Page:Weird Tales Volume 9 Number 1 (1927-01).djvu/110

  who have written books on this subject. However, even though one does not always remember a dream, it is possible by continued concentration to recall the incidents which the 'censor' guards so carefully. Of course in many persons the 'censor' is not so alert, and these people dream all the time. There are two extremes of this class of people—the genius and the maniac. The difference between the two is that the first controls his dreams, while the second is controlled by his dream But I am wandering away from my subject. Always when speaking of psycho-analysis I say too much, and I fear in a great many instances I make of myself a dreadful bore. But I know you will pardon my digressing, especially since I am returning at once to my real subject.

"When I found that you remembered the dream in every detail and that your whole outlook on life had changed, I thought what a pity it would be not to let you meet the real girl of your dreams. So I did, and you know the result."

Randall Crane paused for a moment, then he said, "And now I am ready for your other question."

"I want to know how much I owe you," said Hugh whimsically. "Even yet you have not told me the price of my dreams."

It was a while before Randall Crane spoke, then he said fervently. "Just make my little girl happy. That will be pay enough."





HE transparent walls of the vessel revealed nothing below us but a blur of gray blackness. Above, shining here and there through brief breaks in the heavy clouds, twinkled the eternal stars.

We rested as much as possible under these strange conditions, so as to be prepared for our task with the coming of daylight. When the airship slackened speed and sank safely to ground, it was yet an hour to dawn. All we could see was that we had landed in a fairly open, fairly level space fringed with the spiky Red Weed.

"Now for the disguises," said Mark. "We big chaps will have to stoop and make ourselves as small as possible. A smear of brown stain on our faces and arms, plenty of wrinkles on our foreheads, and we ought to pass for dyed-in-the-wool savages. Whoop! Whiroo!"

Flourishing his spear, my once sedate and studious pal tried to execute a war-dance. Evidently the heavy 