Chapter 12: Mysterious Little Golden Rock

I need not detail the aftermath of our emergence from the atom. Dr. Kent and Babs followed me out within a few moments. But Alan was not with them! He had seen Polter fall. His father and Babs were safe. The sacrifice he had made in leaving Glora was no longer needed.

Down there on the rocky plateau, Dr. Kent suddenly realized that Alan was dwindling.

“Father, I must! Don’t you understand? Glora’s world is menaced. I can’t leave her like this. My duty to you and Babs is ended. I did my best, Dad--you two are safe now.”

“Alan! My boy!”

He was already down at Dr. Kent’s waist, Bab’s size. He held up his hand. “Dad, good-by.” His rugged, youthful face was flushed, his voice choked. “You--you’ve been a mighty good father to me. Always.”

Babs flung her arms about him. “Alan, don’t!”

“But I must.” He smiled whimsically as he kissed her. “You wouldn’t want to leave George, would you? Never see him again? I’m not asking you to do that, am I?”

“But, Alan--”

“You’ve been a great little pal, Babs. I’ll never forget it.”

“Alan! You talk as though you were never coming back!”

“Do I? But of course I’m coming back!” He cast her off. “Babs, listen. Father’s upset. That’s natural. You tell him not to worry. I’ll be careful, and do what I can to save that little city. I must find Glora and--”

Babs was suddenly trembling with eagerness for him. “Yes! Of course you must, Alan!”

“Find her and bring her out here! I’ll do it! Don’t you worry.” He was dwindling fast. Dr. Kent had collapsed to a rock, staring down with horror-stricken eyes. Alan called up to Babs:

“Listen! Have George watch the chunk of gold-quartz. Have it guarded and watched day and night. Handle it carefully, Babs!”

“Yes! Yes! How long will you be gone, Alan?”

“Heavens--how do I know? But I’ll come back, don’t you worry. Maybe in only a day or two of your time.”

“Right! Good-by, Alan!”

“Good-by,” his tiny voice echoed up. “Good-by, Babs--Father!”

Babs could see his miniature face smiling up at her. She smiled back and waved her arm as he vanished into the pebbles at her feet.

The eyes of youth! They look ahead; they see all things so easily possible! But old Dr. Kent was sobbing.

It has broken Dr. Kent. A month now has passed. He seldom mentions Alan to Babs and me. But when he does, he tries to smile and say that Alan soon will return. He has been very ill this last week, though he is better now. He did not tell us that he was working to compound another supply of the drugs, but we knew it very well.

And his emotion, the strain of it, made him break. He was in bed a week. We are living in New York, quite near the Museum of the American Society for Scientific Research. In a room of the biological department there, the precious fragment of golden quartz lies guarded. A microscope is over it, and there is never a moment of the day or night without an alert, keen-eyed watcher peering down.

But nothing has appeared. Neither friend nor foe--nothing. I cannot say so to Babs, but often I fear that Dr. Kent will suddenly die, and the secret of his drugs die with him. I hinted once that I would make a trip into the atom if he would let me, but it excited him so greatly I had to laugh it off with the assurance that of course Alan will soon return safely to us. Dr. Kent is an old man now, unnaturally old, with, it seems, the full weight of eighty years pressing upon him. He cannot stand this emotion. I think he is despairingly summoning strength to work upon his drugs, fearful that he will not be equal to it. Yet more fearful to disclose the secret and unloose so diabolical a power.

There are nights when with Dr. Kent asleep, Babs and I slip away and go to the Museum. We dismiss the guard for a time, and in that private room we sit hand in hand by the microscope to watch. The fragment of golden quartz lies on its clean white slab with a brilliant light upon it.