CHAPTER XIV

A Very Human Princess

That night in 1777 near the home of the murdered Major Atwood brought

to Larry the most strangely helpless feeling he had ever experienced.

He crouched with Tina beneath a tree in a corner of the field, gazing

with horror at the little moonlit space by the fence where their

Time-traveling vehicle should have been but now was gone.

Marooned in 1777! Larry had not realized how desolately remote this

Revolutionary New York was from the great future city in which he had

lived. The same space; but what a gulf between him and 1935! What a

barrier of Time, impassable without the shining cage!

They crouched, whispering. "But why would he have gone, Tina?"

"I don't know. Harl is very careful; so something or someone must have

passed along here, and he left, rather than cause a disturbance. He

will return, of course."

"I hope so," whispered Larry fervently. "We are marooned here, Tina!

Heavens, it would be the end of us!"

"We must wait. He will return."

They huddled in the shadow of the tree. Behind them there was a

continued commotion at the Atwood home, and presently the mounted

British officers came thudding past on the road, riding for

headquarters at the Bowling Green to report the strange Atwood murder.

The night wore on. Would Harl return? If not to-night, then probably

to-morrow, or to-morrow night. In spite of his endeavor to stop

correctly, he could so easily miss this night, these particular hours.

Harl had met his death, as I have described. We never knew exactly

what he did, of course, after leaving that night of 1777. It seems

probable, however, that some passer-by startled him into flashing away

into Time. Then he must have seen with his instrument evidence of the

other cage passing, and impulsively followed it--to his death in the

burned forest of the year 762.

* * * * *

Larry and Tina waited. The dawn presently began paling the stars; and

still Harl did not come. The little space by the fence corner was

empty.

"It will soon be daylight," Larry whispered. "We can't stay here:

we'll be discovered."

They were anachronisms in this world; misfits; futuristic beings who

dared not show themselves.

Larry touched his companion--the slight little creature who was a

Princess in her far-distant future age. But to Larry now she was just

a girl.

"Frightened, Tina?"

"A little."

He laughed softly. "It would be fearful to be marooned here

permanently, wouldn't it? You don't think Harl would desert us?

Purposely, I mean?"

"No, of course not."

"Then we'll expect him to-morrow night. He wouldn't stop in the

daylight, I guess."

"I don't think so. He would reason that I would not expect him."

"Then we must find shelter, and food, and be here to-morrow night. It

seems long to us, Tina, but in the cage it's just an instant--just a

trifle different setting of the controls."

She smiled her pale, stern smile. "You have learned quickly, Larry.

That is true."

A sudden emotion swept him. His hand found hers; and her fingers

answered the pressure of his own. Here in this remote Time-world they

felt abruptly drawn together.

He murmured, "Tina, you are--" But he never finished.

The cage was coming! They stood tense, watching the fence corner

where, in the flat dawn light, the familiar misty shadow was

gathering. Harl was returning to them.

The cage flashed silently into being. They stood peering, ready to run

to it. The door slid aside.

* * * * *

But it was not Harl who came out. It was Tugh, the cripple. He stood

in the doorway, a thick-set, barrel-chested figure of a man in a wide

leather jacket, a broad black belt and short flaring leather

pantaloons.

"Tugh!" exclaimed Tina.

The cripple advanced. "Princess, is it you?" He was very wary. His

gaze shot at Larry and back to Tina. "And who is this?"

A hideously repulsive fellow, Larry thought this Tugh. He saw his

shriveled, bent legs, crooked hips, and wide thick shoulders set

askew--a goblin, in a leather jerkin. His head was overlarge, with a

bulging white forehead and a mane of scraggly black hair shot with

grey. But Larry could not miss the intellectuality marking his

heavy-jowled face; the keenness of his dark-eyed gaze.

These were instant impressions. Tina had drawn Larry forward. "Where

is Harl?" she demanded imperiously. "How have you come to have the

cage, Tugh?"

"Princess, I have much to tell," he answered, and his gaze roved the

field. "But it is dangerous here; I am glad I have found you. Harl

sent me to this night, but I struck it late. Come, Tina--and your

strange-looking friend."

It impressed Larry then, and many times afterward, that Tugh's gaze at

him was mistrustful, wary.

"Come, Larry," said Tina. And again she demanded of Tugh, "I ask you,

where is Harl?"

"At home. Safe at home, Princess." He gestured toward Major Atwood's

house, which now in the growing daylight showed more plainly under its

shrouding trees. "That space off there holds our other cage as you

know, Tina. You and Harl were pursuing that other cage?"

"Yes," she agreed.

* * * * *

They had stopped at the doorway, where Tugh stood slightly inside.

Larry whispered:

"What does this mean, Tina?"

Tugh said, "Migul, the mechanism, is running wild in the other cage.

But you and Harl knew that?"

"Yes," she answered, and said softly to Larry, "We will go. But,

Larry, watch this Tugh! Harl and I never trusted him."

