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 STORIES

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VOL. IV, No. 1 CONTENTS OCTOBER, 1930

COVER DESIGN H. W. WESSOLOWSKI

 _Painted in Oils from a Scene in "The Invisible Death. "_

STOLEN BRAINS CAPTAIN S. P. MEEK 7

 _Dr. Bird, Scientific Sleuth Extraordinary, Goes After a Sinister Stealer of Brains. _

THE INVISIBLE DEATH VICTOR ROUSSEAU 24

 _With Night-Rays and Darkness-Antidote America Strikes Back, at the Terrific and Destructive Invisible Empire. _ (A Complete Novelette. )

PRISONERS ON THE ELECTRON ROBERT H. LEITFRED 75

 _Fate Throws Two Young Earthians into Desperate Conflict with the Primeval Monsters of an Electron's Savage Jungles. _

JETTA OF THE LOWLANDS RAY CUMMINGS 94

 _Into Remote Lowlands, in an Invisible Flyer, Go Grant and Jetta--Prisoners of a Scientific Depth Bandit. _ (Part Two of a Three-Part Novel. )

AN EXTRA MAN JACKSON GEE 118

 _Sealed and Vigilantly Guarded Was "Drayle's Invention, 1932"--for It Was a Scientific Achievement Beyond Which Man Dared Not Go. _

THE READERS' CORNER ALL OF US 130

 _A Meeting Place for Readers of Astounding Stories. _

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Issued monthly by Publishers' Fiscal Corporation, 80 Lafayette St. , New York, N. Y. W. M. Clayton, President; Nathan Goldmann, Secretary. Entered as second-class matter December 7, 1929, at the Post Office atNew York, N. Y. , under Act of March 3, 1879. Title registered as aTrade Mark in the U. S. Patent Office. Member Newsstand Group--Men'sList. For advertising rates address E. R. Crowe & Co. , Inc. , 25Vanderbilt Ave. , New York; or 225 North Michigan Ave. , Chicago. 

Stolen Brains

_By Captain S. P. Meek_

[Illustration: _Two long arms shot silently down and grasped themotionless figure. _]

[Sidenote: Dr. Bird, scientific sleuth extraordinary, goes after asinister stealer of brains. ]

"I hope, Carnes, " said Dr. Bird, "that we get good fishing. "

"Good fishing? Will you please tell me what you are talking about?"

"I am talking about fishing, old dear. Have you seen the eveningpaper?"

"No. What's that got to do with it?"

Dr. Bird tossed across the table a copy of the _Washington Post_folded so as to bring uppermost an item on page three. Carnes saw hispicture staring at him from the center of the page. 

"What the dickens?" he exclaimed as he bent over the sheet. Withgrowing astonishment he read that Operative Carnes of the UnitedStates Secret Service had collapsed at his desk that afternoon and hadbeen rushed to Walter Reed Hospital where the trouble had beendiagnosed as a nervous breakdown caused by overwork. There followed aguarded statement from Admiral Clay, the President's personalphysician, who had been called into conference by the armyauthorities. 

The Admiral stated that the Chief of the Washington District was in noimmediate danger but that a prolonged rest was necessary. The papergave a glowing tribute to the detective's life and work and statedthat he had been given sick leave for an indefinite period and that hewas leaving at once for the fishing lodge of his friend, Dr. Bird ofthe Bureau of Standards, at Squapan Lake, Maine. Dr. Bird, the articleconcluded, would accompany and care for his stricken friend. Carneslaid aside the paper with a gasp. 

 * * * * *

"Do you know what all this means?" Carnes demanded. 

"It means, Carnsey, old dear, that the fishing at Squapan Lake shouldbe good right now and that I feel the need of accurate information onthe subject. I didn't want to go alone, so I engineered this outrageon the government and am taking you along for company. For the love ofMike, look sick from now on until we are clear of Washington. We leaveto-night. I already have our tickets and reservations and all you haveto do is to collect your tackle and pack your bags for a month or twoin the woods and meet me at the Pennsy station at six to-night. "

"And yet there are some people who say there is no Santa Claus, " musedCarnes. "If I had really broken down from overwork, I would probablyhave had my pay docked for the time I was absent, but a man withofficial pull in this man's government wants to go fishing and presto!the wheels move and the way is clear. Doctor, I'll meet you asdirected. "

"Good enough, " said Dr. Bird. "By the way, Carnes, " he went on as theoperative opened the door, "bring your pistol. "

Carnes whirled about at the words. 

"Are we going on a case?" he asked. 

"That remains to be seen, " replied the Doctor enigmatically. "At allevents, bring your pistol. In answer to any questions, we are goingfishing. In point of fact, we are--with ourselves as bait. If you havea little time to spare this afternoon you might drop around to theoffice of the _Post_ and get them to show you all the amnesia casesthey have had stories on during the past three months. They will beinteresting reading. No more questions now, old dear, we'll have lotsof time to talk things over while we are in the Maine woods. "

 * * * * *

Late the next evening they left the Bangor and Aroostook train atMesardis and found a Ford truck waiting for them. Over a rough trailthey were driven for fifteen miles, winding up at a log cabin whichthe Doctor announced was his. The truck deposited their belongings andjounced away and Dr. Bird led the way to the cabin, which proved to beunlocked. He pushed open the door and entered, followed by Carnes. Theoperative glanced at the occupants of the cabin and started back insurprise. 

Seated at a table were two figures. The smaller of the two had hisback to the entrance but the larger one was facing them. He rose asthey entered and Carnes rubbed his eyes and reeled weakly against thewall. Before him stood a replica of Dr. Bird. There was the same sixfeet two of bone and muscle, the same beetling brows and the samecraggy chin and high forehead surmounted by a shock of unruly blackhair. In face and figure the stranger was a replica of the famousscientist until he glanced at their hands. Dr. Bird's hands were longand slim with tapering fingers, the hands of a thinker and an artistdespite the acid stains which disfigured them but could not hidetheir beauty. The hands of his double were stained as were Dr. Bird's, but they were short and thick and bespoke more the man of action thanthe man of thought. 

The second figure arose and faced them and again Carnes received ashock. While the likeness was not so, striking, there was no doubtthat the second man would have readily passed for Carnes himself in adim light or at a little distance. Dr. Bird burst into laughter at thedetective's puzzled face. 

"Carnes, " he said, "shake yourself together and then shake hands withMajor Trowbridge of the Coast Artillery Corps. It has been said bysome people that we favor one another. "

"I'm glad to meet you, Major, " said Carnes. "The resemblance ispositively uncanny. But for your hands, I would have trouble tellingyou two apart. "

 * * * * *

The Major glanced down at his stubby fingers. 

"It is unfortunate but it can't be helped, " he said. "Dr. Bird, thisis Corporal Askins of my command. He is not as good a second to Mr. Carnes as I am to you but you said it was less important. "

"The likeness is plenty good enough, " replied the Doctor. "He willprobably not be subjected to as close a scrutiny as you will. Did youhave any trouble in getting here unobserved?"

"None at all, Doctor. Lieutenant Maynard found a good landing fieldwithin a half mile of here, as you said he would, and he has hisDouglass camouflaged and is standing by. When do you expect trouble?"

"I have no idea. It may come to-night or it may come later. PersonallyI hope that it comes later so that we can get in a few days of fishingbefore anything happens. "

"What do you expect to happen, Doctor?" demanded Carnes. "Every time Ihave asked you anything you told me to wait until we were in theMaine woods and we are there now. I read up everything that I couldfind on amnesia victims during the past three months but it didn'tthrow much light on the matter to me. "

"How many cases did you find, Carnes?"

"Sixteen. There may have been lots more but I couldn't find any othersin the _Post_ records. Of course, unless the victim were a local man, or of some prominence, it wouldn't appear. "

"You got most of them at that. Did any points of similarity strike youas you read them?"

"None except that all were prominent men and all of them mentalworkers of high caliber. That didn't appear peculiar because it is theman of high mentality who is most apt to crack. "

"Undoubtedly. There were some points of similarity which you missed. Where did the attacks take place?"

"Why, one was at--Thunder, Doctor! I did miss something. Every case, as nearly as I can recall, happened at some summer camp or otherresort where they were on vacation. "

"Correct. One other point. At what time of day did they occur?"

"In the morning, as well as I can remember. That point didn'tregister. "

"They were all discovered in the morning, Carnes, which means that theactual loss of memory occurred during the night. Further, every casehas happened within a circle with a diameter of three hundred miles. We are near the northern edge of that circle. "

 * * * * *

Carnes checked up on his memory rapidly. 

"You're right, Doctor, " he cried. "Do you think--?"

"Once in a while, " replied Dr. Bird dryly, "I think enough to know thefutility of guesses hazarded without complete data. We are now locatedwithin the limits of the amnesia belt and we are here to find out whatdid happen, if anything, and not to make wild guesses about it. Youhave the tent set up for us, Major?"

"Yes, Doctor, about thirty yards from the cabin and hidden so wellthat you could pass it a dozen times a day without suspecting itsexistence. The gas masks and other equipment which you sent to FortBanks are in it. "

"In that case we had better dispense with your company as soon as wehave eaten a bite, and retire to it. On second thought, we will eat init. Carnes, we will go to our downy couches at once and leave oursubstitutes in possession of the cabin. I trust, gentlemen, thatthings come out all right and that you are in no danger. "

Major Trowbridge shrugged his heavy shoulders. 

"It is as the gods will, " he said sententiously. "It is merely amatter of duty to me, you know, and thank God, I have no family tomourn if anything does go wrong. Neither has Corporal Askins. "

"Well, good luck at any rate. Will you guide Carnes to the tent andthen return here and I'll join him?"

 * * * * *

Huddled in the tiny concealed tent, Dr. Bird handed Carnes a haversackon a web strap. 

"This is a gas mask, " he said. "Put it on your neck and keep it readyfor instant use. I have one on and one of us must wear a maskcontinually while we are here. We'll change off every hour. If the gasused is lethane, as I suspect, we should be able to detect it beforeits gets too concentrated, but some other gas might be used and wemust take no chances. Now look here. "

With the aid of a flash-light he showed Carnes a piece of apparatuswhich had been set up in the tent. It consisted of two telescopicbarrels, one fitted with an eye-piece and the other, which was at awide angle to the first, with an objective glass. Between the two wasa covered round disc from which projected a short tube fitted with aprotecting lens. This tube was parallel to the telescopic barrelcontaining the objective lens. 

"This is a new thing which I have developed and it is getting itsfirst practical test to-night, " he said. "It is a gas detector. Itworks on the principle of the spectroscope with modifications. Fromthis projector goes out a beam of invisible light and the reflectionsare gathered and thrown through a prism of the eye-piece. While aspectroscope requires that the substance which it examines beincandescent and throw out visible light rays in order to show thetypical spectral lines, this device catches the invisible ultra-violeton a fluorescent screen and analyzes it spectroscopically. Whoever hasthe mask on must continually search the sky with it and look for thethree bright lines which characterize lethane, one at 230, one at 240and the third at 670 on the illuminated scale. If you see any brightlines in those regions or any other lines that are not continuallypresent, call my attention to it at once. I'll watch for the firsthour. "

 * * * * *

At the end of an hour Dr. Bird removed his mask with a sigh of reliefand Carnes took his place at the spectroscope. For half an hour hemoved the glass about and then spoke in a guarded tone. 

"I don't see any of the lines you told me to look for, " he said, "butin the southwest I get wide band at 310 and two lines at about 520. "

Dr. Bird advanced toward the instrument but before he reached it, Carnes gave an exclamation. 

"There they are, Doctor!" he cried. 

Dr. Bird sniffed the air. A faint sweetish odor became apparent and hereached for his gas mask. Slowly his hands drooped and Carnes graspedhim and drew the mask over his face. Dr. Bird rallied slightly andfeebly drew a bottle from his pocket and sniffed it. In anotherinstant he was shouldering Carnes aside and staring through thespectroscope. Carnes watched him for an instant and then low whirringnoise attracted his attention and he looked up. Silently he caughtthe Doctor's arm in a viselike grip and pointed. 

Hovering above the cabin was a silvery globe, faintly luminous in themoonlight. From its top rose a faint cloud of vapor which circledaround the globe and descended toward the earth. The globe hoveredlike a giant humming bird above the cabin and Carnes barely stifled anexclamation. The door of the cabin opened and Major Trowbridge, walking stiffly and like a man in a dream, appeared. Slowly headvanced for ten yards and stood motionless. The globe moved over himand the bottom unfolded like a lily. Two long arms shot silently downand grasped the motionless figure and drew him up into the heart ofthe globe. The petals refolded, and silently as a dream the globe shotupward and disappeared. 

"Gad! They lost no time!" commented Dr. Bird. "Come on, Carnes, runfor your life, or rather, for Trowbridge's life. No, you idiot, leaveyour gas mask on. I'll take the spectroscope; it'll be all we need. "

Followed by the panting Carnes, Dr. Bird sped through the night alongan almost invisible path. For half a mile he kept up a headlong paceuntil Carnes could feel his heart pounding as though it would bursthis ribs. The pair debouched from the trees into a glade a few acresin extent and Dr. Bird paused and whistled softly. An answeringwhistle came from a few yards away and a figure rose in the darknessas they approached. 

"Maynard?" called Dr. Bird. "Good enough! I was afraid that you mightnot have kept your gas mask on. "

"My orders were to keep it on, sir, " replied the lieutenant in muffledtones through his mask, "but my mechanician did not obey orders. Hepassed out cold without any warning about fifteen minutes ago. "

"Where's your ship?"

"Right over here, sir. "

"We'll take off at once. Your craft is equipped with a Birdsilencer?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Come on, Carnes, we're going to follow that globe. Take the frontcockpit alone, Maynard; Carnes and I will get in the rear pit with thespec and guide you. You can take of your gas mask at an elevation of athousand feet. You have pack 'chutes, haven't you?"

"In the rear pit, Doctor. "

"Put one on, Carnes, and climb in. I've got to get this spec set upbefore he gets too high. "

The Douglass equipped with the Bird silencer, took the air noiselesslyand rapidly gained elevation under the urging of the pilot. Dr. Birdclamped the gas-detecting spectroscope on the front of his cockpit andpeered through it. 

"Southwest, at about a thousand more elevation, " he directed. 

"Right!" replied the pilot as he turned the nose of his plane in theindicated direction and began to climb. For an hour and a half theplane flew noiselessly through the night. 

"Bald Mountain, " said the pilot, pointing. "The Canadian Border isonly a few miles away. "

"If they've crossed the Border, we're sunk, " replied the doctor. "Thetrail leads straight ahead. "

 * * * * *

For a few minutes they continued their flight toward the CanadianBorder and then Dr. Bird spoke. 

"Swing south, " he directed, "and drop a thousand feet and come back. "

The pilot executed the maneuver and Dr. Bird peered over the edge ofthe plane and directed the spectroscope toward the ground. 

"Half a mile east, " he said, "and drop another thousand. Carnes, getready to jump when I give the word. "

"Oh, Lord!" groaned Carnes as he fumbled for the rip cord of hisparachute, "suppose this thing doesn't open?"

"They'll slide you between two barn doors for a coffin and bury youthat way, " said Dr. Bird grimly. "You know your orders, Maynard?"

"Yes, sir. When you drop, I am to land at the nearest town--it will beLowell--and get in touch with the Commandant of the Portsmouth NavyYard if possible. If I get him, I am to tell him my location and waitfor the arrival of reenforcements. If I fail to get him on thetelephone, I am to deliver a sealed packet which I carry to thenearest United States Marshal. When reenforcements arrive, either fromthe Navy Yard or from the Marshal, I am to guide them toward the spotwhere I dropped you and remain, as nearly as I can judge, two milesaway until I get a further signal or orders from you. "

"That is right. We'll be over the edge in another minute. Are youready, Carnes?"

"Oh, yes, I'm ready, Doctor, if I have to risk my precious life inthis contraption. "

"Then jump!"

 * * * * *

Side by side, Carnes and the doctor dropped toward the ground. TheDouglass flew silently away into the night. Carnes found that thesensation of falling was not an unpleasant one as soon as he gotaccustomed to it. There was little sensation of motion, and it was notuntil a sharp whisper from Dr. Bird called it to his attention that herealized that he was almost to the ground. He bent his legs as he hadbeen instructed and landed without any great jar. As he rose he sawthat Dr. Bird was already on his feet and was eagerly searching theground with the spectroscope which he had brought with him in thejump. 

"Fold your parachute, Carnes, and we'll stow them away under a rockwhere they can't be seen. We won't use them again. "

Carnes did so and deposited the silk bundle beside the doctor's, andthey covered them with rocks until they would be invisible from theair. 

"Follow me, " said the doctor as he strode carefully forward, stoppingnow and then to take a sight with the spectroscope. Carnes followedhim as he made his way up a small hill which blocked the way. A hissfrom Dr. Bird stopped him. 

Dr. Bird had dropped flat on the ground, and Carnes, on all fours, crawled forward to join him. He smothered an exclamation as he lookedover the crest of the hill. Before him, sitting in a hollow in theground, was the huge globe which had spirited away Major Trowbridge. 

"This is evidently their landing place, " whispered Dr. Bird. "The nextthing to find is their hiding place. "

 * * * * *

He rose and started forward but sank at once to the ground and draggedCarnes down with him. On the hill which formed the opposite side ofthe hollow a line of light showed for an instant as though a door hadbeen opened. The light disappeared and then reappeared, and as theywatched it widened and against an illuminated background four menappeared, carrying a fifth. The door shut behind them and they madetheir way slowly toward the waiting globe. They laid down their burdenand one of them turned a flash-light on the globe and opened a door inits side through which they hoisted their burden. They all entered theglobe, the door closed and with a slight whirring sound it rose in theair and moved rapidly toward the northeast. 

"That's the place we're looking for, " muttered Dr. Bird. "We'll goaround this hollow and look for it. Be careful where you step; theymust have ventilation somewhere if their laboratory is underground. "

Followed by the secret service operative, the doctor made his wayalong the edge of the hollow. They did not dare to show a light and itwas slow work feeling their way forward, inch by inch. When they hadreached a point above where the doctor thought the light had been hepaused. 

"There must be a ventilation shaft somewhere around here, " hewhispered, his mouth not an inch from Carnes' ear, "and we've got tofind it. It would never do to try the door; if any of them are stillhere it is sure to be guarded. You go up the hill for five yards andI'll go down. Quarter back and forth on a two hundred yard front andwork carefully. Don't fall in, whatever you do. We'll return to thispoint every time we pass it and report. "

The operative nodded and walked a few yards up the hill and made hisway slowly forward. He went a hundred yards as nearly as he couldjudge and then stepped five yards further up the hill and made his wayback. As he passed the starting point he approached and Dr. Bird'sfigure rose up. 

"Any luck?" he whispered. 

Dr. Bird shook his head. 

"Well try further, " he said. "I think it is probably beyond us, sosuppose you go fifteen yards up and quarter the same as before. "

 * * * * *

Carnes nodded and stole silently away. Fifteen yards up the hill hewent and then paused. He stood on the crest of the hill and before himwas a steep, almost precipitous slope. He made his way along the edgefor a few yards and then paused. Faintly he could detect a murmur ofvoices. Inch by inch he crept forward, going over the ground underfoot. He paused and listened intently and decided that the sound mustcome from the slope beneath him. A glance at his watch told him thathe had spent ten minutes on this trip and he made his way back to themeeting place. 

Dr. Bird was waiting for him, and in a low whisper Carnes reported hisdiscovery. The doctor went back with him and together they renewed thesearch. The slope of the hill was almost sheer and Carnes lookeddubiously over the edge. 

"I wish we had brought the parachutes, " he whispered to the doctor. "We could have taken the ropes off them and you could have lowered meover the edge. "

Dr. Bird chuckled softly and tugged at his middle. Carnes watched himwith astonishment in the dim light, but he understood when Dr. Birdthrust the end of a strong but light silk cord into his hands. Helooped it under his arms and the doctor with whispered instructions, lowered him over the cliff. The doctor lowered him for a few feet andthen stopped in response to a jerk on the free end. A moment laterCarnes signaled to be drawn up and soon stood beside the doctor. 

"That's the place all right, " he whispered. "The whole cliff iscovered with creepers and there is a tree growing right close to it. If we can anchor the cord here, I think that we can slide down to asafe hold on the tree. "

A tree stood near and the silk cord was soon fastened. Carnesdisappeared over the cliff and in a few moments Dr. Bird slid down thecord to join him. He found the detective seated in the crotch of atree only a few feet from the face of the cliff. From the cliff came apronounced murmur of voices. Dr. Bird drew in his breath in excitementand moved forward along the branch. He touched the stone and after amoment of searching he cautiously raised one corner of a paintedcanvas flap and peered into the cliff. He watched for a few secondsand then slid back and silently pulled Carnes toward him. 

 * * * * *

Together the two men made their way toward the cliff and Dr. Birdraised the corner of the flap and they peered into the hill. Beforethem was a cave fitted up as a cross between a laboratory and ahospital. Almost directly opposite them and at the left of a door inthe farther wall was a ray machine of some sort. It was a puzzle toCarnes, and even Dr. Bird, although he could grasp the principle at aglance, was at a loss to divine its use. From a set of coils attachedto a generator was connected a tube of the Crookes tube type with therays from it gathered and thrown by a parabolic reflector onto thespace where a man's head would rest when he was seated in a whitemetal chair with rubber insulated feet, which stood beneath it. Anoperating table occupied the other side of the room while a gascylinder and other common hospital apparatus stood around ready foruse. 

Seated at a table which occupied the center of the room were threemen. The sound of their voices rose from an indistinct murmur toaudibility as the flap was raised and the watchers could readilyunderstand their words. Two of them sat with their faces toward themain entrance and the third man faced them. Carnes bit his lip as helooked at the man at the head of the table. He was twisted andmisshapen in body, a grotesque dwarf with a hunched back, not overfour feet in height. His massive head, sunken between his hunchedshoulders, showed a tremendous dome of cranium and a brow wider andeven higher than Dr. Bird's. The rest of his face was lined and drawnas though by years of acute suffering. Sharp black eyes glaredbrightly from deep sunk caverns. The dwarf was entirely bald; even thebushy eyebrows which would be expected from his face, were missing. 

 * * * * *

"They ought to be getting back, " said the dwarf sharply. 

"If they get back at all, " said one of the two figures facing him. 

"What do you mean?" growled the dwarf, his eyes glittering ominously. "They'll return all right; they know they'd better. "

"They'll return if they can, but I tell you again, Slavatsky, I thinkit was a piece of foolishness to try to take two men in one night. Wegot Bird all right, but it is getting late for a second one, and theyhad to take Bird over a hundred miles and then go nearly three hundredmore for Williams. The news about Bird may have been discovered andspread and others may be looking out for us. Carnes might haverecovered. "

"Didn't he get a full dose of lethane?"

"So Frick says, and Bird certainly had a full dose, but I can't helpbut feel uneasy. Our operations were going too nicely on schedule andyou had to break it up and take on an extra case in the same night asa scheduled one. I tell you, I don't like it. "

"I'm sorry that I did it, Carson, but only because the results were sopoor. We had planned on Williams for a month and I wanted him. AndBird was so easy that I couldn't resist it. "

"And what did you get? Not as much menthium as would have come from anordinary bookkeeper. "

"I'll admit that Bird is a grossly overrated man. He must have workedin sheer luck in his work in the past, for there was nothing in hisbrain to show it above average. We got barely enough menthium toreplace what we used in capturing him. "

"We ought to have taken Carnes and left Bird alone, " snorted Carson. "Even a wooden-headed detective ought to have given us a better supplythan Bird yielded. "

"We are bound to meet with disappointments once in a while. I hadmarked Bird down long ago as soon as I could get a chance at him. "

"Well, you ran that show, Slavatsky, but I'll warn you that we aren'tgoing to let you pull off another one like it. I take no more crazychances, even on your orders. "

 * * * * *

The hunchback rose to his feet, his eyes glittering ominously. 

"What do you mean, Carson?" he asked slowly, his hand slipping behindhim as he spoke. 

"Don't try any rough stuff, Slavatsky!" warned Carson sharply. "I canpull a tube as fast as you can, and I'll do it if I have to. "

"Gentlemen, gentlemen!" protested the third man rising, "we are alltoo deep in this to quarrel. Sit down and let's talk this over. Carsonis just worried. "

"What is there to be worried about?" grunted the dwarf as he slid backinto his chair. "Everything has gone nicely so far and no suspicionhas been raised. "

"Maybe it has and then again maybe it hasn't, " growled Carson. "Ithink this Bird episode to-night looks bad. In the first place, itcame too opportunely and too easily. In the second place Bird shouldhave yielded more menthium, and in the third place, did you notice hishands? They weren't the type of hands to expect on a man of his type. "

"Nonsense, they were acid stained. "

"Acid stains can be put on. It may be all right, but I am worried. While we are talking about this matter, there is another thing I wantcleared up. "

"What is it?"

"I think, Slavatsky, that you are holding out on us. You are gettingmore than your share of the menthium. "

Again the dwarf leaped to his feet, but the peace-maker intervened. 

"Carson has a right to look at the records, Slavatsky, " he said. "I amsatisfied, but I'd like to look at them, too. None of us have seenthem for two months. "

The dwarf glared at first one and then the other. 

"All right, " he said shortly and limped to a cabinet on the wall. Hedrew a key from his pocket and opened it and pulled out aleather-bound book. "Look all you please. I was supposed to get themost. It was my idea. "

"You were to get one share and a half, while Willis, Frink and I gotone share each and the rest half a share, " said Carson. "I know howmuch has been given and it won't take me but a minute to check up. "

 * * * * *

He bent over the book, but Willis interrupted. 

"Better put it away, Carson, " he said, "here come the rest and wedon't want them to know we suspect anything. "

He pointed toward a disc on the wall which had begun to glow. Slavatsky looked at it and grasped the book from Carson and replacedit in the cabinet. He moved over and started the generator and thetube began to glow with a violet light. A noise came from the outsideand the door opened. Four men entered carrying a fifth whom theypropped up in the chair under the glowing tube. 

"Did everything go all right?" asked the dwarf eagerly. 

"Smooth as silk, " replied one of the four. "I hope we get some resultsthis time. "

The dwarf bent over the ray apparatus and made some adjustments andthe head of the unconscious man was bathed with a violet glow. Forthree minutes the flood of light poured on his head and then the dwarfshut off the light and Carson and Willis lifted the figure and laid iton the operating table. The dwarf bent over the man and inserted theneedle of a hypodermic syringe into the back of the neck at the baseof the brain. The needle was an extremely long one, and Dr. Birdgasped as he saw four inches of shining steel buried in the brain ofthe unconscious man. 

Slowly Slavatsky drew back the plunger of the syringe and Dr. Birdcould see it was being filled with an amber fluid. For two minutes theslow work continued, until a speck of red appeared in the glasssyringe barrel. 

"Seven and a half cubic centimeters!" cried the dwarf in a tone ofdelight. 

"Fine!" cried Carson. "That's a record, isn't it?"

"No, we got eight once. Now hold him carefully while I return some ofit. "

 * * * * *

Slavatsky slowly pressed home the plunger and a portion of the amberfluid was returned to the patient's skull. Presently he withdrew theneedle and straightened up and held it toward the light. 

"Six centimeters net, " he announced. "Take him back, Frink. I'll giveCarson and Willis their share now and we'll take care of the rest ofyou when you return. Is the ship well stocked?"

"Enough for two or three more trips. "

"In that case, I'll inject this whole lot. Better get going, Frink, it's pretty late. "

The four men who had brought the patient in stepped forward and liftedhim from the table and bore him out. Dr. Bird dropped the canvasscreen and strained his ears. A faint whir told him that the globe hadtaken to the air. He slid back along the limb of the tree until hetouched the rope and silently climbed hand over hand until he gainedthe crest. He bent his back to the task of raising Carnes, and theoperative soon stood beside him on the ledge surmounting the cliff. 

"What on earth were they doing?" asked Carnes in a whisper. 

"That was Professor Williams of Yale. They were depriving him of hismemory. There will be another amnesia case in the papers to-morrow. Ihaven't time to explain their methods now: we've got to act. You havea flash-light?"

"Yes, and my gun. Shall we break in? There are only three of them, andI think we could handle the lot. "

"Yes, but the others may return at any time and we want to bag thewhole lot. They've done their damage for to-night. You heard my ordersto Lieutenant Maynard, didn't you?"

"Yes. "

"He should be somewhere in these hills to the south with assistance ofsome sort. The signal to them is three long flashes followed in turnby three short ones and three more long. Go and find them and bringthem here. When you get close give me the same light signal and don'ttry to break in unless I am with you. I am going to reconnoitre alittle more and make sure that there is no back entrance through whichthey can escape. Good luck. Carnes: hurry all you can. There is notime to be lost. "

 * * * * *

The secret service operative stole away into the night and Dr. Birdclimbed back down the rope and took his place at the window. Willislay on the operating table unconscious, while Slavatsky and Carsonstudied the now partially emptied syringe. 

"You gave him his full share all right, " Carson was saying. "I guessyou are playing square with us. I'll take mine now. "

He lay down on the operating table and the dwarf fitted an anesthesiacone over his face and opened the valve of the gas cylinder. In amoment he closed it and rolled the unconscious man on his face anddeftly inserted the long needle. Instead of injecting a portion of thecontents of the syringe as Dr. Bird had expected to do, he drew backon the plunger for a minute and then took out the needle and held thesyringe to the light. 

"Well, Mr. Carson, " he said with a malignant glance at the unconsciousfigure, "that recovers the dose you got a couple of weeks ago whileWillis watched me. I don't think you really need any menthium; yourbrain is too active to suit me as it is. "

He gave an evil chuckle and walked to the far side of the cave andopened a secret panel. He drew from a recess a flask and carefullyemptied a portion of the contents of the syringe into it. He replacedthe flask and closed the panel, and with another chuckle he limpedover to a chair and threw himself down in it. For an hour he satmotionless and Dr. Bird carefully worked his way back along the branchand climbed the rope and started for the hollow. 

 * * * * *

A faint whirring noise attracted his attention, and he could see thefaintly luminous globe in the distance, rapidly approaching. It cameto a stop at the spot where it had previously landed and four men gotout. Instead of going toward the cave, they towed the globe, whichfloated a few inches from the earth, toward the side of the hillfarthest from where the doctor stood. Three of them held it, while thefourth went forward and bent over some controls on the ground. Acreaking sound came through the night and the men moved forward withthe globe. Presently its movement stopped and men reappeared. Againcame the creaking sound and the glow faded out as though a screen hadbeen drawn in front of it. The four men walked toward the door of thecave. 

Dr. Bird dropped flat on the ground and saw them pause a few yardsbelow him on the hill and again work some hidden controls. A glare oflight showed for an instant and they disappeared and everything wasagain quiet. Dr. Bird debated the advisability of returning to thewindow but decided against it and moved down the face of the hill. 

Inch by inch he went over the ground, but found nothing. In thedarkness he could not locate the door and he made his way around tothe back of the hill. The precipice loomed above him and he swept itwith his gaze, but he could locate no opening in the darkness and hedared not use a flash-light. As he turned he faced the east and notedwith a start of surprise that the sky was getting red. He glanced athis watch and found that Carnes had been gone for nearly three hours. 

"Great Scott!" he exclaimed in surprise. "Time has gone faster than Irealized. He ought to be back at any time now. "

 * * * * *

He mounted the highest point of the hill and sent three long flashes, followed in turn by three short and three more long to the south andwatched eagerly for an answer. He waited five minutes and repeated thesignal, but no answering flashes came from the empty hills. With agrunt which might have meant anything, he turned and made his waytoward the opposite side of the hollow where the globe haddisappeared. Here he met with more luck. He had marked the locationwith extreme care and he had not spent over twenty minutes feelingover the ground before his hand encountered a bit of metal. As hepulled on it his eyes sought the side of the hill. 

The dawn had grown sufficiently bright for him to see the result ofhis action. A portion of the hill folded back and the faintly glowingship became visible. With a muttered exclamation of triumph heapproached it. 

The globe was about nine feet in diameter and was without visibledoors or windows. Around and around it the doctor went, searching foran entrance. The ship now rested solidly on the ground. He failed tofind what he sought and his sensitive hands began to go over itsearching for an irregularity. He had covered nearly half of it beforehis finger found a hidden button and pressed it. Silently a door inthe side of the craft opened and he advanced to enter. 

"Keep them up!" said a sharp voice behind him. 

Dr. Bird froze into instant immobility and the voice spoke again. 

"Turn around!"

Dr. Bird turned and looked full into the eye of a revolver held by theman the dwarf had addressed as Frink. Behind Frink stood the dwarf andthree other men. 

As his eye fell on Dr. Bird, Frink turned momentarily pale andstaggered back, the revolver wavering as he did so. Dr. Bird made alightning-like grab for his own weapon, but before he could draw itFrink had recovered and the revolver was again steady. 

"Dr. Bird!" gasped Slavatsky. "Impossible!"

"Get his gun, Harris, " said Frink. 

 * * * * *

One of the men stepped forward and dextrously removed the doctor'sautomatic and frisked him expertly to insure himself that he had noother weapon concealed. 

"Bring him to the cave, " directed Slavatsky, who, though obviouslystill shaken, had just as obviously recovered enough to be a verydangerous man. Two of the men grasped the doctor and led him alongtoward the entrance to the laboratory cave which stood wide open inthe gathering daylight. Frink paused long enough to shut the side ofthe hill and conceal the ship, and then followed the doctor. In thecave the door was shut and the doctor placed against the wall underthe window through which he had peered earlier in the night. Slavatskytook his seat at the table, his malignant black eyes boring into theDoctor. Carson and Willis sat on the edge of the operating table, evidently still partially under the effects of the anesthetic that hadbeen administered to them. 

"How did you get back here?" demanded Slavatsky. 

"Find out!" snapped Dr. Bird. 

The dwarf rose threateningly. 

"Speak respectfully to me; I am the Master of the World!" he roared inan angry voice. "Answer my questions when I speak, or means will befound to make you answer. How did you get back here?"

Dr. Bird maintained a stubborn silence, his fierce eyes answering thedwarf's, look for look, and his prominent chin jutting out a littlemore squarely. Carson suddenly broke the silence. 

"That's not the Bird we had here earlier, " he cried as he staggered tohis feet. 

"What do you mean?" demanded Slavatsky whirling on him. 

"Look at his hands!" replied Carson pointing. 

 * * * * *

Slavatsky looked at Dr. Bird's long mobile fingers and an evil leercame over his countenance. 

"So, Dr. Bird, " he said slowly, "you thought to match wits with IvanSlavatsky, the greatest mind of all the ages. For a time you fooled mewhen your double was operated on here, but not for long. I presume youthought that we had no way of detecting the substitution? You havediscovered differently. Where is your friend, Mr. Carnes?"

"Didn't your men leave him in the cabin when you kidnapped me?"

Slavatsky looked at Frink inquiringly. 

"He stayed in the cabin if he was in it when we got there, " the leaderof the kidnapping gang replied. "He got a full shot of lethane andhe's due to be asleep yet. I don't know how this man recovered. I lefthim there myself. "

"Fool!" shrieked Slavatsky. "You brought me a double, a dummy whom Iwasted my time in operating on. Was the other a dummy, too?"

"I didn't enter the cabin. "

Slavatsky shrugged his shoulders. 

"If that is all the good the menthium I have injected has done you, Imight as well have saved it. It doesn't matter, however: we have theone we wanted. Dr. Bird, it was very thoughtful of you to come hereand offer your marvelous brain to strengthen mine. I have no doubtthat you will yield even more menthium than Professor Williams didthis evening especially as I will extract your entire supply andreduce you to permanent idiocy. I will have no mercy on you as I haveon the others I have operated on. "

Dr. Bird blanched in spite of himself at the ominous words. 

"You have the whip-hand for the moment, Slavatsky, but my time maycome--and if it does, I will remember your kindness. I saw youroperation on Professor Williams this evening and know your power. Ialso know that you stole the idea and the method from Sweigert ofVienna. I saw you inject the fluid you drew into Willis' brain. ShallI tell what else I saw?"

It was the dwarf's turn to blanch, but he recovered himself quickly. 

"Into the chair with him!" he roared. 

 * * * * *

Three of the men grasped the doctor and forced him into the chair andSlavatsky started the generator. The violet light bathed Dr. Bird's headand he felt a stiffness and contraction of his neck muscles, and as hetried to shout out his knowledge of Slavatsky's treachery, he found thathis vocal chords were paralyzed. Through a gathering haze he could seeCarson approaching with an anesthesia cone and the sweet smell of lethaneassailed his nostrils. He fought with all his force, but strong hands heldhim, and he felt himself slipping--slipping--slipping--and then fallinginto an immense void. His head slumped forward on his chest and Slavatskyshut off the generator. 

"On the table, " he said briefly. 

Four men picked up the herculean frame of the unconscious doctor andhoisted him up on the table. Carson seized his head and bent itforward and the dwarf took from a case a syringe with a five-inchneedle. He touched the point of it to the base of the doctor's brain. 

"Slavatsky! Look!" cried Frink. 

With an exclamation of impatience the dwarf turned and stared at adisc set on the wall of the cave. It was glowing brightly. With anoath he dropped the syringe and snapped a switch, plunging the caveinto darkness. A tiny panel in the door opened to his touch and hestared out into the light. 

"Soldiers!" he gasped. "Quick, the back way!"

As he spoke there came a sound as of a heavy body falling at the backof the cave. Slavatsky turned the switch and flooded the cave withlight. At the back of the cave stood Operative Carnes, an automaticpistol in his hand. 

"Open the main door!" Carnes snapped. 

 * * * * *

Slavatsky made a move toward the light, and Carnes' gun roareddeafeningly in the confined space. The heavy bullet smashed into thewall an inch from the dwarf's hand and he started back. 

"Open the main door!" ordered Carnes again. 

The men stared at one another for a moment and the dwarf's eyes fell. 

"Open the door, Frink, " he said. 

Frink moved over to a lever. He glanced at Slavatsky and a momentarygleam of intelligence passed between them. Frink raised his handtoward the lever and Carnes gun roared again and Frink's arm fell limpfrom a smashed shoulder. 

"Slavatsky, " said Carnes sternly, "come here!"

Slowly the dwarf approached. 

"Turn around!" said Carnes. 

He turned and felt the cold muzzle of Carnes' gun against the back ofhis neck. 

"Now tell one of your men to open the door, " said the detective. "Ifhe promptly obeys your order, you are safe. If he doesn't, you die. "

Slavatsky hesitated for a moment, but the cold muzzle of the automaticbored into the back of his neck and when he spoke it was in aquavering whine. 

"Open the door, Carson, " he whimpered. 

There was moment of pause. 

"If that door isn't open by the time I count three, " said Carnes, "--as far as Slavatsky is concerned, it's just too bad. I'll have fourshots left--and I'm a dead shot at this range. One! Two!"

His lips framed the word "three" and his fingers were tightening onthe trigger when Carson jumped forward with an oath. He pulled a leveron the wall and the door swung open. Carnes shouted and through theopened door came a half dozen marines followed by an officer. 

"Tie these men up!" snapped Carnes. 

 * * * * *

In a trice the six men were securely bound and Frink's bleedingshoulder was being skilfully treated by two of the marines. Carnesturned his attention to the unconscious doctor. 

He rolled him over on his back and began to chafe his hands. Anofficer in a naval uniform came through the door and with a swiftglance around, bent over Dr. Bird. He raised one of the doctor'seyelids and peered closely at his eye and then sniffed at his breath. 

"It's some anesthetic I don't know, " he said. "I'll try a stimulant. "

He reached in his pocket for a hypodermic, but Carnes interrupted him. 

"Earlier in the evening Dr. Bird said they were using lethane, " hesaid. 

"Oh, that new gas the Chemical Warfare Service has discovered, " saidthe surgeon. "In that case I guess it'll just have to wear off. I knowof nothing that will neutralize it. "

Without replying, Carnes began to feverishly search the pockets of theunconscious scientist. With an exclamation of triumph he drew out abottle and uncorked it. A strong smell as of garlic penetrated theroom and he held the opened bottle under Dr. Bird's nose. The doctorlay for a moment without movement, and then he coughed and sat up halfstrangled with tears running down his face. 

"Take that confounded bottle away, Carnes!" he said. "Do you want tostrangle me?"

He sat up and looked around. 

"What happened?" he demanded. "Oh, yes, I remember now. That brute wasabout to operate on me. How did you get here?"

"Never mind that, Doctor. Are you all right?"

"Right as a trivet, old dear. How did you get here so opportunely?"

