Three Martian-duped Earth-men swing open the gates of space that for so long had barred the greedy hordes of the Red Planet. “To Mars!” he repeated. “Have you gone crazy, Milton—or is this some joke you’ve put up with Lanier and Nelson here?” Milton shook his head gravely. “It is not a joke, Allan. Lanier and I are actually going to flash out over the gulf to the planet Mars to-night. Nelson must stay here, and since we wanted three to go I wired you as the most likely of my friends to make the venture.” “But good God!” Randall exploded, rising. “You, Milton, as a physicist ought to know better. Space-ships and projectiles and all that are but fictionists’ dreams.” “We are not going in either space-ship or projectile,” said Milton calmly. And then as he saw his friend’s bewilderment he rose and led the way to a door at the room’s end, the other three following him into the room beyond.