There had occurred to me from the first, the interesting question, what the business could be that would impose such a long and fatiguing journey on the Professor as a visit to Mars; I remembered the evasive reply he gave me when asked in regard to the great scheme for the abduction of that planet. I presume it was the tension on my mind, relating to this subject, that gave him an inkling telepathically of my wish to learn more of this great scheme and led him to pause and comply as related above. As to their ability to work out so vast an enterprise; it may be doubted. When Mars is in a direct line between Jupiter and the Sun, if they could give it a vigorous repulsory push from Jupiter while the sun’s attraction remains in activity, both his orbit and time would approximate those of the Earth. It might take several such repulsory pushes to secure the degree of conformity required for the adjustment of the three orbits—Moon, Mars and Earth. There is no denying the imminent risk to be incurred even by such experts as our Lunarians, in handling three bulky globes in such close proximity, for it is not Mars alone that will be involved in any change that may be brought about; but all three. It will prove a much greater contract than handling Deimos and Phobos.
These thoughts passed rapidly through my brain, while the Professor after another hasty inspection of his car, suddenly stepped inside and closed the door, fastening it with clamps like the rest. While he was doing this I eagerly inquired if he would not meet me again sometime and resume the story of my race in the far future beyond the one hundredth millennium.
He nodded his head affirmatively with a most benignant smile of his great kindly eyes, and said something I could only partially understand—“I will meet you here August — 9 — — —,” something preceded and something followed the nine, but I cannot tell what. The nine probably refers to the year—but nine occurs in every remaining year of this century, and in every one of the next. He waved his hand to me, then reached forward from his seat in the back of the car touched a button—or something—and began at once to rise, rather rapidly from the first, and increasing in speed so fast that the car as I gazed after it, dwindled with wonderful rapidity and soon went out. Before he shut himself in his car I had instinctively taken off my hat, and I stood there holding it in my hand, but without sufficient presence of mind to frame an appropriate farewell. The fact is, his personality was overpowering and in his presence—I speak only for myself—one felt small and insignificant.
“Well! can you make it out?” The words startled me and looking up I saw Allan Ocheltree standing before me with a bucket of water in his hand. I could not realize for a few moments where I was. Looking down I saw in my hands the stake with the red blotches on that I had tried to read before I met the Professor. But that was long ago. I had but little idea how long, but it must have been tedious for Allan during the long period I was interviewing the Professor. I wondered how he had occupied himself, and why he had not disturbed the interview—though I was exceedingly grateful that he had not. Perhaps he had seen the Professor himself. I asked him.
“What are you giving me?” said he, “I have seen no professor.”
“But he has only this moment left me, perhaps he is still in sight,” said I, and I at once turned an eager gaze toward the sky overhead and directly descried a small black speck. “There! what’s that—I believe that’s the Professor.”
“That,” said Allan coolly, “is a crane, you can see it moving toward the east. It is going home to Crane Island. What’s the matter, are you dreaming?”
I briefly explained.
“Well,” said Allan, “you must have fallen into a doze and got to dreaming. Don’t give yourself any worry about the way I have put in the time, I have been very agreeably occupied getting this bucket of water.”
“Do you mean to say,” said I, “that all this interview has taken only”—