"I was a little slow in locating Lieutenant Maynard and the marines. When we got here I was afraid that we couldn't find the door, so Itook Maynard and a detail around to the back and I went up to the topand slid down our cord and looked in the window. You were unconsciousand Slavatsky was bending over you with a needle in his hand. I wasabout to try a shot at him when something called their attention tothe men in front and I squeezed through the window and dropped in onthem. They didn't seem any too glad to see me, but I overlooked thatand insisted on inviting the rest of my friends in to share in theparty. That's all. "

"Carnes, " said the Doctor, "you're probably lying like a trooper whenyou make out that you did nothing, but I'll pry the truth out of yousooner or later. Now I've got to get to work. Send for LieutenantMaynard. "

 * * * * *

One of the marines went out to get the flyer, and Dr. Bird stepped tothe cabinet from which Slavatsky had taken his record book earlier inthe evening and took out the leather-bound volume. He opened it andhad started to read when Lieutenant Maynard entered the cave. 

"Hello, Maynard, " said the Doctor, looking up. "Are the rest of theparty on their way?"

"They will be here in less than two hours, Doctor. "

"Good enough! Have some one sent to guide them here. In the meanwhile, I'm going to study these records. Keep the prisoners quiet. If theymake a noise, gag them. I want to concentrate. "

For an hour and a half silence reigned in the cave. A stir was heardoutside and Admiral Clay, the President's personal physician, enteredleading a stout gray-haired man. Dr. Bird whistled when he saw themand leaped to his feet as another figure followed the admiral. 

"The President!" gasped Carnes as the officers came to a salute andthe marines presented arms. 

The President nodded to his ex-guard, acknowledged the salute of therest and turned to Dr. Bird. 

"Have you met with success, Doctor?" he asked. 

"I have, Mr. President; or, rather, I hope that I have. At the sametime, I would rather experiment on some other victim of their deviltrythan the one you have brought me. "

"My decision that the one I have brought shall be the first to beexperimented on, as you term it, is unalterable. "

 * * * * *

Dr. Bird bowed and turned to the dwarf who had been a sullen witnessof what had gone on. 

"Slavatsky, " he said slowly, "your game is up. I have witnessed one ofyour brain transfusions and I know the method. I gather from yournotes that the menthium you have hidden in that cabinet is still aspotent as when it was first extracted from a living brain, but in thiscase I am going to draw it fresh from one of your gang. Some of thedetails of the operation are a little hazy to me, but those you willteach me. I am going to restore this man to the condition he was inbefore you did your devil's work on him and you will direct mymovements. Just what is the first step in removing the menthium from abrain?"

The dwarf maintained a stubborn silence. 

"You refuse to answer?" asked the Doctor in feigned surprise. "Ithought that you would rather instruct me and have me try theoperation first on other men. Since you prefer that I operate on youfirst, I will be glad to do so. "

He stepped to the opposite wall and in a few moments had opened thedwarf's hiding place and taken out the flask of menthium. 

"Carson, " he said, "after you had watched Slavatsky inject menthiuminto Willis, you took lethane and expected him to inject menthium intoyour brain. Instead of doing so he withdrew a portion from your brainand put it in this flask. I have reason to believe from his secretrecords which I found in the cabinet with this flask that he has doneso regularly. Are you willing to instruct me while I remove thementhium from him?"

"The dirty swine!" shouted Carson. "I'll do anything to get even withhim, but I have never performed the operation. Only Slavatsky andWillis have operated. "

"Will you help me, Willis? asked Dr. Bird. 

"I'll be glad to, Doctor. I am sick of this business anyway. At first, Slavatsky just planned to give us abnormally keen brains, but latelyhe has been talking of setting himself up as Emperor of the World, andI am sick of it. I think I would have broken with him and told all Iknow, soon, anyway. "

"Throw him in that chair, " said Dr. Bird. 

 * * * * *

Despite the howlings and strugglings of the dwarf, three of themarines strapped him in the chair beneath the tube. The dwarf howledand frothed at the mouth and directed a final appeal for mercy to thePresident. 

"Spare me, Your Excellency, " he howled. "I will put my brains at yourservice and make you the greatest mentality of all time. Together wecan conquer and rule the world. I will show you how to build hundredsof ships like mine--"

The President turned his back on the dwarf and spoke curtly. 

"Proceed with your experiments, Dr. Bird, " he said. 

Slavatsky directed his appeals to the doctor, who peremptorilysilenced him. 

"I told you a few hours ago, Slavatsky, that the time might come whenI would remember your threats against me. I will show you the samemercy now as you promised me then. Carnes, put a cone over his face. "

Despite the howls of the dwarf, the operative forced an anesthesiacone over his face and Dr. Bird turned to the valve of the lethanecylinder. With Willis directing his movements, he turned on the rayfor three minutes and removed the unconscious dwarf to the operatingtable. He took the long-needled syringe from a case and sterilized itand then turned to the President. 

"I am about to operate, " he said, "but before I do so, I wish toexplain to all just what I have learned and what I am about to do. With that data, the decision of whether I shall proceed will rest withyou and Admiral Clay. Have I your permission to do so?"

 * * * * *

The President nodded. 

"When I first read of these amnesia cases, I took them forcoincidences--until you consulted me and gave me an opportunity toexamine one of the victims. I found a small puncture at the base ofthe brain which I could not explain, and I began to dig into oldrecords. I knew, of course, of Sweigert of Vienna, and the extravagantclaims he had put forward in 1911. He was far ahead of his time, buthe mixed up some profound scientific discoveries with mysticism andoccultism until he was discredited. Nevertheless, he continued hisexperiments with the aid of his principal assistant, a man namedSlavatsky. 

"Sweigert's theory was that intellectuality, brain power, intelligence, call it what you will, was the result of the presence ofa fluid which he called 'menthium' in the brain. He thought that itcould be transferred from one person to another, and with the aid ofSlavatsky, he experimented on himself. He removed the menthium from anunfortunate victim, who was reduced to a state of imbecility, andSlavatsky injected the substance into Sweigert's brain. The experimentresulted fatally and Slavatsky was tried for murder. He was acquittedof intentional murder but was imprisoned for a time for manslaughter. He was released when the Austro-Hungarian Empire was broken up, andfor a time I lost track of him. 

"I found translations of both the records of the trials and ofSweigert's original reports, and the thing that attracted my attentionwas that the puncture I found in the victim corresponded exactly withthe puncture described by Sweigert as the one he made in extractingthe menthium. I asked the immigration authorities to check over theirrecords and they found that a man named Slavatsky whose descriptioncorresponded with the ill-fated Sweigert's assistant had entered theUnited States under Austria's quota about a year ago. The chain ofevidence seemed complete to me, and it only remained to find the manwho was systematically robbing brains. 

"If such a thing was really going on, I felt that my reputation wouldmake me an attractive bait and I secured a double, as you know, andplaced him in a position where his kidnapping would be an easy matter. I was sure that the victims were being taken away by air and thatlethane was being used to reduce the neighborhood to a state ofprofound somnolence, so I hid myself near my double with a gasdetector which would find even minute traces of lethane in the air. 

"My fish rose to the lure and came after the bait last night. When hisship arrived, I found a strange gas in the air, and followed the shipby the trail of the substance which it left behind it. Carnes was withme, and we got here in time to witness the extraction of the menthiumfrom my friend, Professor Williams of Yale, and to see it injectedinto one of Slavatsky's gang. I sent Carnes for help and messed arounduntil I was captured myself--and help arrived just in time. That'sabout all there is to tell. I am now about to reverse the process andtry to remove the stolen brains from the criminals and restore them totheir rightful owners. I have never operated and the result may befatal. Shall I proceed?"

The President and Admiral Clay consulted for a moment in undertones. 

"Go on with your experiments, Dr. Bird, " said the President, "and wewill hold you blameless for a failure. You have worked so manymiracles in the past that we have every confidence in you. "

Dr. Bird bowed acknowledgment to the compliment and bent over theunconscious dwarf. With Willis directing every move, he inserted theneedle and drew back slowly on the plunger. Twenty-three and one-halfcubic centimeters of amber fluid flowed into the syringe before aspeck of blood appeared. 

"Enough!" cried Willis. Dr. Bird withdrew the syringe and motioned toAdmiral Clay. The man the Admiral had brought in was placed in thechair and lethane administered. He was laid on the table, and, with asilent prayer, Dr. Bird inserted the needle and pressed the plunger. When five and one-quarter centimeters had flowed into the man'sbrains, he withdrew the needle and held the bottle which Carnes hadused to revive him under the man's nose. The patient coughed a momentand sat up. 

"Where am I?" he demanded. His gaze roved the cave and fell on thePresident. "Hello, Robert, " he exclaimed. "What has happened?"

With a cry of joy the President sprang forward and wrung the hand ofthe man. 

"Are you all right, William?" he asked anxiously. "Do you feelperfectly normal?"

"Of course I do. My neck feels a little stiff. What are you talkingabout? Why shouldn't I feel normal? How did I get here?"

"Take him outside, Admiral, and explain to him, " said the President. 

Admiral Clay led the puzzled man outside and the President turned toDr. Bird. 

"Doctor, " he said, "I need not tell you that I again add my personalgratitude to the gratitude of a nation which would be yours, could themiracles you work be told off. If there is ever any way that can serveyou, either personally or officially, do not hesitate to ask. Theother victims will be brought here to-day. Will you be able to restorethem?"

"I will, Mr. President. From Slavatsky's records I find that I willhave enough if I reduce all of his men to a state of imbecility exceptWillis. In view of his assistance, I propose to leave him with enoughmenthium to give him the intelligence of an ordinary schoolboy. "

"I quite approve of that, " said the President as Willis humblyexpressed his gratitude. "Have you had time to make an examination ofthat ship of Slavatsky's, yet?"

"I have not. As soon as the work of restoration is completed, I willgo over it, and when I master the principles I will be glad to takethem up with the Army-Navy General Board. "

"Thank you, Doctor, " said the President. He shook hands heartily andleft the cave. Carnes turned and looked at the Doctor. 

"Will you answer a question, Doctor?" he asked. "Ever since this casestarted, I have been wondering at your extraordinary powers. You haveordered the army, the navy, the department of justice and everyoneelse around as though you were an absolute monarch. I know thePresident was behind you, but what puzzles me is how he came to be sovitally interested in the case. "

Dr. Bird smiled quizzically at the detective. 

"Even the secret service doesn't know everything, " he said. "Evidentlyyou didn't recognize the man whose memory I restored. Besides beingone of the most brilliant corporation executives in the country, hehas another unique distinction. He happens to be the only brother ofthe President of the United States. "

[Advertisement: ]

The Invisible Death

A COMPLETE NOVELETTE

_By Victor Rousseau_

[Illustration: Far overhead a luminous shape appeared. ]

[Sidenote: With night-rays and darkness-antidote America strikes backat the terrific and destructive Invisible Empire. ]

CHAPTER I

_Out of the Hangman's Hands_

"You speak, " said Von Kettler, jeering, "as if you really believedthat you had the power of life and death over me. "

The Superintendent of the penitentiary frowned, yet there wassomething of perplexity in the look he gave the prisoner. "VonKettler, I think it is time that you dropped this absurd pose ofyours, " he said, "in view of the fact that you are scheduled to die byhanging at eight o'clock to-morrow night. Your life and death are inyour own hands. "

[Illustration]

Von Kettler bowed ironically. Standing in the Superintendent'spresence in the uniform of the condemned cell, collarless, bare-headed, he yet seemed to dominate the other by a certain poise, breeding, nonchalance. 

"Your life is offered you in consideration of your making a completewritten confession of the whole ramifications of the plot against theFederal Government, " the Superintendent continued. 

"Rather a confession of weakness, my dear Superintendent, " jeered theprisoner. 

 * * * * *

"Oh don't worry about that! The Government has unravelled a good dealof the conspiracy. It knows that you and your international associatesare planning to strike at civilized government throughout the world, in the effort to restore the days of autocracy. It knows you areplanning a world federation of states, based on the principles ofabsolutism and aristocracy. It is aware of the immense financialresources behind the movement. Also that you have obtained the use ofcertain scientific discoveries which you believe will aid you in yourschemes. "

"I was wondering, " jeered the prisoner, "how soon you were coming tothat. "

"They didn't help you in your murderous scheme, " the Superintendentthundered. "You were found in the War Office by the night watchman, rifling a safe of valuable documents. You shot him with a pistolequipped with a silencer. You shot down two more who, hearing hiscries, rushed to his aid. And you attempted to stroll out of thebuilding, apparently under the belief that you possessed mysteriouspower which would afford you security. "

"A little lapse of judgment such as may happen with the best laidplans, " smiled Von Kettler. "No, Superintendent, I'll be franker withyou than that. My capture was designed. It was decided to give theGovernment an object lesson in our power. It was resolved that Ishould permit myself to be captured, in order to demonstrate that youcannot hang me, that I have merely to open the door of my cell, thegates of this penitentiary, and walk out to freedom. "

"Have you quite finished?" rasped the Superintendent. 

"At your disposal, " smiled the other. 

"Here's your last chance, Von Kettler. Your persistence in this absurdclaim has actually shaken the expressed conviction of some of themedical examiners that you are sane. If you will make that completewritten confession that the Government asks of you, I pledge you thatyou shall be declared insane to-night, and sent to a sanitarium fromwhich you will be permitted to escape as soon as this affair has blownover. "

 * * * * *

"The United States Government has sunk pretty low, to involve itselfin a deal of this character, don't you think, my dear Superintendent?"jeered Von Kettler. 

"The Government is prepared to act as it thinks best in the interestsof humanity. It knows that the death of one wretched murderer such asyourself is not worth the lives of thousands of innocent men!"

"And there, " smiled Von Kettler, without abating an atom of hisnonchalance, "there, my dear Superintendent, you hit the nail on thehead. Only, instead of thousands, you might have said millions. "

Von Kettler's aspect changed. Suddenly his eyes blazed, his voiceshook with excitement, his face was the face of a fanatic, of aprophet. 

"Yes, millions, Superintendent, " he thundered. "It it a holy causethat inspires us. We know that it is our sacred mission to save theworld from the drabness of modern democracy. The people--always thepeople! Bah! what are the lives of these swarming millions worth whencompared with a Caesar, a Napoleon, an Alexander, a Charlemagne?Nothing can stop us or defeat us. And you, with your confession ofdefeat, your petty bargaining--I laugh at you!"

"You'll laugh on the gallows to-morrow night!" the Superintendentshouted. 

Again Von Kettler was the calm, superior, arrogant prisoner of before. "I shall never stand on the gallows trap, my dear Superintendent, as Ihave told you many times, " he replied. "And, since we have reachedwhat diplomacy calls a deadlock, permit me to return to my cell. "

The Superintendent pressed a button on his desk; the guards, who hadbeen waiting outside the office, entered hastily. "Take this manback, " he commanded, and Von Kettler, head held high, and smiling, left the room between them. 

 * * * * *

The Superintendent pressed another button, and his assistant entered, a rugged, red-haired man of forty--Anstruther, familiarly known as"Bull" Anstruther, the man who had in three weeks reduced thepenitentiary from a place of undisciplined chaos to a model of lawand order. Anstruther knew nothing of the Superintendent's offer toVon Kettler, but he knew that the latter had powerful friends outside. 

"Anstruther, I'm worried about Von Kettler, " said the Superintendent. "He actually laughed at me when I spoke of the possibility of anothermedical examination. He seemed confident that he could not be hanged. Swore that he will never stand on the gallows trap. How about yourprecautions for to-morrow night?"

"We've taken all possible precautions, " answered Anstruther. "Specialarmed guards have been posted at every entrance to the building. Detectives are patrolling all streets leading up to it. Every car thatpasses is being scrutinized, its plate numbers taken, and forwarded tothe Motor Bureau. There's no chance of even an attempt atrescue--literally none. "

"He's insane, " said the Superintendent, with conviction, and the wordsfilled him with new confidence. It had been less Von Kettler'sstatements than the man's cool confidence and arrogant superioritythat had made him doubt. "But he's not too insane to have known whathe was doing. He'll hang. "

"He certainly will, " replied Anstruther. "He's just a big bluff, sir. "

"Have him searched rigorously again to-morrow morning, and his celltoo--every inch of it, Anstruther. And don't relax an iota of yourprecautions. I'll be glad when it's all over. "

He proceeded to hold a long-distance conversation with Washington overa special wire. 

 * * * * *

In his cell, Von Kettler could be seen reading a book. It wasNietzsche's "Thus Spake Zarathusta, " that compendium of aristocraticinsolence that once took the world by storm, until the author'smentality was revealed by his commitment to a mad-house. Von Kettlerread till midnight, closely observed by the guard at the trap, thenlaid the word aside with a yawn, lay down on his cot, and appeared tofall instantly asleep. 

Dawn broke. Von Kettler rose, breakfasted, smoked the perfecto thatcame with his ham and eggs, resumed his book. At ten o'clock BullAnstruther came with a guard and stripped him to the skin, examiningevery inch of his prison garments. The bedding followed; the cell wasgone over microscopically. Von Kettler, permitted to dress again, smiled ironically. That smile stirred Anstruther's gall. 

"We know you're just a big bluff, Von Kettler, " snarled the big man. "Don't think you've got us going. We're just taking the usualprecautions, that's all. "

"So unnecessary, " smiled Von Kettler. "To-night I shall dine at theAmbassador grill. Watch for me there. I'll leave a memento. "

Anstruther went out, choking. Early in the afternoon two guards camefor Von Kettler. 

"Your sister's come to say good-by to you, " he was told, as he wastaken to the visitors' cell. 

This was a large and fairly comfortable cell in a corridor leading offthe death house, designed to impress visitors with the belief that itwas the condemned man's permanent abode; and, by a sort of convention, it was understood that prisoners were not to disabuse their visitors'minds of the idea. The convention had been honorably kept. Thevisitor's approach was checked by a grill, with a two-yards spacebetween it and the bars of the cell. Within this space a guard wasseated: it was his duty to see that nothing passed. 

 * * * * *

As soon as Von Kettler had been temporarily established in his newquarters, a pretty, fair-haired young woman came along the corridor, conducted by the Superintendent himself. She walked with dignity, herbearing was proud, she smiled at her brother through the grill, andthere was no trace of weeping about her eyes. 

She bowed with pretty formality, and Von Kettler saluted her with anairy wave of the hand. Then they began to speak, and the German guardwho had been selected for the purpose of interpreting to theSuperintendent afterward, was baffled. 

It was not German--neither was it French, Italian, or any of theRomance languages. As a matter of fact, it was Hungarian. 

Not until the half-hour was up did they lapse into English, and allthe while they might have been conversing on art, literature, orsport. There was no hint of tragedy in this last meeting. 

"Good-by, Rudy, " smiled his sister, "I'll see you soon. "

"To-night or to-morrow, " replied Von Kettler indifferently. 

The girl blew him a kiss. She seemed to detach it from her mouth andextend it through the grill with a graceful gesture of the hand, andVon Kettler caught it with a romantic wave of the fingers and strainedit to his heart. But it was only one of those queer foreign ways. Nothing was passed. The alert guard, sitting under the electric light, was sure of that. 

They searched Von Kettler again after he was back in the death house. The other cells were empty. In three of them detectives were placed. In the yard beyond the hangman was experimenting with the trap. Hehimself was under close observation. Nothing was being left to chance. 

 * * * * *

At seven o'clock two men collided in the death-house entrance. One wasa guard, carrying Von Kettler's last meal on a tray. He had demandedPerigord truffles and paté de foie gras, cold lobster, endive salad, and near-beer, and he had got them. The other was the chaplain, in astate of visible agitation. 

"If he was an atheist and mocked at me it wouldn't be so bad, " thegood man declared. "I've had plenty of that kind. But he says he's notgoing to be hanged. He's mad, mad as a March hare. The Government hasno right to send an insane man to the gallows. "

"All bluff, my dear Mr. Wright, " answered the Superintendent, when thechaplain voiced his protest. "He thinks he can get away with it. Thecommission has pronounced him sane, and he must pay the penalty of hiscrime. "

By that mysterious process of telegraphy that exists in all penalinstitutions, Von Kettler's boast that he would beat the hangman hadbecome the common information of the inmates. Bets were being laid, and the odds against Von Kettler ranged from ten to fifteen to one. Itwas generally agreed, however, that Von Kettler would die game to thelast. 

"You all ready, Mr. Squires?" the prowling Superintendent asked thehangman. 

"Everything's O. K. , sir. "

The Superintendent glanced at the group of newspaper men gatheredabout the gallows. They, too, had heard of the prisoner's boast. Oneof them asked him a question. He silenced him with an angry look. 

"The prisoner is in his cell, and will be led out in ten minutes. Youshall see for yourselves how much truth there it in this absurdity, "he said. 

 * * * * *

He looked at his watch. It lacked five minutes of eight. Thepreparations for an execution had been reduced almost to a formula. One minute in the cell, twenty seconds to the trap, forty seconds forthe hangman to complete his arrangements: two minutes, and then thethud of the false floor. 

Four minutes of eight. The little group had fallen silent. The hangmanfurtively took a drink from his hip-pocket flask. Three minutes! TheSuperintendent walked back to the door of the death house and noddedto the guard. 

"Bring him out quick!" he said. 

The guard shot the bolt of Von Kettler's cell. The Superintendent sawhim enter, heard a loud exclamation, and hurried to his side. Oneglance told him that the prisoner had made good his boast. 

Von Kettler's cell was empty!

CHAPTER II

_Conference_

Captain Richard Rennell, of the U. S. Air Service, but temporarilydetached to Intelligence, thought that Fredegonde Valmy had neverlooked so lovely as when he helped her out of the cockpit. 

Her dark hair fell in disorder over her flushed cheeks, and her eyeswere sparkling with pleasure. 

"A thousand thanks, M'sieur Rennell, " she said, in her low voice withits slight foreign intonation. "Never have I enjoyed a ride more thanto-day. And I shall see you at Mrs. Wansleigh's ball to-night?"

"I hope so--if I'm not wanted at Headquarters, " answered Dick, lookingat the girl in undisguised admiration. 

"Ah, that Headquarters of yours! It claims so much of your time!" shepouted. "But these are times when the Intelligence Service demandsmuch of its men, is it not so?"

"Who told you I was attached to Intelligence?" demanded Dick bluntly. 

She laughed mockingly. "Do you think that is not known all overWashington?" she asked. "It is strange that Intelligence should actlike the--the ostrich, who buries his head in the sand and thinks thatno one sees him because it is hidden. "

Dick looked at the girl in perplexity. During the past month he hadcompletely lost his head and heart over her, and he was trying to viewher with the dispassionate judgment that his position demanded. 

As the niece of the Slovakian Ambassador, Mademoiselle Valmy had theentry to Washington society. The Ambassador was away on leave, and shehad appeared during his absence, but she had been acceptedunquestionably at the Embassy, where she had taken up her quarters, explaining--as the Ambassador confirmed by cable--that she had sailedunder a misconception as to the date of his leave. 

 * * * * *

Brunette, beautiful, charming, she had a score of hearts to play with, and yet Dick flattered himself that he stood first. Perhaps the othersdid too. 

"Of course, " the girl went on, "with the Invisible Emperor threateningorganized society, you gentlemen find yourselves extremely busy. Well, let us hope that you locate him and bring him to book. "

"Sometimes, " said Dick slowly, "I almost think that you know somethingabout the Invisible Emperor. "

Again she laughed merrily. "Now, if you had said that my sympathieswere with the Invisible Emperor, I might have been surprised into anacknowledgment, " she answered. "After all, he does stand for thataristocracy that has disappeared from the modern world, does he not?For refinement of manners, for beauty of life, for all those thingsmen used to prize. "

"Likewise for the existence of the vast body of the nation inignorance and poverty, in filth and squalor, " answered Dick. "No, mysympathies are with law and order and democracy, and your InvisibleEmperor and his crowd are simply a gang of thieves and hold-up men. "

"Be careful!" A warning fire burned in the girl's eyes. "At least, itis known that the Emperor's ears are long. "

"So are a jackass's, " retorted Dick. 

He was sorry next moment, for the girl received his answer in icysilence. In his car, which conveyed them from the tarmac to theEmbassy, she received all his overtures in the same silence. A frigidlittle bow was her farewell to him, while Dick, struggling betweenresentment and humiliation, sat dumb and wretched at the wheel. 

Yet the idea that Fredegonde Valmy had any knowledge of the conspiracyor its leaders never entered Dick's head. He was only miserable thathe had offended her, and he would have done anything to havestraightened out the trouble. 

 * * * * *

It seemed impossible that in the year 1940 the peace of the civilizedworld could be threatened by an international conspiracy bent onrestoring absolutism, and yet each day showed more clearly the immenseramifications of the plot. Each day, too, brought home to theinvestigating governments more clearly the fact that the things theyhad discovered were few in number in comparison with those they hadnot. 

The headquarters of the conspirators had never been discovered, and itwas suspected that the powerful mind behind them was intentionallyleading the investigators along false trails. 

The conspiracy was world-wide. It had been behind the revolution thathad recreated an absolutist monarchy in Spain. It had plunged Italyinto civil war. It had thrown England into the convulsions of asuccession of general strikes, using the communist movement as a cloakfor its activities. 

But nobody dreamed that America could become a fertile field for itsinsidious propaganda. Yet it was behind the millions of adherents ofthe so-called Freemen's Party, clamoring for the destruction of theconstitution. Upon the anarchy that would follow the absolutist regimewas to be erected. 

Already the mysterious powers had struck. Departments of State hadbeen entered and important papers abstracted. The _Germania_ hadmysteriously disappeared in mid-Atlantic, and a shipping panic hadensued. There were tales of mysterious figures materializing out ofnothingness. It was known that the conspirators were in possession ofcertain chemical and electrical devices with which they hoped toachieve their ends. 

The Superintendent of the penitentiary had had in his pocket anauthorization to stop the execution of Von Kettler after he stood onthe trap. Dead, he would be a mere mark of vengeance: alive, he mightbe persuaded to furnish some clue to the headquarters of themiscreants. 

 * * * * *

And behind the conspirators loomed the unknown figure that signeditself the Invisible Emperor--in the communications that poured in tothe White House and to the rulers of other nations. In the threatsthat were materializing with stunning swiftness. 

Who was he? Rumor said that a former European ruler had not died aswas supposed: that a coffin weighted with lead had been buried, andthat he himself in his old age, had gone forth to a mad scheme ofworld conquest with a body of his nobles. 

It had been practically a state of war since the shipment of gold, guarded by a detachment of police, had been stolen in broad daylightoutside Baltimore, the police clubbed and killed by invisibleassailants--as they claimed. The press was under censorship, troopsunder arms, and it was reported that the fleet was mobilizing. 

In the midst of it all, Washington shopped, danced, feasted, flirted, like a swarm of may flies over a treacherous stream. 

Intelligence was alert. As Dick started to drive away from theSlovakian Embassy, a man stepped quickly to the side of the car andthrust an envelope into his hand. Dick opened it quickly. He waswanted by Colonel Stopford at once, not at the camouflagedHeadquarters at the War Department, but at the real Headquarters whereno papers were kept but weighty decisions were made. And to thatdevious course the Government had already been driven. 

Dick parked his car in a side street--it would have been underespionage in any of the official parking places--and set off at asmart walk toward his destination. Nobody would have guessed, from theappearance of the streets, that a national calamity was impending. Theshopping crowds were swarming along the sidewalks, cars tailed eachother through the streets; only a detachment of soldiers on the WhiteHouse lawn lent a touch of the martial to the scene. 

 * * * * *

The building which Dick entered was an ordinary ten-story one in thebusiness section; the various legal firms and commercial concerns thatoccupied it would have been greatly surprised to have known theidentity of the Ira T. Graves, Importer, whose name appeared in modestletters upon the opaque glass door on the seventh story. Inside aflapper stenographer--actually one of the most trusted members ofIntelligence's staff--asked Dick's name, which she knew perfectlywell. Not a smile or a flicker of an eyelid betrayed the fact. 

"Mr. Rennell, " said Dick with equal gravity. 

The girl passed into an inner room, and a buzzer sounded. In a fewmoments the girl came back. 

"Mr. Graves will be here in a few minutes, Mr. Rennell, if you'llkindly wait in his office, " she said. 

Dick thanked her, and walked through into the empty office. He waitedthere till the girl had closed the door behind him, then went out byanother door and found himself again in the corridor. Opposite him wasa door with the words "Entrance 769" and a hand pointing down thecorridor to where the Intelligence service had established anotherperfectly innocent front. Dick tapped lightly at this door, and a keyturned in the lock. 

The man who stepped quickly back was one of the heads of the CivilService. The man at the flat-topped desk was Colonel Stopford. The manon a chair beside him was one of the heads of the police force. 

 * * * * *

The Colonel, a big, elderly man, dressed in a grey sack suit, checkedDick's commencing salutation. "Never mind etiquette, Rennell, " hesaid. "Sit down. You've heard about the man Von Kettler's escape lastnight, of course?"

"Yes, sir. "

"It's known, then. We can't keep things dark. He vanished from hiscell in the death house, three minutes before the time appointed forhis execution, though, as a matter of fact, he wasn't going to behanged. Apparently he walked through the walls. 

"There's a sequel to it, Rennell. It seems he had told theassistant-superintendent, a man named Anstruther, that he'd meet himat a restaurant in town that night. He promised to leave him amemento. Anstruther happened to remember this boast of Von Kettler's, and he surrounded the restaurant with armed detectives, on the chancethat the fellow would show up. Rennell, _Von Kettler was there!_"

"He went to this restaurant, sir?"

"He walked in, just before the place was surrounded, engaged a table, and ordered a sumptuous meal. He told the waiter his name, said heexpected a friend to join him, walked into the wash-room--andvanished! Two minutes later Anstruther and his men were on the job. Von Kettler never came out of the wash-room, so far as anybody knows. 

"In the midst of the hue and cry somebody pointed to the table thatVon Kettler had engaged. There was a twenty-dollar bill upon it, and ascrap of paper reading: 'I've kept my word. Von K. '"

Colonel Stopford looked at Dick fixedly. "Rennell, we may be fools, "he said, "but we realize what we're up against. It's a big thing, andwe're going to need all our fighting grit to overcome it. You're oneof the four men we're depending on. We're counting on you because ofyour record, and because of your degree in science at Heidelberg. ThePresident wishes you to take charge of the whole Eastern IntelligenceDistrict, covering the entire south-eastern seaboard of the UnitedStates. You are to have complete freedom of action, and all civil, military, and naval officials have received instructions to co-operatewith you. "

"There goes Mrs. Wansleigh's ball, " thought Dick, but he said nothing. 

 * * * * *

"We're not the hunters, Dick Rennell, " went on Colonel Stopford. "We're hiding under cover, and I'm counting on you to turn the tables. They even know my office is here. I had a long distance call fromSavannah this morning in mocking vein. They advised me to have theWhite House watched to-night. I warned the President, and we've postedguards all round it. "

"They held the wire while you called up the President?" asked Dick. 

"Damn it, no! They called me up from Scranton the instant he'dfinished speaking. They have the power of the devil, Rennell, withthat infernal invisibility invention of theirs. Rennell, we'refighting unknown forces. Who this Invisible Emperor is, we don't evenknow. But one thing we've found out. He has his headquarters somewherein your district. Somewhere along the south Atlantic seaboard. Thegreater part of his activities emanate from there. But we're fightingin the dark. The clue, the master clue that will enable us to locatehim--that's what we lack. "

The sun had set, it was beginning to grow dark. Colonel Stopfordswitched on the electric lamp beside his desk. 

"What have you to say, Rennell?" he asked; and Dick was aware that thetwo other men were regarding him attentively. 

"It's evident, " said Dick, "that Von Kettler possessed this means ofinvisibility in his cell, and wasn't detected. He simply slipped outwhen the guard came to fetch him. "

"Invisibility? Yes! But invisible's not the same thing astransparent, " cried Stopford. "These folks have operated in broaddaylight. They're transparent, damn them! Not even a shadow! You knowwhat I mean, Rennell! What I'm thinking of! That crazy man you were intouch with six months ago, who prophesied this! We turned him down! Heshowed me a watch and said the salvation of the world was inside thecase! I thought him insane!"

 * * * * *

"You mean Luke Evans, sir. That watch was his pocket model. He wentoff in a huff, saying the time would come when we'd want him and notbe able to find him. "

"But, damn him, he wanted to produce universal darkness, or some suchnonsense, Rennell, and I told him that we wanted light, not darkness. "

"It wasn't exactly that, sir. " Colonel Stopford was a man of the oldschool: he had been an artillery officer in the Great War, and wascharacteristically impatient of new notions. Dick began carefully:"You'll remember, sir, old Evans claimed to have been the inventor ofthat shadow-breaking device that was stolen from him and sold inEngland. "

"To a moving picture company!" snorted Stopford. "I asked him whatmoving pictures had to do with war. "

"Evans was convinced that the invention would be applied to war. Heclaimed that it made the modern methods of military camouflage out ofdate completely. He said that by destroying shadows one could produceinvisibility, since visibility consists in the refraction of wavelengths by material objects. 

"When they stole his invention, he foresaw that it would be used inwar. He set to work to nullify his own invention. He told me that hehad unintentionally given to the enemies of the United States a meansof bringing us to our knees, since he believed that British motionpicture company was actually a subsidiary of Krupp's. He worked out amethod of counteracting it. "

"You must get him, Rennell. Even if it's all nonsense, we can't affordto let any chance go. If Evans's invention will counteract this damnedinvisibility business--"

The telephone on the Colonel's desk rang. He picked it up, and hisface assumed an expression of incredulity. He looked about him, like aman bewildered. He beckoned to the police official, who hurried to hisside, and thrust the receiver into his hand. The official listened. 

"All right, " he said. He turned to Dick and the Civil Servicerepresentative. 

"Gentlemen, " he said, "the President has disappeared from his officein the White House, and there are grave fears that he has beenkidnapped!"

CHAPTER III

_In the White House_

Colonel Stopford's car had been parked around the corner of thebuilding, and within a minute the four men were inside it, Stopford atthe wheel, and racing in the direction of the White House. A nod tothe guard at the gate, and they were inside the grounds. At theentrance a single guard, in place of the four who should have beenposted there, challenged sharply, and attempted to bar the way, notrecognizing Dick or Stopford in their civilian clothes. 

"Where's your officer?" demanded Stopford sharply. 

Half-cowed by the Colonel's manner, the young recruit hesitated, andthe four swept him out of the way and hurried on. The scene outsidethe main entrance to the White House was one of indescribableconfusion. Soldiers were swarming in confused groups, some trying toforce an entrance, others pouring out. Every moment civilians, streaming over the lawn, added to the number. Discipline seemed almostabandoned. From inside the building came outbursts of screams andcursing, the scuffling of a mob. 

"Roscoe! Roscoe!" shouted Stopford. "Where's the President'ssecretary? Who's seen him? Let us pass immediately!"

No one paid the least attention to him. But a short, bare-headedcivilian, who was struggling in the crowd, heard, and shouted inanswer, waved his arms, and began to force his way toward the four. Itwas Roscoe, the secretary of President Hargreaves. The President was achildless widower, and Roscoe lived in the White House with him andwas intimately in his confidence. 

Roscoe gained Stopford's side. "Say--they've got him!" he panted. "They've got him somewhere--inside the building. They're trying to gethim out! We've got to save him--but we can't see them--or him. They'vemade him invisible too, curse them! I heard him crying, 'Help me, Roscoe!' He saw me, I tell you--and I didn't know where he was!"

 * * * * *

The little secretary was almost incoherent with fear and anger. Thefive men, forming a wedge, hurled themselves forward. Out of the WhiteHouse entrance appeared a tall officer, revolver in hand. It wasColonel Simpson, of the President's staff. Half beside himself, heswept the weapon menacingly about him, shouting incoherently, andclearing a passage, into which the five hurled themselves. 

Stopford seized his revolver hand, and after a brief struggle Simpsonrecognized him. 

"He's in the building!" he shouted wildly. "Somewhere upstairs! I'mtrying to form a cordon, but this damned mob's in the way. Kick thosecivilians out!" he cried to the soldiers. "Shoot them if they don'tgo! Guard the windows!"

Stopford and Dick, at the head of the wedge, pushed past into theWhite House. The interior was packed, men were struggling franticallyon the staircase; it seemed hopeless to try to do anything. 

Suddenly renewed yells sounded from above, a scream of anguish, howlsof terror. There came a downward surge, then a forward and upward one, which carried the two men up the stairs and into the President'sprivate apartments above. 

In the large reception-room a mob was struggling at a window, beneatha blaze of electric light. A soldier was standing there like a statue, his face fixed with a leer of horror. In his hands was a rifle, with ablood-stained bayonet, dripping upon the hardwood floor at the edge ofthe rug. Upon the rug itself a stream of blood was spouting out of theair. 

Dick looked at the sight and choked. There was something appalling inthe sight: it was the quintessence of horror, that widening pool ofblood, staining the rug, and flowing from an invisible body thatwrithed and twisted, while moans of anguish came from unseen lips. 

Colonel Stopford leaped back, livid and staring. "God, it's goteyes--two eyes!" he shouted. 

Dick saw them too. The eyes, which alone were visible, were about sixinches from the floor, and they were appearing and disappearing, asthey opened and shut alternately. It was a man lying there, a dyingman, pierced by the soldier's bayonet by pure accident, dying and yetinvisible. 

 * * * * *

The mob had scattered with shrieks of terror, but a few bolder spiritsremained in a thin circle about that fearful thing on the rug. Dickbent over the man, and felt the outlines of the writhing body. It wasa man, apparently dressed in some sort of uniform, but this wascovered, from the top of the head to the feet, with a sort of sheersilken garment, bifurcating below the waist, and resembling a cocoon. It seemed to appear and alternately to vanish. 

Dick seized the filmy stuff in his fingers, rent it, and stripped itaway. Yells of terror and amazement broke from the throats of all. Instantly the thin circle of spectators had become reinforced by astruggling mass of men. 

The half-visible cocoon clung to Dick's body like spider webs. But theman who had been wearing it had sprung instantly into view beneath thecluster of electric lights. He was a fair-haired young fellow of aboutthirty years, his features white and set in the agony of death. 

He was dressed in a trim uniform of black, with silver braid, and onhis shoulders were the insignia of a lieutenant. He opened his eyes, blue as the skies, and stared about him. He seemed to understand whathad happened to him. 

"Dogs!" he muttered. 

Shrieks of fury answered him. The mob surged toward him as if to grindhis face to pieces under their feet--and then recoiled, mouthing andgibbering. But it was at Dick that they were looking, not at the dyingman. 

He raised himself upon one elbow with a mighty effort. "His Majestythe Invisible Emperor! Long be his reign triumphant!" he chanted. Itwas his last credo. The words broke from his lips accompanied by atorrent of red foam. His head dropped back, his body slipped down; hewas gone. And no one seemed to observe his passing. They were allscreaming and gibbering at Dick. 

"Rennell! Rennell!" yelled Stopford. "Where are you, Rennell? God, man, what's happened to your legs?"

Dick looked down at himself. For a moment he had the illusion that hewas a head and a trunk, floating in the air. His lower limbs hadbecome invisible, except for patches of trousering that seemed todrift through space. The mob in the room had fallen back gaping at himin horror. 

Then Dick understood. It was the invisible garment that had coileditself about him. He tore it from him and became visibly a man oncemore. 

Shouts from another room! A surging movement of the crowd toward it. The muffled sounds of an automatic pistol, fitted with a silencer!Then screams:

"The devils are in there! They're murdering the soldiers!"

There followed a panic-stricken rush, more muffled firing, and thenthe sharp roar of rifles, and the fall of plaster. Some one wasbawling the President's name. The rooms became a mass of milling humanbeings, lost to all self-control. 

A bedlam of noise and struggle. Men fought with one another blindly, cursing soldiers fired promiscuously among the mob, riddling thewalls, stabbing at the air. The plaster was falling in great chunkseverywhere, filling the rooms with a heavy white cloud, in which allchoked and struggled. The yells of the civilian mob below, strugglinghelplessly in the packed crowd that wedged the great stairway, madebabel. Outside the White House a dense mob that filled the lawns wasyelling back, and struggling to gain admittance. Suddenly the lightswent out. 

"They've cut the wires!" rose a wild, wailing voice. "The devils havecut the wires! Kill them! Kill everybody!"

His cry ended in a gurgle. Somewhere in that dark hell a struggle wasgoing on, a well defined struggle, different from the random, aimlessbattling of the half-crazed soldiers and the civilians. PresidentHargreaves was still within the walls of the White House, it wasknown; it was physically impossible for him to have been carried awaywhen every foot of space was packed. And through that darkness theinvisible assailants were edging him, foot by foot, toward theoutside. 

 * * * * *

Dick was on the edge of this silent battle. He sensed it. Bracinghimself against a bureau, while the mob surged past him, he tried topierce the gloom, to reinforce with his perceptions what his instincttold him. A soldier, crazed with fear, came leaping at him, bayonetleveled. He thrust with a grunt. Dick avoided the glancing steel by ahand's breadth, and, as the impetus of the man's attack carried himforward, caught him beneath the chin with a stiff right-hand jolt thatsent him sprawling. 

