At this time there had been no change in the moon's course or size visible to the naked eye. In the parts of the world where newspapers were printed and read, there had been the usual few lines on a back page that were given to any astronomical phenomenon, such as the birth of a Nova or the discovery of a telescopic comet.
Some days before, astronomers in Colorado and South Africa had simultaneously announced the aberration in the moon's motion. There were occasional facetious references to the moon's skittishness—emanating from the pens of bored columnists. The next day there was nothing new from the astronomers, but the third day there was an announcement that caused faint stirrings of anxiety among those who read between the lines.
It was on the fourth day that announcements were made in England and America on the joint authority of the Smithsonian Institution and the British Royal Society, that some unknown force had displaced the moon from its orbit, and that it was feared, though calculations were not yet complete, that it would collide with or at least brush the earth, resulting in a disaster of the first magnitude.
The formal announcement of the two scientific societies was broadcast that night, and I was reading the part of it that Jim had written down.
I still have that piece of paper. Even as I look at it to copy it here, I get again that thrill of horror, that for a moment paralyzed me that night.
OFFICIAL BULLETIN: Issued by the Smithsonian Institution of Washington, D. C., and the British Royal Society. Broadcast by all means possible. Recent aberrations of motion of the moon have been caused by its being thrown from its orbit by some unknown force. Incomplete calculations indicate that it will collide with the earth somewhere in the central Pacific region, on Thursday between eleven and twelve at night. It is believed that the disaster will be complete and there is no possible way of escape. Further bulletins will be issued every few hours and will be broadcast immediately. There is always the possibility that some force similar to the one which threw the moon from its orbit may again change its course. It is urged that all persons meet the crisis as calmly as possible.
"Well?" asked Jim eagerly, when I had finished reading it.
"If it's not a hoax, I guess it means we're done for," I said slowly. "Suppose we go over to the station and see what more comes in."
When we left the house I looked up at the moon, hanging full in the sky, and Jim's apprehensive glance followed mine. I imagined it was distinctly larger than usual and that it shone with a sinister orange-colored glow instead of its usual silvery light. It was probably not imagination, for people all over the world reported the same thing that night.
We entered the wireless house and Jim sat down with the receivers clamped to his ears. He began to take down a message which was coming in and when he had finished, handed it to me.