her duties.
"Miss Woodward," he repeated, "I said I think I'll never make a
successful man. Do you know what that means?"
She looked at him mutely, polite inquiry in her eyes.
"It means," he said gravely, "that I'm going broke. Unless something
turns up in the next three weeks, or a month at the latest, I'll have to get
a job."
"And that means--" she asked.
"All this will go to pot," he explained with a sweeping gesture. "I
thought I'd better tell you as much in advance as I could."
"You mean you're going to give up your office--and me?" she asked, a
little alarmed.
"Giving up you will be the harder of the two," he said with a smile,
"but that's what it means. You'll have no difficulty finding a new place,
with three weeks in which to look for one, but I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, too, Mr. Chamberlain," she said, her brow puckered.
She was not really frightened, because she knew she could get another
position, but she became aware of rather more regret than she had
expected.
There was silence for a moment.
"Jove!" said Arthur, suddenly. "It's getting dark, isn't it?"
It was. It was growing dark with unusual rapidity. Arthur went to his
window, and looked out.
"Funny," he remarked in a moment or two. "Things don't look just right,
down there, somehow. There are very few people about."
He watched in growing amazement. Lights came on in the streets
below, but none of the buildings lighted up. It grew darker and darker.
"It shouldn't be dark at this hour!" Arthur exclaimed.
Estelle went to the window by his side.
"It looks awfully queer," she agreed. "It must be an eclipse or
something."
They heard doors open in the hall outside, and Arthur ran out. The halls
were beginning to fill with excited people.
"What on earth's the matter?" asked a worried stenographer.
"Probably an eclipse," replied Arthur. "Only it's odd we didn't read
about it in the papers."
He glanced along the corridor. No one else seemed better informed
than he, and he went back into his office.
Estelle turned from the window as he appeared.
"The streets are deserted," she said in a puzzled tone. "What's the
matter? Did you hear?"
Arthur shook his head and reached for the telephone.
"I'll call up and find out," he said confidently. He held the receiver to
his ear. "What the--" he exclaimed. "Listen to this!"
A small-sized roar was coming from the receiver. Arthur hung up and
turned a blank face upon Estelle.
"Look!" she said suddenly, and pointed out of the window.
All the city was now lighted up, and such of the signs as they could see
were brilliantly illumined. They watched in silence. The streets once
more seemed filled with vehicles. They darted along, their headlamps
lighting up the roadway brilliantly. There was, however, something
strange even about their motion. Arthur and Estelle watched in growing
amazement and perplexity.
"Are--are you seeing what I am seeing?" asked Estelle breathlessly. "I
see them going backward!"
Arthur watched, and collapsed into a chair.
"For the love of Mike!" he exclaimed softly.
II.
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
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