From below the cries broke out again, with renewed violence: "They'vegot the President! Get them! Get them! Close all doors and windows!"

But a door went crashing down somewhere, to the tune of savage yells. The mob was pouring down the stairs. It was growing less packed above. Dick heard Stopford's voice calling his name. 

"Here, sir" he shouted back, and the two men collided. 

"For God's sake do what you can, Rennell!" shouted the Colonel. "They've got the President downstairs. They had him in this very room, in the thick of it all. I heard him cry out, as if under a gag. Theyput one of those damned cloths over him. God, Rennell, I'm goingcrazy!"

The upper floor of the White House was almost empty now. Dick thrusthimself into the crowd that still jammed the stairs. He reached theground floor. It was lighter here, but a glance showed him that it wasimpossible to attempt to restore any semblance of order. The big EastRoom was jammed with a fighting, cursing throng. Dick stumbled overthe bodies of those who had fallen in the press, or had been shotdown. Outside the mob was thickening, swarming through the grounds andscreeching like madmen. 

 * * * * *

Nothing that could be done! Dick found himself caught once more in thehuman torrent. Presently he was wedged up against a broken window. Heprecipitated himself through the frame, dropped to the ground, stoppedfor an instant to catch breath. 

The yelling mob was congregated about the main entrance of the WhiteHouse, and on this side the grounds were comparatively empty. As Dickstopped, trying desperately to form some plan of action, he heardfootsteps and low voices near him. Then two men came toward him, followed by three or four others. 

The men--but, though the light was faint, Dick realized instantly thatthey were wearing invisible garments. He could see nothing of them; hecould see through where they seemed to be--the trees, the buildings ofthe streets. Yet they were at his elbow. And they saw him. He heardone of them leap, and sprang aside as the butt of a pistol descendedthrough the air and dropped where his head had been. 

Yet no hand had seemed to hold it. It had been a pistol, reversed, andflashing downward, to be arrested in mid-air six inches from his face. But the men were not wholly invisible. Nearly six feet above theground, three or four pairs of eyes were staring malevolently intoDick's. Only the eyes were there. 

The two foremost men were breathing heavily. They were carryingsomething. Grotesquely through a rent in the invisible garment Dicksaw a patch of trouser. He heard a muffled sigh. President Hargreaves, in the hands of his abductors!

Dick's actions were reflex. As the pistol hung beside his face, hesnatched at it, wrested it away, struck with it, and heard a curse andfelt the yielding impact of bone and flesh. He had missed the head butstruck the shoulder. Next moment hands gripped the weapon, and adesperate struggle began. 

 * * * * *

It was torn from Dick's grasp. He struck out at random, and his fistcollided with the chin of a substantial flesh and blood human being. Invisible arms grasped him. He fought free. The pistol slashed hisface sidewise, the sight ripping a strip of flesh from the cheek. Hewas surrounded, he was being beaten down, though he was fightinggamely. 

"Kill the swine! Shoot! Shoot!" Dick heard one of his assailantsmuttering. 

Out of the void appeared the blue muzzle of another automatic, with asilencer on it. Dick ducked as a flame spurted from it. He felt thebullet stir his hair. He grasped at the hand that held it, and missed. Then he was held fast, and the muzzle swung implacably toward his headagain. Helpless, he watched it describe that arc of death. It was onlylater that he wondered why he had fought all the while in silence, instead of crying for help. 

But of a sudden the pistol was dashed aside. A woman's voice spokeperemptorily, in some language Dick did not understand. And he saw hereyes among the eyes that glared at him. Dark eyes that he knew, evenif the voice had not revealed her identity. The eyes and voice ofFredegonde Valmy!

Dick cried her name. He put forth all his strength in a finalstruggle. Suddenly he felt a stunning impact on the back of the head. He slipped, reeled, threw out his hands, and sank down unconscious onthe grass at the side of the path. 

CHAPTER IV

_The Invisible Ambassador_

Fredegonde Valmy implicated in the conspiracy! That was the firstthought that flashed into Dick's mind as he recovered consciousness. He might have suspected it! But the idea that the girl he loved wasbound up with the murderous gang that was attacking the veryfoundations of civilization chilled him to the soul. 

Dick had been picked up a few minutes after he had been struck down, identified by Colonel Stopford as he was about to be removed to ahospital, and carried into the White House. Order had been restored bythe arrival of a detachment of troops from Fort Myers, the severedcables located and mended, and by midnight the interior of thePresidential home had been made habitable again. 

President Hargreaves was gone--kidnapped despite the utmost efforts toprotect him; and it was impossible to conceal that fact from theworld. But the wheels of government still revolved. All night anemergency council sat in the White House, and, deciding that in a timeof such grave danger heroic means must be adopted, with the consent ofsuch of the Congressional leaders as could be summoned, a Council ofDefence was organized. 

The whole country east of the Mississippi was placed under martiallaw. The fleet and army were put on a war footing. Flights ofairplanes were assembled at numerous points along the easternseaboard. To this Council Donald was attached as head of Intelligencefor the Eastern Division. Yet all this availed little unless thelocation of the Invisible Empire could be ascertained, and, despitetelegraphic reports that came in hourly, alleging to have discoveredits headquarters, nothing had been achieved in this direction. 

 * * * * *

The garment taken from the slain soldier had been examined by ahalf-dozen of the leading chemists of the East. Pending the arrivalfrom New York of the celebrated Professor Hosmeyer, it was depositedunder military guard in a dark closet. The result was unfortunate. Thegarment exhibited to the assembled scientists was a mere bifurcatedsilken bag. 

The gas with which it had been impregnated, though it had been heavyenough to adhere to the fabric for hours, had also been volatileenough to have disappeared completely, leaving a residue which wasidentified as a magnesium isotope. 

Equally spectacular had been the disappearance of MademoiselleFredegonde Valmy. A cable from the Slovakian Ambassador had arrived afew hours later, denying her authenticity. And with her disappearancecame the discovery that she had been at the head of an espionagesystem with ramifications in every state department, and in everystatesman's home. 

Three days passed with no sign from the enemy. The Council sat allday. In the executive offices of the White House Dick toiledceaselessly, planning, receiving reports, organizing the flights ofairplanes at strategic points throughout his district. From time totime he would be summoned to the Council. At night he threw himselfupon a cot in his office and slept a sleep broken by the constantarrival of messengers. And still there was no clue to the location ofthe headquarters of the marauders. 

But in those three days there had been no sign of them. Hope hadsucceeded despair; in the rebound of confidence the populace wasbeginning to ridicule the nation-wide precautions against what werecoming to be considered merely a gang of super-criminals. It was evenwhispered that President Hargreaves had not been kidnapped at all. TheFreemen's Party accused the Government of a plot to subvert popularliberties. 

 * * * * *

Dick received a summons on the third evening. Utterly worn out withhis work, he pulled himself together and made his way into the BlueRoom, where the Council was assembled. Vice-president Tomlinson, anelderly man, was in the chair. A non-entity, pushed into a post it hadbeen thought he would adorn innocuously, he had been overwhelmed byhis succession to the chief office of State. 

Tomlinson did not like Dick, or any of the hustling younger officerswho, unlike himself, realized the real significance of the danger thatoverhung the country. He sat pompously in his leather chair, regardingDick as he entered in obedience to the summons. 

"Well, Captain Rennell, what have you to report to us this evening?"he inquired, as Dick saluted and stood to attention at the table. 

"We're improving our concentrations, Mr. Vice-president. We've eightflights of seaplanes scouring the coast in the hope of locating thestronghold of the Invisible Emperor. We've--"

"I'm sick and tired of that title, " shouted Tomlinson. He sprang tohis feet, his face flushed with anger. His nerves had broken under thecontinuous strain. "I'll give you my opinion, Captain Rennell, " hesaid. "And that is that this so-called Invisible Emperor is a myth. 

"A gang of thieves has invented a paint that renders theminconspicuous, has created a panic, and is taking advantage of it toterrorize the country. The whole business is poppycock, in my opinion, and the sooner this bubble bursts the better. Well, sir, what have youto say to that?"

"Have you ever seen any of these men in their invisible clothing, if Imay ask, Mr. Vice-president?" inquired Dick, trying to keep down hisanger. His nerves, too, were badly frazzled. 

"No, sir, I have not, but my opinion is that this story is grosslyexaggerated, and that the persons responsible are the reporters of oursensational press!" thundered Tomlinson. 

 * * * * *

He looked about him, a weak man proud of having asserted hisauthority. Somebody laughed. 

Tomlinson glared at Dick, his rubicund visage purpling. But it was notDick who had laughed. Nor any one at the council table. 

That laugh had come from the wall beside the door. Again it brokeforth, high-pitched, cold, derisive. All heads turned as if uponpivots to see who had uttered it. 

"Good God!" exclaimed Secretary Norris, of the War Department, andslumped in his chair. 

Five feet eight inches from the floor a pair of grey eyes looked atthe Council members out of emptiness. Grey eyes, a man's eyes, cool, contemptuous, and filled with authority, with a contemptuous sense ofsuperiority that left every man there dumb. 

Dick was the first to recover himself. He stepped forward, not towhere the invisible man was standing, but to a point between him andthe door. 

That cold laugh broke forth again. "Gentlemen, I am an ambassador frommy sovereign, who chooses to be known as the Invisible Emperor, " camethe words. "As such, I claim immunity. Not that I greatly care, shouldyou wish to violate the laws of nations and put me to death. But, believe me, in such case the retribution will be a terrible one. "

Suddenly the envoy peeled off the gas-impregnated garments thatcovered him. He stood before the Council, a fair-haired young man, clad in the same fashion of trim black uniform as the bayonettedsoldier had worn upstairs three nights before. 

He bowed disdainfully, and it was Tomlinson who shouted:

"Arrest that man! I know his face! I've seen it in the papers. He'sVon Kettler, the murderer who escaped from jail in an invisible suit. "

"Oh, come, Mr. Vice-president, " laughed Von Kettler, "are you surethis isn't all very much exaggerated?"

Tomlinson sank back in his chair, his ruddy face covered with sweat. Dick stared at Von Kettler. A suspicion was forming in his mind. Hehad seen eyes like those before, dark instead of grey, and yet withthe same look of pride and breeding in them; the look of the face, too, impossible to mistake--he knew!

Fredegonde Valmy was Von Kettler's sister!

 * * * * *

"Well, gentlemen, am I to receive the courtesies of an ambassador?"inquired Van Kettler, advancing. 

"You shall have the privileges of the gallows rope!" shoutedTomlinson. "Arrest that man at once, Captain Rennell!"

"Pardon me, Mr. Vice-president, " suggested the Secretary for the Navyblandly, "but perhaps it would be more desirable to hear what he hasto say. "

"Immunity for thieves, robbers, murderers!"

"Might I suggest, " said Von Kettler suavely, "that, since the UnitedStates has honored my master by placing itself upon a war footing, ithas accorded him the rights of a belligerent?"

"We'll hear you, Mr. Von Kettler, " said the Secretary of State, glancing along the table. Three or four nodded, two shook their heads:Tomlinson only glared speechlessly at the intruder. Von Kettleradvanced to the table and laid a paper upon it. 

"You recognize that signature, gentlemen?" he asked. 

At the bottom of the paper Dick saw scrawled the bold and unmistakablesignature of President Hargreaves. 

"An order signed by the President of your country, " purred VonKettler, "ordering your military forces replaced upon a peace footing, and the acceptance of our conditions. They are not onerous, and willnot interfere with the daily life of the country. Merely a littlechange in that outworn document, the Constitution. My master rulesAmerica henceforward. "

Somebody laughed: another laughed: but it was the Secretary of Statewho did the fine thing. He took up the paper bearing what purported tobe President Hargreaves's signature, and tore it in two. 

"The people of this country are her rulers, " he said, "not an old mandragooned into signing a proclamation while in captivity--if indeedthat is President Hargreaves's signature. "

 * * * * *

There came a sudden burst of applause. Von Kettler's face became themask of a savage beast. He shook his fist furiously. 

"You call my master a forger?" he shouted. "You yourselves repudiateyour own Constitution, which places the control of army and navy inthe hands of your President? You refuse to honor his signature?"

"Listen to me, Mr. Von Kettler!" The voice of the Secretary of Statecut like a steel edge. "You totally mistake the temper of the peopleof this country. We don't surrender, even to worthy adversaries, muchless to a gang of common thieves, murderers, and criminals likeyourselves. You have been accorded the privilege you sought, that ofan envoy, and that was straining the point. Show yourself here againafter two minutes have elapsed, and you'll go to the gallows--forkeeps. "

"Dogs!" shouted Von Kettler, beside himself with fury. "Your doom isupon you even at this moment. I have but to wave my arm, andWashington shall be destroyed, and with her a score of other cities. Itell you you are at our mercy. Thousands of lives shall pay for thisinsult to my master. I warn you, such a catastrophe is coming as shallshow you the Invisible Emperor does not threaten in vain!"

With complete nonchalance the Secretary of State took out his watch. "One minute and fifteen seconds remaining. Captain Rennell, " he said. "At the expiration of that time, put Mr. Von Kettler under arrest. Iadvise you to go back to your master quickly, Mr. Von Kettler, " headded, "and tell him that we'll have no dealings with him, now orever. "

 * * * * *

For a moment longer Von Kettler stood glaring; then, with a laugh ofderision and a gesture of the hands he vanished from view. And, thoughthey might have expected that denouement, the members of the Councilleaped to their feet, staring incredulously at the place where he hadbeen. Nothing of Von Kettler was visible, not even the eyes, and theresounded not the slightest footfall. 

Dick sprang forward to the door, but his outstretched arms encounteredonly emptiness. In spite of the Secretary of State's instructions, hewas almost minded to apprehend the man. If he could get him!

The corridor was empty. A guard of soldiers was at the entrance, butthey did not block the entrance. Even now Von Kettler might be passingthem! Why didn't his feet sound upon the floor? How could a bulky manglide so smoothly?

Perhaps because Dick was undecided what to do, Von Kettler escapedhim. By the time he reached the guards he knew he had escaped. Suddenly there came an unexpected denouement. Somewhere on the WhiteHouse lawn a guard challenged, fired. The snap of one of the silencedautomatics answered him. 

When Dick and the guards reached the spot, the man was lying in acrumpled heap. 

"An airplane, " he gasped. "Invisible airplane. I--bumped into it. Men--in it. The damned dogs!"

He died. Dick stared around him. There was no sign of any airplane onthe lawn, nothing but the tents of the guards, white in the moonlight, and the grim array of anti-aircraft guns that Dick had placed there. 

But behind the White House, in hastily constructed hangars, were ahalf-dozen of the latest pursuit airships--beautiful slim hulls, heavily armored, with armored turrets containing each a quick-firerwith the new armor-piercing bullets. One of these ships, Dick's own, was kept perpetually warmed and ready to take the air. 

 * * * * *

Dick raced across the lawn, yelled to the startled guard in charge. The mechanics came running from their quarters. Almost by the timeDick reached it the ship was ready. 

He twirled the helicopter starter, and she roared and zoomed, takingan angle of a hundred and twenty-five degrees upward off a runway oftwenty yards. Into the air she soared, into the moonlight, up like anarrow for five hundred feet. 

Dick pulled the soaring lever, and she hung there, buzzing like a beeas her helicopters, counteracting the pull of gravity, held hercomparatively stable. He scanned the air all about him. 

Washington lay below, her myriad lights gleaming. Immediately beneathhim Dick saw the guns and the tents of the soldiers, and the littlegroup that was removing the body of the murdered soldier on astretcher. But there were no signs of any hostile craft. 

Had the murdered man really bumped into an invisible airship, or hadhe only thought he had? Had those devils learned to apply the gas tothe surfaces of airplanes? There was no reason why they should nothave done so. 

But surely the utmost ingenuity of man had not contrived to render amodern plane, with its metalwork and machinery, absolutelytransparent?

 * * * * *

And, again, how was it possible to have silenced the sound of engines, the whir of a propeller, so that there should be no auditoryindication whatever of a plane's presence?

Dick looked all about him. Nothing was in the air--he could have swornit. He replaced the soaring lever and banked in a close circle, hisglance piercing the night. No, there was nothing. 

Crash! Boom! The plane rocked violently, tossing upon gusts of air. Ahuge, gaping hole of blackness had suddenly appeared in the middle ofthe White House lawn. The tents were flat upon the ground. Through therising smoke clouds Dick saw tongues of flame. 

No shell that, but a bomb, and dropped from the skies less than fivehundred feet from where Dick hovered. Yet there was nothing visible inthe skies save the round orb of the moon. 

A rush of wind past Dick's face! One of the vanes of the helicoptercrumpled and fluttered away into the night. Dick needed no furtherpersuasion. The dead soldier had not lied. 

Von Kettler had begun the fulfillment of his threat!

CHAPTER V

_The Enemy Strikes_

As Dick's airship veered and side-slipped, he kicked hard on the leftrudder and brought the nose around. Furiously he sprayed the air witha leaden hail from his quick-firer. He heard a rush of wind go pasthim, and realized that his unseen antagonist had all but rammed him. 

Yet nothing was visible at all, save the moon and the empty sky. Hehad heard the rush of the prop-wash, but he had seen nothing, heardnothing else. Incredible as it seemed, the pilot was flying a planethat had attained not merely invisibility but complete absence of allsound. 

Dick side-slipped down, pancaked, and crashed. He emerged from a planewrecked beyond hope of early repair, yet luckily with no injury beyonda few minor bruises. He rushed toward the hangar, to encounter a bevyof scared mechanics. 

"Another plane! Rev one up quick!" he shouted. 

Planes were already being wheeled out, pilots in flying suits andgoggles were striding beside them. Dick ordered one of them away, stepped into his plane, and in a moment was in the air again. 

In the minute or two that had elapsed since the encounter, the enemyhad been active. Crash after crash was resounding from various partsof Washington. Buildings were rocking and toppling, débris strewed thestreets, fires were springing up everywhere. A thousand feet aloft, Dick could see the holocaust of destruction that was being wrought bythe infernal missiles. 

Bombs of such power had been the unattained ambition of everygovernment of the world--and it had been left to the men of theInvisible Emperor to attain to them. Whole streets went into ruin ateach discharge and from everywhere within the city the wailing cry ofthe injured went up, in a resonant moan of pain. 

In the central part of the city, the district about F Street and thegovernment buildings, nothing was standing, except those buildingsfashioned of structural steel, and these showed twisted girders likethe skeletons of primeval monsters, supporting sections of saggingfloors. Houses, hotels had melted into shapeless heaps of rubble, which filled the streets to a depth of a dozen yards, buryingeverything beneath them. Yet here and there could be seen the forms ofdead pedestrians, motor-cars emerging out of the débris, lying inevery conceivable position; horses, horribly mangled, were shriekingas they tried to free themselves. And yet, despite this ruin, thegeneral impression upon Dick's mind, as he beat to and fro, signalingto his flight to spread, was that of a vast, empty desolation. 

 * * * * *

Further away: where the ruin had not yet fallen, thousands of humanbeings were milling in a mass, those upon the fringes of the crowdperpetually breaking away, other swarms approaching them, so that theentire agglomeration resembled a seething whirlpool turning slowlyupon itself. 

Then of a sudden the strains of the national anthem floated up toDick's ears. A band was playing in the White House grounds. The tunewas ragged, and the drum came in a fraction of a second late, but animmense pride and elation filled Dick's soul. 

"They'll never beat us!" he thought, intensely, "with such a spiritas that!"

He had signaled his flight to spread, and search the air. He could seethe individual ships darting here and there over the immensity of thecity, but none knew better than he how fruitless their effort was. Andthe marauders had not ceased their deadly work. 

A bomb dropped near the Washington Monument, sending up a huge spoutof dust that veiled it from his eyes. Instinctively Dick shot towardthe scene. Slowly the dust subsided, and then a yell of exultationbroke from Dick's lips. The noble shaft still stood, a slim taperpointing to the skies. 

It was an omen of ultimate success, and Dick took heart. No, they'dnever beat the grim, unconquerable tenacity of the American people. 

Yet the damage was proceeding at a frightful rate. A bomb droppedsquarely on the Corcoran Gallery and resolved it into a heap of sillystones. A bomb fell in the middle of Pennsylvania Avenue, and thehouses on either side collapsed like houses of cards, falling into asulphurous, fiery pit. And still there was nothing visible but the skyand the moon. 

 * * * * *

Dick gritted his teeth and swore as he circled over the site ofdestruction, out of which tiny figures were struggling. He heard theclang of the fire bells as the motor trucks came roaring toward thescene. Then crash! again. Five blocks northward another dense cloud ofdust arose, and the new area of destruction, spreading as swiftly asripples over a pond, joined the former one, leaving a huge, irregularopen space, piled up with masonry and brick in a number of flat-toppedpyramids. 

Into this, houses went crashing every moment, with a sound like theclatter of falling crockery, but infinitely magnified. 

"The devils! The swine!" shouted Dick. "And we gave Von Kettler theprivileges of an ambassador!"

And Fredegonde was the sister of this devil! The remembrance of thatstruck a cold chill to Dick's heart again. He tried to blot out herpicture from his mind, but he still saw her as she had appeared thatday after the air ride, flushed, smiling, radiant in her dark beauty. 

A murderess and a spy! He cursed her as he banked and circled back. Hewas helpless. He could do nothing. And all Washington would bedestroyed by morning, if the supply of bombs kept up. But there wasmore to come. Suddenly Dick became aware that two of his flight, atwidely separated distances, were going down in flames. Flaming comets, they dropped plump into the destruction below. Another caught fire andwas going down. No need to question what was happening. 

The invisible enemy was attacking his flight and picking off his menone by one!

He drove furiously toward two of his planes whose erratic movementsshowed that they were being attacked. As he neared them he saw onecatch fire and begin its earthward swoop. Then the fuselage crackledbeside him, and his instrument board dissolved into ruin. Instinctively he went round in a tight bank and loosed hismachine-gun. Nothing there! Nothing at all! Yet his right wing wentragged, and his own furious blasts into the sky, their echoes drownedby the roar of his propeller, were productive of nothing. 

 * * * * *

He shot past the uninjured plane, signalling it to descend. He wasn'tgoing to let his men ride aloft to helpless butchery. Nothing could bedone until some means was discovered of counteracting the enemy'sterrific advantage. 

He darted across the heart of the city to where another of the flightwas circling, waggling his wings to indicate to it to descend. Then onto the next plane and the next, shepherding them. Thank God theyunderstood! They were bunching toward the hangar. Yet another tookfire and dropped, a burning wreck. Half his flight out of commission, and not an enemy visible!

He was aloft alone now, courting death--instant, invisible death. Hewouldn't descend until that carnival of murder was at an end. But itwas not at an end. Another crash, far up Pennsylvania Avenue, showedan attempt upon the Capitol. Again--again, and a smoking hell wreathedthe noble buildings so that it was no longer possible to see them. Alull, and then a crash nearer the city's heart. Crash! Crash!

Invisible though the enemy was, it was easy to trace the movements ofthis particular plane by the successive areas of destruction that itleft behind it. It was coming back over Pennsylvania Avenue, droppingits bombs at intervals. It was methodically wiping out an entiresection of Washington. 

Dick drove his plane toward it. There was one chance in a thousandthat, if he could accurately gauge the progress of his invisibleantagonist, he could crash him and go down with him to death. If hecould get close enough to feel his prop-wash! A wild chance, butDick's mind was keyed up to desperation. He shot like an arrow towardthe scene, with a view to intercepting the murderer. 

Then of a sudden he became aware of a curious phenomenon. A black beamwas shooting across the sky. A black searchlight! It came from theflat top of a large hotel that had somehow escaped the universaldestruction, and, with its gaunt skeleton of structural steel showingin squares, towered out of the ruin all about it like an island. 

 * * * * *

It was from here that the black beam started. It spread fanwise acrossthe sky. But it was not merely blackness. It was utter andimpenetrable darkness, cleaving the sky like a knife. Where itpassed, the rays of the moon were extinguished as fire is extinguishedby water. 

A beam of absolute blackness, that pierced the air like a wideningcone, and made the night seem, by contrast, of dazzling brightnessalong either dark border. 

High into the air that dark beam shot, moving to and fro in the sky. Dick, darting toward the spot where he hoped to find his invisibleenemy, found himself caught in it. 

In utter, inextinguishable darkness! Like a trapped bird he fluttered, hurling himself this way and that till suddenly he found himselfblinking in the dazzling light of the moon again, and the black beamwas overhead. 

Crash! Another widening sphere of ruin as the invisible marauderdropped a bomb. Dick cursed bitterly. Trapped in that black beam, hehad lost his direction. The invisible plane had shot past the pointwhere he had hoped to intercept it. 

He flung his soaring lever, and hung suspended in the air. An easymark for the enemy, if he chose to take the opportunity. No matter. Death was all that Dick craved. He had seen half his flight wiped out, and a hundred thousand human beings hurled to destruction. He wantedto die. 

Then suddenly a wild shout came to his ears, as if all Washington hadgone mad with triumph. And Dick heard himself shouting too, before heknew it, almost before he knew why. 

 * * * * *

For overhead, where the inky finger searched the sky, a luminous shapeappeared, a silvery cigar, riding in the void. The finger missed it, and again there was only the moonlight. It caught it again--and againthe whole devastated city rang with yells of derision, hate, and angeras the black beam held it. 

It held it! To and fro that silvery cigar scurried in a franticattempt to avoid detection, and remorselessly the black beam held itdown. 

It held it down, and it outlined it as clearly as a figure on themoving picture screen. Then suddenly there came a flash, followed by adull detonation, and a black cloud appeared, spreading into a flowerof death near the cigar, and at the edge of the black beam. The cheersgrew frantic. The anti-aircraft battery in the White House grounds hadgrasped the situation, and was opening fire. 

To and fro, like a trapped beast, the cigar-shaped airplane fled. Onceit seemed to escape. It faded from the edge of the black finger--fadedinto nothingness amid a roar of execretion. Then it was caught andheld. 

Truncated, bounded by an arc of sky, the black finger followed themurderer in his flight remorselessly. And all around him theanti-aircraft guns were placing a barrage of death. 

He was trapped. No need for Dick to rush in to battle. To do so mightcall off that deadly barrage that held the murderer in a ring ofdeath. Hovering, Dick watched. And then, perhaps panic-stricken, perhaps rendered desperate, perhaps through sheer, wanton courage thatmight have commanded admiration under nobler circumstances, theairship turned and drove straight in the direction of the battery, dropping another bomb as she did so. 

 * * * * *

It fell in a crowded street, swarming with spectators who hadclambered upon the fallen débris, and it wrought hideous destruction. But this time there was hardly a cry--no unison of despair such as hadcome to Dick's ears before. The suspense was too tense. All eyeswatched the airship as, seeming to bear a charmed life, she drove forthe White House itself, through a ring of shells that widened andcontracted alternately, with the object of placing a last bombsquarely upon the building before going down in death. And all thewhile the black searchlight held it. 

Dick Rennell was to experience many thrilling moments afterward, butthere was never a period, measurable by seconds, yet seeming to extendthrough all eternity--never a period quite so fraught with suspenseas, hovering there, he watched the flight of that silvery planespeeding straight toward the executive mansion while all around it theshells bloomed and spread. It was over the White House grounds. Thearchies had failed; they were being outmaneuvered, they could not beswung in time to follow the trajectory of the plane. Dick held hisbreath. 

Then suddenly the silvery ship dissolved in a blaze of fire, a showerof golden sparks such as fly from a rocket, and simultaneously thelast bomb that she was to drop broke upon the ground below. 

Down she plunged, instantly invisible as she escaped the finger of theblack beam; but she dropped into the vortex of ruin that she herselfhad created. Into a pit of blazing fire, criss-crossed by fallingtrees, that had engulfed the battery and a score of men. 

Then suddenly Dick understood. He flung home the soaring lever, banked, and headed, not for the White House, but for the flat roof ofthe hotel from which the black searchlight was still projecting itselfthrough the skies. He hovered above, and dropped, light as a feather, upon the rooftop. 

 * * * * *

There was only one person there--an old man dressed in a shabby suit, kneeling before a great block of stone that had been dislodged upwardfrom the parapet and formed a sort of table. Upon this table the oldman had placed a large, square box, resembling an exaggerated kodak, and it was from the lens of this box that the black beam wasprojecting. 

Dick sprang from his cockpit as the old man rose in alarm. He ran tohim and caught him by the arm. 

"Luke Evans!" he cried. "Thank God you've come back in time to saveAmerica!"

CHAPTER VI

_The Gas_

In the Blue Room of the White House the Council listened to old LukeEvans's exposition of his invention with feelings ranging fromincredulity to hope. 

"I've been at work all the time, " said the old man, "not far fromhere. I knew the day would come when you'd need me. I put my prideaside for the sake of my country. "

"Tell us in a few words about this discovery of yours, Mr. Evans, "said Colonel Stopford. 

Luke Evans placed the square black case upon the table. "It's simple, like all big things, sir, " he answered. "The original shadow-breakingdevice that I invented was a heavy, inert gas, invisible, but almostas viscous as paint. Applied to textiles, to inorganic matter, toanimal bodies, it adheres for hours. Its property is to render suchsubstances invisible by absorbing all the visible light rays that fallupon it, from red to violet. Light passes through all substances thatare coated with this paint as if they did not exist. "

"And this antidote of yours?" asked Colonel Stopford. 

"Darkness, " replied Luke Evans. "A beam of darkness that meansabsolute invisibility. It can be shot from this apparatus"--heindicated the box upon the table. "This box contains a minute portionof a gas which exists in nature in the form of a black, crystallinepowder. The peculiar property of this powder is that it is thesolidified form of a gas more volatile than any that is known. Sovolatile is it that, when the ordinary atmospheric pressure of fifteenpounds to the square inch is removed, the powder instantly changes tothe gaseous condition. "

"By pressing this lever"--Evans pointed at the box--"a vacuum iscreated. Instantly the powder becomes a gas, which shoots forththrough this aperture with the speed of a projectile, taking the formof a beam of absolute blackness. Or it can be discharged fromcylinders in such a way as to extend over a large area within a fewminutes. "

"But how does this darkness make the invisible airships luminous?"asked Stopford. "Why does not your darkness destroy all light?"

"In this way, sir, " replied the old inventor. "The shadow-breaking gaswith which the airships are painted confers invisibility because itabsorbs sunlight. But it does not absorb the still more rapid waves, or oscillations which manifest themselves as radio-activity. On thecontrary, it gathers and reflects these. 

"Now Roentgen, the discoverer of the X-ray, observed that if X-raysare allowed to enter the eye of an observer who is in completedarkness, the retina receives a stimulus, and light is perceived, dueto the fluorescent action of the X-rays upon the eyeball. 

"Consequently, by creating a beam of complete darkness, I bring intoclear visibility the fluorescent gas that coats the airships; in otherwords, the airships become visible. "

"If a light ray is nullified upon entering the field of darkness, willit emerge at the other edge as a perfect light ray again?" askedStopford. 

"It will emerge unchanged, since the black beam destroys light byslightly slowing down the vibrations to a point where they are notperceived as light by the human eye. On emerging from the beam, however, these vibrations immediately resume their natural frequency. To give you a homely parallel, the telephone changes sound waves toelectric waves, and re-converts them into sound waves at the otherend, without any appreciable interruption. "

"Then, " said Stopford, "the logical application of your method is toplunge every city in the land into darkness by means of this gas?"

"That is so, sir, and then we shall have the advantage ofinvisibility, and the enemy ships will be in fluorescence. "

"Damned impracticable!" muttered Stopford. 

"You seriously propose to darken the greater part of eastern NorthAmerica?" asked the Secretary for War. 

"The gas can be produced in large quantities from coal tar besidesexisting in crystalline deposits, " replied Luke Evans. "It is sovolatile that I estimate that a single ton will darken all easternNorth America for five days. Whereas the concentration would be madeonly in specific areas liable to attack. The gas is distilled withgreat facility from one of the tri-phenyl-carbinol coal-tarderivatives. "

Vice-president Tomlinson was a pompous, irascible old man, but it washe who hit the nail on the head. 

"That's all very well as an emergency measure, but we've got to findthe haunt of that gang and smash it!"

An orderly brought in a telegraphic dispatch and handed it to him. TheVice-president opened it, glanced through it, and tried to hand it tothe Secretary of State. Instead, it fluttered from his nervelessfingers, and he sank back with a groan. The Secretary picked it up andglanced at it. 

"Gentlemen, " he said, trying to control his voice, "New York wasbombed out of the blue at sunrise this morning, and the whole lowerpart of the city is a heap of ruins. "

 * * * * *

In the days that followed it became clear that all the resources ofAmerica would be needed to cope with the Invisible Empire. Not a daypassed without some blow being struck. Boston, Charleston, Baltimore, Pittsburg in turn were devastated. Three cruisers and a score of minorcraft were sunk in the harbor of Newport News, where they wereconcentrating, and thenceforward the fleet became a fugitive force, seeking concealment rather than an offensive. Trans-Atlanticsea-traffic ceased. 

Meanwhile the black gas was being hurriedly manufactured. Fromcylinders placed in central positions in a score of cities it wasdischarged continuously, covering these centers with an impenetrablepall of night that no light would penetrate. Only by the glow ofradium paint, which commanded fabulous prices, could official businessbe transacted, and that only to a very small degree. 

Courts were closed, business suspended, prisoners released, perforce, from jails. Famine ruled. The remedy was proving worse than thedisease. Within a week the use of the dark gas had had to bediscontinued. And a temporary suspension of the raids served only toaccentuate the general terror. 

There were food riots everywhere, demands that the Government come toterms, and counter-demands that the war be fought out to the bitterend. 

Fought out, when everything was disorganized? Stocks of food congestedall the terminals, mobs rioted and battled and plundered all throughthe east. 

"It means surrender, " was voiced at the Council meeting by one of themembers. And nobody answered him. 

Three days of respite, then, instead of bombs, proclamationsfluttering down from a cloudless sky. Unless the white flag ofsurrender was hoisted from the summit of the battered Capitol, theInvisible Emperor would strike such a blow as should bring America toher knees!

 * * * * *

It was a twelve-hour ultimatum, and before three hours had passedthousands of citizens had taken possession of the Capitol and filledall the approaches. Over their heads floated banners--the Stars andStripes, and, blazoned across them the words, "No Surrender. "

It was a spontaneous uprising of the people of Washington. Hungry, homeless in the sharpening autumn weather, and nearly all bereft ofmembers of their families, too often of the breadwinner, now lyingdeep beneath the rubble that littered the streets, they had gatheredin their thousands to protest against any attempt to yield. 

Dick, flying overhead at the apex of his squadron, felt his heartswell with elation as he watched the orderly crowds. This was at threein the afternoon: at six the ultimatum ended, the new frightfulnesswas to begin. 

At five, Vice-president Tomlinson was to address the crowds. The oldman had risen to the occasion. He had cast off his pompousness andvanity, and was known to favor war to the bitter end. Dick and hissquadron circled above the broken dome as the car that carried theVice-president and the secretaries of State and for War approachedalong the Avenue. 

Rat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat!

Out of the blue sky streams of lead were poured into the assembledmultitudes. Instantly they had become converted into a panic-strickenmob, turning this way and that. 

Rat-a-tat-tat. Swaths of dead and dying men rolled in the dust, and, as wheat falls under the reaper's blade, the mob melted away in linesand by battalions. Within thirty seconds the whole terrain was piledwith dead and dying. 

"My God, it's massacre! It's murder!" shouted Dick. 

 * * * * *

They had not even waited for the twelve hours to expire. To and frothe invisible airplanes shot through the blue evening sky, till thelast fugitives were streaming away in all directions like hunted deer, and the dead lay piled in ghastly heaps everywhere. 

Out of these heaps wounded and dying men would stagger to their feetto shake their fists impotently at their murderers. 

In vain Dick and his squadron strove to dash themselves into theinvisible airships. The pilots eluded them with ease, sometimessending a contemptuous round of machine-gun bullets in theirdirection, but not troubling to shoot them down. 

Two small boys, carrying a huge banner with "No Surrender" across it, were walking off the ghastly field. Twelve or fourteen years old atmost, they disdained to run. They were singing, singing the NationalAnthem, though their voices were inaudible through the turmoil. 

Rat-tat! Rat-tat-a-tat! The fiends above loosed a storm of lead uponthem. Both fell. One rose, still clutching the banner in his hand andwaved it aloft. In a sudden silence his childish treble could beheard:

 My country, 'tis of thee Sweet land of lib-er-ty--

The guns rattled again. Clutching the blood-stained banner, he droppedacross the body of his companion. 

Suddenly a broad band of black soared upward from the earth. Those incharge of the cylinders placed about the Capitol had released the gas. 

A band of darkness, rising into the blue, cutting off the earth, making the summit of the ruined Capitol a floating dome. But, fast asit rose, the invisible airships rose faster above it. 

A last vicious volley! Two of Dick's flight crashing down upon thepiles of dead men underneath! And nothing was visible, though thedarkness rose till it obliterated the blue above. 

 * * * * *

At dawn the Council sat, after an all-night meeting. Vice-presidentTomlinson, one arm shattered by a machine-gun bullet, still occupiedthe chair at the head of the table. 

Outside, immediately about the White House, there was not a sound. Washington might have been a city of the dead. The railroad terminals, however, were occupied by a mob of people, busily looting. There wasgreat disorder. Organized government had simply disappeared. 

Each man was occupied only with obtaining as much food as he couldcarry, and taking his family into rural districts where the Terrorwould not be likely to pursue. All the roads leading out ofWashington--into Virginia, into Maryland, were congested with columnsof fugitives that stretched for miles. 

Some, who were fortunate enough to possess automobiles, and--what wasrarer--a few gallons of gas, were trying to force their way throughthe masses ahead of them; here and there a family trudged beside apack-horse, or a big dog drew an improvised sled on wheels, loadedwith flour, bacon, blankets, pillows. Old men and young childrentrudged on uncomplaining. 

The telegraph wires were still, for the most part, working. All theworld knew what was happening. From all the big cities of the East asimilar exodus was proceeding. There was little bitterness and littledisorder. 

It was not the airship raids from which these crowds were fleeing. Something grimmer was happening. The murderous attack upon thepopulace about the Capitol had been merely an incident. This laterdevelopment was the fulfilment of the Invisible Emperor's ultimatum. 

Death was afield, death, invisible, instantaneous, and inevitable. Death blown on the winds, in the form of the deadliest of unknowngases. 

 * * * * *

In the Blue Room of the White House a score of experts had gathered. Dick, too, with the chiefs of his staff, Stopford, and the army andnaval heads. Among them was the chief of the Meteorological Bureau, and it was to him primarily that Tomlinson was reading a telegraphicdispatch from Wilmington, South Carolina:

"The Invisible Death has reached this point and is working havocthroughout the city, spreading from street to street. Men are droppingdead everywhere. A few have fled, but--"

The sudden ending of the dispatch was significant enough. Tomlinsonpicked up another dispatch from Columbia, in the same State:

"Invisible Death now circling city, " he read. "Business sectionalready invaded. All other telegraphists have left posts. Can't sayhow long--"

And this, too, ended in the same way. There were piles of suchcommunications, and they had been coming in for eighteen hours. Atthat moment an orderly brought in a dozen more. 

Tomlinson showed the head of the Meteorological Bureau the chart uponthe table. "We've plotted out a map as the wires came in, Mr. Graves, "he said. "The Invisible Death struck the southeast shore of the UnitedStates yesterday afternoon near Charleston. It has spreadapproximately at a steady rate. The wind velocity--?"

"Remains constant. Seventy miles an hour. Dying down a little, "answered Graves. 

"The death line now runs from Wilmington, South Carolina, straight toAugusta, Georgia, " the Vice-president pursued. "Every living thingthat this gas has encountered has been instantly destroyed. Men, cattle, birds, vermin, wild beasts. The gas is invisible andinodorous. These gentlemen believe it may be a form of hydrocyanicacid, but of a concentration beyond anything known to chemistry, sodeadly that a billionth part of it to one of air must be fatal, otherwise it could not have traveled as it has done. Warnings havebeen broadcasted, but there are no stocks of chemicals that mightcounteract it. Flight is the only hope--flight at seventy miles anhour!"

 * * * * *

His voice shook. "This gas has been loosed, as you told us, upon thewings of the hurricane that came through the Florida Strait. What arethe chances of its reaching Washington?"

"Mr. Vice-president, if the wind continues, and this gas hassufficient concentration, it should be in Washington within the nexteight hours. " Graves replied. "If the wind changes direction, however, this gas will probably be blown out to sea, or into theAlleghanies, where it will probably be dissipated among the hills, orby the foliage on the mountains. I'm not a chemist--"

"No, sir, and I am not consulting you as one, " answered old Tomlinson. "A death belt several hundred miles in length and three or fourhundred deep has already been cut across this continent. We are facedwith wholesale, unmitigated murder, on such a scale as was never knownbefore. But we are an integral part of America, and Washington has nomore right to expect immunity than our devastated Southern States. Thequestion we wish to put to you is, can you trace the exact coursetaken by the hurricane?"

