Better to make no rise at all, Hal's brain told him dully. After this hurrah of advertised excitement, a ground rise would be a flat fall for any interest whatever in the gyroscope. He was suddenly terribly tired. He'd been all of a million years without sleep, it seemed. He'd made a vast effort to get here--for nothing! Nobody'd be interested in the gyroscope anymore. And the Wiljohn Works needed the uplift of that gyroscope success, had banked on it. Mother and Uncle Tel--what was he going to do about them? He'd counted on making them comfortable out of this success. And now success had slipped from his grasp--his plans all gummed up by the foolish mistake of some workmen.