by E. J. Liston
whirled on the other. "Don't be afool!" he spat. "Do you think we're alive?"
"Rip Van Winkle was," Jenkins said, cryptically. "And I think we are,too."
"He is quite right, my friend," Loti said, as he stepped up to them. "Ican send you back, both of you, back to the time and place of yourleavetaking. This instant...."
* * * * *
Jenkins felt a wave of blackness wash over him, a terrible wrenching athis innards, and a sudden thrust. He opened his eyes and looked about.There was a pain in his left shoulder, and he could feel a stickywetness running down his arm. Griffin stood before him, and in Griffin'seyes was a dazed look. Behind Griffin, the door to the pilot's cabinswung crazily. Before Griffin knew what hit him, Jenkins had leaped uponhim. It took one blow, a terrific hook to the man's jaw, and Griffinslumped to the floor.
"What happened?" Jenkins asked as the stewardess bandaged his shoulderwhere Griffin's shot had caught him.
"Why," she said, "he shot, you went backward. Then, and it's the onlyway I can describe it, you both seemed to freeze up for an instant. Thenext thing I knew, you had recovered and the fight was over."
But Jenkins knew better. He knew that in those few seconds, space andtime had changed for himself and Griffin, and it was a lucky bowlingmatch which had brought them back.