"I can, Mr. Vice-president, " answered Graves. "It originated somewherein the West Indian seas, like all these storms. We've been getting ourreports almost as usual. Our first one came from Nassau, which wasbadly damaged. The storm missed the Florida coast, as many of them do, and struck the coast of South Carolina--in fact, we received a reportfrom Charleston, which must have almost coincided with your firstreport of the gas. "

"If the storm missed the Florida coast, it follows that the gas wasnot discharged from any point on the American continent, " saidTomlinson. "From some point off Florida--from some island, or from aplane or from a ship at sea. "

"Not from a ship at sea, Mr. Vice-president, " interposed the head ofthe Chemical Bureau. "To discharge gas on such an extensive scalewould require more space than could be furnished by the largestvessel, in my opinion. "

"In all probability the gas was 'loaded, ' so to say, onto the galesomewhere in the Bahamas, " said Graves. "That seems to me the mostlikely explanation. "

 * * * * *

Vice-president Tomlinson nodded, and picked up one of the latesttelegraphic dispatches, as if absently. 

"Gentlemen, " he said, "the Invisible Death has already reachedCharlotte. "

He picked up another. "Reported Abaco Island, Bahamas, totally wreckedby storm. All communication has ceased, " he read. He turned to Dickand spoke as if inspired. "Captain Rennell, there is yourdestination, " he thundered. "They've betrayed themselves. We've gotthem now. You understand?"

"By God, sir! It's from Abaco Island, then, that those devils havebeen carrying on their game of wholesale murder!"

Suddenly a contagion of enthusiasm seemed to sweep the wholeassemblage. Every man was upon his feet in an instant, white, quivering, lips opened for speech that trembled there and did notcome. 

It was Secretary Norris spoke. "The Vice-president has hit the mark, "he said, with a dramatic gesture of his arm. "Yes, they've betrayedthemselves. Their headquarters are on Abaco Island. It's one of thelargest in the Bahamas. " He turned to the Secretary for the Navy. "Youcan rush the fleet there, sir?" he asked. 

"Within forty-eight hours I'll have every vessel that can float offAbaco Island. "

"I'll concentrate all airplanes. Take your flight, Captain Rennell. We'll stamp out that nest of murderers if we blow Abaco Island to thebottom of the sea. It can be done!"

"It can be done, sir--with Luke Evans and his invention, " answeredDick. 

CHAPTER VII

_On the Trail_

Three hours later, about the time when the war council rose aftercompleting its plans, a sudden shift of the wind blew the poison gasout to sea, just when it appeared certain that it would reach thecapital of the nation. 

The southern half of Virginia had been swept over. Operators, telegraph and telephone, staying at their posts had sent in constantmessages that had terminated with an abruptness which told of thetragic sequel. Yet, at that distance from its source, the intensity ofthe gas had been to some extent dissipated. 

Poisonous beyond any gas known, so deadly as to make hydrocyanic gasinnocuous in comparison, still as it was swept northward on the wingsof the wind, there had been an increasing number of non-fatalcasualties. The most northernly point reached by the gas was Richmond, and here some fifty per cent of those stricken had suffered paralysisinstead of death. 

But a new element had been injected into the situation. Even theheroic courage shown by the populace in the beginning had had itslimits. The morning after the news of the Invisible Death's advent wasmade public mobs had gathered in all the large cities of the East, demanding surrender. 

The submerged elements of crime and disorder had come to the surfaceat last. Committees were formed, with the avowed object of yielding tothe Invisible Emperor, and averting further disaster. In Washington, acity of the dead, half the members of Congress and the Senators hadgathered in the ruined Capitol, to debate the situation. 

There were rumors of an impending march on the White House, of a coupd'ètat. 

 * * * * *

The action of the Government was prompt. Five hundred loyalists wereenrolled, armed, and posted round the White House: every avenue ofapproach was commanded by machine-guns. Meanwhile the news was spreadby radio that the headquarters of the Invisible Emperor had beenlocated, and that a strong bombing squadron was being dispatched todestroy it. 

The entire fleet was to follow, and it was confidently anticipatedthat within a little while the Terror would be at an end. 

Those at the white House were less sanguine. There was none butrealized the diabolical strength of their antagonists. 

"Everything depends upon the outcome of the next forty-eight hours, and everything depends on you, Rennell, " said Secretary Norris toDick, as he stood beside his plane. Behind him his flight of a dozenairships was drawn up. 

"Find them, " added the Secretary; "cover Abaco Island with the blackgas, and the navy and the marines will wipe up the mess that you leavebehind you. God help you--and all of us, Rennell!"

He gripped Dick's hand and turned away. Dick was very sober-minded ashe climbed into his cockpit. He knew to the full how much dependedupon himself and Luke Evans. Already the shouts of the insurgents wereto be heard at the ends of the barriers, commanded by themachine-guns, and patrolled by the enlisted volunteers. 

Negro mobs were building counter-barricades of their own with rubblefrom the fallen edifices. Civil war might be postponed foreight-and-forty hours, but after that unless there was news ofvictory, the whole structure of civilization would be smashedirreparably. 

It was up to Dick and Luke Evans, and they had assumed such aresponsibility as rarely falls to the lot of man in war. 

 * * * * *

Dick was to lead the flight in a two-seater Barwell plane. This wasone of the latest types, and had been hurriedly adapted to the purposefor which it was to be used. Dick himself occupied the rear seat, withits dual controls, and the gun in its armored casing. In front sat oldLuke Evans, in charge of the black gas projector. 

His famous camera box, containing a minute quantity of gas in slowcombustion, and projecting the black searchlight, had been built intothe plane. In the rack beside him were a number of the black gasbombs, each of which, dropped to earth, would release enough gas tocover a considerable area with darkness. Both Luke and Dick worerespirators filled with charcoal and sodium thio-sulphate, and besideDick a cage containing three guinea-pigs rested. 

These little rodents were so sensitive to atmospheric changes that aquantity of hydrocyanic acid too minute to affect a man would produceinstantaneous death on them. 

From its hiding-place off the Virginia coast the American fleet wassteaming hotly southward toward Abaco Island, cruisers, destroyers, submarines. That Abaco was British territory had simply not beenconsidered in this crisis of history. 

The twelve airships that followed Dick's contained enough bombs to putthe headquarters of the Invisible Empire out of business for good. Thenaval guns would complete the same business. 

All day Dick and Luke Evans flew southwestward. At first glance, everything appeared normal. The catastrophe that had fallen upon theland was visible only in the shape of the lines of tiny figures, extending for miles, that choked all the roads radiating out of theprincipal cities. It was only when they were over the southern portionof Virginia that the ravages of deadly gas became apparent. 

Flying low, Dick could see the fields strewn with the bodies of deadcattle. Here and there, at the doors of farmhouses, the inmates couldbe seen, lying together in gruesome heaps, caught and killedinstantaneously as they attempted flight. Here, too, were figures onthe roads. But they were figures of dead men and women. 

 * * * * *

They strewed the roads for miles, lying as they had been trapped--men, women, children, horses, mules, and dogs. The spectacle was anappalling one. Dick set his jaws grimly. He was thinking that theCouncil had let Von Kettler escape. He was thinking of Fredegonde. Buthe would not let himself think of her. She deserved no more pity thanthe rest of the murderous crew. 

Over the Carolinas the conditions were still more appalling. Heredeadly gas had struck with all its concentrated power. A citymaterialized out of the blue distance, a factory town with allchimneys spiring upward into the blue, a section of tall buildingsintersected by canyonlike streets, around it a rim of trim houses, bungalows, indicative of prosperity and comfort. And it was a city ofthe dead. 

For everywhere around it, on all the roads, the dead lay piled on topof one another. For miles--all the inhabitants, rich and poor, business men, factory hands, negroes. There had been a mad rush as thefatal gas drove onward upon its lethal way, and all the fugitives hadbeen overwhelmed simultaneously. 

Here were golf links, with little groups strewn on the grass andfairways; here, at one of the holes, four men, their putters still intheir hands, crouched in death. Here was the wreckage of a train thathad collided with a string of freight cars at an untended switch, andfrom the shattered windows the heads and bodies of the dead protrudedin serried ranks. 

Dick looked back. His flight was driving on behind him. He guessedtheir feelings. They had sworn, as he had sworn, that none of themwould return without stamping out that abomination from the earthforever. 

 * * * * *

He signaled to the flight to rise, and zoomed upward to twelvethousand feet. He did not want to look upon any more of those horrors. At that height, the peaceful landscape lay extended underneath, in achecker-board of farms and woodlands. One could pretend that it wasall a vile dream. 

He avoided Charleston, and winged out above the Atlantic, striking astraight course along the coast toward the Bahamas. The shores ofGeorgia vanished in the west. Dick began to breathe more freely. Hismind shook off its weight of horror. Only the blue sea and the bluesky were visible The aftermath of the gale remained in the shape of astrong head breeze and white crests below. 

Dick glanced at the guinea-pigs. They were busily gnawing theircabbage and carrots. The gas had evidently been entirely dissipated bythe wind. 

Toward sunset the low jutting fore-land of Canaveral on the east coastof Florida, came into view. Dick shifted course a little. Three hoursmore should see them over Abaco. 

His flight had explicit instructions. As soon as the black gas hadrendered visible the headquarters of the Invisible Emperor, they wereto circle above, dropping their bombs. When these were exhausted, themachine guns would come into play. There was to be no attention paidto signals of surrender. They were to wipe out the headquarters, tokill every living thing that showed itself--and the navy and themarines would mop up anything left over. 

The sun went down in a blaze of gold and crimson. Night fell. The moonbegan to climb the east. The black sea, stretching beneath, was asempty as on the day when it was created. Nothing in the shape ofnavigation appeared. 

Two hours, three hours, and old Evans turned round in his cockpit andpointed. On the horizon a black thread was beginning to stretchagainst the sky. It was Abaco Island, in the Bahama group. They werenearly at their destination. An hour more--perhaps two hours, and thedeadly menace that threatened America might be removed forever. Dickbreathed a silent prayer for success. 

 * * * * *

They were over Abaco. A long, flat island, seventy miles or so inextreme length, and fairly wide, covered with a dense growth oftropical brush and forest, with here and there open spaces, near theseacoast an occasional farm-house. Dick dropped to five thousand, tothree, to one. The moon made the whole land underneath as bright asday. 

There were no evidence of destruction by the hurricane. The farmhousesstood substantial and well roofed. If death had struck Abaco Island, it had been the work of man, not Nature. 

Dick zoomed almost to his ceiling, until, in the brilliant moonlight, he could see Abaco Island from side to side. For the most part it washeavily wooded with mahogany and lignum vitae: toward the centralportion there was open land, but there was not the least sign of anyconstruction work. 

Again he swooped, indicating to his flight to follow him. At athousand feet he examined the open district intently. Here, ifanywhere upon the island, the Invisible Emperor had his headquarters. Was it conceivable that a gas factory, hangars, ammunition depotscould exist here invisibly, when he could look straight down upon theground?

Dick's heart sank. The hideous fear came to him that Graves had beenmistaken, that he had come on a wild-goose chase. This could not bethe place. It was quite incredible. 

Again and again he circled, studying the ground beneath. Now he couldsee that the tough grass and undergrowth marked curious geometricalpatterns. Here, for example, was an oblong of bare earth around whichthe vegetation grew, and it was obviously the work of man. 

Here were four squares of bare ground set side by side, with thinstrips of vegetation growing between them. 

Then of a sudden Dick knew! Those squares and parallelograms of bareground indicated the foundations of buildings. _He was looking down onthe very site of the Invisible Emperor's stronghold!_

He shouted, and pointed downward. Luke Evans looked round and nodded. He understood. He patted the camera-box with a grim smile on his oldface. 

CHAPTER VIII

_The Magnetic Trap_

Upon those squares and oblongs of bare earth, incredible as it seemed, rose the structures of the Invisible Empire, themselves both invisibleand transparent, so that one looked straight down through them and sawonly the ground beneath them. 

Every interior floor and girder must have been treated with the gas. They had been cunning. They must have discovered some permanent meansof charging paint with the shadow-breaking gas, so that the buildingswould remain invisible for months and years instead of hours. 

But they had not been cunning enough. It had not occurred to them thatthe foundations would still be visible underneath, for the simplereason that grass does not grow without sunlight. 

Dick saw old Luke Evans nodding and pointing downward. The old manpicked up his end of the speaking-tube, but Dick ignored the gesture. He signaled to his flight to rise, and zoomed up, circling, andstudying the land beneath. 

That oblong was evidently the central building. Those four squaresprobably housed airplanes, and each would hold half a dozen. Thatelliptical building might contain a dirigible. That round patch wasprobably the gas factory. 

Now Dick could see more patches of bare ground, extending in thedirection of the sea. He gunned his ship and followed the gap amongthe trees to the ocean, a few miles distant. Yes, there were moreevidence of activity here. Beside the water, in what looked like adeep natural harbor, was what seemed to be the foundations of a dock. Perhaps even vessels of war floated on the phosphorescent Bahama sea. 

 * * * * *

He circled back, his flock wheeling like a flight of birds andfollowing him. He signaled to them to scatter. They had certainly beenobserved; at any moment a hail of lead might assail them invisibly outof the air. They must get to work quickly. But had they understood thesignificance of those bare patches?

Dick saw Luke Evans still fidgeting impatiently with his end of thespeaking-tube, and picked it up. 

"I'm thinking, Captain Rennell, we've got no time to lose if we wantto keep the upper hand of those devils, " called the old man. 

"Yes, you're right, " Dick answered. "Lay a trail of gas bombs allaround those hangars and buildings, enough to hold them dark for sometime. And keep a bomb or two in reserve. "

Luke Evans shouted back. The plane was again above the structures. Theold man dropped a bomb over the side, and Dick zoomed again, hisflight wheeling up behind him. 

Higher and higher, banking and going round in a succession of tightspirals, Dick flew. Every moment he expected the blow to fall. As herose, Luke Evans dropped bomb after bomb. A thousand feet beneath theflight was taking up positions, hovering with the helicopters, lookingup to Dick for the signal, and waiting. 

Then from beneath the cloud of black gas began to rise, as Luke Evansdropped his bombs. It filled the lower spaces of the sky, blotting outthe land in impenetrable darkness. That darkness, above which Dick andhis flight were soaring, rose like a solid wall, built by someprehistoric race that aimed to fling a tower into the heavens. 

 * * * * *

And then--the miracle! Dick gasped in sheer delight as he realizedthat he had made no mistake. 

At first all he could see was a number of criss-crossingphosphorescent lines that appeared shimmering through the blacknessunderneath. They ran luminously here and there, forming no particularpattern, much like the figures on the radium dial of a watch whenfirst they come into wavering visibility at night. 

Then the lines began to intersect one another, to assume geometricpatterns and curves. And bit by bit they took meaning andsignificance. 

And suddenly the whole invisible stronghold lay revealed upon theground beneath, a shining, dazzling play of weaving light. 

Buildings and hangars stood out, clearly revealed; the rounded vaultof a dirigible hangar, and the shining ribbon of a road that ranthrough a pitch-dark tarmac, and was evidently constructed from somegas-impregnated materials. On this tarmac was a flight of shiningairplanes, ready to take off. There were the odd, ovoid figures of theaviators in their silken overalls. More figures appeared, running outfrom the buildings. It was clear that the sudden raid had taken themall by surprise. 

Luke Evans yelled and pointed. "We've got them now, sir!" Dick heardabove the whine of the helicopter engine. "We've--"

But of a sudden the old man's voice died away, though his mouth wasstill moving. 

Dick leaned out of his cockpit and fired a single red Very light, thesignal for the attack. And from each plane of his flight, beneath him, a bomb slid from its rack and went hurtling down upon the gang below, while the airplanes circled and hovered, each taking up its station. 

 * * * * *

Dick was too late. By a whole minute he had missed his chance. Herealized that immediately, for before the red light had flared fromhis pistol, the hostile planes were in the air. He had flown too low, and given the alarm. 

It meant a fight now, instead of a mad dog destruction, and Dick didnot underestimate the power of the enemy. But he felt a thrill offurious satisfaction at the prospect of battle. From every plane thebombs were falling. Underneath, ruin and destruction, and leapingflames--and yet darkness, save for the phosphorescent outlines of thebuildings. 

And the lines of these were broken, converging into strangecriss-crosses of luminosity, as the beams fell in shapeless heaps. Dark fire, sweeping through the headquarters of the Invisible Emperor, a veritable hell for those below! A taste of the hell that they hadmade for others!

Then a strange phenomenon obtruded itself upon Dick's notice. _Nothingwas audible!_ The bombs were falling, but they were falling silently. No sound came up from beneath. And, except for the throbbing of hisengine, Dick would have thought it had stopped. He could no longerhear it. 

That terrific holocaust of death and destruction was inaudible. Skimming the upper reach of the air, high above that wall of darkness, Dick saw old Luke Evans pick up his end of the speaking-tube, andmechanically followed suit. He could see the old man's lips moving. But he heard nothing!

And now another phenomenon was borne in on his notice. His flight wereperhaps five hundred feet beneath him, hovering a little above thebarrage of black gas. But they were converging oddly. And there was nosight of the airplanes that Dick had just seen taking off from theinvisible tarmac. 

 * * * * *

Dick fired two Very lights as a signal to his flight to scatter. Whatwere they doing, bunching together like a flock of sheep, when at anymoment the enemy planes might come swooping in, riddling them withbullets? He thrust the stick forward--and then realized that hiscontrols had gone dead!

He thought for a moment that a wire had snapped. But the stickresponded perfectly to his hand, only it had no longer control overhis plane. He kicked right rudder, and the plane remained motionless. He pushed home the soaring lever, to neutralize the helicopter and theplane still soared. 

Then he noticed that the needle of his earth-inductorcompass-indicator was oscillating madly, and realized that it was nothis plane that was at fault. 

Underneath him, his flight seemed to be milling wildly as the shipsturned in every direction of the compass. But not for long. They werenosing in, until the whole flight resembled an enormous airplaneengine, with twelve radial points, corresponding to their propellers, and the noses pointing symmetrically inward, like a herd of game, yarding in winter time. 

And now the true significance came home to Dick. A vertical line ofmagnetic force, an invisible mast, had been shot upward from theground. The airplanes were moored to it by their noses, as effectivelyas if they had been fastened with steel wires. 

And he, too, was struggling against that magnetic force that wasslowly drawing him, despite his utmost efforts, to a fixed positionfive hundred feet above his flight. 

 * * * * *

For a few moments, by feeding his engine gas to the limit, Dickthought he might have a chance of escaping. Her nose a fixed point, Dick whirled round and round in a dizzy maze, attempting to break thatinvisible mooring-chain. Then suddenly the engine went dead. He wastrapped helplessly. 

He saw old Evans gesticulating wildly in the front cockpit. The oldman hoisted himself, leaned over the cowling gibbered in Dick's ear. The silent engine had ceased to throb, and the old man's shouts weresimply not translated into sound. 

Suddenly the flight beneath jerked downward, just as a flag jerks whenit is hauled down a pole. They vanished into the dark cloud beneath. At the same time there came a jerk that dropped Dick's plane a hundredfeet, and flung him violently against the rim of the cockpit. 

Another followed. By drops of a hundred feet at a time, Dick was beinghauled down into the darkness underneath him. 

It rushed up at him. One moment he was suspended upon the rim of it, seeing the moon and stars above him; the next he had been plunged intoutter blackness. Blackness more intense than anything that could beconceived--soundless blackness, that was the added horror of it. Blackness of Luke Evans's contriving, but none the less fearful onthat account!

And yet, as Dick was jerked slowly downward, slowly a pale visibilitybegan to diffuse itself underneath. The black cloud was beginning toroll away. The luminous lines began to fade, and in place of themappeared little leaping tongues of fire. In front of him Dick saw LukeEvans's form begin to pattern itself upon the darkness. He saw theform move sidewise, and caught at Luke's arm as he was about to hurlanother gas bomb. "No!" he shouted--and heard no sound come from hislips. 

 * * * * *

Luke understood. He seemed to be replacing the bomb in the rack. Beneath them now, as they were jerked downward, were fantastic swirlsof black mist, and, at the bottom, a pit of fire that was slowlycoming into visibility. 

Dick uttered a cry of horror! Five hundred feet below his plane he sawthe dim forms of his flight, still bunched together, noses almosttouching. And they were dropping straight into that flaming furnaceof ruin underneath, which was growing clearer every instant. 

Down, jerk by jerk. Down! The black cloud was fast dispersing from theground. The flight were hardly a thousand feet above the fire. Down--along jerk that one! Once more! The flames leaped up hungrily about thedoomed airships. Cries of mad horror broke from Dick's lips as hewitnessed the destruction of ships and men. 

He could see almost clearly now. The twelve ships, still retainingtheir nose-to-nose formation, were in the very heart of the fire. Spurts of exploding gasoline thrust their white tongues upward. Therewas only one consolation: for the doomed men, death must have comepractically instantaneously. 

From where he hung, Dick could feel the fierce heat of the flamesbelow. In front of him, old Luke Evans sat in his cockpit like onepetrified. He was feebly fumbling at his camera-box, as if he had someidea of using it, and had forgotten that it was fixed to the plane, but the old man seemed temporarily to have lost his wits. 

Rushing flames surrounded the burning airships, reducing them to asolid, welded mass of incandescent metal. Dick looked down, waitingfor the next jerk that would summon him to join his men. At the momenthe was not conscious of either fear or horror, only intense rageagainst the murderers and regret that he could never bring back thenews of victory. 

 * * * * *

The cloud had almost dissipated. In place of the phosphorescence, electric lights had appeared, making the ground beneath perfectlyvisible. Dick could see a number of men grouped together at theentrance to a large building, part of which had been wrecked by abomb, though there were no evidences of fire. Other structures hadbeen dismantled and knocked about, but what remained of them had notbeen charred by fire. Evidently they had been fireproofed. Perhaps thegas itself was incombustible. Only in the middle of the tarmac, wherethe remnants of the airplanes blazed, was there any sign of fire. 

There were three machines resembling dynamos, placed one at eachcorner of the tarmac, equidistant from the central holocaust. Ahalf-dozen men were grouped about each of them, and by the light fromthe huge reflector over each Dick saw that they were whirring busily. At the time it did not occur to him that these were the machines thatwere sending out the electrical force that had held the airplanespowerless. 

But as he looked, his mind still a turmoil of hate and hopeless anger, he saw one of the three machines cease whirring. The group about itdispersed, the light above went out. And now his plane, as if drawn bythe power of the two remaining machines, began to move jerkily again, not down toward the burning wreckage, but sidewise, away from it. 

Straight out toward the side of the tarmac it moved jerked downwarddiagonally, until it rested only a few feet above the ground. 

Then suddenly Dick felt the plane quiver, as if released from thepower of the force that had held it. It nosed down and crashed, rolledover amid the wreckage of a shattered wing. The concussion shot Dickfrom the cockpit clear of the smashed machine. 

He landed upon his head, and went out instantly. 

CHAPTER IX

_The Invisible Emperor_

It was the sound of his name, spoken repeatedly, that brought Dickback to consciousness. He opened his eyes, blinking in broad daylight. He stared about him, and the first thing he saw was Luke Evans, regarding him anxiously from a little distance away. He saw that itwas Luke who had spoken. 

He had heard the old man distinctly. The condition of inaudibility wasgone. 

Not that of invisibility. Dick stared about him in bewilderment. For amoment, before he quite realized what had happened to him, he thoughthe had lost his mind. Underneath him was a thick rug, beneath his heada pillow; he could feel both of them, and yet all he could see was theopen country, a clearing with shrubbery on either side, and, beyondthat, a luxurious growth of tropical trees. Under him, to all visualappearance, was the bare ground. 

He moved, and heard the clank of chains. He looked down at himself. His wrists were loosely linked to a chain that seemed to stretch tightinto vacancy and end in nothing. His ankles were bound likewise. 

And both chains appeared to be of solid silver, but thick enough togive them the strength of iron!

Then he perceived that old Evans was bound in the same way. 

"Rennell! Rennell!" repeated the old man in a sort of whimper. "ThankGod you've come out of it! I was afraid you were dead. "

"What's happened?" asked Dick. "Where are we? Didn't they get us?"

"They've got us, damn them!" snarled old Evans. "All the rest burnedto cinders, those fine fellows, Rennell! You were thrown unconscious, but none of my tough old bones were hurt. They pulled us out of thewreckage and brought us in here and tied us with these silver chains. "

"In here? But where are we?" demanded Dick, trying to pass his handacross his aching forehead, and realizing that the chain, though itseemed fastened to nothing, was perfectly taut. 

 * * * * *

"In one of their damned invisible houses, " whimpered the old man. "They're fireproof. Nearly all our bombs fell on the tarmac, and theydid hardly any damage at all. One of those devils was bragging aboutit to me. I couldn't see anything but his eyes. And they've taken awaymy gas-box, " wailed old Luke. 

Dick cursed comprehensively and was silent. The burning rage thatfilled him left him incapable of other utterance. Silver chains! Theymust be madmen--yes, that was the only explanation. Madmen who hadescaped from somewhere, obtained possession of scientific secrets, andbanded themselves together to overcome the world. If he could get thechance of a blow at them before he died!

He heard a door swing open--a door somewhere out on the prairie. Twomen sprang into sudden visibility and approached him. There wasnothing invisible about these men, though they had seemed to havematerialized out of nothing. They wore the same black, trimly fittinguniform that Dick had seen in the White House. They were flesh andblood human beings like themselves. 

"I congratulate you upon your recovery, Captain Rennell, " remarked oneof them with ironical politeness. "Also upon your shrewd coup. Needless to say, it had no chance of success, but we were misinformedas to the hour at which you might be expected. We thought it wouldtake the fools at Washington a little longer to puzzle out ourlocation--and then we did not put quite sufficient force into ourhurricane. Quite an artificial one, Captain. "

Dick, glaring at them, said nothing, and the one who had spoken turnedto his companion, laughing, and said something in a foreign languagethat he did not recognize. 

"His Majesty the Emperor commands your presence, and that of this oldfool, " said the first man. "Do not attempt to escape us. Death will beinstantaneous. " He drew a glass rod from his pocket, the tip of whichglowed with a pale blue light. 

 * * * * *

Again he spoke to his companion, who moved apparently a few feetdistant out on the prairie. Suddenly Dick saw old Evans' chainslacken: then Dick's slackened too. He understood that he was unbound, though his wrists and ankles were still loosely fastened. 

The second man took his station beside Luke Evans and motioned to himto rise. The first man beckoned to Dick to do the same. The twoprisoners got upon their feet, trailing each a length of clankingchain. Each of the two guards covered his captive with the glass rodand motioned to him to precede him. 

Choking with fury, Dick obeyed. He had taken a dozen steps with hisguard uttered a sharp command to halt, at the same time shouting someword of command. 

The edge of a door appeared, also seeming to materialize out of space. It widened, and Dick realized that he was looking at the unpaintedinner side of a door whose outside was invisible. Beyond the doorappeared a flight of steps. 

Dick passed through and descended them. He counted fifteen. He emergedinto a timbered underground passage, well lit with lamps, filled withwhat seemed to be mercury vapor. Behind him walked his guard: behindthe guard he heard Luke Evans shambling. Both chains were clinking, and again Dick's fury almost overcame him. 

He controlled himself. He had no hope or desire for life, but he meantto strike some sort of blow before he died, if it were possible. 

They turned out of the timbered passage, Dick's guard now walking athis side, the glass rod menacing his back. Dick found himself in alarge subterranean room of extraordinary character. The walls were notmerely timbered, but paneled. Pictures hung upon them, there were softrugs underfoot, there was antique furniture. Everything was in plainsight. 

 * * * * *

There was a door at the farther end, from beyond which came the murmurof voices. Two guards in the same black uniform, but without theornamental silver braid, stood to attention, long halberds in theirhands. One spoke a challenge. 

The guard at Dick's side answered. The two men stepped backward, eachabout two feet, and pulled the two cords on either side of a curtainbehind the open door. Dick passed through. 

He stopped in sheer amazement. The gorgeousness of this larger roominto which he entered was almost stupefying. It seemed to have beenlifted bodily from some European palace. Mirrors with gilt edges ranalong the side. On the floor was a single huge rug of Oriental weave. 

At the farther end was a throne of gilt, lined with red velvet inwhich sat a man. An old man, of perhaps eighty years, with a greypeaked beard and fierce, commanding features. On his head was a goldcrown glittering with gems. About him were gathered some twoscore menand a few women. 

Those ranged on either side of the throne wore, like its occupant, robes of red, lined with ermine. The rank behind wore shorter robes, less decorative, but no less extraordinary. They might all havestepped out of some medieval court. 

Behind this second line, and half-encircling them, were officers inthe black uniform with the silver braid. 

There had been chattering, but as Dick passed through into the room itwas succeeded by complete silence. Dick fixed his eyes upon the oldman on the throne. 

He knew him! Knew him for a once famous European ruler who had losthis throne in the war. A man always of unbalanced mentality, who, after living for years in exile, had been reported dead three yearsbefore. A madman who had vanished to make this last attempt upon theworld, aided and abetted by the secret group of nobles who hadsurrounded him in the days of his pomp and power. 

 * * * * *

Old men, all of those in the first line! Madmen too, perhaps, asmadness begets madness. Behind them, younger men, infected by thestrange malady, and enthusiastic for their desperate cause. 

Yes, Dick knew this Invisible Emperor, lurking here in his undergroundpalace. He knew Von Kettler, too, in the second line, close to theEmperor's throne. And, among the women in their robes, groupedpicturesquely about that throne, he knew Fredegonde Valmy. 

Dark-haired beneath her coronet, of radiant beauty, she fixed her eyesupon Dick's. Not a muscle of her face quivered. 

Then only did Dick see something else, which he had not hithertoobserved, owing to its concealment by the robes of those grouped aboutthe Emperor, and the sight of it sent such a thrill of fury throughhim that he stood where he was, unable to speak or move a muscle. 

The throne was set on a sort of dais, with three steps in front of it. The lowest of these steps was hollow. Within this hollow appeared thehead and shoulders of a man. 

An elderly man clothed in parti-colored red and yellow, thetime-honored garment of court fools. He was on his hands and knees, and the round of his back fitted into the hollow of the step, and hada flat board over it, so that the Emperor, in ascending his throne, would place his foot upon it. 

He was kept in that position with heavy chains of what looked likegold, which passed about his neck and arms, and fitted into heavy goldstaples in the wood. And the old man was President Hargreaves of theUnited States!

 * * * * *

The President of the American Republic, chained as a footstool for theInvisible Emperor, the madman who defied the world. Dick stoodpetrified, staring into the mild face of the old man, still incapableof speech. Then a herald, carrying a long trumpet, to which a squarebanner was attached, strode forward from one side of the grotesqueassemblage. 

"Dog, on your knees when His Majesty deigns to admit you to thePresence!" he shouted. 

The guard at Dick's side prodded him with his glass rod. 

Then the storm of mad fury in Dick's heart released limbs and voice. The cry that came from his lips was like nothing human. He leaped uponthe guard with a swift uppercut that sent him sprawling. 

The glass rod slipped from his hands to the rug, striking the edge ofhis shoe, and broke to fragments. A single streak of fire shot fromit, blasting a black streak across the Oriental rug. 

Dick leaped toward the throne, and the assemblage, as if paralyzed byhis sudden maneuver, remained watching him without moving. Then awoman screamed, and instantly the picturesque gathering had dissolvedinto a mob placing itself about the person of the Emperor, who sprangfrom his throne in agitation. 

Dick was almost at the steps. But it was not at the Emperor that heleaped. He sprang to Hargreaves's side. "Mr. President, I'm anAmerican, " he babbled. "We've located this gang, we'll blow them offthe face of the earth. In chains--God, in chains, sir--"

Dick stumbled over the length of his own chain that he had beendragging behind him--stumbled and fell prone upon the floor. Before hecould regain his feet they were upon him. 

 * * * * *

A dozen men were holding him, despite his mad, frenzied struggles, andas, at length, he paused, exhausted, one of them, covering his headwith a glass rod, looked up at the Emperor, who had resumed his seat. 

Dick calmed himself. Still gripped, he straightened his body, and gavethe mad monarch back look for look. For a moment the two men regardedeach other. Then a peal of laughter broke from the Invisible Emperor'slips. And any one who heard that peal--any one save those accustomedto him--might have known that it was a madman's laughter. 

He flung back his head and laughed, and the whole crowd laughed too. All those sycophants roared and chuckled--all except Fredegonde. Itwas not till afterward that Dick remembered that. 

He stood up. "Dog of an American, " he roared, "do you know why youwere brought here? It was because I wanted one Yankee to live and seethe irresistible powers that I exercise, so that he can go back andreport on them to those fools in Washington who still think they candefy me, the messenger of the All-Highest. 

"I tell you that the things I have done are nothing in comparison withthe things that I have yet to do, if your insane government ofpig-headed fools persists in its defiance. It is my plan to send youback to tell them that their President lies bound in gold chains as myfootstool. That the hurricane which spread the gas through southernAmerica was a mere summer zephyr in comparison with the storm that Ishall send next. 

 * * * * *

"All the resources of Nature are at my command thanks to theillustrious chemists who have been secretly working for the past tenyears to serve me. I, the All-Highest, have been commanded by theAlmighty to scourge the world for its insolence in rejecting me, andespecially the pig-race of Yankees whose pride has grown so great. Mine is the divinely appointed task to cast down your ridiculousdemocracies and re-establish the divine world-order of an Emperor andhis nobility. 

"That is why I have chosen, to permit so mean a thing as you to live. As for the old fool beside you, who thought to stay my power with hisbox of tricks--his gas-box is already being analyzed by my chemists, and in a few hours the trivial secret will be at my disposal. "

"And that's just where you're wrong, " piped old Luke Evans in hiscracked voice. "That gas can't be analyzed, because it contains anunknown isotope, and, as for yourself, you're nothing but a daft oldfool, with your tin-horn trumpery!"

For a moment the Emperor stood like a statue, staring at old Luke. Theexpression on his face was that of a madman, but a madman throughwhose brain a straggling ray of realization has dawned. It was thelook upon his face that held the whole assemblage spellbound. Thensuddenly came intervention. 

Through a doorway in the side of the hall came one of the officers inblack. He advanced to the foot of the throne and made a deep, hurriedbow, speaking rapidly in some language incomprehensible to Dick. 

The Emperor started, and then a peal of laughter left his lips. 

"Pig of a Yankee, " he shouted to Dick, "your contemptible navy's nowapproaching our shores, with a dirigible scout above it. You shall nowsee how I deal with such swine!"

CHAPTER X

_The Tricks of the Trade_

He barked a command, and instantly Dick was seized by two of theguards, one of whom--the one Dick had knocked down--took the occasionto administer a buffeting in the process of overcoming him. For thesight of the honored President of the United States--that kindly oldman straining his eyes to meet Dick's own--in the parti-colored garbof red and yellow, and chained like a beast below the madman's throne, again filled Dick with a fury beyond all control. 

It was only when he had been half-stunned again by the vicious blowsof his captors, delivered with short truncheons of heavy wood, that atlength he desisted from his futile struggle. 

With swimming eyes he looked upon the gathering about the throne, which, again taking its cue from the madman, way roaring with laughterat his antics. And again Dick's eyes encountered those of FredegondeValmy. 

The girl was not smiling. She was looking straight at him, and for amoment it seemed to Dick as if he read some message in her eyes. 

Only for an instant that idea flashed through his mind. He was in nomood to receive messages. As he stood panting like a wild beast atbay, suddenly a filmy substance was thrown over his head from behind. Then, as his face emerged, and the rest of his body was swiftlyenveloped, he realized what was happening. 

They had thrown over him one of the invisible garments. He could feelthe stuff about him, but he could no longer see his own body or limbs. 

From his own ken, Dick Rennell had vanished utterly. Where his legsand feet should have been, there was only the rug, with the burn fromthe glass tube. He raised one arm and could not see arm or fingers. 

In another moment invisible cords had been flung around him. Dick'sefforts to renew the struggle were quickly cut short. Trussedhelplessly, he could only stand glaring at the madman rocking withlaughter upon his tinsel throne. Beside him, similarly bound, stoodLuke Evans, but Dick was only conscious of the old man's presence byreason of the short, rasping, emphatic curses that broke from hislips. 

 * * * * *

The Emperor turned on his throne and beckoned to Von Kettler, whoapproached with a deferential bow. 

"Nobility, we charge you with the care of these two prisoners, " headdressed him. "Have the old one removed to the laboratory, and giveorders that he shall assist our chemists to the best of his power intheir analysis of the black gas. As for the other, take him up to thecentral office, and show him how we deal with Yankees and all otherpigs. Show him everything, so that he may take back a correct accountof our irresistible powers when we dismiss him. "

"Come!" barked one of the guards in Dick's ear. 

Dick attempted no further resistance. Convinced of its futility, sickand reeling from the blows he had received, he accompanied his captorsquietly. There was nothing more that he could do, either for PresidentHargreaves or for old Luke, but he still imagined the possibility ofsomehow warning the approaching fleet or the occupants of thedirigible. 

He was led along the passage, past the guards, and up the stairsagain. The top door opened upon vacancy; it closed, and vanished. Dickfelt the rugs beneath his feet, but he was to all appearances standingon a square of bare earth in the middle of a prairie. 

"Come!" barked the guard again, and Dick accompanied him, trailing hissilver chain. Behind came Von Kettler. 

"Here are steps!" said the guard, after they had proceeded a shortdistance. 

Dick stumbled against the lowest step of an invisible flight. Thebreeze was cut off, showing that they had entered a building. Underneath was a large oval of bare ground. Dick found a handrail andgroped his way up around a spiral staircase, four flights of it. 

"Here is a room!"

 * * * * *

Dick saw that widening edge of door again. The room inside wasperfectly visible, though it seemed to be supported upon air. It was aspheroid, of huge size, with a number of large windows set into thewalls, and it was filled with machinery. About a dozen workmen inblue blouses were moving to and fro, attending to what appeared to bea number of enormous dynamos, but there were other apparatus of whosesignificance Dick was ignorant. The dynamos were whirring with intensevelocity, but not the slightest sound was audible. 

Von Kettler stepped to a switch attached to a stanchion of whitemetal, surmounted by a huge opaque glass dome, and threw it over. Instantly the hum and whir of machinery became audible, the sound offootsteps, the voices of the workmen, and the creak of boards beneaththeir feet. 

"You see, we have discovered the means of destroying sound waves aswell as shadows, and it was a much simpler feat, " said Von Kettlerwith a sneer. "Tell them that when you get back to Washington, Yankeepig. Also you might be interested to know that most of your bombs fellon camouflaged structures that we had erected with the intention ofdeceiving you. "

He gestured to Dick to precede him, and halted him at a plain roundiron pipe or rod that rose up through the floor and passed through theroof. It was surrounded by a mesh of fine wire. Attached to it werevarious gauges, with dials showing red and black numbers. 

"This is perhaps our greatest achievement, swine, " remarked VonKettler, affably. "You shall see its operations from above. " Hepointed to a narrow spiral staircase rising at the far end of theroom. "It is the practical application of Einstein's gravitation andelectricity in field relation. It is by means of this, and the threedynamos on the ground that we were able to neutralize your engineslast night and bring them down where we wanted them. You must be sureto tell the Washington hogs about that. "

 * * * * *

He motioned to Dick to cross the room and ascend the spiral staircase. Following him, he flung another switch similar to the first one, andinstantly all sound within the room was cut off. 

They ascended the winding flight and emerged upon a floor or platform. Dick felt it under his feet, but he could see nothing except theground, far beneath him. He seemed to be suspended in the void. Hestopped, groping, hesitating to advance. Von Kettler's jarring laughgrated on his ears. 

"Don't be afraid, swine, " he jeered. "This place is enclosed. There isa shadow-breaking device on every floor, which renders us completemasters of camouflage. "

A switch snapped. Dick found himself instantly in a rotunda, roofedwith glass, sections of which were raised to a height of three or fourfeet from the wooden base, admitting a gentle breeze. Three or fourmen were moving about in it, but these wore the black uniform with thesilver braid, and Von Kettler's manner was deferential as he addressedthem, jerking his hand contemptuously toward Dick. Grins of derisionand malice appeared on all the faces. 

Save one, an elderly officer, apparently of high rank, who cameforward and raised his hand to the salute. 

"Captain Rennell, " he said, "we are at war with your nation, but weare also, I hope, gentlemen. " He turned to Von Kettler. "Is itseemly, " he asked, "that an officer of the American army should bebrought here in chains and cords?"

"Excellency, it is His Majesty's command, " responded Von Kettler, witha servile smirk that hardly concealed his elation. "Moreover, theAmerican is to witness the forthcoming destruction of the Yankeefleet. "

The elderly officer reddened, turned away without replying. Dicklooked about him. 

