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The accident of my finding the message had probably not been chance at all, but rather an event planned and intended by Myles Cabot. He had hoaxed me, and I had passed on to the editor and to the unsuspecting general public, a mere faked-up yarn. Think what a position this would place me in, when the editor, who in good faith had accepted my story as a narrative of fact, should discover that Myles was not on Venus at all! Could I ever make any one believe I had been innocent of complicity in this hoax?

I was horrified, and my resentment flared up at my old friend.

“Where have you been all these years since you disappeared from home?” I asked accusingly.

“Why, you know perfectly well,” was his surprised reply, “for you published my account of it.”

“Then what on earth are you doing here?” I countered.

To which he enigmatically answered: “Great are the powers of radio.”

“Were you really on Venus?” I inquired, still incredulous.

“On my word of honor as a gentleman,” said he, solemnly.

So the story was true after all, and I had not been hoaxed. I heaved a sigh of relief.