Tugh's manner was a combination of the self-confidence of a man of

standing and the deference due his young Princess. He was closing the

door, and saying:

"Migul, that crazy, insubordinate machine, captured a man from 1935

and a girl from 1777. But they are safe: he did not harm them. Harl is

with them."

"In our world, Tugh?"

"Yes; at home. And we have Migul chained. Harl captured and subdued

him."

Tugh was at the controls. "May I take you and this friend of yours

home, Princess?"

She whispered to Larry, "I think it is best, don't you?"

Larry nodded.

She murmured, "Be watchful, Larry!" Then, louder: "Yes, Tugh. Take

us."

Tugh was bending over the controls.

"Ready now?"

"Yes," said Tina.

Larry's senses reeled momentarily as the cage flashed off into Time.

* * * * *

It was a smooth story which Tugh had to tell them; and he told it

smoothly. His dark eyes swung from Tina to Larry.

"I talked with that other young man from your world. George Rankin, he

said his name was. He is somewhat like you: dressed much the same and

talks little. The girl calls herself Mary Atwood." He went on and told

them an elaborate, glib story, all of which was a lie. It did not

wholly deceive Larry and Tina, yet they could not then prove it false.

The gist of it was that Mary and I were with Harl and the subdued

Migul in 2930.

"It is strange that Harl did not come for us himself," said Tina.

Tugh's gaze was imperturbable as he answered. "He is a clever young

man, but he cannot be expected to handle these controls with my skill,

Princess, and he knows it; so he sent me. You see, he wanted very much

to strike just this night and this hour, so as not to keep you

waiting."

He added, "I am glad to have you back. Things are not well at home,

Princess. This insubordinate adventure of Migul's has been bad for the

other mechanisms. News of it has spread, and the revolt is very near.

What we are to do I cannot say, but I do know we did not like your

absence."

The trip which Larry and Tina now took to 2930 A.D. consumed, to their

consciousness of the passing of Time, some three hours. They

discovered that they were hungry, and Tugh produced food and drink.

Larry spent much of the time with Tina at the window, gazing at the

changing landscape while she told him of the events which to her were

history--the recorded things on the Time-scroll which separated her

world and his.

* * * * *

Tugh busied himself about the vehicle and left them much to

themselves. They had ample opportunity to discuss him and his story of

Harl. It must be remembered that Larry had no knowledge of Tugh, save

the story which Alten had told of a cripple named Tugh in New York in

1933-34; and Mary Atwood's mention of the coincidence of the Tugh she

knew in 1777.

But Tina had known this Tugh for years. Though she, like Harl, had

never liked him, nevertheless he was a trusted and influential man in

her world. Proof of his activities in other Time-worlds, there was

none so far, from Tina's viewpoint. Nor did Larry and Tina know as yet

of the devastation of New York in 1935; nor of the murder of Major

Atwood. The capture of Mary and me, the fight with the Robot in the

back yard of the house on Patton Place--in all these incidents of the

bandit cage, only Migul had figured. Migul--an insubordinate, crazy

mechanism running amuck.

Yet upon Larry and Tina was a premonition that Tugh, here with them

now and so suavely friendly, was their real enemy.

"I wouldn't trust him," Larry whispered, "any further than I can see

him. He's planning something, but I don't know what."

"But perhaps--and this I have often thought, Larry--perhaps it is his

aspect. He looks so repulsive--"

Larry shook his head. "He does, for a fact; but I don't mean that.

What Mary Atwood told me of the Tugh she knew, described the fellow.

And so did Alten describe him. And in 1934 he murdered a girl: don't

forget that, Tina--he, or someone who looked remarkably like him, and

had the same name."

But they knew that the best thing they could do now was to get to

2930. Larry wanted to join me again, and Tugh maintained I was there.

Well, they would soon find out....

* * * * *

As they passed the shadowy world of 1935, a queer emotion gripped

Larry. This was his world, and he was speeding past it to the future.

He realized then that he wanted to be assured of my safety, and that

of Mary Atwood and Harl; but what lay closest to his heart was the

welfare of the Princess Tina. Princess? He never thought of her as

that, save that it was a title she carried. She seemed just a small,

strangely-solemn white-faced girl. He could not conceive returning to

his own world and having her speed on, leaving him forever.

His thoughts winged ahead. He touched Tina as they stood together at

the window gazing out at the shadowy New York City. It was now 1940.

"Tina," he said, "if our friends are safe in your world--"

"If only they are, Larry!"

"And if your people there are in trouble, in danger--you will let me

help?"

She turned abruptly to regard him, and he saw a mist of tenderness in

the dark pools of her eyes.

"In history, Larry, I have often been interested in reading of a

strange custom outgrown by us and supposed to be meaningless. Yet

maybe it is not. I mean--"

She was suddenly breathless. "I mean even a Princess, as they call me,

likes to--to be human. I want to--I mean I've often wondered--and

you're so dear--I want to try it. Was it like this? Show me."

She reached up, put her arms about his neck and kissed him!