 * * * * *

There was less machinery in this room. The iron pillar that he hadseen came through the floor and terminated some five feet above it inanother of the opaque glass domes, filled with iridescent fire. Aboutit was a complicated arrangement of dials and gauges. 

In the centre of the room was a sort of camera obscura. A large hoodprojected above a flat table, and an officer was half-concealedbeneath it, apparently studying the table busily. 

"Come, American, you shall see your navy on its way to destruction, "said Von Kettler, beckoning Dick within the hood. 

The officer stepped from the table, whose top was a sheet of silveredglass, leaving Von Kettler and Dick in front of it. Dick looked. Atfirst he could see nothing but the vast stretch of sea; then he beganto make out tiny dots at the table's end, terminating in minute blursthat were evidently smoke from the funnels. 

"Your ships, " said Von Kettler, smiling. "This is the dirigible. " Hepointed to another dot that came into sight and disappeared almostinstantly. "They are a hundred and fifty miles away. Explain to yourfriends in Washington that our super-telescopic sights are based upona refraction of light that overcomes the earth's curvature. It issimple, but it happens not to have been worked out until my Mastercommanded it. "

Dick watched those tiny dots in fascination, mentally computing. At anaverage speed of fifty knots an hour, the squadron's steaming rate, they should be off the coast within three hours. The dirigible wouldtake two, if it went ahead to scout, as was almost certain. 

 * * * * *

Dick stepped back from beneath the hood and glanced about him. If onlyhis arms were not bound, he might do enough damage within a fewseconds to put the deadlier machinery out of commission, if only thesilvered mirror. He glanced about him. Von Kettler, interpreting histhought, smiled coolly. 

"You are helpless, my dear Yankee pig, " he said. "But there is moreto see. Oblige me by accompanying me up to the top story. "

He pointed to a ladder running up beside the iron pillar through anopening in the roof, and Dick, with a shrug of the shoulders, complied. He emerged upon a small platform, apparently protruding intovacancy. Far underneath he saw the clearing, and two airplanes on thetarmac, the aviators looking like beetles from that height. He lookedout to sea and saw no signs of the fleet. 

"You have heard of St. Simeon Stylites, Yankee?" purred Von Kettler. "The gentleman who spent forty years of his life upon a tall pillar, in atonement for his sins? It is His Majesty's desire that you spend, not forty years, but two or three hours up here, meditating upon hisgrandeur, before returning to earth. It is also possible that you willwitness something of considerable interest. Look out to sea!"

Dick turned his head involuntarily. He heard Von Kettler's laugh, heard the snap of a switch--then suddenly he was alone in the void. 

At that snap of the switch, everything had vanished from view behindhim, the building, even the platform on which he stood. His feetseemed to rest on nothing. Yet below him he could still see theairplanes, and more being wheeled out. 

 * * * * *

A sense of extreme physical nausea overcame him. He reeled, thenmanaged to steady himself. He, too, was invisible to his own eyes. Involuntarily he cried out. No sound came from his lips. He stoodthere, invisible in an invisible, soundless void. 

For what seemed an unending period he occupied himself withendeavoring to obtain the sense of balance. Then, with a great effort, he managed to loosen the cords that bound his right arm to his side. Amighty wrench, and he had slipped them up above his elbow. His rightlower arm was free. 

He extended it cautiously, and his hand encountered a railing. Instantly he felt more at ease. He began moving slowly around in awidening circle, and discovered that the platform was enclosed. Thefurther side was, however, open, and he began sliding forward, foot byfoot, to locate himself. Once his foot slipped over the edge, and hedrew back hastily. He felt on the other side, and discovered that hewas upon what seemed a plank walk, perhaps a hundred and fifty feetabove the ground, with no rail on either side, and some six feet wide. 

Very cautiously he shuffled his way along it. It was solid enough, although invisible, but more than once Dick walked perilously close toone edge or the other. At length he went down on his hands and knees, and proceeded, crawling, until his movements were arrested by what wasunmistakably a door. 

The plank bridge, then, connected the top stories of two buildings, but what the second was, there was no means of knowing. The door wasbarred on the other side, and did not yield an iota to Dick's cautiouspressure. Dick felt the frame. Beyond was glass, reinforced with ironon the outside, the latter metal forming a sort of lattice work. Cautiously Dick began to crawl up the rounded dome. 

 * * * * *

Foot by foot he made his way, clinging to the iron bars, until he feltthat he had reached the point of the dome's maximum convexity. Hewedged his feet against a bar and rested. Only now was it brought hometo him that it would be impossible for him to find his way back to theplank. 

A long time must have passed, for, looking out to sea, he could seethe squadron now, minute points on the horizon, exuding smudges ofsmoke. The dirigible was still invisible. The airplanes had eitherleft the tarmac or had been wrapped in the gas-impregnated cloth, forboth they and the aviators had vanished. 

Suddenly Dick had an odd sensation that the iron was growing warm. 

In another moment or two he had no doubt of it. The iron bar heclutched was distinctly warm; it was growing hot. He shifted his graspto the adjacent bar and even in that moment the heat had increasedperceptibly. 

Suddenly there came a vibration, a sense of movement. Dick was beingswung outward. The whole dome seemed to be dropping into space. He dughis feet and fingers under the hot rods, and felt himself sliding overon his back. 

Back--back, till he was lying horizontally in space, and clutchingdesperately at the iron bar, which was growing hotter every moment. 

The sliding movement ceased. It was as if the whole upper section ofthe glass dome had opened outward. But the heat of the bars wasbecoming unbearable, and gusts of hot air seemed to be proceeding fromwithin. 

Hot or not, Dick's only alternative was to work his way back to thestable portion of the dome, or to frizzle until he dropped throughspace. 

Clinging desperately to the bars, he began working back, reaching frombar to bar with his right hand and dragging his feet, with theclanking chain attached, from bar to bar also. 

 * * * * *

How he gained the base of the dome he was never able afterward tounderstand. The heat had grown intolerable; his hands were blistering. Somehow he reached it. He rested a moment despite the heat. But tofind the plank walk was clearly impossible. In another minute he mustdrop. Better that than to fry there like St. Lawrence on his griddle. 

And then, just when he had resigned himself to that last drop, therecame an unexpected diversion. Almost beside him a window was hungback. A man looked out. Dick saw one of the workmen in the blueblouses, and, behind him, within the dome, what seemed like an emptyroom. 

Dick was slightly above the man. As his head and shoulders appeared, he let himself go, landing squarely across his back. He slid down hisshoulders through the open window into the interior of the dome. 

The man, flung against the frame of the window by the shock, uttered apiercing cry. Before he could recover his stand, or take in what hadhappened to him, Dick had gained his feet and leaped upon him. Hisright hand closed upon his throat. He bore him to the floor and chokedhim into insensibility. 

CHAPTER XI

_In the Laboratory_

Not until the man's struggles had ceased, and he lay unconscious, panting, and blue in the face, did Dick release him. Then he lookedabout him. 

Save for the workman, he was alone in a rotunda, open to the sky, and, as he had supposed, the whole upper portion of the dome had been flungback, leaving an immense aperture into which the sun was shining, flecking the interior with shafts of light. The temperature, despitethe opening of the dome, must have been in excess of a hundred andtwenty-five degrees. 

There was nothing except an immense central shaft, up which ran ahollow pole of glass, cut off by the invisible paint at the summit ofthe dome. The inside of this glass pole was glowing with coloredfires, and it was from this that the intolerable heat came, though itsfunction Dick could not imagine. 

One thing was clear: It was growing hotter each moment. To remain inthat rotunda meant death within a brief period of time. 

_And there was no way out!_ Dick glared around him, searching theglass walls in vain. No semblance of a stairway or ladder, even. Yetthe workman must have entered by some ingress--if only Dick coulddiscover it!

He began running round the interior of the dome in the brilliantsunshine, searching frantically for that ingress. And it was growinghotter! The sweat was pouring down his face beneath the invisiblegarment. 

Dick was vaguely aware that the silence switch had been thrown in theroom, for his feet made no sound, but the knowledge was latent in hismind. Two or three times he circumnavigated the interior of the dome, like a rat in a trap. 

Then suddenly he saw a section of the flooring rise in a corner, and aworkman in a blue blouse appear out of the trap door. 

 * * * * *

He stood there, his face muscles working as he shouted for hiscompanion, but no sound came from his lips. He looked about him, andsaw the unconscious man beside the window. He started in hisdirection. 

With a shout, Dick hurled himself toward him. And he checked himselfeven as he was about to leap. For he realized that the second workmanneither saw nor heard him. 

Yet some subconscious impression of danger must have reached his mind, for the workman stopped too, instinctively assuming an attitude ofdefense. Dick gathered a dozen links of his wrist-chain in his righthand, leaped and struck. 

The workman crumpled to the floor, a little thread of blood creepingfrom his right temple. 

It was the thing upon which Dick looked back afterward with lesssatisfaction than any other, leaving the two unconscious men in thatroom of death. Yet there was nothing else he could have done. He ranto the trap, and saw a ladder leading down. In a moment he had swunghimself through and closed the trap behind him. 

The material that lined the walls below must have had almost perfectinsulating qualities, for the temperature here was no hotter than inthe Bahamas on a hot summer day. Dick scrambled down the ladder andfound himself in a machine-shop. Nobody was there, and tools of allsorts were lying about, as well as machinery whose purpose he did notunderstand. A pair of heavy pliers and a vise were sufficient to ridDick of his wrist and ankle chains in a minute or two. With a knife heslashed the cords of invisible stuff that bound him. He stood up, cramped, but free. 

He picked up an iron bar that was lying loose on a table beside amachine, and advanced to the staircase in one corner of the shop. Ashe approached it, another workman came running up. 

 * * * * *

Dick stood aside in an embrasure in the wall partly occupied by amachine. The man passed within two feet of him and never saw him. Onlythen did Dick quite realize that he was actually invisible. 

The moment the man had passed him, Dick ran to the staircase. Hedescended one flight; he was half way down another when a yell of painand imprecation came to his ears. He knew that voice: it was LukeEvans's!

With three bounds Dick reached the bottom of the stairs. He saw alarge room in front of him. No mistaking the nature of this room; itwas an ordinary laboratory, fitted out with the greatest elaboration, and divided into two parts by paneling. And sight and sound were on. 

In the part nearer Dick three men were grouped about a large dynamo, which was sending out a high, musical note as it spun. Levers anddials were all about it, and above it was the base of the glass tubethat Dick had seen above. In the other part were five or six men. Three of them were testing some substance at a table; three more weregathered about old Luke Evans, whose silver chains had been removedand replaced by ropes, which bound his limbs, and also bound him to aheavy chair, which seemed to be affixed to the ground. One of thethree had a piece of metal in a pair of long-handled pliers. It waswhite hot, and a white electric spark that shot to and fro between twoterminals close by, showed where it had been heated. 

Dick started; he recognized one of the three men as Von Kettler. Hemoved slowly forward, very softly, his feet making no sound on thefiber matting that covered the floor. 

 * * * * *

"Did that feel good, American swine?" asked Von Kettler softly, andDick saw, with horror, a red weal on the old man's forehead. "Now youare perhaps in a more gracious mood, Professor? The unknown isotope inthat black gas of yours--you are disposed to give us the chemicalformula?"

"I'll see you in hell first, " raved old Luke Evans, writhing in hischair. 

Von Kettler turned to the man holding the white-hot metal, and nodded. But at that moment a door behind Evans's chair opened, and FredegondeValmy appeared in the entrance. Von Kettler turned hastily, snatchedthe pliers from the man's hand, and laid the metal in a receptacle. 

But the girl had seen the action. She looked at the weal on Luke'sforehead, and clenched her hands; her eyes dilated with horror. 

"You have been torturing him, Hugo!" she cried. 

"Freda, what are you doing in here? Oblige me by withdrawingimmediately!" cried Von Kettler. 

"Where is Captain Rennell?" the girl retorted. "I will know!"

"He is upstairs, watching the approaching Yankee fleet, and waiting tosee its destruction, " returned the other. 

"You are lying to me! He has been killed, and this old man has beentortured!" cried Fredegonde. "I tell you, Hugo Von Kettler, you are nolonger a half-brother of mine! I am through with you!"

"Unfortunately, " sneered Von Kettler, "it is not possible to disposeof a family relationship so easily. "

 * * * * *

"It is cheap to sneer, " the girl retorted. "But you sang a verydifferent song when you were in the penitentiary, in terror of death, and you begged me to come and throw you the invisible robe through thebars. You promised me then that you would abandon this mad enterpriseand come away with me. You swore it!"

"I have sworn allegiance to my Emperor, and that comes first, "retorted Von Kettler. "Oblige me by retiring. "

"I shall do nothing of the sort, " cried the girl hysterically. "Whenyou used me as a tool in your enterprises in Washington, you playedupon my patriotism for my conquered country. I thought I wasundertaking a heroic act. I didn't dream of the villainy, thecold-blooded murder that was to be wrought. 

"You've kept me here virtually a prisoner, " she went on, with risingviolence, "an attendant upon that old madman, your Emperor, and hissham court, while more murder is being planned. Where is CaptainRennell, I say?" She stamped her foot. "I demand that he and this oldman be set at liberty at once. Hugo, " she pleaded, "come away with me. Don't you see what the end must be? This is no heroic enterprise, itis wholesale murder that will arouse the conscience of civilizedmankind against you! Order that the vortex-ray be turned off, " shewent on, looking through the opening in the partition toward thedynamo. "That gas--you cannot be so vile as to send it forth again, todestroy the American ships?"

"My dear Freda, " retorted the young man coolly, "the vortex-ray isalready charged with the gas, and at a height of twenty thousand feetit is now creating a vacuum that will send the gas upon the wings of ahurricane straight up the Atlantic seaboard. It will obliterate everyliving thing on board the battleships, from men to rats, and this timewe mean to reach New York. 

"As for that swine Rennell, " he went on, "you heard His Majestyannounce his intention of sending him back to Washington with theinformation of our irresistible power. Of course I know you are inlove with him, and that these qualms of conscience are due to thatcircumstance. "

 * * * * *

But Dick hardly heard the latter part of Von Kettler's remarks. Suddenly the significance of the dynamo and the superheated room abovehad come home to him. He had read of such a project years before, insome newspaper, and had forgotten about it until that moment. 

By sending a high-tension current almost to the limits of the earth'satmosphere, the article had said, a vortex or vacuum could be set upwhich would create a hurricane. 

The tremendous pressure of the in-rushing air would make a veritablecyclone, which, taking the course of the prevailing winds, would rushforth on a mission of widespread disaster. 

And on this hurricane would go the deadly gas, infinitely diluted, andyet deadly to all life in its infinitesimal proportion to theatmosphere. 

And the American fleet was now approaching the Bahama shores. 

Dick forgot Luke Evans, everything else, as the significance of thatmechanism in the next room came home to him. He ran like a madmanthrough the space in the partition, and, raising the bar aloft, brought it thudding down upon the dials, twisting and warping them. 

He struck at the hollow pole, but, glass or not, it defied all hisefforts. He seized a heavy lever and flung it into reverse--and twoothers. 

Yelling, the three attendants broke and ran. Out of the laboratory thesix came running, collided with the three. Behind them Dick could seeFredegonde Valmy, a knife in her hand, slashing at Luke Evans's bonds. 

Dick swung his bar and brought it crashing down on a head, felling theman like a log. He saw Von Kettler pull one of the glass rods fromhis pocket and fire blindly. The discharge struck a second attendant, and the man dropped screeching, his clothes ablaze. 

Somebody yelled, "He's there! Look at his eyes!" and pointed at Dick'sface. 

 * * * * *

Dick leaped aside and swung the rod again, felling a third man. Theothers turned and ran. Von Kettler in the van, broke through the doorbehind Luke Evans's chair, and disappeared. 

Dick ran back to where the old man was standing beside the girl, thediscarded ropes at his feet. He flung his hood back. "Luke, don't youknow me?" he shouted. 

It was creditable to Luke Evans's composure that, though Dick musthave presented the aspect of nothing more than a face floating in theair, he retained his composure. 

"Sure I know you, Rennell, " replied the old man. "And you and me'sgoing to best them devils yet. "

"But the fleet--it's approaching Abaco, " Dick cried. "I've got to warnthem. "

Fredegonde seized him by the arm. 

"Come with me, " she cried. "If they find you here, they'll kill you. "

Dick hesitated only a moment, then followed the girl as she dashed foranother door on the same side of the laboratory as that by which VonKettler and his men had fled. They dashed down the staircase, and acorridor disclosed itself at the bottom. The girl stopped. 

"There is a private way--the Emperor's, " she panted. "He had itconstructed--in case of necessity. I got the keys. I wasplanning--something desperate--to stop these murders; I didn't knowwhat. "

Dick seized her by the arm. "What keys?" he demanded. "The key to theplace where President Hargreaves is?"

"Yes, but--"

"We must get him. Where is he?"

"In a cell beneath the throne room. That's overhead. But they'llcatch us--"

"Which is the key?" asked Dick. 

The girl produced three or four keys, fumbled with them, handed one toDick. "This way!" she cried. 

 * * * * *

They ran along the corridor. Two guards appeared, moving toward themunder the electric lights. At the sight of the girl running, and LukeEvans, they stopped in surprise. 

Dick had pulled the hood back over his head. He ran toward them, wielding the iron bar. A mighty swing sent the two toppling over, oneunconscious, the other bruised and yelling loudly. 

"Here! Here!" gasped Fredegonde, stopping before a door. 

Dick fitted the key to the lock and turned it. Inside, upon a quitevisible bed, sat President Hargreaves, unchained. He looked upinquiringly as the three entered. 

"Mr. President, " said Dick, throwing back his hood, "I'm an Americanofficer, and I want to save you. There's not much chance, but, ifyou'll come with me--"

Hargreaves got up and smiled. "I'm not a military man, sir, " heanswered, "but I'm ready to take that chance rather than--"

He did not complete the sentence. Shouts echoed along the corridorbehind them. Dick replaced his hood, handed the keys back to the girl. "Take Mr. Hargreaves to any place of temporary safety you can, " hesaid. "And Mr. Evans. I'll hold them!"

"It's right here. This door!" panted the girl, indicating a door atthe end of the passage. 

The three ran toward it. Dick turned. Five or six guards with VonKettler at their head, were running toward him. They saw the threefugitives and set up a shout. 

Dick had a quick inspiration. He dashed back into the cell, seized thelight bed, and dragged it through the doorway into the passage, justin time to send Von Kettler and two others sprawling. He brought downthe bar upon the head of one of them, shouting as he did so. 

Then he became aware that the passage was flooded with sunshine. Fredegonde had got the door open. 

He darted back, passed through in the wake of the three, and slammedit shut. Fredegonde turned the key. Instantly Dick found himself withhis three companions upon the prairie. Not a vestige of the buildingswas apparent anywhere, except for the patches of brown earth. 

CHAPTER XII

_Von Kettler's End_

Fredegonde took command, repressing her agitation with a visibleeffort. "They cannot break down that door, " she said, "and they darenot ask for another key. It will take them a minute or two to go backand reach us around the building. But there may be a score of peoplewatching us. Let us walk quietly toward the thickets. If I am present, they will not suspect anything is wrong. "

But Dick stood still, driven into absolute immobility by theconflicting claims of duty. For overhead, high in the blue, was anAmerican dirigible. 

And at his side was the President of the United States. One or otherof them he must sacrifice. 

He chose. He ran forward without answering. Those squares of brownearth, set side by side, were the airplane hangars, and he meant toseize an airplane, if he could find one beneath its coat ofinvisibility, and fly to warn the dirigible and the fleet. 

A curious wind was blowing. It seemed to come swirling downward, as nowind that Dick had ever known. It was growing in violence each moment, beating upon his face. 

As he ran, he was aware of Luke beside him. He heard shouting allabout them. Luke had been seen. Not only Luke, but Hargreaves, who wasrunning after Luke, with Fredegonde trying in vain to change hisintentions. At the edge of the first brown patch Dick collidedviolently with the wall of the invisible hangar, and went reelingback. The shouts were growing louder. 

"Wait!" gasped Luke Evans. He had something like a large watch in hishand. He held it out like a pistol, and from it projected a beam ofthe black gas. 

Then Dick remembered Colonel Stopford's words: "He showed me a watchand said the salvation of the world was inside the case. I thought himinsane. "

 * * * * *

Insane or not, old Luke Evans had concealed the tiny model of thecamera-box to good purpose. As he swept the black beam around him, thewhole mass of buildings sprang into luminosity, the figures of a scoreof men, grouped together, and advancing in a threatening mass, somedistance away--and more. 

Two airplanes, standing side by side upon the tarmac, just in front ofthe hangar--not mere pursuit planes, but six-seaters, formidablyarmed, with central turrets and bow and rear guns, and propellersrevolving. 

Two mechanics stood staring in the direction of the little group. 

"I'm with you, " gasped Hargreaves. "I'm not a military man, but I'vegot fighting blood, and I come of a fighting race. "

Dick leaped and once more swung the iron bar. The nearer of the twomechanics went down like lead, the second, seeing his companionbludgeoned out of the air, turned and ran. 

Dick shouted, pointing. Fredegonde jumped into the plane, and thePresident scrambled in behind her. The group, dismayed by the blackbeam, which Luke Evans was now turning steadily upon them, had haltedirresolutely. But suddenly a head appeared, moving swiftly through theair toward the plane. It was Von Kettler, with hood flung back, theface distorted with rage and fury. 

At his yells, the whole crowd started forward. Dick leaped into thecentral cockpit, swung the helicopter lever. Something spitted pasthis face, and a long streak appeared on the turret, where thegas-paint had been scored. But he was rising, rising into thatincreasing wind. .. . 

 * * * * *

He heard a yell of triumph behind him. And that yell of Von Kettler'swas his undoing. There is the telepathy between close friends, butthere is also telepathic sympathy between enemies, and in an instantDick understood what that shout of triumph portended. 

He was rising into the line of magnetic force that would anchor hisairplane helplessly, and leave it to be jerked down and held at VonKettler's mercy. 

He released the helicopter lever and opened throttle wide. For aninstant the heavy plane hung dangerously at its low elevation, threatening to nose over. Then Dick regained control, and was wingingaway toward the sea, while yells of baffled fury from behind indicatedthe chagrin of his enemies. 

He glanced up. Thank heaven the dirigible had not approached the trap. It was apparently circling overhead. Of course the observers had seennothing, had no conception that the headquarters of the InvisibleEmpire lay below. 

And yet it seemed to be drifting aimlessly back toward thefleet--erratically, as if not under complete control. And Dick couldsee the ships about a mile offshore, apparently drifting too. Theywere moving as no American squadron ever moved since the day the firsthull was launched, for some of them, turned bow inward toward others, seemed upon the point of collision, while others were lagging on theedge of the formation, as if pointing for home. 

Then suddenly the awful truth dawned upon Dick. The occupants ofships and dirigible alike had been overcome by the deadly gas. 

 * * * * *

Dick banked, turned, leaned forward and shouted to Luke Evans, and, when the old man turned his head, indicated to him to sweep the tarmacwith his ray. 

The thread of black, broadening into a truncated cone, revealednothing save the luminous outlines of the buildings. Apparently thetarmac was deserted. It was queer, too, that the silence of the nightbefore was gone. Dick shouted again, to assure himself of what he knewalready, and heard his own voice again. 

Something had happened, something unexpected----or perhaps the crew ofthe Invisible Emperor, satisfied with the effects of the deadly gas, had not thought it necessary to go to any further trouble. 

Suddenly Dick discovered that he was almost within the circle of theline of magnetic force. Hurriedly he threw over the stick and kickedrudder. It was not till he was again approaching the seashore that itoccurred to him that the force, too, was not in operation. 

He opened throttle wide and shot seaward. He must ascertain what hadhappened, and, if not too late, give warning without delay. 

Then suddenly the vicious rattle of gunfire sounded in Dick's ears, and, materializing out of the sky, came Von Kettler's face. Startledfor an instant, Dick quickly realized that it was Von Kettler in hisplane, with his hood thrown back. 

And Dick realized that his own hood was thrown back. Two faces andnothing else, were the whole visible setting for battle. 

But that look upon Von Kettler's face was even more demoniacal thanbefore. Mad with rage at the prospective escape of his prey, andinfuriated by his half-sister's appearance in the plane, Von Kettlerhad thrown all caution to the winds. In his insane hatred he wasprepared to shoot down Dick's plane and send Fredegonde to destructionwith it. 

 * * * * *

If Dick chose to replace his hood he would have the madman at hismercy. And, if he had thought about it, he would have done so, withFredegonde sitting behind him. But the idea did not enter his mind. Consumed with rage almost equal to Von Kettler's, he only saw therethe face of one of those who had inflicted an unspeakable outrage uponthe President of his country. 

The memory of old Hargreaves, chained before the mock-Emperor'sthrone, enraged Dick more than the holocaust of lives taken by theassassins. 

He shouted a wild answer to Von Kettler's challenge as his plane spedby, and banked. At that moment there came a roaring concussion thatshook the plane from prop to tail. 

Dick turned his head. Somehow, President Hargreaves had contrived toget the rear gun into action, and now he was staring at it as if hecould not believe that he had fired it. 

And that action heartened Dick wonderfully. As Von Kettler's faceappeared again, he loosed his turret gun in a sweeping blast, andheard Von Kettler's gun roar futilely. 

Again they crossed each other's path, and again and again, two faces, only able to gauge roughly the position of their planes. Neither manhad succeeded in injuring the other. 

Once old Lake turned his black ray upon Von Kettler, and for, a momentthe plane stood out luminously in the blackness, but Dick leanedforward and yelled to the old man to desist. 

And once Dick looked back and saw Fredegonde crouched in her cockpitwith eyes wide with terror. And yet he read in her eyes the samedetermination she had expressed in the laboratory. She was throughwith her half-brother. 

 * * * * *

All this while the wind had been increasing, making it difficult tomaneuver the heavy plane; but now, of a sudden there came a dead lull, and then, with a whining sound, the wind rushed in again. 

But this was a wind still more unlike any that Dick had ever known. Amighty gale that revolved circularly, but downward too, like a vortex, catching the plane and sweeping it into an ever tightening circle. 

A man-made gale, upon whose wings the poison gas would spreadnorthward again, carrying unlimited destruction with it. Dick foughtin vain to free himself. 

He was revolving as in a whirlpool, and it required the utmostpresence of mind and watchfulness to hold the plane steady. Round andround he spun--and then, suddenly, out of the void materialized VonKettler's face. 

Von Kettler, helpless too, was spinning round upon the opposite sideof the vortex. Thus each airship was upon the tail of the other, andit was a matter of chance which would get the other within theringsights of the turret gun. 

Von Kettler was so near that his shouts of fury came fitfully toDick's ears as the wind carried them. Dick, working the controls, knewthat not for an instant could he direct his attention from them inorder to fire his gun, and the moment Von Kettler attempted to do so, he was doomed. 

Round and round, struggling, battling in vain--and once more theconcussion of the rear gun shook the plane. And a shout from thePresident reached Dick's ears. 

Dick turned his head for an instant, long enough to see Von Kettlerspinning down through the vortex. And he was going down afire. President Hargreaves, "no military man, " had got him, the second timehe had ever aligned a gun-barrel upon a target. 

"Bravo, sir, bravo!" Dick shouted. 

And desperately he flung the stick forward and nosed down. 

 * * * * *

No gale, man-made or heaven-made, could carry on its wingsthree-quarters of a ton of armored, turreted airship. Swirling like aleaf, the plane broke through the clutch of the blast. Instantly itgrew calm. Outside that vortex, hardly a breath of air was stirring. It was as if the whole fury of the air was concentrated within thatcircle. 

The ground came rushing up. Once more Dick tried to head seaward. Withflying speed lost, he was calculating the exact moment in his downwardrush when he could hope to resume control. Would that moment comebefore he crashed?

At less than a hundred feet he partly regained control. For a momentthe plane seemed to fly on an even keel. Then her nose went down asher speed slackened. And this time there was no salvation. 

Working desperately to save her, Dick saw the ground loom up beforehim. He heard the crash as the plane broke into splintering ruin . .. He had a last vision of old Luke clutching his precious watch: theneverything was dissolved in darkness. .. . 

CHAPTER XIII

_You Can't Down the Marines_

"He's pulling out of it! Keep it up, Gotch!"

Dick heard the words and opened his eyes. He stared in amazement atthe faces about him. Honest American faces under tropical helmets andabove a uniform that he had never expected to see again. It couldn'tbe real. And yet it was. One word broke from his lips:

"Marines!"

"He's got it. Don't let him slip, Gotch. ", grinned one of the friendlyfaces, and the man named Gotch, who presumably had some qualificationsfor his job, continued what was meant to be a gentle massage of thenerve centers along Dick's spine. 

"I'm all right. " Dick muttered, beginning to realize hissurroundings. He was lying on a strip of prairie near the beach, onwhich the waves were breaking in low ripples about a motorboat thatwas drawn up. 

He sat up. The world was swimming about him, but he seemed to have nobroken bones. Not far away was the wrecked plane, an incongruous massof streaks where the fabric had ripped through the gas-paint. "Whereare the others?" Dick muttered. 

Then he was aware of Fredegonde Valmy lying with a white face under ashrub. Her eyes were open, and turned toward him. 

He heard Luke Evans's voice. The old man hobbled round from Dick'sback, one arm in a bandage. 

"She's hurt rather bad, Rennell, but we won't know how bad till we canget her away, " he said. "You've been lying here about an hour, sincewe crashed. President Hargreaves made them take him to the fleet inthe other motorboat to see what he could do. He's assumed command. 

"You see, Rennell, that damn gas caught the fleet and put pretty nearevery man out of commission for good. But these fellows wasn't goingto give up. So, since all their officers were gone, they took two ofthe boats and their arms and equipment, and came ashore to settleaccounts. And they won't believe there's anybody on the island or anybuildings. And I can't make 'em believe it. God, Rennell, thoseinvisible devils may attack us at any moment. I don't understand whatthey're waiting for. "

Gotch spoke: "We know you're Captain Rennell, sir. And this gentleman, we know him too, but he seems a bit queer in his head. Talking of theInvisible Emperor's headquarters on this island, a mile or so inland. The only invisible thing we've found is that piece of a garment wepulled off you. "

"I broke my watch ray machine in the fall, and I can't make thembelieve, Rennell, " almost wept old Evans. "Tell them I'm not crazy. "

Dick got upon his feet with an effort, staggered a little, then madehis way to Fredegonde. He kneeled down beside the girl. She wasconscious, and smiled faintly, but she could not speak. He pressed herhand, rose, and came back. "Mr. Evans is not crazy, " he said. "Theheadquarters of the gang is over there. " He pointed. "Didn't PresidentHargreaves tell you?"

"He was kind of incoherent, sir. " The marines looked at one another, wondering. Was Captain Rennell crazy too?

"We've had scouts out through the jungle, sir. There's nothing withinfive miles of here. They had a clear view through to the sea from thetop of a hill. "

"I've been there. " Dick spoke with conviction. "I must tell youthey've got devices that make them practically irresistible. That gasand other things. And they're invisible. But if you boys are willingto follow me, I'll lead you. It means death. I don't know what they'rewaiting for. But--are you willing to follow me?"

"We'll follow you, sir"--after a pause, during which Dick read intheir eyes the desire to humor a crazy man. "We'll follow to hell, sir--if that gang's really there. "

"Take your arms, then!" Dick pointed to the stacked rifles. 

A minute later the twenty-odd Marines, forming an open line thatextended from one side of the clearing to the other, were on their waytoward the headquarters of the gang. And Dick, leading them, thoughhis head was reeling, felt as if his own reason was slipping from him. Had he only dreamed all this? Was it possible that the headquarters ofthe Invisible Emperor existed on this desolate prairie? If it wastrue, why had they suddenly become silent, inert? Why had they notlong ago wiped out these few Marines? And the gale--was it nowsweeping northward on its mission of destruction?

 * * * * *

Half an hour passed. Then the brown patches of the foundations cameinto view upon the open ground. Here were the hangers, here was thecentral building with the Emperor's headquarters. And nothing wasvisible, nothing stirred, yet at any moment Dick expected the rattleof machine-gun bullets or some more terrific method of destruction. 

"Halt!" The line stood still. "I am going forward ahead or you. You'llfollow at a distance of twenty paces. When you see me stop, feel forthe door in the wall, and if I disappear, follow me. You understand?"

The Marines assented cheerfully. No harm in humoring this poor devilof an officer who had crashed and lost his wits. Like Luke Evans, shambling up through the line to Dick's side. Dick advanced. At anymoment now the concentrated fire of the Emperor's men should blastthem all to smithereens. Nothing happened. 

And it was no dream, for Dick's outstretched hand encountered theexterior wall of the building. He had gauged his way accurately, too, for a step or two brought him to the door. He stepped inside. He wasinside the private door that led to the Emperor's quarters, throughwhich he had passed with Fredegonde, Hargreaves, and Luke Evans intheir flight. It had been broken down, contrary to the girl'spredictions, and the deserted passage within was perfectly visible tothem all. 

Stupefied, the Marines bumped and jostled with each other as theycrowded in. If they had been anything but Marines, their own headsmight have been turned at the discovery of this sudden materializationof a building out of nothingness. 

Being Marines, they only grinned sheepishly, and followed along thecorridor. 

 * * * * *

The first human being they saw was one of the guards, in a blacktunic. He was leaning against a wall, and he was a human being nolonger. He looked as if he was asleep, but he was stone dead, with aplacid look on his face. 

Two more dead guards lay across each other, with smiles on theirfaces: and there was a workman in a blue blouse who had been in atremendous hurry to get somewhere, from his appearance, and had nevergot there. He had fallen asleep instead, and never wakened. 

Dick found a stairway and led the way up. He thought it ran up to thelaboratory, but, instead, the room into which he emerged was theante-room of the Invisible Emperor's audience hall. Six dead guardslay in a heap in front of the curtain, and they had died asunconcerned as their fellows, to judge by the pacific expressions ontheir faces. 

Dick passed through into the throne room. The Marines, behind him, forthe first time uttered exclamations of awe--of pity. 

The terrific scene that met Dick's eyes would be burned into his braintill his last day. 

Upon his throne, head flung back, sat the Invisible Emperor, hisfeatures set in a sardonic leer of death. And all about him, somesitting, some lying, supporting one another, were his court, officersin black uniforms with the silver braid, and women in court dress. Andall were dead too. But they had not known they had died. They hadfallen asleep--upon the instant that their own volatile gas reachedthem. 

 * * * * *

"I guess that's the explanation, sir, " said old Luke Evans. "Thosedevils made the whirlwind and charged it with the gas. But when youreversed that lever, you reversed the process. Instead of projectingthe force outwardly, you made a suction, and every atom of the gasthat hadn't travelled beyond the radius came rushing back and filledthe building. If we'd entered a half-hour later, we'd have been deadones ourselves, but the gas was volatile enough to disperse throughthe chinks and crannies. Anyway, it's all over now. "

Yes, it was all over, Dick thought, as he sat in his deck chair uponthe cruiser that was bearing him northward. The menace to worldgovernment had been destroyed and with it all who had been behind it. There would be a new order in the world, a new and kindliergovernment. Men would feel closer to one another than in the past. Half the personnel of the fleet had escaped the invisible death, andonly one cruiser and the dirigible had been lost in the confusion. There would be a great reception when they put into Charleston. 

Dick bent over Fredegonde, who was asleep in her chair beside him. Theship's surgeon had promised recovery for her. She shouldn't suffer forher half-voluntary part in the business, Dick said to himself. It wasgoing to be his task to help her to forget. 

[Advertisement: ]

Prisoners on the Electron

_By Robert H. Leitfred_

[Sidenote: Fate throws two young Earthians into desperate conflictwith the primeval monsters of an electron's savage jungles. ]

[Illustration: _The gaping mouth jerked forward. _]

The blood-red glow of a slanting sun bathed the towers of New York'sserrated skyline, then dropped into a molten sea beyond the winterhorizon. Friday, the last day of Jupiter, the thirteenth month of theearth's new calendar, had drawn to a close. In a few hours the year of1999 would end--at midnight, to be exact. 

Far below the towers stretched well lighted canyons teeming withhumanity. At an upper level where once the elevated trains had roaredand rumbled in an antiquated period long past, an orderly mass ofworkers and shoppers was borne at an incredible speed from lowerManhattan to towering apartments that stretched northward toPeekskill. The northbound traffic was heaviest at this hour and themoving sidewalk bands were jammed to their capacity. 

Street cars, now obsolete, had vanished from the streets under the neworder of things as had also passenger cars, taxis and trucks. Speedpredominated. Noise had practically been eliminated. Except for thegentle throb of giant motors far underground, the city was cloaked insilence. 

At regular intervals along the four-speed moving bands that formed thetransportation of the great metropolis, huge circular shafts of steelmounted upward beyond the roofs of the tallest buildings. Within theseshafts, swift elevators carried passengers who lived in the outlyingdistricts to the level of the station platforms of the interstateoperating transport planes. 

 * * * * *

Close to the entrance of one of the steel shafts stood a young man alittle above medium height. His deep-sunken eyes were those of adreamer, a searcher. They were the eyes of a man who had seen strangeand startling things. At present they were staring into the pulsingwave of humanity flowing northward on the endless steel bands beyondthe platform. 

Quite suddenly they lighted with pleasure as a man and a girl detachedthemselves from the swift moving river of people and hurried to thespot where he stood. 

"Think we were never coming?" Karl Danzig's eyes were much like thoseof Aaron Carruthers. Just now they sparkled with suppressedexcitement. 

Aaron Carruthers smiled in turn. "No, Karl. Any man but you. Icouldn't imagine you being late. " He turned his attention to the slim, dark haired girl. "Nanette, " he murmured, extending his hand, "Ididn't think you'd come. "

Dazzling white teeth caught the glow of the blue-white incandescentsalong the platform, and became under the bow of her red lips a stringof priceless pearls. 

"I had to come, Aaron. Karl has done nothing but talk of your amazingdiscovery. The experiment fairly frightens me at times especially whenI recall the sad fate of your friend, the missing Professor Dahlgren. I wish you boys would give up the idea--"

"Nan, be still, " broke in Karl, with brotherly rudeness. Turning toCarruthers. "Everything all ready, Aaron?" he asked. 

 * * * * *

Carruthers nodded. "As far as humanly possible. The element of erroris always present. I've checked and re-checked my calculations. I'veaugmented the vacuum tubes by installing three super-dimensionalinverse power tubes. " He clasped the girl's arm. "The street is noplace to talk. Let's go to the laboratory. "

They crossed the moving bands by an overhead bridge and cut down anarrow canyon to the entrance of a crosstown series of bands. Theystepped onto the first band. The speed was moderate. From there theymoved over to the second. Carruthers was in a hurry. He guided thegirl and her brother across the third to the fourth band of movingsteel. 

Buildings slid past them like wraiths in the electric light. They feltno winter chill, for the streets and platforms were heated by aconstant flow of warm air from slots ingeniously arranged in the bandof swift moving metal upon which they stood. Within a few minutes theyhad arrived at their destination. Quickly they reversed their pathacross the moving bands until they reached the disembarking platform. A short distance from the station they came to the entrance of a hugetower building. 

Carruthers nodded to the doorman and they were admitted into a marblehallway. A silent, unattended lift bore them swiftly to theseventy-fifth floor. Down a deep carpeted hallway they moved. Carruthers touched his door. It opened. He stood to one side as theother two entered. 

 * * * * *

Nanette cried with delight at the luxurious splendor of the place. "Why, Aaron, I never dreamed the night view could be quite sodelightful! I do believe that if the horrid government had not takendown that little Statue of Liberty and substituted the Shaft Triumphin its place, that I could easily see her fingers clasping the torchshe was reputed to hold. 

"Progress, dear girl, " shrugged Carruthers, holding out his hands forher cape. "By the way, have you folks eaten?"

"Not in a week, " said Karl. 

"Von Sternberger's food tablets, " informed the girl. 

Carruthers nodded. His deep-set eyes regarded them appraisingly. "Anyill effects?"

"None whatever, " spoke Danzig. "Neither of us have the slightestcraving for food. "

"Good. Did you bring any with you?"

"A whole carton. "

"Then I guess we're already to make the experiment. You're sure. Nanette, that you're not afraid of. .. . "

"Don't be silly, Aaron. I haven't grown up with Karl for nothing. He'salways used me for the disagreeable end of his crazy experiments. Andbesides, " she smiled on both men. "I have a woman's curiosity for theunknown. "

"Very well, " said Carruthers gravely. From his waistcoat pocket hetook a ring of keys and inserted one of them into the lock of animmense steel door. "Our laboratory, " he announced, swinging the doorwide. 

 * * * * *

Nanette's eyes opened wide at the paneled whiteness of the room. Mostof the far side was taken up with electrical machines, dynamos, generators and glass enclosed motors of an advanced type. Overhead, concealed lights made the room as light as day. A heavy glass railingshielded a square spot in the exact center of the room. 

