III.
It was very still in the office. Except for the flickering outsideeverything seemed very much as usual. The electric light burnedsteadily, but Estelle was sobbing with fright and Arthur was tryingvainly to console her.
"Have I gone crazy?" she demanded between her sobs.
"Not unless I've gone mad, too," said Arthur soothingly. Theexcitement had quite a soothing effect upon him. He had ceased tofeel afraid, but was simply waiting to see what had happened. "We'reway back before the founding of New York now, and still goingstrong."
"Are you sure that's what has happened?"
"If you'll look outside," he suggested, "you'll see the seasonsfollowing each other in reverse order. One moment the snow coversall the ground, then you catch a glimpse of autumn foliage, thensummer follows, and next spring."
Estelle glanced out of the window and covered her eyes.
"Not a house," she said despairingly. "Not a building. Nothing,nothing, nothing!"
Arthur slipped, his arm about her and patted hers comfortingly.
"It's all right," he reassured her. "We'll bring up presently,and there we'll be. There's nothing to be afraid of."
She rested her head on his shoulder and sobbed hopelessly fora little while longer, but presently quieted. Then, suddenly,realizing that Arthur's arm was about her and that she was cryingon his shoulder, she sprang away, blushing crimson.
Arthur walked to the window.
"Look there!" he exclaimed, but it was too late. "I'll swear toit I saw the Half Moon, Hudson's ship," he declared excitedly."We're way back now, and don't seem to be slacking up, either."
Estelle came to the window by his side. The rapidly changing scenebefore her made her gasp. It was no longer possible to distinguishnight from day.
A wavering streak, moving first to the right and then to the left,showed where the sun flashed across the sky.
"What makes the sun wabble so?" she asked.
"Moving north and south of the equator," Arthur explainedcasually. "When it's farthest south--to the left--there's alwayssnow on the ground. When it's farthest right it's summer. See howgreen it is?"
A few moments' observation corroborated his statement.
"I'd say," Arthur remarked reflectively, "that it takes about fifteenseconds for the sun to make the round trip from farthest north tofarthest south." He felt his pulse. "Do you know the normal rateof the heart-beat? We can judge time that way. A clock will goall to pieces, of course."
"Why did your watch explode--and the clock?"
"Running forward in time unwinds a clock, doesn't it?" askedArthur. "It follows, of course, that when you move it backward intime it winds up. When you move it too far back, you wind it sotightly that the spring just breaks to pieces."
He paused a moment, his fingers on his pulse.
"Yes, it takes about fifteen seconds for all the four seasons topass. That means we're going backward in time about four years aminute. If we go on at this rate another hour we'll be back in thetime of the Northmen, and will be able to tell if they did discoverAmerica, after all."
"Funny we don't hear any noises," Estelle observed. She had caughtsome of Arthur's calmness.
"It passes so quickly that though our ears hear it, we don't separatethe sounds. If you'll notice, you do hear a sort of humming.It's very high-pitched, though."
Estelle listened, but could hear nothing.
"No matter," said Arthur. "It's probably a little higher than yourears will catch. Lots of people can't hear a bat squeak."
"I never could," said Estelle. "Out in the country, where I comefrom, other people could hear them, but I couldn't."
They stood a while in silence, watching.
"When are we going to stop?" asked Estelle uneasily. "It seems asif we're going to keep on indefinitely."
"I guess we'll stop all right," Arthur reassured her. "It's obviousthat whatever it was, only affected our own building, or we'd seesome other one with us. It looks like a fault or a flaw in the rockthe building rests on. And that can only give so far."
Estelle was silent for a moment.
"Oh, I can't be sane!" she burst out semihysterically. "This can'tbe happening!"
"You aren't crazy," said Arthur sharply. "You're sane as I am. Justsomething queer is happening. Buck up. Say your multiplicationtables. Say anything you know. Say something sensible and you'llknow you're all right. But don't get frightened now. There'll beplenty to get frightened about later."
The grimness in his tone alarmed Estelle.
"What are you afraid of?" she asked quickly.
"Time enough to worry when it happens," Arthur retorted briefly.
"You--you aren't afraid we'll go back before the beginning of theworld, are you?" asked Estelle in sudden access of fright.
Arthur shook his head.
"Tell me," said Estelle more quietly, getting a grip on herself. "Iwon't mind. But please tell me."
Arthur glanced at her. Her face was pale, but there was moreresolution in it than he had expected to find.
"I'll tell you, then," he said reluctantly. "We're going back alittle faster than we were, and the flaw seems to be a deeper onethan I thought. At the roughest kind of an estimate, we're all ofa thousand years before the discovery of America now, and I thinknearer three or four. And we're gaining speed all the time. So,though I am as sure as I can be sure of anything that we'll stopthis cave-in eventually, I don't know where. It's like a crevassein the earth opened by an earthquake which may be only a few feetdeep, or it may be hundreds of yards, or even a mile or two. Westarted off smoothly. We're going at a terrific rate. _What willhappen when we stop?_"
Estelle caught her breath.
"What?" she asked quietly.
"I don't know," said Arthur in an irritated tone, to cover hisapprehension. "How could I know?"
Estelle turned from him to the window again.
"Look!" she said, pointing.
The flickering had begun again. While they stared, hope springingup once more in their hearts, it became more pronounced. Soon theycould distinctly see the difference between day and night.
They were slowing up! The white snow on the ground remained therefor an appreciable time, autumn lasted quite a while. They couldcatch the flashes of the sun as it made its revolutions now,instead of its seeming like a ribbon of fire. At last day lastedall of fifteen or twenty minutes.
It grew longer and longer. Then half an hour, then an hour. Thesun wavered in midheaven and was still.
Far below them, the watchers in the tower of the skyscraper saw treesswaying and bending in the wind. Though there was not a house or ahabitation to be seen and a dense forest covered all of ManhattanIsland, such of the world as they could see looked normal. Whereveror rather in whatever epoch of time they were, they had arrived.
The Runaway Skyscraper Page 3