They let themselves be led along the metal Path. They sank wearily into the Machine cushions. They gazed back at the ruined Monster, the stagnating mound, where already strange reptilian birds and golden insects were busy at the steaming armour.

A sound on the floor of the Time Machine stiffened them.

Eckels sat there, shivering.

“I'm sorry,” he said at last.

“Get up!” cried Travis.

Eckels got up.

“Go out on that Path alone,” said Travis. He had his rifle pointed. “You're not coming back in the Machine. We're leaving you here!” Lesperance seized Travis' arm. “Wait” “Stay out of this!” Travis shook his hand away. “This son of a bitch nearly killed us. But it isn't that so much. Hell, no.

It's his shoes Look at them! He ran off the Path. My God, that ruins us I Christ knows how much we'll forfeit. Tens of thousands of dollars of insurance We guarantee no one leaves the Path. He left it. Oh, the damn fool! Ill have to report to the government. They might revoke our license to travel. God knows what he's done to Time, to History!” “Take it easy, all he did was kick up some dirt.” “How do we know?” cried Travis. “We don't know anything!

It's all a damn mystery! Get out there, Eckels!” Eckels fumbled his shirt. “Ill pay anything. A hundred thousand dollars!” Travis glared at Eckels' chequebook and spat. “Go out there. The Monster's next to the Path. Stick your arms up to your elbows in his mouth. Then you can come back with us.” “That's unreasonable!” “The Monsters dead, you yellow bastard. The bullets!

The bullets can't be left behind. They don't belong in the Past; they might change something. Here's my knife. Dig them out!” The jungle was alive again, full of the old tremorings and bird cries. Eckels turned slowly to regard that primeval garbage dump, that hill of nightmares and terror. After a long time, like a sleepwalker, he shuffled out along the Path.