is not really an inhabitant of Atlantis who arrives

from his long voyage with this awful cargo of platitudes. Well, here we are!”

“I have to deliver this young lady safe and sound to her father,” said Malone. “Look here, Atkinson, don’t leave us. The Professor would really like to see you.”

“What, at this hour! Why, he would throw me down the stairs.”

“You’ve been hearing stories,” said Enid. “Really it is not so bad as that. Some people annoy him, but I am sure you are not one of them. Won’t you chance it?”

“With that encouragement, certainly.” And the three walked down the bright outer corridor to the lift.

Challenger, clad now in a brilliant blue dressing-gown, was eagerly awaiting them. He eyed Atkinson as a fighting bulldog eyes some canine stranger. The inspection seemed to satisfy him, however, for he growled that he was glad to meet him.

“I’ve heard of your name, sir, and of your rising reputation. Your resection of the cord last year made some stir, I understand. But have you been down among the lunatics also?”

“Well, if you call them so,” said Atkinson with a laugh.

“Good Heavens, what else could I call them? I remember now that my young friend here” (Challenger had a way of alluding to Malone as if he were a promising boy of ten) “ told me you were studying the subject.” He roared with offensive laughter. “‘The proper study of mankind is spooks,’ eh, Mr. Atkinson?”

“Dad really knows nothing about it, so don’t be