METROPOLIS spokes of which appeared. in the whirl of revolution, as a single gleaming disc. This disc filled out the hack wall of the huilding, with its entire breadth and height. No machine in all Metropolis which did not receive its power from this heart.
One single lever controlled this marvel of steel. All the treasures of the world heaped up before him would not, for Grot. have outweighed this, his machine. When. at the grey hour of dawn. 'Grot heard the voice of the great Metropolis roaring, he glanced at the clock on the brow of the wall where was the door. and thought: "That's against all nature and regularity....n When, at the red hour of sunrise, Grot saw the stream of the multitude rolling along, twelve tiles deep, led by a girldancing to the rhythm of the yelling mob, Grot set the lever of the machine to "Safety," carefully closed the door of the building and waited. The mob thundered against his dOOf. "Oh-knock awayl" thought Gl"Ot. "That door can stand a good bit . .. ,» He looked at the machine. The wheel was spinning slowly, The beautiful spokes were playing, plainly to be seen. Grot nodded to his beautiful machine. They will not trouble us long," thought he. He waited for a signal from the New Tower of Babel. For a word from Joh Fredersen. The word did not come. "He knows," thought Grot, "that he can rely on me .. .n The door quaked like a giant drum. The mob burled itself, a living battering ram, against it. "There are rather a lot of them, it seems to me," though~ Grot. He looked at the door, it trembled, but it held. And it looked as though it would still hold for a long time. Grot nodded to himself in deep contentment. He would have loved to light his pipe, if only smoking had not been forbidden here. He heard the yelling of the mob, and rebound upon rebound against the singing door with a feeling of smug fierceness. He loved the door. It was his ally. He turned around aud looked at his machine. He nodded at it
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