"When," echoed the gloomy one.

"They were pigeons," Estelle explained. "They shouldn't be hard
to snare or trap."

"I usually have my dinner before now," the gloomy one protested,
"and I'm told I won't get anything to-night."

The other men began to straighten their shoulders. The peevishness
of one of their number seemed to bring out their latent courage.

"Well, we've got to stand it for the present," one of them said
almost philosophically. "What I'm most anxious about is getting
back. Have we any chance?"

Arthur nodded emphatically.

"I think so. I have a sort of idea as to the cause of our sinking
into the Fourth Dimension, and when that is verified, a corrective
can be looked for and applied."

"How long will that take?"

"Can't say," Arthur replied frankly. "I don't know what tools,
what materials, or what workmen we have, and what's rather more to
the point, I don't even know what work will have to be done. The
pressing problem is food."

"Oh, bother the food," some one protested impatiently. "I don't
care about myself. I can go hungry to-night. I want to get back to