succeed in winning a response from the other end of the line.

After several days of futile endeavor to raise Pellucidar, we had

be-gun to despair. I was as positive that the other end of that

little cable protruded through the surface of the inner world as

I am that I sit here today in my study--when about midnight of the

fourth day I was awakened by the sound of the instrument.

Leaping to my feet I grasped Downes roughly by the neck and dragged

him out of his blankets. He didn't need to be told what caused

my excitement, for the instant he was awake he, too, heard the

long-hoped for click, and with a whoop of delight pounced upon the

instrument.

Nestor was on his feet almost as soon as I. The three of us huddled

about that little box as if our lives depended upon the message it

had for us.

Downes interrupted the clicking with his sending-key. The noise

of the receiver stopped instantly.

"Ask who it is, Downes," I directed.

He did so, and while we awaited the Englishman's translation of

the reply, I doubt if either Nestor or I breathed.

"He says he's David Innes," said Downes. "He wants to know who we

are."

"Tell him," said I; "and that we want to know how he is--and all

that has befallen him since I last saw him."

For two months I talked with David Innes almost every day, and

as Downes translated, either Nestor or I took notes. From these,

arranged in chronological order, I have set down the following

account of the further adventures of David Innes at the earth's

core, practically in his own words.

CHAPTER I

LOST ON PELLUCIDAR

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