The Ray Cummings MEGAPACK ®: 25 Golden Age Science Fiction and Mystery Tales. Ray Cummings
has it been now?” asked the latter.
“Just forty hours,” answered the Doctor; “and he said that forty-eight hours was the limit. He should come back at about ten tonight.”
“I wonder if he will come back,” questioned the Big Business Man nervously. “Lord, I wish he wouldn’t snore so loud,” he added irritably, nodding in the direction of the Banker.
They were silent for a moment, and then he went on: “You’d better try to sleep a little while, Frank. You’re worn out. I’ll watch here.”
“I suppose I should,” answered the Doctor wearily. “Wake up that kid, he’s sleeping most of the time.”
“No, I’ll watch,” repeated the Big Business Man. “You lie down over there.”
The Doctor did so while the other settled himself more comfortably on a cushion beside the handkerchief, and prepared for his lonely watching.
The Doctor apparently dropped off to sleep at once, for he did not speak again. The Big Business Man sat staring steadily at the ring, bending nearer to it occasionally. Every ten or fifteen minutes he looked at his watch.
Perhaps an hour passed in this way, when the Very Young Man suddenly sat up and yawned. “Haven’t they come back yet?” he asked in a sleepy voice.
The Big Business Man answered in a much lower tone. “What do you mean—they?”
“I dreamed that he brought the girl back with him,” said the Very Young Man.
“Well, if he did, they have not arrived. You’d better go back to sleep. We’ve got six or seven hours yet—maybe more.”
The Very Young Man rose and crossed the room. “No, I’ll watch a while,” he said, seating himself on the floor. “What time is it?”
“Quarter to three.”
“He said he’d be back by ten tonight. I’m crazy to see that girl.”
The Big Business Man rose and went over to a dinner-tray, standing near the door. “Lord, I’m hungry. I must have forgotten to eat today.” He lifted up one of the silver covers. What he saw evidently encouraged him, for he drew up a chair and began his lunch.
The Very Young Man lighted a cigarette. “It will be the tragedy of my life,” he said, “if he never comes back.”
The Big Business Man smiled. “How about his life?” he answered, but the Very Young Man had fallen into a reverie and did not reply.
The Big Business Man finished his lunch in silence and was just about to light a cigar when a sharp exclamation brought him hastily to his feet.
“Come here, quick, I see something.” The Very Young Man had his face close to the ring and was trembling violently.
The other pushed him back. “Let me see. Where?”
“There, by the scratch; he’s lying there; I can see him.”
The Big Business Man looked and then hurriedly woke the Doctor.
“He’s come back,” he said briefly; “you can see him there.” The Doctor bent down over the ring while the others woke up the Banker.
“He doesn’t seem to be getting any bigger,” said the Very Young Man; “he’s just lying there. Maybe he’s dead.”
“What shall we do?” asked the Big Business Man, and made as if to pick up the ring. The Doctor shoved him away. “Don’t do that!” he said sharply. “Do you want to kill him?”
“He’s sitting up,” cried the Very Young Man. “He’s all right.”
“He must have fainted,” said the Doctor. “Probably he’s taking more of the drug now.”
“He’s much larger,” said the Very Young Man; “look at him!”
The tiny figure was sitting sideways on the ring, with its feet hanging over the outer edge. It was growing perceptibly larger each instant, and in a moment it slipped down off the ring and sank in a heap on the handkerchief.
“Good Heavens! Look at him!” cried the Big Business Man. “He’s all covered with blood.”
The little figure presented a ghastly sight. As it steadily grew larger they could see and recognize the Chemist’s haggard face, his cheek and neck stained with blood, and his white suit covered with dirt.
“Look at his feet,” whispered the Big Business Man. They were horribly cut and bruised and greatly swollen.
The Doctor bent over and whispered gently, “What can I do to help you?” The Chemist shook his head. His body, lying prone upon the handkerchief, had torn it apart in growing. When he was about twelve inches in length he raised his head. The Doctor bent closer. “Some brandy, please,” said a wraith of the Chemist’s voice. It was barely audible.
“He wants some brandy,” called the Doctor. The Very Young Man looked hastily around, then opened the door and dashed madly out of the room. When he returned, the Chemist had grown to nearly four feet. He was sitting on the floor with his back against the Doctor’s knees. The Big Business Man was wiping the blood off his face with a damp napkin.
“Here!” cried the Very Young Man, thrusting forth the brandy. The Chemist drank a little of it. Then he sat up, evidently somewhat revived.
“I seem to have stopped growing,” he said. “Let’s finish it up now. God! how I want to be the right size again,” he added fervently.
The Doctor helped him extract the vials from under his arm, and the Chemist touched one of the pills to his tongue. Then he sank back, closing his eyes. “I think that should be about enough,” he murmured.
No one spoke for nearly ten minutes. Gradually the Chemist’s body grew, the Doctor shifting his position several times as it became larger. It seemed finally to have stopped growing, and was apparently nearly its former size.
“Is he asleep?” whispered the Very Young Man.
The Chemist opened his eyes.
“No,” he answered. “I’m all right now, I think.” He rose to his feet, the Doctor and the Big Business Man supporting him on either side.
“Sit down and tell us about it,” said the Very Young Man. “Did you find the girl?”
The Chemist smiled wearily.
“Gentlemen, I cannot talk now. Let me have a bath and some dinner. Then I will tell you all about it.”
The Doctor rang for an attendant, and led the Chemist to the door, throwing a blanket around him as he did so. In the doorway the Chemist paused and looked back with a wan smile over the wreck of the room.
“Give me an hour,” he said. “And eat something yourselves while I am gone.” Then he left, closing the door after him.
When he returned, fully dressed in clothes that were ludicrously large for him, the room had been straightened up, and his four friends were finishing their meal. He took his place among them quietly and lighted a cigar.
“Well, gentlemen, I suppose that you are interested to hear what happened to me,” he began. The Very Young Man asked his usual question.
“Let him alone,” said the Doctor. “You will hear it all soon enough.”
“Was it all as you expected?” asked the Banker. It was his first remark since the Chemist returned.
“To a great extent, yes,” answered the Chemist. “But I had better tell you just what happened.” The Very Young Man nodded his eager agreement.
“When I took those first four pills,” began the Chemist in a quiet, even tone, “my immediate sensation was a sudden reeling of the senses, combined with an extreme nausea. This latter feeling passed after a moment.
“You