"What's that for?" asked the girl. 

Danzig and Carruthers both regarded it with troubled eyes. It wasCarruthers who spoke. 

"That railing marks the spot where Professor Dahlgren stood when therays of our atomic machine struck him. "

"You mean, " breathed the girl, "that he never moved from that spotafter the rays touched his body? What happened?"

Karl had already divested himself of his coat and was checking thecopper cables leading into a strange machine. 

"It was rather curious, " remarked Carruthers. "The moment the raytouched him his body began to dwindle. But evidently he suffered nopain. As a matter of fact his mind remained quite clear. "

"How did you know?"

"As he dwindled in size, " continued Carruthers, "he shouted warninglythat the rays had become confused and for us to cut the switch. Butthe warning came a fraction of a second too late. Even as my fingersopened the contact, his body dwindled to a mere speck and disappearedentirely from sight. "

 * * * * *

Nanette gazed with staring eyes at the ill-fated spot. Her face hadgrown steadily paler. "Oh, Aaron! It's awful! What do you supposehappened?"

Carruthers eyes glowed strangely. "I didn't exactly know at the time, Nanette. I'm not sure that I know even now. But I've got a theory andKarl has helped me to build a second machine to flash a restoring rayon the square spot. What will take place I cannot even conjecture. "

"Let's get on with the experiment, " interrupted Karl. "Nanette can beshown later what she is to do. "

Carruthers turned to Danzig. "All right. Karl. Draw up a chair to yourmachine. And you, Nanette, sit close to this switch. It's off now. Toturn it on, simply push it forward until the copper plates slide intoeach other. To turn the current off, you pull sharply out. However, wearen't quite ready. "

He shifted his position until he stood before a third machineslightly smaller than the other two. His fingers clicked a switch. Thedial of the instrument glowed whitely. 

"It's important, " continued Carruthers, "that we first locate ourinterference. We have here, Nanette, a common television receivingapparatus capable of picking up news and pictures from any corner ofthe globe. Ready, Karl?"

Danzig clicked on the switch before his own machine and turned one ofthe many dials mounted on the panel in front of him. A faint humfilled the room as the generator settled to its task. 

 * * * * *

Carruthers reached up and dimmed the overhead lights. A screen of whatlooked like frosted glass set in the wall glowed luminously. Theinterior of a famous broadcasting studio became mirrored in the glassscreen. Into it stepped the master of ceremonies. He spoke briefly ofthe New Year's activities that would soon take place when thetwenty-eighth day of Jupiter ended at midnight. 

"Boston, " said Carruthers. "Too near. "

"Try Frisco, " suggested Karl. "The tubes ought to be sufficientlyheated by this time. "

The dial whirled beneath Carruthers slender fingers. The picturesframed in the frosted panel faded. Another took its place. SanFrancisco--an afternoon concert. Carruthers saw and listened for amoment, then moved thousands of miles out to sea. 

Shanghai drifted into the panel, announcing in sing-song accents theweather reports. Following this came reports of various uprisingsalong the Manchurian border. 

While yet the three listeners and watchers bent their heads toward thepanel in the wall, a strange thing occurred. The silver frostiness ofthe screen became violently agitated with what looked like tiny sparksdarting in and about each other like miniature solar systems. Shanghai faded from the picture. All that remained visible now was thejumbled mass of needle-pointed sparks of luminosity. 

"Careful, " warned Carruthers. "Slow up the speed of your reflector, Karl. There, that's better. Watch the meter reading. I'm going to stepup the power of the dimensional tubes. Steady!"

 * * * * *

From an invisible reproducer came a sharp, metallic crackling likemachine-gun bullets rattling on a tin roof. The sparks on the screenbecame violently agitated, pushing around in erratic circles andellipses. They glowed constantly in shades of bright green through theblues into the deep violets of the color scale. 

"What do you read?" asked Carruthers. 

"Point seven six nine, " answered Karl. 

"Shift it back towards the blue, about two points lower on the scale. "

Danzig twisted two dials at the same time with minute exactness. "Point seven six eleven, " he intoned. 

"Hold it, " ordered Carruthers. "Blue should predominate. " He turnedhis eyes on the dancing sparks on the screen. They glowed now a deepindigo blue. "Lock your dials against accidental turning. We're tunedto the vanishing point. "

Danzig rose to his feet. "What will we use?"

Carruthers looked hastily around the room. "Most anything will do. "His eyes rested on a glass test tube. Quickly he rose to his feet andremoved it from the wall rack. Then bending over the glass railingthat enclosed the mysterious square he placed it on the floor. Heturned now to the girl. 

"Quiet, now, Nanette, and don't under any condition leave the chair. The path of the ray should pass within two feet of you, having a widemargin of safety. All right, Karl. Set the dials of the inversedimensional tubes at point seven six eleven, and switch the power tothe Roentgen tube. "

Through the dimly lighted laboratory came a spurt of bluish flame thattwisted and squirmed with slow undulations around the cathodeelectrode. 

"Fine, " enthused Carruthers, "The cathode emanations coincide exactlywith the interference chart. Watch your meter gauges, Karl, while Iswitch to the atomic ray. "

 * * * * *

His fingers closed over a switch. The indigo points of flame bathingthe electrode gathered themselves into a ring and began to revolvearound an invisible nucleus located near the electrode. Carruthersstudied the revolving flame for a moment, then switched off thetelevision machine. It was no longer needed. 

Carefully, for the atomic ray was still a mysterious force toCarruthers, he opened a small door in the panel and drew out thefocusing machine. It was shaped very much like a camera except thatthe lens protruded several inches beyond the machine proper. 

With infinite patience he made the final adjustments and moved awayfrom the front of the lens. "Ready?"

Danzig nodded and threw on the full power of the inverse dimensionaltubes. A low clear hum filled the quiet room of the laboratory. Fromthe lens of the focusing machine shot a pale, amber beam. It struckthe glass test tube squarely in the center and glowed against itssmooth sides. 

Carruthers reached across his own machine and turned the final switch. The amber beam emanating from the lens increased in intensity. And asit increased it took on a deep violet color. 

Nanette cried out in muffled alarm. But even as Vincent raised hisvoice to quiet her fears the test tube suddenly shrunk to nothingnessand vanished into the ether. 

"Aaron!" whispered the girl, awesomely. "It . .. It's gone!"

Carruthers nodded. Beads of sweat stood out upon his forehead. Wouldthe returning ray work? He had made the test tube follow the sameroute as that taken by Professor Dahlgren. Both were gone. He clickedoff the switch and the beam faded. 

 * * * * *

With a deliberate calmness that in no way matched the inner tumultbrought on by the experiment, he turned the dials of the machine heand Danzig had worked out together. A second switch clicked under hisfingers. From the lense of the focusing machine shot the reverseatomic beam. As it struck the center of the square it turned a brightvermilion. For several seconds it played upon empty space, then themiracle unfolded before their eyes. 

Something like a glass sliver reflected the beam. It grew and enlargedunder their startled eyes until it had achieved its former size, thenthe power that had brought it back switched itself off automatically. 

Together both men examined the test tube. It appeared in no wayharmed, nor did it feel either warm or cold from its trip through theelements. 

"It works!" marveled Danzig. "Let's try it again with somethinglarger. "

"I've got a better idea, " said Carruthers, rising to his feet. Hecrossed the laboratory and went to another part of his rooms. Presently he returned holding a small pink rat in his hands. Therodent was young, having been born only a week before. "Now we'll seewhat happens. "

"Oh, it's torture to the poor thing, " burst out Nanette. 

"It won't hurt it, " growled Karl. "Aaron knows what he's doing. "

Carruthers placed the little rat in the center of the square. It laythere, very quiet and unblinking. Again the switches clicked as thecontacts were closed. 

Came once more the beam of amber colored light followed closely by theviolet. The rat dwindled to the size of an insect, then disappearedinto space. The three watchers held their breaths. Carruthers' handtrembled the least bit as he threw on the switch controlling theanimal's return to the world. 

 * * * * *

A vermilion shaft of light pierced the semi-darkened rooms. The animalhad been gone from sight not more than a minute. Abruptly somethinggrayish white unfolded in the reflector's beam. It rapidly expandedunder three pairs of bulging eyes--not the small, pinkish rat that haddisappeared but sixty seconds previous, but a full grown rat, scarredand tailless as if from innumerable battles with other rats. 

As the current clicked off Aaron Carruthers bent forward. Too late. The rat scurried from the laboratory with a squeal of alarm. Carruthers returned to his seat before the atomic machine and satdown. His face was worried. Dark thoughts stormed his reason. The rathe had placed within the atomic ray had aged nearly two years duringthe minute it was out of mortal sight. Two years!

He pulled a pad from his pocket and calculated the time that hadelapsed since Professor Dahlgren had vanished from that same spot. Nearly forty hours. That would mean. .. . 

Nanette stirred in her chair. "What happened to the little rat, Aaron?"

Carruthers, busy making calculations, did not hear the question. 

She turned to her brother. "Karl, what's the meaning of this? Thesecond experiment didn't turn out like the first one. What became ofthat little rat?"

"I don't know what happened, Nan, " spoke Karl. "Now don't bother mewith your silly questions. You saw the same thing I did. "

 * * * * *

Carruthers raised his head and spoke quietly. "That rat you sawmaterialize under the atomic rays was the same rat you saw me placewithin the square. "

"But it couldn't be, " protested the girl. 

"Nevertheless, " shrugged Carruthers. "It was the same animal--only ithad aged nearly two years during the brief time interval it was offfrom our planet. "

"It's preposterous, " cried the girl. 

"Nothing is preposterous nowadays, Nanette. "

"That's the woman of it, " spoke Karl. "Always doubting. "

"You boys are playing tricks on me, " retorted the girl sharply. "Ishouldn't have come to your old laboratory. Just because I'm agirl. .. . "

"Don't, " pleaded Carruthers, looking up from his pad of figures. "We're trying to solve the mystery underlying the forces which we havecreated. " He replaced the test tube within the center of the squareand returned to the atomic machine. 

Through the twilight shadows of the room glowed the strange new ray. Faintly the generator hummed. Lights sparkled and twisted around thecathode in serpentine swirls. 

"You needn't trouble to explain your silly experiment again, " finishedNanette, rising abruptly to her feet. "I'm going home and dress forthe New Year's party. "

"Watch your switch like I asked you to, " spoke Carruthers. 

"Sit down, " added Karl. "Don't put the rest of us in danger!"

"Oh-h-h!" gasped the girl as she inadvertently stepped squarely intothe atomic ray of amber-colored light. 

 * * * * *

Carruthers leaped impatiently to his feet. An inarticulate cry ofhorror froze upon his lips. Forgetful that he himself was directly inline of the atomic ray he lunged forward, his mind centering on asingle act--to drag the protesting and now thoroughly frightened girlout of the path of the penetrating ray. 

But even as he started forward Nanette tripped over the glass railingaround the square. Carruthers moved quickly. Yet his movements wereslow and ungainly as compared to the speed of the light ray. He sawthe figure of Nanette decrease in size before his eyes, heard themuffled expression of alarm and fear in Danzig's voice; then the roomsuddenly began to extend itself upward with the speed of a meteor. 

What once had been walls and bare furniture resolved themselves into arange of hills, then mountains. The twilight gloom of the room becamea dark void of empty space that seemed to rush past his ears like amoaning wind. 

He had the sensation of falling through infinite space as if he hadbeen propelled from the world and hurled out into the vastness ofinterplanetary space. Something brushed against him--something softand fluttering. He grasped it like a drowning man would clutch astraw. "Nanette!"

The name echoed and re-echoed through his mind yet never seemed to getbeyond his tightly clenched lips. He felt something cool close overhis hand. Instinctively he grasped it. Her hand. Together they clungto each other as they felt themselves being hurled through endlessspace. 

The twilight changed swiftly to black night that rushed past the twoclinging figures and enveloped them in a wall of silence. Then out ofthe mysterious fastness came the dull glow of what looked like adistant planet. It grew and enlarged till it reached the size of asilver dollar. Little pin-points of light soon began to appear on allsides of it, very much like stars. 

 * * * * *

Carruthers attempted to reassure Nanette that all was well, and theywere out on the streets of the great metropolis. But even as hewrenched his tightly locked lips apart he saw that the shining discfar out into space was not what he had first thought it was--theearth's moon. 

He shook his head to clear it of the perplexing cobwebs. What was thematter with his mind? He couldn't think or reason. All he knew wasthat he had erred. This strange planet looming in the sky heldnothing familiar in markings nor in respect to its relations to thestars beyond it. 

While yet he groped in the darkness for something tangible, his mindreverted to the girl at his side. She was clinging to him like afrightened child. He could feel the pressure of her body against hisand it thrilled him immeasurably. No longer was he the cold, calculating young man of science. 

How long they remained in state of suspension while strange worlds andplanets flashed into a new sky before their startled eyes, AaronCarruthers didn't know. At times it seemed like hours, years, ages. And when he thought of the tender nearness of the girl he held sotightly within his arms, it seemed like a few minutes. 

Gradually the sensation of speed and space falling began to wear off, as if they were nearing earth or some solid substance once more. Theair about them grew heavier. Then all movement through space ceased. 

Carruthers was surprised to find what felt like earth beneath hisfeet. For long minutes he stood there, unmoving, still holdingpossessively to the girl. 

"Aaron!" The name came out of the void like a faint caress. 

"Nanette. "

Reassured of each other's presence they stood perfectly still, lost inthe vast silence of their isolation. 

 * * * * *

Presently the girl spoke. "Oh, Aaron, I'm frightened!"

"There's nothing to be alarmed at, dearest. " The endearing term camefor the first time from the man's lips. As long as he had knownNanette Danzig, love had never been mentioned between them. If it hadever existed, the feeling had not been expressed. 

"You shouldn't call me that, Aaron. "

His voice sounded curiously far-off when he answered. "I couldn't helpit, Nan. Our nearness, the strange darkness, and the fact that we arealone together brought strange emotions to my heart. At this momentyou are the dearest--"

Bump, thump! Bump, thump!

"What's that noise?" breathed Nanette. 

Carruthers turned his head to listen. To his ears came the pound ofsome heavy object striking the ground at well-regulated intervals. 

Nanette, who had started to free herself from Carruthers violentembrace, suddenly ceased to struggle. "Oh, what is it? What is it?"she whispered fearfully. 

Carruthers sniffed the night air. A musky odor assailed his nostrils, strange and unfamiliar. "It's beyond me, Nanette. Let's move away fromthis spot. Perhaps we can find shelter for the rest of the night. "

But the Stygian blackness successfully hid any form of shelter. Tiredfrom their search they sat down. 

"We might build a fire, " suggested Carruthers, "only there doesn'tseem to be any wood around. Nothing but bare rock. "

"Perhaps it's just as well, " spoke the girl. "The fumes might attractprowlers. "

"Maybe you're right, " agreed Carruthers. 

 * * * * *

A silence fell between them. After a long time Nanette spoke. 

"I don't suppose, Aaron, that anything I can do or say will helpmatters any. I know that our being where we are is my own fault. I'msorry. Truly I am. "

"The harm is done, " said Carruthers. "Don't say anything more aboutit. "

Nanette pointed at the disc of light shining high in the heavens. "These stars are as strange to me, Aaron, as if I had never seen thembefore. Saturn is the evening star at this time of year. It isn'tvisible. Even the familiar craters and mountains of the moon lookdifferent. And it glows strangely. "

"I'd rather not talk about it, Nan. "

Nanette placed a hand upon his arm. "I'm not a child, Aaron. I'm agrown woman. Fear comes through not knowing. Tell me the truth. "

"Let's sit down. "

They sat upon the ground and both stared out at the night heavens thatarched into infinity above them. Presently Carruthers took the girl'shand from his arm and held it gently between his own. "You've guessedrightly, Nan. The orb shining upon us is not our moon. I'll try andmake it clear. "

 * * * * *

The girl smiled reassuringly in the darkness. "I'm waiting. "

"Strange as it must seem, " began Carruthers, "you and I are stillwithin the room of my laboratory. But we might as well be a millionmiles away for all the good it does us. Karl sits in his chair in thesame position as when we disappeared in the violet glow of the atomicray. His eyes are bulging with fear and horror. For days and dayshe'll continue to sit on that chair, his mind not yet attuned to whatactually took place. What has happened? He doesn't know yet, Nan. "

"Oh, it's incredible, " sobbed Nanette. 

"I know, but it's so obviously true that I won't even trouble to checkmy calculations. " He pointed at the silver disc hanging low in thestrange sky. "That, Nan, is not our moon. It is nothing more than aplanetary electron very much like the one we are on at the presentmoment. The firmament is filled with them. From where we sit we cansee but the half nearest to us. The glowing portion is illuminatedfrom distant light rays shot off from the nucleus of the atom itself. That atom is going to be our light and heat for weeks, months, perhapsyears to come. We're prisoners on an electron, and as such we aredestined to rush through infinite space for the remainder of our livesunless. .. . "

"Unless what?"

Aaron Carruthers hesitated for a bare fraction of a second. "Karl!" hewhispered. "Our lives depend on him. Time flies fast for us, Nan. Already it is growing light. But not on our earth. Karl still sitsupon his chair staring incredulously at the miracle of ourdisappearing bodies. It will take weeks of time, as it affects us, forthe initial shock to travel along his nerves to the center of hisbrain. "

 * * * * *

His voice shook with emotion quite contrary to his usual calm nature. "Oh, I know it's hard to understand, Nan. I was a fool to meddle withlaws of which I know so little compared to what there is yet to know. "

"Then it's all true, Aaron. The little rat that came out from underthe ray as an old rat was one and the same animal. "

Carruthers nodded. "Time has changed in proportion to our size. We'removing so much faster than the earth that we must of necessity bebound to the universe of which we are now an integral part. "

For a long time they remained silent, each immersed in dark, troubledthoughts. Nanette broke the silence. 

"You don't suppose, Aaron, by any chance that Professor Dahlgren isstill alive and on our planet?"

Carruthers shook his head negatively. "It's beyond human reason, Nan. He was lost in the ray for over forty hours. Translated into minuteshe's been gone twenty-four hundred minutes. Since the mouse we placedwithin the light ray aged approximately two years in the space of oneminute, Professor Dahlgren would, if he were alive, be about fourthousand, eight hundred years old. "

Nanette rose abruptly to her feet. "Oh bother the figures. My head'sswimming with them. It's getting light now, and I'm hungry. "

"Eat one of your food tablets, " suggested Carruthers. 

"Please don't get funny, " said Nanette. "Karl has them in his coatpocket. "

"Hum-m-m!" coughed Carruthers, following her example by rising to hisfeet. "Looks as though we'd have to rustle our food. I've got nothingon my person but a knife, a pencil, a fountain pen and some pieces ofpaper. Nothing very promising in any of them. "

 * * * * *

At that moment the sky became fused with reddish light. Over thehorizon appeared a shining orb. Far-away hills and valleys leaped intosight. Then for the first time Carruthers noted the high plateau uponwhich he had spent the night. Had they ventured a hundred yardsfarther during the night they would have plunged into the rocky floorof a canyon a thousand feet below. 

"Let's see if we can find a way down to the valley, " he suggested. "Ifwe get anything to eat it will have to come from trees. This plateauis barren of any form of vegetable matter. "

They found a winding descent leading downward. It looked like a paththat had been worn by the passage of many feet. 

"Someone's been here before us, " he exclaimed. "The ground is too wellworn to be accidental. "

"Look! Look!" pointed Nanette. Her face had become pale from theexcitement of her discovery. "What is it, Aaron?"

Carruthers bent forward to examine the strange footprint. It wasnearly two feet across and divided in the center, as if the animalthat made it had but two toes. 

"From the size of the tracks and the length of the animal's stride, Ishould say it was some form of an amphibious dinosaur long extinct inour own world. "

"Are they dangerous?"

"It all depends upon the species. Some of them are pure vegetarians;others are carnivorous. The heavy tramping we heard during the nightevidently came from the beast who left these footprints. "

 * * * * *

They had come upon the footprints where the path made a turn, leadinginto a dense growth of trees and underbrush. And as Carruthers kneltbeside the path he heard a rustle as of something moving directlybehind him. Wonderingly, he turned his head to trace the disturbance. But the woods seemed empty. "Strange, " he murmured. "Did you hearsomething moving in back of us, Nan?"

Nan shook her head. "You don't think we're in any danger from thesebeasts, do you?"

Carruthers said nothing for the moment. Instead, he looked sharply inall directions and saw nothing. "Let's push on till we come to somekind of a shelter. Perhaps we'll find people much like ourselves. "

Down the path they hurried, glancing curiously right and left atunknown flowers and trees. A bird with brilliant feathers skimmedabove their heads, uttering shrill cries. Other voices from the birdsand animals in the woods took up the cry. The woods grew denser asthey pushed into the unknown. 

In the woods at their right a rodent squeaked as some larger animalpounced upon it. Presently they came to a pool of water roughlyseventy feet across. While they knelt to quench their thirst they sawtwo young deer eyeing them from the far side. Soft feet patteredbehind the kneeling couple. Carruthers half whirled as he rose to hisfeet and peered into the jungle behind him. 

A blur of reddish brown vanished behind a tree. Man or animalCarruthers couldn't determine. He grasped Nanette by the arm andpulled her back to the path. 

"Quick!" he whispered. "There's someone or something following us. I'msure of it now. "

 * * * * *

Nanette's voice trembled slightly. "What is it, Aaron?"

"I don't know. " He turned his head again. This time he saw the thingthat was following. A low ejaculation of alarm escaped his lips. Agigantic ape! The mouth of the creature sagged grotesquely, revealingtwo rows of yellow fangs. And its orange colored eyes were burningcoals set close together. Carruthers sucked in a deep breath. 

"Run, Nan, " he gritted. "I'll try and scare him away. "

Simultaneously with the scream of fright from the startled girl, ahuge mountain of grayish flesh and bones blocked the downward slope ofthe path. Carruthers paled as he turned and faced the new menace. 

Coming directly toward them he saw an immense animal so great in sizethat it seemed to shut out the light. A prehistoric dinosaur! It cameslowly and leisurely, swinging its great red mouth from side to side. Other denizens in the woods, sensing the presence of the huge killer, fled in a panic of alarm. Their shrill cries increased the terror thatfroze the hearts of the two earth people. 

Nanette clung to her companion in abject terror, unable to move. Herfear stricken eyes were wild and staring as the mountain of fleshpushed towards them. 

The animal's long neck arched far in front of its body, and its long, pointed tail remained out of sight within the trees. 

Carruthers backed off the path into the underbrush, dragging the girlafter him. The jaws of the huge animal opened wide with anticipation. Lumberingly he turned from the path and followed. Trees crashed beforeits gigantic bulk. The woods became a bedlam of snapping branches. 

The horrified scream of the girl ended in a gurgling sigh. She toppledto the ground in a dead faint. Carruthers flung himself beside hercrumpled body and gathered it into his arms. A quick glance he threwat the spot where he had last seen the gigantic ape. The animal was nolonger there. It had disappeared. 

The man's lips became a hard, straight line. Even as he straightenedto his feet the leaves and branches of an overturned tree whipped hisface. The red mouthed dinosaur was perilously near. So close thatCarruthers could smell its great, glistening body. The odor was muskyand foul. 

Stumbling blindly he attempted to widen the distance between himselfand his pursuer. But the hungry dinosaur pounded steadily on itscourse. There was no getting away from it. Its beady eyes sought outits prey and its keen smell told it exactly where the earth beingswere. 

On and on staggered Carruthers. The extra burden of the girl hamperedhis movements. Unseen roots tripped him time and time again. Each timehe scrambled to his feet and picked up the unconscious girl. Briarstore at his clothing and stung his hands. 

The underbrush was thickening. A warm, dank smell clung to thevegetation now almost tropical in nature. Beads of sweat rolled downthe man's forehead and into his eyes. But the horrible fear of thosered, dripping jaws spurred him to renewed efforts. 

He doubled to the left, hoping to throw the animal off his tracks. Theundergrowth seemed to thin out at this point. Renewed hope flowedthrough the young scientist's blood. He stumbled on blindly, scarcewatching where his feet were taking him. A sigh of relief came to hislips. Ahead of him he saw a clearing. His stride lengthened and hebroke into a shambling run. 

 * * * * *

Then it was he saw, towering walls rising up on both sides ofhim--steep walls that he could never scale, even if alone. He tried tochange his course, but the huge bulk of the pursuing dinosaureffectively blocked his path. There was no alternative but to push onand pray for an opening in the rugged cliffs. 

Abruptly a sigh of despair escaped his lips. The walls of the canyonnarrowed suddenly, and across it stretched a wall of bare rock. Herealized too late that he had returned to the base of the plateauwhere he had spent the night. The grim, towering walls hemmed him incompletely from three sides. At the fourth side bulked the dinosaur, coming slowly, ponderously. 

Beady eyes peered down cunningly at the helpless man and woman. Confident now that its prey couldn't escape, it extended its huge bulkacross the narrow canyon for a leisurely killing. 

Carruthers glared at the monster with fear-distended eyes. In hisheart he realized that there was no escape. He had no means ofdefense, no way to combat the huge monster but flight. And even thatwas now denied him. 

Closer and closer inched the killer until its great, red mouthappeared like the fire box of a huge boiler. Hot breath fanned theman's cheek. The nauseous odor of the beast made his stomach wrench. He dropped to his knees close to the inert figure of the girl andglared vengefully into the beady eyes. 

The gaping mouth at the end of a long, supple neck jerked forward. Carruthers dragged the girl away just in time to escape the gnashingteeth. The dinosaur stamped angrily. 

Once again Carruthers felt its hot breath beating upon his face. Hecringed at the thought of this kind of death. No one would ever knowhow it happened. Not even his closest friend, Karl Danzig! What a messthings were. Why didn't the red mouth of the mighty dinosaur closeover him and crush out life? Why must he kneel in torture?

From near at hand a piercing scream rang through the air. A harshscream. A terrifying scream!

 * * * * *

Carruthers raised his head. The dinosaur had twisted around to glarehatefully at the disturber of its meal. Other screams splintered theforest air. And as the kneeling man watched he saw the great red apewho had been dodging his footsteps a short time before, slouch betweenthe dinosaur's hulking body and the wall of the cliff. Behind it cameothers--black mammals with curving arms that dragged along the ground. 

Their fangs were bared. They were in an ugly mood. Arriving in frontof the dinosaur and less than four feet from the earth man and woman, the leader silenced its followers with a low growl and turned inconcentrated fury upon the dinosaur. Its long arms drummed a throbbingtattoo upon its hairy chest. 

The dinosaur bellowed protestingly against the attitude of the apesand gorillas. The ape leader protested with equal violence. Thedinosaur shifted uneasily, wagging its heavy head from side to side. On all sides came deep growls from the mammals. 

Carruthers watched all this display torn between doubt and fear. Whichside would win? How could the apes and gorillas, huge as they were, hope to force the dinosaur away? But the apes were masters. This muchwas apparent. Inch by inch the dinosaur backed away, glaringvengefully. And having reached a spot where it could turn around itdid so. Presently the ground trembled as it made off through thesteaming jungle. The leader of the mammals turned and faced the earthpeople. Long, searching minutes passed. Its close set eyes seemed tobe studying them. 

 * * * * *

Nanette stirred and opened her eyes. The sight of the anthropoidscaused her to recoil. 

"Steady, Nan, " spoke Carruthers softly. 

Other apes and gorillas gathered around the giant red animal. Theydisplayed no hostility, only an intense interest. One by one theysquatted before the earth people until they formed a half circle, reaching from the one wall of the rocky plateau to the other. 

While they sat there it began to grow dark. Carruthers removed hiswatch and ventured a glance at it. Daylight had lasted less then threehours. An hour for twilight, then it would be dark. Evidently thecycle around the nucleus of the atom took approximately ten hours. 

Nanette sat up. "Aaron!"

He answered without removing his eyes from the red ape less then fourfeet away. "Don't look at me, Nan. Concentrate on the big, red fellow. He's evidently in control. If we act the least bit frightened theymight decide to destroy us. "

"What are they waiting for? Why don't they go away?"

"We'll know before long. I imagine they're trying to figure out who weare and what we are doing on their tiny planet. "

Darkness descended rapidly. Overhead, a small moon rose majesticallyin the heavens and started its journey through the night. Its faintlight revealed the fact that the apes showed no intentions of leaving. They still squatted before the earth people, in a half circle ofstaring brown eyes. 

Whatever fear Carruthers had felt towards the animals died away. "They're harmless, " he told Nanette. "Get some sleep if you can. "

 * * * * *

Long after the tired girl had drifted into slumber Carruthers sat withhis back against the wall, mentally trying to figure the whole thingout. The dinosaur was real enough. Yet the apemen had frightened itaway, in fact had compelled it to go without actually engaging incombat. No question about it. The anthropoids were in control. But whocontrolled them?

Quite suddenly his eyes snapped open. Daylight had come again. He musthave fallen asleep. The shrill chatter of the apeman came to his ears. The red ape leader shuffled to his feet and looked from the earthpeople to the spot in the jungle whence came the chatter. Abruptly heopened his mouth and emitted a flood of gibberish sounds. 

The gorillas and apes at his side flattened their bodies against therocky walls in attitudes of expectant waiting. 

"What's happening?" gasped the girl. 

"There's no telling, " whispered Aaron. "It must be someone orsomething of importance. Note the expressions of awe and reverence onthe faces of the apemen. My God, Nanette, look!"

Out of the depths of the jungle emerged seven white beings--human oranimal it was impossible to tell. They were huge creatures with thebodies of men. Erect of carriage, almost human in looks, theycontrasted strangely with the red apes and the black gorillas. Six ofthem appeared to act as bodyguard for the seventh. 

As they reached the space in front of the two earth people, thebodyguard stepped aside. The seventh white one came to a dead stop. Long and intently he stared at the man and girl crouched against thewall. And the scrutiny seemed to please him, for he smiled. 

Carruthers eyed the figure uneasily. He saw what seemed to be a mandressed in a long, fibrous garment. With white hair and beard, it wasa strange figure indeed for an apeman. He saw also that the eyes werewell spaced, a mark of intelligence. The forehead was high and broad. And as Carruthers mentally studied the creature, strange and bizarrethoughts crossed his mind. 

 * * * * *

The mouth of the white apeman twitched as if he were going to speak. The heavy lips parted. A single word came to Carruthers' ear--"Man?"

Carruthers nodded. "We are from the earth. "

The lips of the apeman moved painfully as if speech came with theutmost of difficulty. "The prophecy of the Great One has beenfulfilled even as it has been written. "

The red apes and black gorillas allowed their eyes to wander fromtheir white leader to the two earth people. And their faces reflectedthe supernatural awe with which they regarded the earth people. 

"It's uncanny that an animal can speak our language, " breathedNanette. 

As if he hadn't heard her, Carruthers spoke again. "We are from theearth, " he repeated. "We have been on your world many hours, and weare both hungry and thirsty. "

"Words come hard, " came from the lips of the white bearded one. "Ihave not used them for years. "

"And who are you?" asked Carruthers. 

The white bearded one paused as if to recall some distant echo fromthe past. "I am the last of the tribe of Esau. But come! This is noplace for speech. Long have I and my followers waited for this hour. "

 * * * * *

Without another word he swung around. The six guards enclosed his agedbody in a hollow square and the procession moved away. They came aftera short journey to a natural opening leading to the heart of theplateau. The apes and gorillas, with the exception of the red leader, remained outside. The remainder of the party pushed through a tortuoustunnel until they reached a cavernous opening directly beneath theplateau. Vertical openings in the walls furnished light and air. Thewhite chieftain spoke in a strange tongue to his followers, and theyinstantly prepared three couches in a far corner of the cavern. 

As the earth people seated themselves on the skins that made up thecouch they were both conscious of a far-away rumbling like peals ofthunder. Not having seen any signs of a storm outside Carruthersturned inquiringly on the aged chieftain. 

The old man's eyes were shadowed with grim foreboding. "I have orderedsomething to refresh you and your companion, " he said. "Eat first, myfriends. We will talk later. "

The six body-guards left the main cavern. Presently they returned withlarge trays made of fanlike leaves resembling the palmetto. Freshfruits and uncooked vegetables formed the bulk of the meal. In silencethey ate. After the litter had been cleared away the guards withdrewwith the exception of the giant red ape, who crouched near the openingto the tunnel. 

"I am glad you have come, " began the old chieftain, "but sorry, too. Our planet, or rather the higher forms of life upon it, are doomed. "

 * * * * *

Again there came to the ears of the earth people that far-off beat ofsound that seemed to shake the ground. They looked to the whitebearded leader for explanation. 

"Ah, you hear it too, " murmured the other. "For centuries, we of thegreat tribe of Esau have fought for the supremacy of our littleworld--ever since the Great One appeared in our midst and instructedus in world knowledge. "

"And this Great One, as you call him, " spoke Carruthers. "Who was he?"

"He was from your world. I never saw him. He comes to me as a legend. For years he toiled among us, teaching and instructing until wemastered his language. He called himself Dahlgren. Later he ruled allthe tribes. We of the Esau line he made into leaders because of ourhigher intelligence. The tribes of Zaku were trained for war. Perhapsyou have noticed the chief of all the Zakus. He is crouching nowbeside the entrance to our inner walls. He is Marbo, and his followerslive in the jungles. "

"And does he talk as you do?"

The white chieftain shook his head. "No. Only we of the Esau tribehave mastered speech. Not counting the women of our tribe thatcomprise our numbers we are only seven in all. "

"I owe Marbo my life as does also my companion, " said Carruthers. 

"Marbo looks upon you earth people as gods, " spoke the old chieftain. "He and his followers will protect you with their lives. "

"And who rules over and beyond?" questioned Carruthers, waving his armto cover the remaining portion of the electron. 

"There is no rule beyond except that of force. The Great One calledthem by name, Morosaurus, Diplodocus, the Horned Ceratosaurus, andmany others whose names I have long forgotten. They are our enemieswhom we cannot destroy. And their numbers increase from year to yearand are slowly backing us upon our last stronghold. "

"Isn't there anything we can do?" asked Carruthers, feeling a quiverof apprehension along his spine. 

 * * * * *

Slowly, the old chieftain shook his head. "Nothing whatever. Marbo andhis followers can control one or two, but when the herds begin to pushon into our territory, we are doomed. Even now their rumblings andbellowings come through the jungles. Their thirst and hunger for fleshis enormous. "

Carruthers turned upon the girl. "The old chief's words explaineverything, Nan. Professor Dahlgren has been here and gone. He lived alifetime in the span of a few hours earth-time. Now it looks as if wewere destined to follow in his footsteps. "

"I'm not afraid, " said the girl. "Nothing can be worse than what wehave already passed through. " And her eyes softened as she placed hersmall hands within those of Carruthers. "We have each other, Aaron. "

He smiled reassuringly and turned to the old chieftain. "I amCarruthers, a friend and assistant to Dahlgren. The girl here isNanette. "

The chieftain smiled gravely. "And I am Zark. Welcome to my kingdom, Carruthers and Nanette. We need you here. Now tell me of your world, for long have I waited for a follower of the great Dahlgren to appearbefore my people. "

Throughout the remainder of the day Carruthers talked. The shafts oflight paled at the end of the short day. Night came, bringing with ita sense of security against the increasing hordes that thundered andtrumpeted beyond the borders of the jungle. 

In the morning Zark instructed Marbo to remain close to Carruthers atall times. So the young scientist left the cavern and ascended thepath leading to the top of the plateau. He looked at his watch andcompared the second hand with the nucleus atom sailing across theheavens to estimate its speed. 

 * * * * *

Days passed as he made his observations. Meanwhile he had searched andfound the exact spot wherein he and Nanette had first stepped footonto the electron. This spot he carefully marked off with a ring ofhuge boulders carried up by the followers of Marbo. Then he began tocalculate upon his pad. There must be no mistakes. He and Nanette mustbe within the magic circle at the estimated time. 

Between times he helped Nanette construct their living quarters in thecavern. Zark had furnished them with skins and furs with which tocover the walls. Carruthers made a fireplace of stones and restoredthe lost art of fire to Zark, Marbo and their followers. 

Days slipped by like minutes. Short days filled with excursions intothe jungles. Carruthers' face soon bristled with a stubble of beard. This lengthened with time. Sharp thorns tore their clothes to ribbons. Nanette, womanlike, cried many times during the nights because of thelack of a mirror and a comb for her untidy hair. 

But other and more important events soon claimed the attention of theearth people. Day by day the herds of dinosaurs and other monsters oflike breed edged closer and closer to the tiny civilization around theplateau. It worried Carruthers so much that he sought out Zark and hadhim bring the other six members of his tribe together for a council ofwar. 

"A complete defensive system, Zark, " he told them. "We must make afortress of the plateau and fill the caverns with food. "

 * * * * *

Zark shook his head. "No. It is quite useless. Followers of Marbo haverecently returned from over the beyond and report strange things. Ihave hesitated to speak of them for fear of alarming you. Our planetis breaking up. Violent eruptions have caused fires of stone and mud. The rumblings you have heard were not made entirely by our enemies. They came from the ground. 

"An earthquake, " murmured Carruthers, momentarily stunned by the news. "But they are always of short duration, Zark. We have them on our ownplanet. "

"Ah, but these are different. They cover the whole of our globe. Thegreat Dahlgren noted them while he was with us. He wrote many wordsand figures on paper concerning them. Only yesterday I unearthed theserecords. The life of our planet was doomed to destruction during thepresent year. What matter if the herds of dinosaurs overrun us anddestroy lives? In the end they, too, will be destroyed. It is fate. Wecan do nothing. "

Even as the old chieftain spoke a gigantic rumbling, greater inintensity than any heretofore, shook the electron. Above the deeprolling disturbance underground rose the shrill cries of the apemen. 

Carruthers leaped to his feet and raced through the tunnel. A herd ofdinosaurs choked the path leading to the outside entrance. Marbobrushed past him, shrilling in great excitement. 

"Drive them away!" ordered Carruthers. "Like this!" He hurled a rockat the eye of the nearest animal. 

The dinosaur bellowed and backed away. The apes, and gorillas, used tofighting only with their long arms, caught on to the stunt withsurprising quickness. Their powerful arms reached out. Stones andboulders began to hurtle from the mouth of the tunnel. They thuddedagainst the heads of the great monsters like hailstones. 

Subdued and frightened by this sudden display of force, the monsterswithdrew down the path. But the apemen had discovered a new method ofwarfare. They found a childish delight in hurling stones. Within a fewminutes the slope was barren of rocks. The animals followed up theirmomentary advantage and ran screaming down the path. The dinosaursfled in panic. 

 * * * * *

AS soon as the enemy had been driven away, Carruthers pointed out toMarbo the advantage of gathering the stones up from the ground andreturning them to the space around the mouth of the tunnel so that heand his followers would be ready for a second repulse. 

Zark appeared at this moment and helped with the explanation. Hiscrafty old eyes turned with new respect upon the earthman. 

Carruthers toiled with them every day from then on, building andfortifying the plateau against further incursions of the monsters. Security and peace reigned for several weeks then hostilities brokeout afresh. 

The rumblings of the electron had increased with each passing week. Volcanic eruptions poured fresh discharges of molten lava and fierysparks along the edges of the jungles. 

"I don't want to needlessly alarm you, Nan, " he told her that night, "but the fires have started. Zark was right. Unless we have rainbefore to-morrow morning the heat and smoke will drive us out intothe open. "

"But we can go to the top of the plateau, " suggested the girl. "Therearen't any trees--"

A concentrated bellowing cut off the rest of her words. Driven towardshigher ground by the heat of the flames, the dinosaurs were tramplingup the path leading to the tunnel. 

Once again Carruthers rallied his army of apemen around him andattempted to drive the mammals away. As they reached the end of thetunnel a cloud of dense smoke stung their eyes. The apemen shrilled ina sudden panic and forgot all their previous training in driving offthe dinosaurs. Like scurrying rats they scattered. 

 * * * * *

Flames from the conflagration broke through the smoke--flames thatleaped and twisted skyward. 

Carruthers flung off the fear that held him spellbound and startedalong up the path leading to the top of the plateau. A disheveledfigure appeared suddenly at his side--Nanette!

"Come, " he whispered, hoarsely. "We've got to get out of this or we'llchoke to death. "

"But Zark, " breathed the girl, "He and his followers are still in thecavern. We can't leave them. "

Like one demented of reason, Carruthers raced back along the tunnel tothe cavern. "Zark!" he shouted. 

The sound of his voice was drowned in the welter of screaming bedlamcoming up from below as the dinosaurs and apes fought for thesupremacy of life. But of Zark and his six followers he foundabsolutely no sign. Quickly he hurried back to where he had leftNanette. 

Even as he reached the spot he had a sudden premonition of danger. Agorilla, huge and black, brushed past him on the path, carrying a limpburden under his shaggy arm. 

