"Tom Parker here?" Bert was surprised that the fastidious older brother should leave his comfortable city quarters and lose himself in this God-forsaken place. "Sure, I'll help, dear--if I can." "You can; oh, I'm sure you can," the girl went on tremulously. A spot of color flared in either cheek. "It's his experiments. He came over from New York about a year ago and rented this old house. The city laboratory wasn't secluded enough. And I've helped him until now in everything. But I'm frightened; he's playing with dangerous forces. He doesn't understand--won't understand. But I saw...." And then Joan Parker slumped into a high-backed chair that stood in the ancient paneled hall. Soft waves of her chestnut hair framed the pinched, terrified face, and wide eyes looked up at Bert, with the same horror he had seen in those of the old fellow the village. A surge of the old tenderness welled up in him and he wanted to take her in his arms. "Wait," she said, swiftly rising. "I'll let you judge for yourself. Here--go into the laboratory and talk with Tom." She pushed him forward and through a door that closed softly behind him. He was in a large room that was cluttered with the most bewildering array of electrical mechanisms he had ever seen. Joan had remained outside. * * * * * Tom Parker, his hair grayer and forehead higher than when Bert had seen him last, rose from where he was stooping over a work bench. He advanced, smiling, and his black eyes were alight with genuine pleasure. Bert had anticipated a less cordial welcome. "Albert Redmond!" exclaimed the older man. "This is a surprise. Glad to see you, boy, glad to see you." He meant it, Tom did, and Bert wrung the extended hand heartily. Yet he dared not tell of Joan's note. The two men had always been the very best of friends--except in the matter of Joan's future. "You haven't changed much," Bert ventured. Tom Parker laughed. "Not about Joan, if that is what you mean. She likes the work and will go far in it. Why, Bert--" "Sa-ay, wait a minute." Bert Redmond's mien was solemn. "I saw her outside, Tom, and was shocked. She isn't herself--doesn't look at all well. Haven't you noticed, man?" The older man sobered and a puzzled frown crossed his brow. "I have noticed, yes. But it's nonsense, Bert, I swear it is. She has been having dreams--worrying a lot, it seems. Guess I'll have to send her to the doctor?" "Dreams? Worry?" Bert thought of the old man called Gramp. "Yes. I'll tell you all about it--what we're working on here--and show you. It's no wonder she gets that way, I guess. I've been a bit loony with the marvel of it myself at times. Come here." Tom led him to an intricate apparatus which bore some resemblance to a television radio. There were countless vacuum tubes and their controls, tiny motors belted to slotted disks that would spin when power was applied, and a double eyepiece.