"You grasp the idea," said Rog Tanlu, with quiet satisfaction. "But you must not judge the capacity of the Ice Stone by its external dimensions. They are quite deceptive. I assure you that its ramifications in the fourth dimension would enable it to absorb a total of all telluric energies, and still have room to spare.... Come, my friends, I had not realized that you were suffering from the cold! Let us return to the balmy open. I find your climate--inexpressible!" Well, I wasn't sorry to hear this proposal. And judging by the way Doc Champ was frostily puffing and rubbing his ears, I guess he wasn't, either. We soon got down to where the wind didn't hit so strong, and Doc started asking questions. When would the refugees start coming? Would Darlu Marc--Rog Tanlu's enemy--be among the first? "He may never come," said Rog Tanlu bitterly. "His purpose is to bleed the people, sell them passage to this paradise. That would enable him to live in comparative security and comfort back in Iralnard City for the remainder of his lifetime." I could see by the way he spoke that those half-million years separating him from this guy Marc were pretty galling on Rog Tanlu. We were moving slowly down toward that all-but-closed entrance, and now and then he would flash his light to show the way. "Here's a strange thought," said Doc Champ suddenly, as he stumbled along at my elbow. "Why can't we go up on that ledge and look through the Ice Stone from that direction? We ought to be able to see right into your laboratory, as it was a short time after you left, and find out what's going on." Rog Tanlu chuckled. "Of course," he agreed eagerly. "That's right where we're bound now. I've been hanging around there for nine days--watching. But so far--" A funny sound cut in on him--a sound coming from somewhere ahead. It was like a voice--a metallic voice--thin and clear. "_Rog Tanlu ... Rog Tanlu ... Rog Tan-lu._..." Then I saw something move, there in the shadows, and goose-pimples sprang out on me. For as the light glinted on that thing, I saw it wasn't human. "Eyoaoc Eiioiei!" cried Rog Tanlu. "He's come through--he has followed me!" [Illustration: _"Eyoaoc Eiioiei!" cried Rog Tanlu, "He's come through. He has followed me!"_] Did you ever see a dog frisk around someone he likes, someone he's been separated from for a long time? Then picture the dog as no dog at all, but a madhouse thing prancing on two jointed-metal legs, as thick as stovepipes, its eyes glinting ruby-red when they catch the light-- But the part that made cold shivers run up my back was the thing's head--a round globe from which those ruby eyes sparkled. That head wasn't attached in any visible manner to its short, squat body, but seemed to float, six inches above its shoulders, as if poised there by some magnetic force. All the while the thing was capering around Rog Tanlu, it was jabbering at him in some outlandish tongue, and he was jabbering back at it.