"Stop!" commanded Carruthers, hurrying after the animal. 

A huge arm knocked him sprawling. Spitting blood Carruthers staggeredto his feet. Up to this time he had felt no fear of the gorillas. Theyhad been orderly and well behaved. Fearful that harm would come to thegirl he ran after the dark figure ahead. The red glow of flames sweptnearer. The gorilla came to a stop and faced its pursuer. Lust shonefrom its close-set eyes--lust and passion. 

Carruthers stopped dead in his tracks. "Drop her!" he demanded. 

The animal snarled hoarsely. There came the sound of ripping cloth. Nanette screamed--a terrifying scream that echoed and re-echoedthrough the electron night. 

 * * * * *

It was then that the thin cloak of civilization dropped from AaronCarruthers' back. He became in a single moment an animal fighting forhis mate. With a snarl equally vicious as that of the gorilla pawingat the helpless girl, he lunged forward. 

Mouthing his rage, the gorilla flung the earth man to the ground. Carruthers came up frothing at the mouth. With grim intensity hefastened himself to the animal's free arm. The raging mammal staggeredhelplessly under the extra burden and dropped the girl to concentratehis fury on the man. It raised a hairy arm aloft for the smashingblow. Instinctively Carruthers released his hold. 

At that very moment the electron lurched sickeningly, causing themboth to lose their footing. The violent upheaval sent Carruthers oneway and the gorilla the other. While the man stumbled to his feet toresume battle he saw the infuriated monster stagger over the edge ofthe plateau wall into a sheer drop of a thousand feet. 

Starkly through the night came the growling roars of the giant beastsfrom the jungles below. Nanette fluttered to his side. Her dress wastorn and dragged on the ground. For all her disheveled appearance shewas still beautiful to look upon. Forgetful of the danger on all sidesof him, the animal in Carruthers saw in her pitifully half-clad bodythe same thing that the beast had desired. His head whirled hotly. 

"Aaron!" she pleaded as his arm reached out to clutch her. 

Hungrily he drew her to him. The pale light of the electron moonmingled with the roaring blast of the flames. Madness inflamed hisheart and pounded his blood. 

"Don't, Aaron, " protested the girl, trying to free herself. 

 * * * * *

Something in the quality of the girl's frightened tones brought theman back to normal. He fought against the overwhelming desire topossess with all the force of his nature. And the better halftriumphed. No longer was he an animal, but a reasoning human being. With a faint sigh he released her and wiped a hand across his drippingforehead. 

"I'm sorry, Nan, " he murmured. "That great brute drove me mad for aninstant. I'm all right now. "

Together they stood in the electron night and watched death creepcloser and closer. The plateau was entirely surrounded with flames nowand the heat was increasing with each passing moment. As it increasedthey backed towards the center. 

From under their feet came the choking cries of the apemen. They hadreturned to the cavern only to be overcome by smoke fumes. While yetthe earth people stood there waiting and watching the red death creepnearer, the path leading downward into the jungle became a mass ofmoving shadows. 

"The dinosaurs!" cried Nanette. "Oh, Aaron! We are lost!"

"Steady, girl, " soothed the man. "If we stand still they might not seeus in the dark. The smoke will destroy our scent. "

But as the minutes passed the herd of monsters increased. They crowdedalong the path and spread out over the top of the plateau. Once againthe smell of their glistening bodies fouled the nostrils of the earthpeople. 

Slowly Carruthers guided Nanette back towards the ring ofrocks--perhaps the barrier would serve to keep the animals away. Hescrambled across one of the boulders and pulled the girl after him. Ashe did so, a violent subterranean action shock the electron from oneend to the other. 

 * * * * *

Carruthers braced his feet against the ring of rocks to keep frompitching headlong to the ground. Nanette clung to him wordlessly. Allaround them the giant forces of nature raged sullenly. Twisting seamsappeared in the rocky floor of the plateau from which oozed gaseousvapors. 

"Courage, " soothed Carruthers as he held the quivering body of thefrightened girl close to his own. "This can't last. "

But the ground continued to lurch and heave on its axis. Vivid lightscrossed and criss-crossed the atomic heavens. The fissures in theground appeared now as black canals. The lower part of the circle ofboulders disappeared. Off to the right came despairing screams. Whitebodies glowed for an instant against the background of flames. 

"Zark!" shouted Carruthers, as he saw the leader of the tribe of Esauand his followers making their way along the plateau top. 

Zark must have heard the earth-man's voice, for he started forward ata run. Simultaneously there appeared a herd of the greatest of all theprehistoric monsters--the Brontosaurus. They balked enormously againstthe flame-licked skies. Zark and his followers attempted to avoidthem. But fear of the scorching flames drove the monsters forward. There followed a maddening moment of unutterable pain for theremaining ones of the tribe of Esau, then the herd trampled themunderfoot and rumbled towards the half circle of rocks where the twoearth people were crouched. 

The leader of the Brontosaurus herd trumpeted madly and barged for thehigher ground of safety. Too late did instinct warn it of the wideningfissure underfoot. Before it could stop the pressure of the herd droveit into the crevice. 

 * * * * *

Carruthers drew back to the extreme inside edge of the boulders tryingto still his ears against their insane bellowings. A cloud of heavy, choking smoke enveloped him for a moment then passed away. Then it wasthat he saw a new star in the atomic heavens, --a star that seemed toburn with the brilliance of a meteor. Even as he watched he wasconscious of it drawing closer. 

The planet was now in a continuous uproar. The ground was heaving andtrembling as if from some inward strain. This was the end. Carruthersrealized it with a sinking heart. In another minute the electron woulddisintegrate into a flaming mass of matter and fling itself from itsorbit around the atom. 

And then the light from the approaching star struck them in a blindingradiance of vermilion flames. Carruthers held his breath. Someinvisible force seemed to take possession of his body and that of thegirl at his side. The rocky plateau, now a boiling mass of rocks, dropped from under their feet. Clear, cold air enveloped their bodies. Then with the speed of light their bodies were hurled throughplanetary space, up, up, up into the vast reaches of the higher ether. 

Darkness assailed them. The flames from the jungle fire vanished intonothingness. The electron moon paled to the size of a pin point, thenwent out. 

Carruthers had the feeling of expansion and growth. It was as if hisbody was taking on the size of the whole world. It seemed to last forhours, days, ages. But all the while he clung fast to the slender, quivering body of Nanette. 

 * * * * *

Mountains and hills suddenly blazed before his eyes. Straight up anddown mountains. He tried to stir his sluggish mind into action. Whatdid they mean? Where had he seen them before? And while yet his mindstruggled with the problem the mountains dwindled like melting snow. The pressure around his body relaxed. A blinding glare of steady lightplayed upon his face. Then all was quietness and peace. 

"Nan! Aaron!" The voice was Karl's. 

Dazedly they looked around. What had once been mountains were nowdesks and chairs. They were back again in the laboratory. Severalagonizing minutes passed before either could grasp the startlingchange in things. The horror of the electronic disaster still filledtheir minds to overflowing. 

Carruthers recovered first. He stepped from the railed inclosuremarking the spot where the atomic beam had restored them after theirspace flight, and guided the girl to a chair. Karl's face was drawnand white as his eyes rested on the two pitiful figures that hadmaterialized out of the ether. 

"Don't ask us any questions yet, " spoke Carruthers in a tired voice. "We've passed through too many horrors. What was the matter, Karl?Couldn't you get the rays to work sooner?"

"Sooner?" Danzig's eyes were wide with wonder. He glanced at hiswatch. "It was a little difficult to control both machines all alone, but I switched off the ray from the inverse dimensional tubes andturned on the other immediately. All in all it must have taken mefifteen seconds. "

"Fifteen seconds, " repeated Carruthers, dazedly. "It's unbelievable. "He dropped wearily into a chair and rested his forehead in the palmsof his hands. "How long have we been gone, Nan?"

 * * * * *

Nanette pulled the ragged remnants of a dress around her knees andattempted a smile. "Almost four months, according to the passage oftime on the electron. "

"Impossible!" whispered Danzig, shutting his eyes to the truth. 

Aaron Carruthers pointed to his clothes, now ragged and torn. "Look, Karl! Everything I have on is worn out completely. Observe my hair andbeard, and the soles of my shoes. Human reason to the contrary, Nanette and I have lived like two animals for four months, and all inthe space of fifteen seconds earth time. How can you account for it?We figured it out on paper. And we've proved it with our bodies. Whatit will mean to future civilization I can't foretell. It's beyondimagination. "

And the laboratory became silent as a tomb as the three people triedwith all the strength of their minds to grasp the miracle of thestrange and unfathomable atomic rays. 

 * * * * *

PRODUCING HEAT BY ARCTIC COLD

Producing heat by means of Arctic cold is a fantastic but none theless quite practicable idea evolved by Dr. H. Barjou of the FrenchAcademy of Science. Dr. Barjou says the water under the ice in theArctic region is about 70 degrees Fahrenheit. While the air is manydegrees less, there may even be a difference of 50 degrees. Theunfrozen water could be pumped into a tank and permitted to freeze, thus generating heat, as freezing a cubic meter of ice liberates aboutas much heat as burning twenty-two pounds of coal. The heat producedwould vaporize a volatile hydrocarbon which would drive a turbine. For condensing the hydrocarbon again, Dr. Barjou says great blocks ofbrine could be used. 

Not only would the Arctic regions become comfortably habitable bymeans of this utilization of energy, contends Dr. Barjou, but heatalso could be furnished for the rest of the world. 

Now if some one only can discover how to make the Sahara Desert sendforth cooling waves, the world will be perfect, temperaturally. 

Jetta of the Lowlands

PART TWO OF A THREE-PART NOVEL

_By Ray Cummings_

[Illustration: We were invisible!]

[Sidenote: Into remote Lowlands, in an invisible flyer, go Grant andJetta--prisoners of a scientific depth bandit. ]

WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE

In the year 2020 the oceans have long since drained from the surfaceof the earth, leaving bared to sun and wind the one-time sea floor. Much of it is flat, caked ooze, cracked and hardened, with, here andthere, small scum-covered lakes, bordered by slimy rocks. It is hot, down in the depth of the great Lowland areas, and it is chieflyadventurers and outcasts of human kind who can endure life in whatfew towns there are. 

Into Nareda, the capital village of the tiny Lowland Republic ofNareda, goes Philip Grant, an operative of the United States CustomsDepartment, on a dangerous assignment--to ferret out the men who aresmuggling mercury into the United States from that place. 

Grant falls in love with Jetta, the daughter of Jacob Spawn, a bigmercury mine owner of Nareda, only to learn that Spawn has promisedher in marriage to Greko Perona, the country's Minister of InternalAffairs. 

Grant follows Perona to a midnight Lowland rendezvous with mysteriousstrangers and eavesdrops on them, sending their indistinct voicemurmurs to his chief, Hanley, in Washington, who relays them back tohim, amplified. He learns several important things: that Spawn andPerona and a depth bandit named De Boer are together involved in thesmuggling; that they have planned a fake robbery of a fortune inradiumized mercury stored at Spawn's mine, to collect the insurance onit and escape paying the Government export fee: and that they, planto kidnap Grant for ransom. 

The plotters learn of Grant's absence from Nareda, and suspect that hemay be nearby. They start to search for him. Grant barely escapes, with the bandits and conspirators in hot pursuit. He flees to Jetta, hoping that they will be able to get away together: but he finds hertied hand and foot in her room. 

The door is tightly sealed. 

And close behind him are his pursuers!

CHAPTER VIII

_Jetta's Defiance_

I must go back now to picture what befell Jetta that afternoon while Iwas at Spawn's mine. It is not my purpose to becloud this narrativewith mystery. There was very little mystery about it to Jetta, and Ican reconstruct her viewpoint of the events from what she afterwardtold me. 

Jetta's room was in a wing of the house on the side near the pergola. Her window and door looked out upon the patio. When I hadretired--that first night in Nareda--Spawn had gone to his daughterand upbraided her for showing herself while he was giving me thatfirst midnight meal. 

"You stay in your room: you have nothing to do with him. Hear me?"

"Yes, Father. "

From her infancy he had dominated her; it never occurred to either ofthem that she could disobey. And yet, this time she did; for no soonerwas he asleep that night than she came to my window as I have told. 

This next day Jetta dutifully had kept herself secluded. She cookedher own breakfast while I was at the Government House, and was againout of sight by noon. 

Jetta was nearly always alone. I can picture her sitting there withinthe narrow walls of her little room. Boy's ragged garb. All possiblefemininity stripped from her. Yet, within her, the woman's instinctswere struggling. She sewed a great deal, she since has told me, therein the cloistered dimness. Making little dresses of silk and bits offinery given her surreptitiously by the neighbor women. Gazing atherself in them with the aid of a tiny mirror. Hiding them away, neverdaring to wear them openly; until at intervals her father would raidthe room, find them and burn them in the kitchen incinerator. 

"Instincts of Satan! By damn but I will get these woman's instinctsout of you, Jetta!"

 * * * * *

And there were hours when she would try to read hidden books, and lookat pictures of the strange fairy world of the Highlands. She couldread and write a little: she had gone for a few years to the smallNareda government school, and then been snatched from it by herfather. 

When Spawn and I had finished that noonday meal, I recall that he leftme for a moment. He had gone to Jetta. 

"I am taking that young American to the mine. I will return presently. Stay close, Jetta. "

"Yes, Father. "

He left with me. Jetta remained in her room, her thoughts upon thecoming night. She trembled at them. She would meet me again, thisevening in the moonlit garden. .. . 

The sound of a man walking the garden path aroused her from herreverie. Then came a soft ingratiating voice:

"Jetta, _chica Mia_!"

It was Perona, standing by the pergola preening his effeminatemustache. 

"Jetta, little love bird, come out and talk to me. "

Jetta slammed the window slide and sat quiet. 

"Jetta, it is your Greko. "

"Well do I know it, " she muttered. 

"Jetta!" He strode down the path and back. "Jetta. " His voice beganrising into a strident, peevish anger. 

"Jetta, are you in there? _Chica_, answer me. "

No answer. 

"Jetta, _por Dios_--" He fumed, then fell to pleading. "Are you inthere? Please, little love bird, answer your Greko. Are you in there?"

"Yes. "

"Come out then. Come to Greko. "

 * * * * *

She said sweetly. "My father does not want me to talk to men. You knowthat is so, Señor Perona. "

It grounded him. "Why--"

"Is it not so?"

"Y-yes, but I am not--"

"A man?" Little imp! She relished impaling him upon the shafts of herridicule. Her sport was interrupted by the arrival of Spawn. He hadleft me at the mine and come directly back home. Jetta heard his heavytread on the garden path, then his voice:

"Ah, Perona. "

And Perona: "Jetta will not come out and talk to me. " The waxenmustached Minister of Nareda's Internal Affairs was like a sulkychild. But Spawn was unimpressed. Spawn said:

"Well, let her alone. We have more important things to engage us. Ihave the American occupied at the mine. You heard from De Boer?"

"I went last night. All is ready as we planned. But Spawn, this foolof an American, this Grant--"

"Hush! Not so loud, Perona!"

"I am telling you--!" Perona was excited. His voice rose shrilly, butSpawn checked him. 

"Shut up: you waste time. Tell me exactly the arrangements with DeBoer. _Le grand coup_! now; to-night most important of nights--and yourant of your troubles with a girl!"

 * * * * *

They were standing by the pergola, quite near Jetta's shaded window. She crouched there, listening to them. None of this was entirely newto Jetta. She had always been aware more or less of her father'ssecret business activities. As a child she had not understood them. Nor did she now, with any clarity. Spawn, had always talked freelywithin her hearing, ignoring her, though occasionally he threatenedher to keep her mouth shut. 

She heard now fragments of this discussion between her father andPerona. They moved away from the pergola and sat by the fountain, speaking too low for her to hear. And then they paced the path, comingnearer, and she caught their voices again. And occasionally they grewexcited, or vehement, and then their raised tones were plainly audibleto her. 

And this that she heard, with what the knew already, and with whatsubsequently transpired, enables me now to piece together the factsinto a connected explanation. 

In the establishment of his cinnabar mine some years before, Spawn wasoriginally financed by Perona. The South American was then newly madeMinister of Nareda's Internal Affairs. He became Spawn's businesspartner. They kept the connection secret. Spawn falsified hisproduction records; and Perona with his governmental position wasenabled to pass these false accounts of the mine's production. Naredawas systematically cheated of a portion of its legal share. 

But this, after a time, did not satisfy the ambitious Perona andSpawn. They began to plan how they might engage in smuggling some oftheir quicksilver into the United States. 

Perona, during these years, had had ambitions of his own in otherdirections. President Markes, of Nareda, was an honest official. Hehandicapped Perona considerably. There were many ways by which Peronacould have grown rich through a dishonest handling of the governmentaffairs. It was done almost universally in all the small Latingovernments. But Markes as President made it dangerous in Nareda. Eventhe duplicity with the mine was a precarious affair. 

 * * * * *

There was at this time in Nareda a young adventurer named De Boer. Ahandsome, swaggering fellow in his late twenties. He was a goodtalker; he spoke many languages; he could orate with fluency andskilful guile. His smile, his colorful personality, and his gift fororatory, made it easy for him to stir up dissatisfaction among thepeople. 

De Boer became known as a patriot. A revolution in Nareda was brewing. Perona, as Nareda's Minister, was De Boer's political enemy. TheNareda Government ran De Boer out, ending the potential revolution. But Perona and Spawn had always secretly been friends with De Boer. Itwould have been very handy to have this unscrupulous young scoundrelas President. 

When De Boer was banished with some of his most loyal followers, hebegan a career of petty banditry in the Lowland's depths. Spawn andPerona kept in communication with him, and, by a method which waspresently made startlingly clear to Jetta and me, De Boer smuggled thequicksilver for Perona and Spawn. It was this activity which hadfinally aroused my department and caused Hanley to send me to Nareda. 

This however, was a dangerous, precarious occupation. De Boer did notseem to think so, or care. But Perona and Spawn, with theirestablished positions in Nareda, were always fearful of exposure. Evenwithout my coming, they had planned to disconnect from De Boer. 

"And for more than that, " as Jetta had one day heard Perona remark toher father. "I'll tell to you that this De Boer is not very straightwith us, Spawn. " De Boer would, upon occasion, fail to make properreturn for the smuggled product. 

 * * * * *

So now they had planned a last coup in which De Boer was to help, andthen they would be done with him: the two of them, Spawn and Perona, would remain as honest citizens of Nareda, and De Boer had agreed totake himself away and pursue his banditry elsewhere. 

It was a simple plan; it promised to yield a high stake quickly. Afinal fling at illicit activity; then virtuous reformation, withPerona marrying the little Jetta. 

 * * * * *

Beneath the strong room at the mine, Perona and Spawn had secretlybuilt a cleverly concealed little vault. De Boer, this night justbefore the midnight hour, was to attack the mine. Spawn and Perona hadbribed the police guards to submit to this attack. The guards did notknow the details: they only knew that De Boer and his men would make asham attack, careful to harm none of them--and then De Boer wouldwithdraw. The guards would report that they had been driven away by alarge force. And when the excitement was over, the ingots ofradiumized quicksilver would have vanished!

De Boer, making away into distant Lowland fastnesses, would obviouslybe supposed to have taken the treasure. But Perona, hidden alone inthe strong-room, would merely carry the ingots down into the secretvault, to be disposed of at some future date. The ingots were wellinsured, by an international company, against theft. The Naredagovernment would receive one-third of that insurance as recompense forthe loss of its share. Perona and Spawn would get two-thirds--and havethe treasure as well. 

 * * * * *

Such was the present plan, into which, all unknown to me, I had beenplunged. And my presence complicated things considerably. So much sothat Perona grew vehement, this afternoon in the garden, explainingwhy. His shrill voice carried clearly to Jetta, in spite of Spawn'sefforts to shut him up. 

"I tell to you that Americano agent will undo us. "

"How?" demanded the calmer Spawn. 

"Already he has made Markes suspicious. "

"Chut! You can befool Markes, Perona. You have for years been doingit. "

"This meddling fellow, he has met Jetta!"

"I do not believe it. " There was a sudden grimness to Spawn's tone atthe thought. "I do not believe it. Jetta would not dare. "

"You should have seen him flush when Markes mentioned at theconference this morning that I am to marry Jetta. No one could missit. He has met her--I tell it to you--and it must have been lastnight. "

"So, you say?" Jetta could see her father's face, white withsuppressed rage. "You think that? And it is that this Grant might beyour rival, that worries you? Not our plans for to-night, which havereal importance--but worrying over a girl. "

"She would not talk to me. She would not come out. He has no doubt putwild ideas into her head. Spawn, you listen to me. I have always beenmore clever than you at scheming. Is it not so? You have always saidit. I have a plan now, it fits our arrangements with De Boer, but itwill rid us of this Americano. When all is done and I have marriedJetta--"

 * * * * *

Spawn interrupted impatiently. "You will marry Jetta, never fear. Ihave promised her to you. "

And because, as Jetta well knew, Perona had made it part of hisbargaining in financing Spawn. But this they did not now mention. 

"To get rid of this Grant--well, that sounds meritorious. He isdangerous around here. To that I agree. "

"And with Jetta--"

"Have done, Perona!" With sudden decision Spawn leaped to his feet. "Ido not believe she would have dared talk to Grant. We'll have her outand ask her. If she has, by the gods--"

It fell upon Jetta before she had time to gather her wits. Spawnstrode to her door, and found it fastened on the inside. 

"Jetta, open at once!"

He thumped with his heavy fists. Confused and trembling she unsealedit, and he dragged her out into the sunlight of the garden. 

"Now then, Jetta, you have heard some of what we have been saying, perhaps?"

"Father--"

"About this young American? This Grant?"

She stood cringing in his grasp. Spawn had never used physicalviolence with Jetta. But he was white with fury now. 

"Father, you--you are hurting me. "

Perona interposed. "Wait Spawn! Not so rough! Let me talk to her. Jetta, _chica mia_, your Greko is worried--"

"To the hell with that!" Spawn shouted. But he released the girl andshe sank trembling to the little seat by the pergola. 

Spawn stood over her. "Jetta, look at me! Did you meet--did you talkto Grant last night?"

She wanted to deny it. She clung to his angry gaze. But the habit ofall her life of truthfulness with him prevailed. 

"Y-yes, " she admitted. 

CHAPTER IX

_Trapped_

"Spawn! Hold!"

There was an instant when it seemed that Spawn would strike the girl. The blood drained from his face, leaving his dark eyes blazing liketorches. His hamlike fist went back, but Perona sprang for him andclutched him. 

"Hold, Spawn: I will talk to her. Jetta, so you did--"

The torrent of emotion swept Spawn; weakened him so that instead ofstriking Jetta, he yielded to Perona's clutch and dropped his arm. Fora moment he stood gazing at his daughter. 

"Is it so? And all my efforts, going for nothing, just like yourmother!" He no more than murmured it, and as Perona pushed him, hesank to the bench beside Jetta. But did not touch her, just satstaring. And she stared back, both of then aghast at the enormity ofthis, her first disobedience. 

I never had opportunity to know Spawn, except for the few times whichI have mentioned. Perhaps he was at heart a pathetic figure. I think, looking back on it now that Spawn is dead, that there was a pathos tohim. Spawn had loved his wife, Jetta's mother. As a young man he hadbrought her to the Lowlands to seek his fortune. And when Jetta was aninfant, his wife had left him. Run away, abandoning him and theirchild. 

 * * * * *

Perhaps Spawn was never mentally normal after that. He had rearedJetta with the belief that sin was inherent in all females. Itobsessed him. Warped and twisted all his outlook as he brooded on itthrough the years. Woman's instincts; woman's love of pleasure, prettyclothes--all could lead only to sin. 

And so he had kept Jetta secluded. He had fought what he seemed to seein her as she grew and flowered into girlhood, and denied hereverything which he thought might make her like her mother. 

Spawn met his death within a few hours of this afternoon I amdescribing. Perhaps he was no more than a scheming scoundrel. We areinstinctively lenient with our appraisal of the dead. I do not know. 

"Jetta, " Perona said to her accusingly, "that is true, then: you didtalk with that miserable Americano last night? You sinful, lyinggirl. "

The contrition within Jetta at disobeying her father faded before thisattack. 

"I am not sinful. " The trembling left her and she sat up and faced theaccusing Perona. "I did but talk to him. You speak lies when you say Iam sinful. "

"You hear, Spawn? Defiant: already changed from the little Jetta I--"

"Yes, I am changed. I do not love you, Señor Perona. I think I hateyou. " Her tears were very close, but she finished: "I--I won't marryyou. I won't!"

It stung Spawn. He leaped to his feet. "So you talk like that! It hasgone so far as this, has it? Get to your room! We will see what youwill and what you won't!"

 * * * * *

Again the crafty Perona was calmest of them all. He thrust himself infront of Spawn. 

"Jetta, to-night you plan to see him again, no? To-night?--here?"

"No, " she stammered. 

"You lie!"

"No. "

"You lie! Spawn look at her! Lying! She has planned to meet himto-night! That is all we want to know. " He broke into a cacklingchuckle. "That fits my new plan, Spawn. A tryst with Jetta, here inthe garden. "

"Get to your room, " Spawn growled. He dragged her back, and Peronafollowed them. 

"You lie there. " Spawn flung her to her couch. "After this night'swork is done, we'll see whether you will or you won't. "

"She may not stay in here. " Perona suggested. 

"She will stay. "

"You seal her in?"

"I will seal her in. "

Perona's eyes roved the little bedroom. One window oval and a door, both overlooking the patio. 

"But suppose she should get out? There is no way to seal that windowproperly from outside. A cord!"

A long stout silken tassel-cord had been draped by Jetta at the windowcurtain. Perona snatched it down. 

"If her ankles and wrists were tied with this--"

"No!" burst out Jetta. And then a fear for me rushed over her. Arealization, forgotten in the stress of this conflict with herfather, now swept over her. They were planning harm to me. 

"No, do not bind me. "

 * * * * *

A sudden caution came to her. She was making it worse for me. Alreadyshe had done me immense harm. 

She said suddenly, "Do what you like with me. I was wrong. I have nointerest in that American. It is you, Greko, I--I love. "

Spawn did not heed her. Perona insisted, "I would tie her with care. "

He helped Spawn rope her ankles, and then her wrists, crossed behindher. 

"A little gag, Spawn? She might cry out: we want no interferenceto-night. " He was ready with a large silken handkerchief. They thrustit into her mouth and tied it behind her neck. 

"There, " growled Spawn. "You will and you won't: we shall see aboutthat. Lie still, Jetta. If I have need to come again to you--"

They left her. And this time she heard them less clearly. But therewere fragments:

Perona: "I will meet him again. After dark, to-night. Yes, he expectsme. For his money, Spawn, his pay in advance. This De Boer works notfor nothing. "

Spawn: "You will arrange about your police on the streets? He can gethere to my house safely?"

"Oh yes, at the tri-evening hour, certainly before midnight, beforethe attack on the mine. You must stay here, Spawn. Pretend to beasleep: it will lure the fool Americano out in to the moonlight. "

 * * * * *

Jetta could piece it together fairly well. They would have De Boercome and abduct me. Not tell him I was a government agent, with themicro-safety alarm which they suspected I carried, but just tell DeBoer that I was a rich American, who could be abducted and held for abig ransom. 

Perona's voice rose with a fragment: "If he springs his alarm, here inthe moonlight, you can be here, Spawn, and pretend to try and rescuehim. A radio-image of that flashed to Hanley's office will exonerateus of suspicion. "

Perona would promise De Boer that the Nareda government would pay theransom quickly, collecting it later from the United States. 

Spawn said, "You think De Boer will believe that?"

"Why should he not? I am skilful at persuasion, no? Let him find outlater that the United States Government trackers are after him!"Perona cackled at the thought of it. "What of that? Let him kill thisGrant. All the better. "

Spawn said abruptly: "The United States may catch De Boer. Have youthought of that, Perona? The fellow would not shield us, but wouldtell everything. "

"And who will believe him? The wild tale of a trapped bandit! Againstyour word, Spawn? You, an honest and wealthy mine owner? And I--I, Greko Perona, Minister of Internal Affairs of the Sovereign Power ofNareda! Who will dare to give me the lie because a bandit tells a wildtale with no real facts to prop it?"

"Those police guards at the mine to-night?"

"Admit that they took your bribes? You are witless, Spawn! Let thembut admit it to me and of a surety I will fling them intoimprisonment! Now listen with care, for the after noon is going. .. . "

Their voices lowered, then faded, and Jetta was left alone andhelpless. Spawn went back to the mine to meet me. We returned and hadsupper, Jetta could dimly hear us. 

 * * * * *

There was silence about the house during the mid-evening. I hadslipped out and followed Perona to his meeting with De Boer. ThenSpawn had discovered my absence and had rushed to join Perona andtell him. 

But Jetta knew nothing of this. The hour of her tryst with me wasapproaching. In the darkness of her room as she lay bound and gaggedon her couch, she could see the fitful moonlight rising to illuminethe window oval. 

She squirmed at the cords holding her, but could not loosen them. Theycut into her flesh; her limbs were numb. 

The evening wore on. Would I come to the garden tryst?

Jetta could not break her bonds. But gradually she had mouthed the gagloose. Then she heard my hurried footsteps in the patio; then my tensevoice. 

And at her answer I was pounding on her door. But it had been stoutlysealed by Spawn. I flung my shoulder against it, raging, thumping. Butthe heavy metal panels would not yield; the seal held intact. 

"Jetta!"

"Philip, run away! They want to catch you! De Boer, the bandit, iscoming!"

"I know it!"

Fool that I was, to pause with talk! There was no time: I must getJetta out of here. Break down this door. 

But it would not yield. A gas torch would melt this outer seal. Wasthere a torch here at Spawn's? But I had no time to search for atorch! Or a bar with which to ram this door--

A panic seized me, with the fresh realization that any instant De Boerand his men would arrive. I beat with futile fists on the door, andJetta from within, calling to me to get away before I was caught. 

This accursed door between us!

 * * * * *

And then--after no more than half a minute, doubtless--I thought ofthe window. My momentary panic left me. I dashed to the window oval. Sealed. But the shutter curtain, and the glassite pane behind it, werefragile. 

"Jetta, are you near the window?"

"No. On the bed. They have tied me. "

"Look out; I'm breaking through!"

There were loose rocks, as large as my head, set to mark the gardenpath. I seized one and hurled it. With a crash it went through thewindow and fell to the floor of the room. A jagged hole showed. 

"All right, Jetta?"

"Yes! Yes, Philip. "

I squirmed through the oval and dropped to the floor. My arms were cutfrom the jagged glassite, though I did not know it then. It was diminside the room, but I could see the outline of the bed with her lyingon it. 

Her ankles and wrists were tied. I cut the cords with my knife. 

She was gasping. "They're planning to capture you. Philip! You shouldnot be here! Get away!"

"Yes. But I'm going to take you with me. Can you stand up?"

 * * * * *

I set her on her feet in the center of the room. A shaft of moonlightwas coming through the hole in the window. 

"Philip! You're bleeding!"

"It is nothing. Cut myself on the glassite. Can you stand alone?"

"Yes. "

But her legs, stiffened and numb from having been bound so many hours, bent under her. I caught her as she was falling. 

"I'll be--all right in a minute. But Philip, if you stay here--"

"You're going with me!"

"Oh!"

I could carry her, if she could not run. But it would be slow; and itwould be difficult to get her through the window. And on the street wewould attract too much attention. 

"Jetta, try to stand. Stamp your feet. I'll hold you. "

I steadied her. Then I bent down, chafing her legs with my hands. Herarms had been limp, but the blood was in them now. She murmured withthe tingling pain, and then bent over, frantically helping me rub thecirculation back into her legs. 

"Better?"

"Yes. " She took a weak and trembling step. 

"Wait. Let me rub them more, Jetta. "

Precious minutes!

"I'll knock out the rest of the window with that rock! We'll run;we'll be out of here in a moment. "

"Run where?"

"Away. Into hiding--out of all this. The United States patrol-ship iscoming from Porto Rico. It will take us from here. "

"Where?"

"Away. To Great New York, maybe. Away from all this; from that oldfossil, Perona. "

I was stooping beside her. 

"I'm all right now, Philip. "

I rose up, and suddenly found myself clasping her in my arms; herslight body in the boy's ragged garb pressed against me. 

"Jetta, dear, do you trust me? Will you come?"

"Yes. Oh, yes--anywhere, Philip, with you. "

 * * * * *

For only a breathless instant I lingered, holding her. Then I cast heroff and seized the rock from the floor. The jagged glassite fell awayunder my blows. 

"Now, Jetta. I'll go first--"

But it was too late! I stopped, stricken by the sound of a voiceoutside!

"He's there! In the girl's room! That's her window!"

Cautious voices in the garden! The thud of approaching footsteps. 

I shoved Jetta back and rushed to the broken window oval. The figuresof De Boer and his men showed in the moonlight across the patio. Theyhad heard me breaking the glassite. And they saw me, now. 

"There he is, De Boer!"

We were trapped!

CHAPTER X

_The Murder in the Garden_

"Hans, keep back! I will go!"

"But Commander--"

"Armed? The hell he is not! Spawn said no. Spawn! Where is Spawn? Hewas here. "

I had dropped back from the window, and, gripping Jetta, stood in thecenter of the room. 

"Jetta, dear. "

"Oh. Philip!"

"There's no other way out of here?"

"No! No!"

Only the heavy sealed door, and this broken window. The bandits in thegarden had paused at sight of me. Someone had called. 

"He may be armed, De Boer. "

They had stopped their forward rush and darted into the shelter of thepergola. I might be armed!

We could hear their low voices not ten feet from us. But I was notarmed, except for my knife. Futile weapon, indeed. 

"Jetta, keep back. If they should fire--"

 * * * * *

I got a look through the oval. De Boer was advancing upon it, with hisbarreled projector half levelled. He saw me again. He called:

"You American, come out!"

I crouched on the floor, pushing Jetta back to where the shadows ofthe bed hid her. 

"You American!"

He was close outside the window. "Come out--or I am coming in!"

I said abruptly, "Come!"

My blade was in my hand. If he showed himself I could slash histhroat, doubtless. But what about Jetta? My thoughts flashed upon theheels of my defiant invitation. Suppose, as De Boer climbed in thewindow, I killed him? I could not escape, and his infuriated fellowswould rush us, firing through the oval, sweeping the room, killing usboth. But Jetta now was in no danger. Her father was outside, andthese bandits were her father's friends. I would have to yield. 

I called, louder, "Why don't you come in?"

Could I hold them off? Frighten them off, for a time, and make enoughnoise so that perhaps someone passing in the nearby street would givethe alarm and bring help?

There was a sudden silence in the patio. The bandits had so far madeas little commotion as possible. Presently I could hear their lowvoices. 

 * * * * *

I heard an oath. De Boer's head and shoulders appeared in the windowoval! His levelled projector came through. Perhaps he would not havefired, but I did not dare take the chance. I was crouching almostunder the muzzle, so I straightened, gripped it, and flung it up. Ithen slashed at his face with my knife, but he gripped my wrist withpowerful fingers. My knife fell as he twisted my wrist. His projectorhad not fired. It was jammed between us. One of his huge arms reachedin and encircled me. 

"Damn you!"

He muttered it, but I shouted, "Fool! De Boer, the bandit!"

I was aware of a commotion out in the garden. 

". .. Bring all Nareda on our ears? De Boer, shut him up!"

I was gripping the projector, struggling to keep its muzzle pointedupwards. With a heave of his giant arms De Boer lifted me and jerkedme bodily through the window. I fell on my feet, still fighting. Butother hands seized me. It was no use. I yielded suddenly. I panted:

"Enough!"

They held me. One of them growled. "Another shout and we will leaveyou here dead. Commander, _look_!"

My shirt was torn open. The electrode band about my chest was exposed!De Boer towered head and shoulders over me. I gazed up, passive in thegrip of two or three of his men, and saw his face. His heavy jawdropped as he gazed at my little diaphragms, the electrode. 

He knew now for the first time that this was no private citizen he hadassaulted. This official apparatus meant that I was a Governmentagent. 

 * * * * *

There was an instant of shocked silence. An expression grim andfurious crossed the giant bandit's face. 

"So this is it? Hans, careful--hold him!"

Jetta was still in her room, silent now. I heard Spawn's voice, closeat hand in the patio. 

"De Boer! Careful!" It was the most cautious of half-whispers. 

Abruptly someone reached for my chest; jerked at the electrode; toreits fragile wires--the tiny grids and thumbnail amplifiers; jerked andripped and flung the whole little apparatus to the garden path. But itsang its warning note as the wires broke. Up in Great New York Hanleyknew then that catastrophe had fallen upon me. 

For a brief instant the crestfallen bandit mumbled at what he haddone. Then came Spawn's voice:

"Got him, De Boer? Good!"

Triumphant Spawn! He advanced across the garden with his heavy tread. And to me, and I am sure to De Boer as well, there came the swiftrealization that Spawn had been hiding safely in the background. Butmy detector was smashed now. It might have imaged De Boer assailingme: but now that it was smashed, Spawn could act freely. 

"Good! So you have him! Make away to the mine!"

I did not see De Boer's face at that instant. But I saw his weaponcome up--an act wholly impulsive, no doubt. A flash of fury!

He levelled the projector, not at me, but at the on-coming Spawn. 

"You damn liar!"

"De Boer--" It was a scream of terror from Spawn. But it came toolate. The projector hissed; spat its tiny blue puff. The needledrilled Spawn through the heart. He toppled, flung up his arms, andwent down, silently, to sprawl on his face across the garden path. 

 * * * * *

De Boer was cursing, startled at his own action. The men holding metightened their grip. I heard Jetta cry out, but not at what hadhappened in the garden: she was unaware of that. One of the banditshad left the group and climbed into her room. Her cry now wassuppressed, as though the man's hand went over her mouth. And in thesilence came his mumbled voice:

"Shut up, you!"

There was the sound of a scuffle in there. I tore at the men holdingme. 

"Let me go! Jetta! Come out!"

De Boer dashed for the window. I was still struggling. A hand cuffedme in the face. A projector rammed into my side. 

"Stop it, fool American!"

De Boer came back with a chastened bandit ahead of him. The man wasmuttering and rubbing his shoulder, and De Boer said:

"Try anything like that again, Cartner, and I won't be so easy onyou. "

De Boer was dragging Jetta, holding her by a wrist. She looked like aterrified, half-grown boy, so small was she beside this giant. But thewoman's lines of her, and the long dark hair streaming about her whiteface and over her shoulders, were unmistakable. 

"His daughter. " De Boer was chuckling. "The little Jetta. "

 * * * * *

All this had happened in certainly no more than five minutes. Irealized that no alarm had been raised: the bandits had managed it allwith reasonable quiet. 

There were six of the bandits here, and De Boer, who towered over usall. I saw him now as a swaggering giant of thirty-odd, with aheavy-set smooth-shaved, handsome face. 

He held Jetta off. "Damn, how you have grown, Jetta. "

Someone said, "She knows too much. "

And someone else, "We will take her with us. If you leave her here, DeBoer--"

"Why should I leave her? Why? Leave her--for Perona?"

Then I think that for the first time Jetta saw her father's body lyingsprawled on the path. She cried, "Philip!" Then she half turned andmurmured: "Father!"

She wavered, almost falling. "Father--" She went down, fainting, falling half against me and against De Boer, who caught her slightbody in his arms. 

"Come, we'll get back. Drag him!"

"But you can't carry that girl out like that, De Boer. "

"Into the house: there is an open door. Hans, go out and bring the cararound to this side. Give me the cloaks. There is no alarm yet. "

De Boer chuckled again. "Perona was nice to keep the police off thisstreet to-night!"

We went into the kitchen. An auto-car, which to the village peoplemight have been there on Spawn's mining business, slid quietly up tothe side entrance. A cloak was thrown over Jetta. She was carried likea sack and put into the car. 

I suddenly found an opportunity to break loose. I leaped and struckone of the men. But the others were too quickly on me. The kitchentable went over with a crash. 

Then something struck me on the back of the head: I think it was thehandle of De Boer's great knife. The kitchen and the men strugglingwith me faded. I went into a roaring blackness. 

CHAPTER XI

_Aboard the Bandit Flyer_

I was dimly conscious of being inside the cubby of the car, withbandits sitting over me. The car was rolling through the villagestreets. Ascending. We must be heading for Spawn's mine. I thought ofJetta. Then I heard her voice and felt her stir beside me. 

The roaring in my head made everything dreamlike. I sank half intounconsciousness again. It seemed an endless interval, with only themuttering hiss of the car's mechanism and the confused murmurs of thebandits' voices. 

Then my strength came. The cold sweat on me was drying in the nightbreeze that swept through the car as it climbed the winding ascent. Icould see through its side oval a vista of bloated Lowland crags withmoonlight on them. 

It seemed that we should be nearly to the mine. We stopped. The men inthe car began climbing out. 

