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Serviss, Garrett P. (Garrett Putman), 1851-1929

"The Moon Metal"


"They had better keep away from here," he whispered, with a ghastly
smile.
Two minutes! I could hear the beating of my heart. The engine shook
the floor.
Three minutes! Hall's face was wet with perspiration. The bird
blundered in and startled us again.
Four minutes! We were like statues, with all eyes fixed on the
polished ball of silver, which shone in the brilliant light
concentrated upon it by the mirror.
Five minutes! The shining ball had become a confused blue, and I
violently winked to clear my vision.
"At last! Thank God! Look! There it is!"
It was Hall who spoke, trembling like an aspen. The silver knob had
changed color. What seemed a miniature rainbow surrounded it, with
concentric circles of blinding brilliance.
Then something dropped flashing into an earthen dish set beneath the
ball! Another glittering drop followed, and, at a shorter interval,
another!
Almost before a word could be uttered the drops had coalesced and
become a tiny stream, which, as it fell, twisted itself into a bright
spiral, gleaming with a hundred shifting hues, and forming on the
bottom of the dish a glowing, interlacing maze of viscid rings and
circlets, which turned and twined about and over one another, until
they had blended and settled into a button-shaped mass of hot metallic
jelly.


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