors. From time immemorial, man has instinctively dreaded the unknown, and Robert was plainly afraid. But, though the possibility of backing out did naturally occur to him with devilish persistence, he always rejected it promptly, determinedly. He would not countenance the thought of deserting the professor. It had finally been decided to start on the following day, the second of the month. Anxious reporters hovered about the place, each eager to make a “scoop” for his own paper. The more enterprising tried to wheedle some information out of Henry or the taciturn Jasper. “Now, young mon, ye’ll kindly bate it. I’ve no time to bother with the likes of ye,” the good-natured but sorely bothered Jarvis finally told them, one after another, as they approached him. Henry, equally annoyed, decided upon cunning. “I’m not certain,” he was repeating, confidentially, for the third time that day, “but I understand that they plan starting on the sly tomorrow night.” The young reporter with the brilliant red hair listened with apparently keen interest. He thanked the secretary politely, and departed. But a curious smile on his face as he turned away would not have exactly reassured Henry had he seen it. Evidently the redhead retained some ideas of his own. His sharp, intelligent features did not give him the appearance of one easily fooled by subterfuge. And indeed he was not. Hugh Taggert had a trait of always trying to out-think the other fellow--and he usually succeeded. Probably it was this that had made him the most valuable man on the _Morning Chronicle’s_ staff of reporters. That the secretary had tried to mislead him Taggert felt certain. But as to when the _Sphere_ was scheduled to start, he knew no more than before. However, Henry’s statement had a significance which suggested something to his alert mind. The night start did not seem unlikely, but that a man of the character he keenly judged Henry Simms to be should readily give his employer’s secret plans away, did seem unlikely. He determined not only to redouble his vigilance, but to remain on watch that very night instead of waiting for the next night. Henry’s mistake was in mentioning anything about night at all. His idea, of course, was merely to induce the troublesome reporters to lose a whole night’s sleep uselessly. As a matter of fact, it mattered little to Robert and the professor whether their departure was observed or not. It simply amused them to evade the persistence of their besiegers if they could. 8