He was roused by another exclamation from Estelle.
"It's getting light again," she said.
Arthur rose and went eagerly to the window. The darkness was
becoming less intense, but in a way Arthur could hardly credit.
Far to the west, over beyond the Jersey hills--easily visible from
the height at which Arthur's office was located--a faint light
appeared in the sky, grew stronger and then took on a reddish
tint. That, in turn, grew deeper, and at last the sun appeared,
rising unconcernedly _in the west_.
Arthur gasped. The streets below continued to be thronged with
people and motor-cars. The sun was traveling with extraordinary
rapidity. It rose overhead, and as if by magic the streets
were thronged with people. Every one seemed to be running
at top-speed. The few teams they saw moved at a breakneck
pace--backward! In spite of the suddenly topsyturvy state of
affairs there seemed to be no accidents.
Arthur put his hands to his head.
"Miss Woodward," he said pathetically, "I'm afraid I've gone
crazy. Do you see the same things I do?"
Estelle nodded. Her eyes wide open.
"What _is_ the matter?" she asked helplessly.
She turned again to the window. The square was almost empty once
more. The motor-cars still traveling about the streets were going so
swiftly they were hardly visible. Their speed seemed to increase
steadily. Soon it was almost impossible to distinguish them,
and only a grayish blur marked their paths along Fifth Avenue and
Twenty-Third Street.
It grew dusk, and then rapidly dark. As their office was on the
western side of the building they could not see that the sun had
sunk in the east, but subconsciously they realized that this must
be the case.
In silence they watched the panorama grow black except for the
street-lamps, remain thus for a time, and then suddenly spring into
brilliantly illuminated activity.
Again this lasted for a little while, and the west once more began
to glow. The sun rose somewhat more hastily from the Jersey hills
and began to soar overhead, but very soon darkness fell again. With
hardly an interval the city became illuminated, and then the west
grew red once more.
"Apparently," said Arthur, steadying his voice with a conscious
effort, "there's been a cataclysm somewhere, the direction of
the earth's rotation has been reversed, and its speed immensely
increased. It seems to take only about five minutes for a rotation
now."
As he spoke darkness fell for the third time. Estelle turned from
the window with a white face.
"What's going to happen?" she cried.
"I don't know," answered Arthur. "The scientist fellows tell us
if the earth were to spin fast enough the centrifugal force would
throw us all off into space. Perhaps that's what's going to happen."
Estelle sank into a chair and stared at him, appalled. There was a
sudden explosion behind them. With a start, Estelle jumped to her
feet and turned. A little gilt clock over her typewriter-desk lay
in fragments. Arthur hastily glanced at his own watch.
"Great bombs and little cannon-balls!" he shouted. "Look at this!"
His watch trembled and quivered in his hand. The hands were going
around so swiftly it was impossible to watch the minute-hand,
and the hour-hand traveled like the wind.
While they looked, it made two complete revolutions. In one of
them the glory of daylight had waxed, waned, and vanished. In the
other, darkness reigned except for the glow from the electric
light overhead.
There was a sudden tension and catch in the watch. Arthur dropped
it instantly. It flew to pieces before it reached the floor.
"If you've got a watch," Arthur ordered swiftly, "stop it this
instant!"
Estelle fumbled at her wrist. Arthur tore the watch from her hand
and threw open the case. The machinery inside was going so swiftly
it was hardly visible; Relentlessly, Arthur jabbed a penholder in
the works. There was a sharp click, and the watch was still.
Arthur ran to the window. As he reached it the sun rushed up, day
lasted a moment, there was darkness, and then the sun appeared again.
"Miss Woodward!" Arthur ordered suddenly, "look at the ground!"
Estelle glanced down. The next time the sun flashed into view
she gasped.
The ground was white with snow!
"What _has_ happened?" she demanded, terrified. "Oh, what _has_
happened?"
Arthur fumbled at his chin awkwardly, watching the astonishing
panorama outside. There was hardly any distinguishing between
the times the sun was up and the times it was below now, as the
darkness and light followed each other so swiftly the effect was
the same as one of the old flickering motion-pictures.
As Arthur watched, this effect became more pronounced. The tall
Fifth Avenue Building across the way began to disintegrate. In a
moment, it seemed, there was only a skeleton there. Then that
vanished, story by story. A great cavity in the earth appeared,
and then another building became visible, a smaller, brown-stone,
unimpressive structure.
With bulging eyes Arthur stared across the city. Except for the
flickering, he could see almost clearly now.
He no longer saw the sun rise and set. There was merely a streak of
unpleasantly brilliant light across the sky. Bit by bit, building
by building, the city began to disintegrate and become replaced
by smaller, dingier buildings. In a little while those began to
disappear and leave gaps where they vanished.
Arthur strained his eyes and looked far down-town. He saw a forest
of masts and spars along the waterfront for a moment and when
he turned his eyes again to the scenery near him it was almost
barren of houses, and what few showed were mean, small residences,
apparently set in the midst of farms and plantations.
Estelle was sobbing.
"Oh, Mr. Chamberlain," she cried. "What is the matter? What has
happened?"
Arthur had lost his fear of what their fate would be in his
absorbing interest in what he saw. He was staring out of the window,
wide-eyed, lost in the sight before him. At Estelle's cry, however,
he reluctantly left the window and patted her shoulder awkwardly.
"I don't know how to explain it," he said uncomfortably, "but it's
obvious that my first surmise was all wrong. The speed of the earth's
rotation can't have been increased, because if it had to the extent
we see, we'd have been thrown off into space long ago. But--have
you read anything about the Fourth Dimension?"
Estelle shook her head hopelessly.
"Well, then, have you ever read anything by Wells? The 'Time
Machine,' for instance?"
Again she shook her head.
"I don't know how I'm going to say it so you'll understand, but
time is just as much a dimension as length and breadth. From what I
can judge, I'd say there has been an earthquake, and the ground has
settled a little with our building on it, only instead of settling
down toward the center of the earth, or side-wise, it's settled in
this fourth dimension."
"But what does that mean?" asked Estelle uncomprehendingly.
"If the earth had settled down, we'd have been lower. If it had
settled to one side, we'd have been moved one way or another, but as
it's settled back in the Fourth Dimension, we're going back in time."
"Then--"
"We're in a runaway skyscraper, bound for some time back before
the discovery of America!"