Those lines converged at a point in a midtown block of the great city south of us, a block occupied by a single gigantic building whose aspiring tower was in sight of our laboratory's windows! For moments Ferson and I stared from chart to tower in silence, and then without words we had turned, seen to the filled magazines of the pistols at our belts, and were passing out of the laboratory into the bright sunlight. As silent as ever, we started southward. Never, were my existence extended a thousand years, could there be blotted from my memory that journey southward through the silent towers of New York that Ferson and I made then. For the great city that lay silent about us beneath the brilliant noon sunshine, was a city of horror unutterable. Dead lay thick in its streets and great dogs, already strange and fierce and wolf-like, ran in packs among them. The rusting wrecks of smashed automobiles were piled at every corner. No window of all we passed remained intact, sidewalks and streets were sprinkled with shivered glass. Westward across the river a great fire was burning in the cities there, pouring a black volume of flame-laced smoke up to the skies. But more terrible than all of these things were the hordes, the swarms of creatures that moved through the streets and ways about us, the countless creatures that once had been the city's people! Great ape-like creatures they were, not apes such as men had known, but ape-like races such as men had sprung from eons before. In groups and packs of scores they roamed the city's ways. Covered with thick hair, stooped and crouching of gait, the garments that they had worn as men torn and discarded, there was in them no semblance to humanity. They walked stiffly toward each other, stooping to rest hairy forearms on the ground each few steps. They growled and barked in rage, or chattered volubly and meaninglessly. The majority were prowling in wrecked stores for fragments of food. Others moved along the streets in a search for small animals, for insects even. Growling in rage their groups came toward Ferson and me as we moved onward, but each time a pistol-shot sent them fleeing from us. We moved on, never speaking, Ferson's face icy calm, my own brain reeling. We came at last to the base of the giant building that we knew must hold whatever mechanism Grant was using to withhold the evolution vibrations from the earth. Ferson turned to speak to me for the first time. "Somewhere in here," he whispered. "We must search, Harker----to find Grant's apparatus----" "And if he is with it?" I asked, but his only answer was to tighten his grip on the pistol in his hand.