else.

There was no doubt about it. For all that the doctor could tell by
watching the speaker's mouth, he might have been talking in Eskimo.
But his meaning was quite as clear as though he had said it in
English.

"We will begin with a picture of the sun herself." As the words were
spoken, a motion-picture film was projected on the screen. The
doctor instantly noted the natural colors, stereoscopic effect, and
marvelous clearness, such as branded this exhibition as not of the
earth. But the professor was saying:

"The sun controls, besides this world, no less than thirty
others"--and the doctor knew, as well as other people know their A B
C's, that the earth's planetary family consists of only eight--"no
less than thirty others, of which eight are now without life." The
speaker turned toward a student on the far left. "Tell us how many
of the thirty are still too hot to support life, Miss Ballens."

The girl did not get to her feet. "Ten," was her answer.

"Which leaves, of course, twelve besides our own planet which now
possess life in one form or another. Mr. Ernol, can you give us some
idea of conditions on any one of these?"

To the doctor's immense satisfaction, the brain whose loan he was
enjoying responded to the question. "On Saloni, the vertebrates have
not yet appeared. None but the lowest forms of life have been
found."