off his face with a damp napkin. "Here!" cried the Very Young Man, thrusting forth the brandy. The Chemist drank a little of it. Then he sat up, evidently somewhat revived. "I seem to have stopped growing," he said. "Let's finish it up now. God! how I want to be the right size again," he added fervently. The Doctor helped him extract the vials from under his arm, and the Chemist touched one of the pills to his tongue. Then he sank back, closing his eyes. "I think that should be about enough," he murmured. No one spoke for nearly ten minutes. Gradually the Chemist's body grew, the Doctor shifting his position several times as it became larger. It seemed finally to have stopped growing, and was apparently nearly its former size. "Is he asleep?" whispered the Very Young Man. The Chemist opened his eyes. "No," he answered. "I'm all right now, I think." He rose to his feet, the Doctor and the Big Business Man supporting him on either side. "Sit down and tell us about it," said the Very Young Man. "Did you find the girl?" The Chemist smiled wearily. "Gentlemen, I cannot talk now. Let me have a bath and some dinner. Then I will tell you all about it." The Doctor rang for an attendant, and led the Chemist to the door, throwing a blanket around him as he did so. In the doorway the Chemist paused and looked back with a wan smile over the wreck of the room. "Give me an hour," he said. "And eat something yourselves while I am gone." Then he left, closing the door after him. When he returned, fully dressed in clothes that were ludicrously large for him, the room had been straightened up, and his four friends were finishing their meal. He took his place among them quietly and lighted a cigar. "Well, gentlemen, I suppose that you are interested to hear what happened to me," he began. The Very Young Man asked his usual question. "Let him alone," said the Doctor. "You will hear it all soon enough." "Was it all as you expected?" asked the Banker. It was his first remark since the Chemist returned.
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