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Updated: June 27, 2025
He had tried to climb out but could not. He saw me and came lurching. We were a quarter of a mile from each other. I ran forward through a shifting scene of shrinking rock walls and crawling, contracting ground. Quarter of a mile? It seemed hardly more than a score of running strides before Polter loomed close ahead of me. He was still nearly twice my size.
He took Glora's hand and they walked in advance of me. "We haven't thanked you yet, Glora," he added. "Not needed. I came for help from your world. I followed the Dr. Polter when he came outward. He has made my world and my people, his slaves. I came for help. And because I have helped you, needs no thanks." "But we do thank you, Glora." Alan turned his flushed, earnest face back to me.
Then I realized that I was grimly tossing my head, shaking the blood away; and little by little my sight came back. Polter was on his feet, rushing me. His fist came with an upward swing at my chin, but I ducked. And suddenly, fighting up there in the open, my mind envisioned how gigantic we were!
"But I'm telling you we saw Polter this morning. He lives here not thirty miles from Quebec. We saw him on the Terrace after breakfast. Recognized him immediately of course." "Did he see you?" "I don't know. He was lost in the crowd in a minute. But I asked a young French fellow if he knew him. He did know him, as Frank Rascor. That must be the name he wears now.
Stanton is also thoughtful, but she is something more; she is sociable and kind, and talks to them all in a friendly way, just as if they were human beings; and she is something more than 'a real lady' she's 'a real nice lady. "Do you know Mrs. Polter at the fish-shop? What a fine-looking woman she is! Middle-aged, intelligent, and a very good specimen of her class, I should think.
I recognized both of them. And I strained at my bonds; mouthed the gag with futile, frenzied effort. I could no more than writhe; and I couldn't make a sound. I lay, after a moment exhausted, and stared with horror. The familiar hunched figure of Polter advanced toward the microscope. And with him, his huge hand holding her wrists, was Babs.
We clung to the lattice bars, our legs and arms entwined. There were moments when Polter leaped, or suddenly stooped, and our reeling senses all but faded. "Babs! Don't let go! Don't lose consciousness!" If she should be limp, here in this lurching room, her body to be flung back and forth across its confines that would be death in a moment.
Kent perhaps because Polter himself was not fully acquainted with the secret. And now, Polter up here with a fabulously rich "gold mine." And Babs, abducted by him, to be taken where? It set me shuddering. "That's what it was," Alan reiterated. "And Polter, here now with what he calls a 'mine. It isn't a mine, it's a laboratory! He's got father too, hidden God knows where! And now Babs.
As though his microscopic voice could reach me my head a hundred feet above him. But he screamed it again. This was all in a few horrible moments, though it seemed to the three watchers an eternity. Alan was helpless to aid me; they had taken all of the enlarging drug they had. Then they saw Polter cast me off.
I scurried back across the lurching room and again wedged myself under the couch. Babs stood at the lattice ten feet away. We dared to talk in low tones; the rumbling voices and footsteps outside would make our tiny voices inaudible to Polter. I was tense with my plans. I had told them to Babs.
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