As he spoke, the older man pulled down the upper half of the window. Then he drew the curtain down outside the glass, and into the room again below.
"All right," he said. "Break it, Fred."
Tenny rapped sharply against the glass of the upper pane. It did not break. He struck it harder with the trident from the work-bench. Still it did not break. Then he smashed into it with all his strength. The glass broke into incredibly small fragments that slithered down the drawn curtain to the floor.
Follansbee let the curtain snap up. Looking down, he and Tenny exclaimed simultaneously. The window lay in silver fragments on the carpet in the moonlight that stretched to the bed—but beyond the fragments ran a tiny dark shadow, of substance now.
"Good God!" breathed Follansbee hoarsely. "The dimensions didn't change!"
"It's Kroll," said Tenny. He swooped to seize hold of the figure on the carpet, but at that moment it disappeared under the bed. He sank to his knees. "Kroll!" he shouted. "Come out, Kroll!"
There was a vague scuttering noise beneath the bed.
Follansbee came to his knees at Tenny's side and peered into the moonlit dusk beneath the bed. "Kroll" he whispered softly. Turning abruptly, he said to Tenny, "Get over on the other side. He's skirting the wall toward the door."
Tenny moved to obey.
Then suddenly there came a quick rustle, a dark shadow launched itself from the wall upon the two-inch figure that crept toward the door, there was a shrill squeal, a tiny human scream, and abrupt, unnatural silence.