De Boer's voice: "Is he conscious now? I'll take the girl. "

Someone bent over me. "You hear me?"

"Yes, " I said. 

I found myself outside the car. They held me on my feet. Someonegratuitously cuffed me, but De Boer's voice issued a sharp, low-tonedrebuke. 

"Stop it! Get him and the girl aboard. "

 * * * * *

There seemed thirty or forty men gathered here. Silent dark figures inblack robes. The moonlight showed them, and occasionally one flashed ahand search-beam. It was De Boer's main party gathered to attack themine. 

I stood wavering on my feet. I was still weak and dizzy, with a lumpon the back of my head where I had been struck. The scene about me wasat first unfamiliar. We were in a rocky gully. Rounded broken walls. Caves and crevices. Dried ooze piled like a ramp up one side. Themoonlight struggled down through a gathering mist overhead. 

I saw, presently, where we were. Above the mine, not below it: and Irealized that the car had encircled the mine's cauldron and climbedto a height beyond it. Down the small gully I could see where itopened into the cauldron about a hundred feet below us. The lights ofthe mine winked in the blurred moonlight shadows. 

The bandits led me up the gully. The car was left standing against thegully side where it had halted. De Boer, or one of his men, wascarrying Jetta. 

The flyer was here. We came upon it suddenly around a bend in thegully. Although I had only seen the nose if it earlier in the evening. I recognized this to be the same. It was in truth a strange lookingflyer: I had never seen one quite like it. Barrel-winged, like aJantzen: multi-propellored: and with folding helicopters for thevertical lifts and descent. And a great spreading fan-tail, in theBritish fashion. It rested on the rocks like a fat-winged bird withits long cylindrical body puffed out underneath. A seventy-foot cabin:fifteen feet wide, possibly. A line of small window-portes; a circularglassite front to the forward control-observatory cubby, with thepropellors just above it, and the pilot cubby up there behind them. And underneath the whole, a landing gear of the Fraser-Moodspringed-cushion type: and an expanding, air-coil pontoon-bladder forlanding upon water. 

 * * * * *

All this was usual enough. Yet, with the brief glimpses I had as mycaptors hurried me toward the landing incline, I was aware ofsomething very strange about this flyer. It was all dead black, abloated-bellied black bird. The moonlight struck it, but did not gleamor shimmer on its black metal surface. The cabin window-portes glowedwith a dim blue-gray light from inside. But as I chanced to gaze atone a green film seemed to cross it like a shade, so that it winkedand its light was gone. Yet a hole was there, like an eye-socket. Anempty green hole. 

We were close to the plane now, approaching the bottom of the smalllanding-incline. The wing over my head was like a huge fat barrel cutlength-wise in half. I stared up; and suddenly it seemed that the wingwas melting. Fading. Its inner portion, where it joined the body, wasclear in the moonlight. But the tips blurred and faded. An aspectcuriously leprous. Uncanny. Gruesome. 

They took me up the landing-incline. A narrow vaulted corridor ranlength-wise of the interior, along one side of the cabin body. To myleft as we headed for the bow control room, the corridor window-portesshowed the rocks outside. To the right of the corridor, the ship'ssmall rooms lay in a string. A metal interior. I saw almost nothingsave metal in various forms. Grid floor and ceiling. Sheet metal wallsand partitions. Furnishings and fabrics, all of spun metal. And alldead black. 

We entered the control room. The two men holding me flung me in achair. I had been searched. They had taken from me the tiny, coloredmagnesium light-flashes. How easy for the plans of men to go astray!Hanley and I had arranged that I was to signal the Porto Ricanpatrol-ship with those flares. 

"Sit quiet!" commanded my guard. 

I retorted, "If you hit me again, I won't. "

 * * * * *

De Boer came in, carrying Jetta. He put her in a chair near me, andshe sat huddled tense. In the dim gray light of the control room herwhite face with its big staring dark eyes was turned toward me. Butshe did not speak, nor did I. 

The bandits ignored us. De Boer moved about the room, examining a bankof instruments. Familiar instruments, most of them. The usualaero-controls and navigational devices. A radio audiphone transmitterand receiver, with its attendant eavesdropping cut-offs. And there wasan ether-wave mirror-grid. De Boer bent over it. And then I saw himfastening upon his forehead an image-lens. He said:

"You stay here, Hans. You and Gutierrez. Take care of the girl andthis fellow Grant. Don't hurt them. "

Gutierrez was a swarthy Latin American. He smiled. "For why would Ihurt him? You say he is worth much money to us, De Boer. And the girl, ah--"

De Boer towered over him. "Just lay a finger on her and you willregret it, Gutierrez! You stay at your controls. Be ready. This affairit will take no more than half an hour. "

A man came to the control room entrance. "You come, Commander?"

"Yes. Right at once. "

"The men are ready. From the mine we might almost be seen here. Thisdelay--"

"Coming, Rausch. "

 * * * * *

But he lingered a moment more. "Hans, my finder will show you what Ido. Keep watch. When we come back, have all ready for flight. ThisGrant had an alarm-detector. Heaven only knows what eavesdropping andrelaying he has done. And for sure there is hell now in Spawn'sgarden. The Nareda police are there, of course. They might track us uphere. "

He paused before me. "I think I would not cause trouble, Grant. "

"I'm not a fool. "

"Perhaps not. " He turned to Jetta. "No harm will come to you. Fearnothing. "

He wound his dark cloak about his giant figure and left the controlroom. In a moment, through the rounded observing pane beside me, I sawhim outside on the moonlit rocks. His men gathered about him. Therewere forty of them, possibly, with ten or so left here aboard to guardthe flyer. 

And in another moment the group of dark-cloaked figures outside creptoff in single file like a slithering serpent, moving down the rockdefile toward where in the cauldron pit the lights of the mine shoneon its dark silent buildings. 

CHAPTER XII

_The Attack on the Mine_

There was a moment when I had an opportunity to speak with Jetta. Gutierrez sat watchfully by the archway corridor entrance with aneedle projector across his knees. The fellow Hans, a big, heavy-sethalf-breed Dutchman with a wide-collared leather jerkin and wide, knee-length pantaloons, laid his weapon carefully aside and busiedhimself with his image mirror. There would soon be images upon it, Iknew: De Boer had the lens-finder on his forehead, and the scenes atthe mine, as De Boer saw them would be flashed back to us here. 

This Gutierrez was very watchful. A move on my part and I knew hewould fling a needle through me. 

My thoughts flew. Hanley had notified Porto Rico. The patrol-ship hadalmost enough time to get here by now. 

I felt Jetta plucking at me. She whispered:

"They have gone to attack the mine. "

"Yes. "

"I heard it planned. Señor Perona--"

Her hurried whispers told me further details of Perona's scheme. Sothis was a pseudo attack! Perona would take advantage of it and hidethe quicksilver. De Boer would return presently and escape. And holdme for ransom. I chuckled grimly. Not so easy for a bandit, even oneas clever as De Boer at hiding in the Lowland depths to arrange aransom for an agent of she United States. Our entire Lowland patrolwould be after him in a day. 

 * * * * *

Jetta's swift whispers made it all clear to me. It was Perona'sscheme. 

She ended, "And my father--" Her voice broke; her eyes floodedsuddenly with tears "Oh, Philip, he was good to me, my poor father. "

I saw that the mirror before Hans was glowing with its coming image. Ipressed Jetta's hand. 

"Yes, Jetta. "

One does not disparage the dead. I could not exactly subscribe toJetta's appraisal of her parent, but I did not say so. 

"Jetta, the mirror is on. "

I turned away from her toward the instrument table. Gutierrez at thedoor raised his weapon. I said hastily, "Nothing. I--we just want tosee the mirror. "

I stood beside Hans. He glanced at me and I tried to smileingratiatingly. 

"This attack will be successful, eh, Hans?"

"Damn. I hope so. "

The mirror was glowing. Hans turned a switch to dim the tube-lights ofthe room so that we might see the images better. It brought a protestfrom Gutierrez. 

I swung around. "I'm not a fool! You can see me perfectly well: killme if I make trouble. I want to see the attack. "

"_Por Dios_, if you try anything--"

"I won't!"

"Shut!" growled Hans. "The audiphone is on. The big adventure--and thecommander--leaves me here just to watch!"

 * * * * *

A slit in the observatory pane was open. The dark figure of one of thebandits on guard outside came and called softly up to us. 

"Started. Hans?"

"Starting. "

"Should it go wrong, call out. "

"Yes. But it will not. "

"There was an alarm, relayed probably to Great New York, the commandersaid, from Spawn's garden. These cursed prisoners--"

"Shut! You keep watch out there. It is starting. "

The guard slunk away. My attention went back to the mirror. An imagewas formed there now, coming from the eye of the lens upon De Boer'sforehead. It swayed with his walking. He was evidently leading hismen, for none of them were in the scene. The dark rocks were movingpast. The lights of the mine were ahead and below, but coming nearer. 

The audiphone hummed and crackled. And through it, De Boer'slow-voiced command sounded:

"To the left Is the better path. Keep working to the left. "

The image of the rocks and the mine swung with a dizzying sweep as DeBoer turned about. Then again he was creeping forward. 

The mine lights came closer. De Beer's whispered voice said: "Therethey are!"

 * * * * *

I could see the lights of the mine's guards flash on. A group ofSpawn's men gathered before the smelter building. The challengesounded. 

"Who are you? Stop!"

And De Boer's murmur: "That is correct, as Perona said. They expectus. Well, " he ended with a sardonic laugh, "expect us. "

His projector went up. He fired. In the silence of the control room wecould hear the audiphoned hiss of it, and see the flash in themirror-scene. He had fired into the air. 

Again his low voice to his men: "Hold steady. They will run. "

The group of figures at the smelter separated, waved and scatteredback into the deeper shadows. Their hand-lights were extinguished, butthe moonlight caught and showed them. They were running away; hidingin the crags. They fired a shot or two, high in the air. 

De Boer was advancing swiftly now. The image swayed and shifted, raised and lowered rhythmically as he ran. And the dark shape of thesmelter building loomed large as he neared it. 

I felt Jetta beside me: heard her whisper: "Why, he should attack andthen come back! Greko told my father--"

But De Boer was not coming back! He was dashing for the smelterentrance. Spawn's guards must have known then that there was somethingwrong. Their shots hissed, still fired high, and our grid soundedtheir startled shouts. Then as De Boer momentarily turned his head, Isaw what was taking place to the side of him. A detachment of thebandits had followed the retreating guards. The bandits' shots werelevelled now. Dim stabs of light in the gloom. One of the guardsscreamed as he was struck. 

 * * * * *

The attack was real! But it was over in a moment. Spawn's men, thosewho were not struck down, plunged away and vanished. Perona haddisconnected the mine's electrical safeguards. The smelter door wassealed, but it gave before the blows of a metal bar two of De Boer'smen were carrying. 

In the unguarded, open strong-room, Perona, alone, was absorbed in histask of carrying the ingots of quicksilver down into the hiddencompartment beneath its metal floor. 

Our mirror was vague and dim now with a moving interior of the mainsmelter room as De Boer plunged through. At the strong-room entrancehe paused, with his men crowding behind him. The figure of Peronashowed in the vague light: he was stooping under the weight of one ofthe little ingots. Beside him yawned the small trap-opening leadingdownward. 

He saw De Boer. He straightened, startled, and then shouted with aterrified Spanish oath. De Boer's projector was levelled: the huge, foreshortened muzzle of it blotted out half our image. It hissed itspuff of light--a blinding flash on our mirror--in the midst of whichthe dark shape of Perona's body showed as it crumpled and fell. LikeSpawn, he met instant death. 

Jetta was gripping me. "Why--" Gutierrez was with us. Hans wasbending forward, watching the mirror. He muttered, "Got him!"

I saw a chance to escape, and pulled at Jetta. But at once Gutierrezstepped backward. 

"Like him I will strike you dead!" he said. 

 * * * * *

No chance of escape. I had thought Gutierrez absorbed by the mirror, but he was not. I protested vehemently:

"I haven't moved, you fool. I have no intention of moving. "

And now De Boer and his men were carrying up the ingots. A man foreach bar. A confusion of blurred swaying shapes, and low-voiced, triumphant murmurs from our disc. 

Then De Boer was outside the smelter house, and we saw a little queueof the bandits carrying the treasure up the defile. Coming back hereto the flyer. There was no pursuit; the mine guards were gone. 

The triumphant bandits would be here in a few moments. 

"_Ave Maria, que magnifico!_" Gutierrez had retreated to our doorway, more alert than ever upon me and Jetta. Hans called through thewindow-slit:

"All is well, Franks!"

"Got it?"

"Yes! Make ready. "

There was a stir outside as several of the bandits hastened down thedefile to meet De Boer. And the tread of others, inside the flyer attheir posts, preparing for hasty departure. 

Hans snapped off the audiphone and mirror. He bent over his controlpanel. "All is well, Gutierrez. In a moment we start. "

Through the observatory window I saw the line of De Boer's men coming:Abruptly Hans gave a cry. "Look!"

 * * * * *

A glow was in the room. A faint aura of light. And our disconnectedinstruments were crackling, murmuring with interference. Eavesdroppingwaves were here! Hans realised it: so did I. 

But there was no need for theory. From outside came shouts. 

"Patrol-ship!"

"Hurry!"

The ship, suddenly exposing its lights, was perfectly visible aboveus. Five thousand feet up, possibly. A tiny silver bird in themoonlight: but even with the naked eye I could see by its lightpattern that it was the official Porto Rican patrol-liner. It saw usdown here: recognized this bandit flyer, no doubt. 

And it was coming down!

There was a confusion as the bandits rushed aboard. The patrol wasdropping in a swift spiral. I watched tensely, holding Jetta, with theturmoil of the embarking bandits around me. Gutierrez stood withlevelled weapon. 

"They have not moved, Commander. "

De Boer was here. The treasure was aboard. 

"Ready, Hans. Lift us. "

The landing portes clanged as they closed. Hans shoved at hisswitches. I heard the helicopter engines thumping. A vertical lift:there was no space in this rocky defile for any horizontal take-away. 

He was very calm, this De Boer. He sat in a chair at a control-bank ofinstruments unfamiliar to me. 

"Full power, Hans: I tell you. Lift us!"

 * * * * *

The ship was quivering. We lifted. The rocks of the gully droppedaway. But the patrol-ship was directly over us. Was De Boer rushinginto a collision?

"Now, forward, Hans. "

We poised for the level flight. Did De Boer think he couldout-distance this patrol-ship, the swiftest type of flyer in theService? I knew that was impossible. 

The silver ship overhead was circling, watchful. And as we levelledfor forward flight it shot a warning searchlight beam down across ourbow, ordering us to land. 

De Boer laughed. "They think they have us!"

I saw his hand go to a switch. A warning siren resounded through ourcorridor, warning the bandits of De Boer's next move. But I did notknow it then: the thing caught me unprepared. 

De Boer flung another switch. My senses reeled. I heard Jetta cry out. My arm about her tightened. 

A moment of strange whirling unreality. The control room seemed fadingabout me. The tube-lights dimmed. A green glow took their place--alurid sheen in which the cubby and the tense faces of De Boer and Hansshowed with ghastly pallor. Everything was unreal. The voices of DeBoer and Hans sounded with a strange tonelessness. Stripped of thetimber that made one differ from the other. Hollow ghosts of humanvoices. By the sound I could not tell which was De Boer and which wasHans. 

The corridor was dark; all the lights on the ship faded into thishorrible dead green. The window beside me had a film on it. A dead, dark opening where moonlight had been. Then I realized that I wasbeginning to see through it once more. Starlight. Then the moonlight. 

We had soared almost level with the descending patrol-ship. We wentpast it, a quarter of a mile away. Went past, and it did not follow. It was still circling. 

 * * * * *

I knew then what had happened. And why this bandit ship had seemed ofso strange an aspect. We were invisible! At four hundred yards, evenin the moonlight, the patrol could not distinguish us. Only ten ofthese X-flyers were in existence: they were the closest secret of theU. S. Anti-War Department. No other government had them except inimpractical imitations. I had never even seen one before. 

But this bandit ship was one. And I recalled that a year ago, asuppressed dispatch intimated that the Service had lost one--wreckedin the Lowlands and never found. 

So this was that lost invisible flyer? De Boer, using it forsmuggling, with Perona and Spawn as partners. And now, De Boer makingaway in it with Spawn's treasure!

The bandit's hollow, toneless, unreal chuckle sounded in the gruesomelurid green of the control room. 

"I think that surprised them!"

The tiny silver shape of the baffled local patrol-ship faded behind usas we flew northward over heavy, fantastic crags; far above the tinytwinkling lights of the village of Nareda--out over the sullen darksurface of the Nares Sea. 

CHAPTER XIII

_The Flight to the Bandit Stronghold_

During this flight of some six hours--north, and then, I think, northeast--to the remote Lowland fastness where De Boer's base waslocated, I had no opportunity to learn much of the operation of thisinvisible flyer. But it was the one which had been lost. Wrecked, nodoubt, and the small crew aboard it all killed. The vessel, however, was not greatly damaged: the crew were killed doubtless by escapingpoisonous gases when the flyer struck. 

How long it lay unfound, I cannot say. Perhaps, for days, it stillmaintained its invisibility, while the frantic planes of the U. S. Anti-War Department tried in vain to locate it. And then, with itsmagnetic batteries exhausting themselves, it must have become visible. Perona, making a solo flight upon Nareda business to Great London, came upon it. Perona, Spawn and De Boer were then in the midst oftheir smuggling activities. They salvaged the vessel secretly. DeBoer, with an incongruous flair for mechanical science, was enabled inhis bandit camp, to recondition the flyer--building a workshop for thepurpose, with money which Perona freely supplied. 

Some of this I learned from De Boer, some is surmise: but I am sure itis close to the facts. 

 * * * * *

I have since had an opportunity--through my connection with thisadventure which I am recording--of going aboard one of the X-flyers ofthe Anti-War Department, and seeing it in operation with its technicaldetails explained to me. But since it is so important a Governmentsecret, I cannot set it down here. The principles involved arecomplex: the postulates employed, and the mathematical formulaedeveloping them in theory, are far too intricate for my understanding. Yet the practical workings are simple indeed. Some of them wereunderstood as far back as 1920 and '30, when that pioneer of modernastrophysics, Albert Einstein, first proved that a ray of light isdeflected from its normal straight path when passing through amagnetic field. 

I am sorry that I cannot give here more than this vague hint of theworkings of the fantastic invisible flyers which to-day are so oftenthe subject of speculation by the general public which never has seenthem, and perhaps never will. But I think, too, that a lengthypedantic discourse here would be out of place. And tiring. After all, I am trying to tell only what happened to me in this adventure. And tolittle Jetta. 

A very strangely capable fellow, this young De Boer. A modern pirate:no other age could have produced him. He did not spare Perona's money, that was obvious. From his hidden camp he must have made frequentvisits to the great Highland centers, purchasing scientific equipment:until now, when his path crossed mine. I found him surrounded by mostof the every-day devices of our modern world. The village of Naredawas primitive: backward. Save for its modern lights, a few localaudiphones and image-finders, and its official etheric connectionswith other world capitals, it might have been a primitive LatinAmerican village of a hundred years ago. 

 * * * * *

But not so De Boer's camp, which presently I was to see. Nor this, hisflyer, with which his smuggling activities had puzzled Hanley's Officefor so many months. There was nothing primitive here. 

De Boer himself was a swaggering villain. I saw him now with his cloakdiscarded, in the normal tube-lights of the control room when, after atime, the mechanism of invisibility of the flyer was shut off. Afellow of six feet and a half at the very least, this De Boer. Heavy, yet with his great height and strength, lean and graceful. He wore afabric shirt, with a wide-rolled collar. A wide belt of tanned hide, with lighters, a little electron drink-cooler and other nick-nackerieshanging from tasseled cords--and a naked, ugly-looking knife bladeclipped beside a holster which held an old-fashioned explodingprojector of leaden steel-tipped bullets. 

His trousers were of leather, wide-flaring, ending at his brawny bareknees, with wide-cut, limp leather boots flapping about his calves inancient piratical fashion. They had flaring soles, these shoes, forwalking upon the Lowland caked ooze. The uppers were useless: I ratherthink he wore them because they were picturesque. He was a handsomefellow, with rough-hewn features. A wide mouth, and very white, eventeeth. A cruel mouth, when it went grim. But the smile was intriguing:I should think particularly so to women. 

He had a way with him, this devil-may-care bandit. Strange mixture ofa pirate of old and an outlaw of our modern world. With a sash at hiswaist, a red handkerchief about his forehead, and a bloody knifebetween his teeth. I could have fancied him a fabled pirate of theSpanish Main. A few hundred years ago when these dry Lowlands held thetossing seas. But I had seen him, so far, largely seated quietly inhis chair at his instrument table, a cigarette dangling from his lips, and, instead of a red bandanna about his forehead, merely the elasticband holding the lens of his image-finder. It caught in the locks ofhis curly black hair. He pushed it askew; and then, since he did notneed it now, discarded it altogether. 

 * * * * *

Where we went I could not surmise, except that we flew low over thesullen black waters of the Nares Sea and then headed northeast. Wekept well below the zero-height, with the dark crags of the Lowlandspassing under us. 

The night grew darker. Storm clouds obscured the moon; and it was thenthat De Boer shut off the mechanism of invisibility. The control room, with only the watchful Gutierrez now in it--besides De Boer, Jetta andmyself--was silent and orderly. But there were sounds of roisteringfrom down the ship's corridor. The bandits, with this treasure of theradiumized quicksilver ingots aboard, were already triumphantlycelebrating. 

I sat whispering with Jetta. De Boer, busy with charts andnavigational instruments, ignored us, and Gutierrez, so long as we didnot move, seemed not to object to our whispers. 

The night slowly passed. De Boer served us food, calling to one of hismen to shove a slide before us. For himself, he merely drank hiscoffee and an alcoholic drink at his instrument table, while absorbedin his charts. 

The roistering of the men grew louder. De Boer leaped to his feet, cursed them roundly, then went back to his calculations. He stood oncebefore Jetta, regarding her with a strange, slow smile which made myheart pound. But he turned away in a moment. 

The bandits, for all De Boer's admonitions, were now ill-conditionedfor handling this flyer. But I saw, through the small grid-opening inthe control room ceiling, the pilot in his cubby upon the wing-top. He sat alert and efficient, with his lookout beside him. 

 * * * * *

The night presently turned really tumultuous, with a great windoverhead, and storm clouds of ink, shot through occasionally bylightning flashes. We flew lower, at minus 2, 000 feet, on the average. The heavy air was sultry down here, with only a dim blurred vista ofthe depths beneath us. I fancied that now we were bending eastward, out over the great basin pit of the mid-Atlantic area. No vesselspassed us, or, if they did, I did not sight them. 

De Boer had a detector on his table. Occasionally it would buzz withcalls: liners or patrols in our general neighborhood. He ignored themwith a sardonic smile. Once or twice, when our dim lights might havebeen sighted, he altered our course sharply. And, when at one periodwe passed over the lights of some Lowland settlement, he flung usagain into invisibility until we were beyond range. 

I had, during these hours, ample opportunity to whisper with Jetta. But there was so little for us to say. I knew all of Spawn's andPerona's plot. Both were dead: it was De Boer with whom we weremenaced now. And as I saw his huge figure lounging at his table, andhis frowning, intent face, the vision of the aged, futile Perona, whohad previously been my adversary, seemed inoffensive indeed. 

De Boer obviously was pleased with himself. He had stolen half amillion dollars of treasure, and was making off with it to his base inthe depths. He would smuggle these ingots into the world markets athis convenience; months from now, probably. Meanwhile, what did heintend to do with me? And Jetta? Ransom me? I wondered how he couldmanage it. And the thought pounded me. What about Jetta? I felt nowthat she was all the world to me. Her safety, beyond any thought ofsmugglers or treasure, was all that concerned me. But what was Igoing to do about it?

 * * * * *

I pressed her hand. "Jetta, you're not too frightened, are you?"

"No, Philip. "

Her mind, I think, was constantly on her father, lying dead back thereon his garden path. I had not spoken of him, save once. She threatenedinstant tears, and I stopped. 

"Do not be too frightened. We'll get out of this. "

"Yes. "

"He can't escape. Jetta; he can't hide. Why, in a day or so all thepatrols of the United States Lowland Service will be after us!"

But if the patrol-ships assailed De Boer, if he found things goingbadly--he could so easily kill Jetta and me. He might be caught, butwe would never come through it alive. 

My thoughts drifted along, arriving nowhere, just circling in the samefutile rounds. I was aware of Jetta falling asleep beside me, her faceagainst my shoulder, her fingers clutching mine. She looked like ahalf grown, slender, ragged boy. But her woman's hair lay thick on myarm, and one of the dark tresses fell to my hand. I turned my fingersin it. This strange little woman. Was my love for her foredoomed toend in tragedy? I swore then that I would not let it be so. 

CHAPTER XIV

_Jetta Takes a Hand_

I came from my reverie to find De Boer before me. He was standing withlegs planted wide, arms folded across his deep chest, and on his facean ironic smile. 

"So tired! My little captives, _di mi_! You look like babes lost in awood. "

I disengaged myself from Jetta, resting her against a cushion, and shedid not awaken. I stood up, fronting De Boer. 

"What are you going to do with me?" I demanded. 

He held his ironic smile. "Take you to my camp. You'll be well hidden, no one can follow me. My X-flyer's a very handy thing to have, isn'tit?"

"So you're the smuggler I was sent after?"

That really amused him. "Er--yes. Those tricksters, Perona andSpawn--we were what you would call partners. He had--the perfumedPerona--what he thought was a clever scheme for us. I was to take allthe risk, and he and Spawn get most of the money. Chah! They thought Iwas imbecile--pretending to attack a treasure and being such a foolthat I would not seize it for myself! Not De Boer!" He chuckled. "Well, so very little did they know me. No treasure yet touched DeBoer's fingers without lingering!"

 * * * * *

He was in a talkative mood, and drew up his chair and slouched in it. I saw that he had been drinking some alcholite beverage, not enough tobefuddle him, but enough to take the keen edge off his wits, and makehim want to talk. 

"Sit down, Grant. "

"I'll stand. "

"As you like. "

"What are you going to do with me?" I demanded again. "Try to ransomme for a fat price from the United States?"

He smiled sourly. "You need not be sarcastic, young lad. The betterfor you if I get a ransom. "

"Then I hope you get it. "

"Perona's idea, " he added. "I will admit it looked possible: I did notknow then you had Government protection. " He went grim. "That wasPerona and Spawn's trickery. Well, they paid for it. No one plays DeBoer false and lives to tell it. Perona and Spawn wanted to get rid ofyou--because you annoyed them. "

"Did I?"

"With the little Jetta, I fancy. " His gaze went to the sleeping Jettaand back to me. "Perona was very sensitive where this little woman wasconcerned. Why not? An oldish fool like him--"

 * * * * *

I could agree with that, but I did not say so. 

I said, "You'd better cast me loose, Jetta and me. I suppose yourealize, De Boer, that you'll have the patrols like a pack of houndsafter you. Jetta is a Nareda citizen: the United States will take thatup. There's the theft of the treasure. And as you say, I'm aGovernment agent. "

He nodded. "Your Government is over-zealous in protecting its agents. That I know, Grant. I might have left you alone, there in the garden, when I realized it. But that, by damn, was too late! Live men talk. Any way, if I cannot ransom you, to kill you is very easy. And deadmen are shut-mouthed. "

"I'm still alive, De Boer. "

He eyed me. "You talk brave. "

This condescending, amused giant!

I retorted. "How are you going to ransom me?"

"That, " he said. "I have not yet planned it. A delicate business. "

I ventured, "And Jetta?" My heart was beating fast. 

"Jetta, " he said with a sudden snap, "is none of your business. "

Again his gaze went toward her. "I might marry her: why not? I am notwholly a villain. I could marry her legally in Cape Town, with all thetrappings of clergy--and be immune from capture under the laws there. If she is seventeen. I have forgotten her age, it's been so long sinceI knew her. Is she seventeen? She does not look it. "

I said shortly. "I don't know how old she is. "

"But we can ask her when she awakens, can't we?"

 * * * * *

He was amusing himself with me. And yet, looking back on it now, Ibelieve he was more than half serious. From his pouch he drew a smallcylinder. "Have a drink, Grant. After all I bear you no ill-will. Aman can but follow his trade: you were trying to be a good Governmentagent. "

"Thanks. "

"And then you may make it possible for me to pick a nice ransom. Here. "

"I hope so. " I declined the drink. 

"Afraid for your wits?"

I said impulsively, "I want all my wits to make sure you handle thisransom properly, De Boer. I'm as interested as you are: in that atleast, we are together. "

He grinned, tipped the cylinder at his lips for a long drink. 

"Quite so--a mutual interest. Let us be friends over it. "

His gaze wandered back to Jetta. He added slowly:

"She is very lovely, Grant. A little woodland flower, just ready forplucking. " A sentimental tone, but there was in his expression aribald flippancy that sent a shudder through me. "She has quiteovercome you, Grant. Well, why not me as well? I am certainly more ofa man than you. We must admit that Perona had a good eye. "

 * * * * *

My thoughts were wandering. Suppose I could not find an opportunity toescape with Jetta? De Boer might successfully ransom me and take herto Cape Town. Or if he feared that to try for the ransom would be toodangerous, doubtless he would kill me out of hand. An ill outcomeindeed! Nor could I forget that there was half a million of treasureinvolved. 

It was obvious to me that Hanley would not permit the patrol-ships toattack De Boer with the lives of Jetta and myself at stake. Hanleyknew, or suspected, that De Boer was operating an invisible flyer, butI did not see how that could help Hanley much. Markes, acting forNareda, would doubtless be willing to ransom Jetta: the United Stateswould ransom me. I must urge the ransom plan, because for all themoney in the world I would not endanger Jetta, nor let this banditcarry her off. 

Or could I escape with her, and still find some means to save thetreasure? It was Jetta's treasure now, two-thirds of it, for it hadlegally belonged to her father. Could I save it, and her as well?

Not by any move of mine, here now on this flyer. That was impossible. In De Boer's camp, perhaps. But that, too, I doubted. He was tooclever a scoundrel to be lax in guarding me. 

But in the effecting of a ransom--the exchange of me, and perhapsJetta, for a sum of money--that would be a delicate transaction, andsome little thing could easily go wrong for De Boer. There would be mychance. I would have to make something go wrong! Get in his confidencenow so that I would have some say in arranging the details of theransom. Make him think I was only concerned for my own safety. Appearclever in helping plan the exchange. And then so manipulate the thingthat I could escape with Jetta and save the treasure--and the ransommoney as well. And capture De Boer, since that was what Hanley hadsent me out to accomplish. 

 * * * * *

Thoughts fly swiftly. All this flashed to me. I had no details as yet. But that I must get into De Boer's confidence stood but clearly. 

I said abruptly, "De Boer, since we are to be friends--"

"So you prefer to sit down now?"

"Yes. " I had drawn a small settle to face him. "De Boer, do you intendto ask a ransom for Jetta?"

"You insist with that question?"

"That is my way. Then we can understand each other. Do you?"

"No, " he said shortly. 

I frowned. "I think I could get you a big price. "

"I think I should prefer the little Jetta, Grant. "

I held myself outwardly unmoved. "I don't blame you. But you willransom me? It can be worked out. I have some ideas. "

"Yes, " he agreed. "It can be worked perhaps. I have not thought ofdetails yet. You are much concerned for your safety, Grant? Fear not. "

An amused thought evidently struck him. He added. "It occurs to me howeasy, if I am going to ransom you, it will be for me to send you backdead. You might, if I send you back alive, tell them a lot of thingsabout me. "

"I will not talk. "

"Not, " he said, "if I close your mouth for good. "

 * * * * *

I had no retort. There was no answering such logic; and with hismurders of Spawn and Perona, and the deaths of some of the policeguards at the mine, the murder of me would not put him in much worse aposition. 

He was laughing ironically. Suddenly he checked himself. 

"Well, Jetta! So you have awakened?"

Jetta was sitting erect. How long she had been awake, what she hadheard. I could not say. Her gaze went from De Boer to me, and backagain. 

"Yes, I am awake. "

It seemed that the look she flashed me carried a warning. But whateverit was, I had no chance of pondering it, for it was driven from mymind by surprise at her next words. 

"Awake, yes! And interested, hearing this Grant bargain with you forhis life. "

It surprised De Boer as well. But the alcholite had dulled his wits, and Jetta realized this, and presumed upon it. 

"Ho!" exclaimed De Boer. "Our little bird is angry!"

"Not angry. It is contempt. "

Her look to me now held contempt. It froze me with startled chagrin;but only for an instant, and then the truth swept me. Strange Jetta! Ihad thought of her only as a child; almost, but not quite a woman. Afrightened little woodland fawn. 

"Contempt, De Boer. Is he not a contemptuous fellow, this American?"

Again I caught her look and understood it. This was a differentJetta. No longer helplessly frightened, but a woman, fighting. She hadheard De Boer calmly saying that he might send me back dead--and shewas fighting now for me. 

De Boer took another drink, and stared at her. "What is this?"

She turned away. "Nothing. But if you are going to ransom me--"

"I am not, little bird. "

 * * * * *

She showed no aversion for him, and it went to his head, stronger thanthe drink. "Never would I ransom you!"

He reached for her, but nimbly she avoided him. Acting, but cleverenough not to overdo it. I held myself silent: I had caught again theflash of a warning gaze from her. She had fathomed my purpose. Get hisconfidence. Beguile him. And woman is so much cleverer than thetrickiest man at beguiling!

"Do not touch me, De Boer! He tried that. He held my hand in themoonlight--to woo me with his clever words. "

"Hah! Grant, you hear her?"

"And I find him now not a man, but a craven--"

"But you will find me a man, Jetta. " De Boer was hugely amused. "SeeGrant, we are rivals! You and Perona, then you and me. It is well foryou that I fear you not, or I would run my knife through you now. "

I could not mistake Jetta's shudder. But De Boer did not see it, forshe covered it by impulsively putting her hand upon his arm. 

"Did you--did you kill my father?" She stumbled over the question. Butshe asked it with a childlike innocence sufficiently real to convincehim. 

"I? Why--" He recovered from his surprise. "Why no, little bird. Whotold you that I did?"

"No one. I--no one has said anything about it. " She added slowly, "Ihoped that it was not you, De Boer. "

"Me? Oh no: it was an accident. " He shot me a menacing glance. "I willexplain it all. Jetta. Your father and I were friends for years--"

"Yes. I know. Often he spoke to me of you. Many times I asked him tolet me meet you. "

 * * * * *

They were ignoring me. But Gutierrez, lurking in the door oval, wasnot: I was well aware of that. 

"I remember you from years ago, little Jetta. "

"And I remember you. "

I understand the rationality of her purpose. She could easily get DeBeer's confidence. She had known him when a child. Her father had beenhis business partner, presumably his friend. And I saw her nowcleverly altering her status here. She had been a captive, allied withme. She was changing that. She was now Spawn's daughter, here with herdead father's friend. 

She turned a gaze of calm aversion upon me. "Unless you want him here, De Boer. I would rather talk to you--without him. "

He leaped to his feet. "Hah! that pleases me, little Jetta! Gutierrez, take this fellow away. "

The Spanish-American came slouching forward. "The girl's an oldfriend, Commander? You never told me that. "

"Because it is no business of yours. Take him away. Seal him inD-cubby. "

I said sullenly. "I misjudged both of you. "

Jetta's gaze avoided me. As Gutierrez shoved me roughly down thecorridor, De Boer laughed, and his voice came back: "Do not be afraid. We will find some safe way of ransoming you--dead or alive!"

I was flung on a bunk in one of the corridor cubbies, and the doorsealed upon me. 

(_To be continued. _)

An Extra Man

_By Jackson Gee_

[Illustration: "Harry turns into a thick smoke, and gets sucked into abig hole in the machine. "]

[Sidenote: Sealed and vigilantly guarded was "Drayle's Invention, 1932"----for it was a scientific achievement beyond which man darednot go. ]

Rays of the August mid-day sun pouring through the museum's glass roofbeat upon the eight soldiers surrounding the central exhibit, whichfor thirty years has been under constant guard. Even the presentsweltering heat failed to lessen the men's careful observation of thevisitors who, from time to time, strolled listlessly about the room. 

The object of all this solicitude scarcely seemed to require it. Agreat up-ended rectangle of polished steel some six feet square by tenor a dozen feet in height, standing in the center of Machinery Hall, it suggested nothing sinister or priceless. Two peculiarities, however, marked it as unusual--the concealment of its mechanism andthe brevity of its title. For while the remainder of the exhibitslocated around it varied in the simplicity or complexity of theirdesign, they were alike in the openness of their construction anddetailed explanation of plan and purpose. The great steel box, however, bore merely two words and a date: "Drayle's Invention, 1932. "

It was, nevertheless, toward this exhibit that a pleasant appearingwhite-haired old gentleman and a small boy were slowly walking when achange of guard occurred. The new men took their posts without wordswhile the relieved detail turned down a long corridor that for amoment echoed with the clatter of hobnailed boots on stone. Then allwas surprisingly still. Even the boy was impressed into reluctantsilence as he viewed the uniformed men, though not for long. 

 * * * * *

"What's that, what's that, what's that?" he demanded presently withshrill imperiousness. "Grandfather, what's that?" An excited armindicated the exhibit with its soldier guard. 

"If you can keep still long enough, " replied the old gentlemanpatiently, "I'll tell you. "

And with due regard for rheumatic limbs he slowly settled himself on abench and folded his hands over the top of an ebony cane preparatoryto answering the youngster's question. His inquisitor, however, was, at the moment, being hauled from beneath a brass railing by thesergeant of the watch. 

"You'll have to keep an eye on him, sir, " said the man reproachfully. "He was going to try his knife on the wood-work when I caught him. "

"Thank you, Sergeant. I'll do my best--but the younger generation, youknow. "

"Sit still, if possible!" he directed the squirming boy. "If not, we'll start home now. "

The non-com took a new post within easy reaching distance of thedisturber and attempted to glare impressively. 

"Go on, grandfather, tell me. What's D-r-a-y-l-e? What's in the box?Can't they open it? What are the soldiers for? Must they stay here?Why?"

"Drayle, " said the old man, breaking through the barrage of questions, "was a close friend of mine a good many years ago. "

"How many, grandfather? Fifty? As much as fifty? Did father know him?Is father fifty?"

"Forty; no; yes; no, " said the harassed relative; and then withamazing ignorance inquired: "Do you really care to hear or do you justask questions to exercise your tongue?"

"I want to hear the story, grandpa. Tell me the story. Is it a nicestory? Has it got bears in it? Polar bears? I saw a polar bearyesterday. He was white. Are polar bears always white? Tell me thestory, grandpa. "

 * * * * *

The old man turned appealing eyes toward the sergeant. Tacitly asympathetic understanding was established. The warrior also was afather, and off the field of battle he had known defeat. 

"Leave me handle him, sir, " he suggested. "I've the like of him athome. "

"I'd be very much indebted to you if you would. "

Thus encouraged, the soldier produced from an inner pocket and offeredone of those childhood sweets known as an "all day sucker. "

"See if you can choke yourself on that, " he challenged. 

The clamor ceased immediately. 

"It always works, sir, " explained the man of resource. "The missussays as how it'll ruin their indigestions, but I'm all for peace evenif I am in the army. "

Now that his vocal organs were temporarily plugged, the child waved ademanding arm in the direction of the main exhibit to indicate adesire for the resumption of the narrative. But the ancient was notanxious to disturb so soon the benign and acceptable silence. In factit was not until he observed the sergeant's look of inquiry that hebegan once more. 

"That box, " he said slowly, "is both a monument and a milestone on theroad to mankind's progress in mechanical invention. It marks the pointbeyond which Drayle's contemporaries believed it was unsafe to go: forthey felt that inventions such as his would add to the complexitiesof life, and that if a halt were not made our own machines wouldultimately destroy us. 

"I did not, still do not, believe it. And I know Drayle's spirit brokewhen the authorities sealed his last work in that box and released himupon parole to abandon his experiments. "

As the speaker sighed in regretful reminiscence, the sergeant glancedat his men. Apparently all was well: the only visible menace lolledwithin easy arm's reach, swinging his short legs and sucking noisilyon his candy. Nevertheless the non-com shifted to a slightly bettertactical position as he awaited the continuance of the tale. 

 * * * * *

"Christopher Drayle, " said the elderly gentleman, "was the greatestman I have ever known, as well as the finest. Forty years or more agowe were close friends. Our homes on Long Island adjoined and I handledmost of his legal affairs. He was about forty-five or six then, butalready famous. 

"His rediscovery of the ancient process of tempering copper had madehim one of the wealthiest men in the land and enabled him to devotehis time to scientific research. Electricity and chemistry were hisspecialties, and at the period of which I speak he was deeplyengrossed in problems of radio transmission. 

"But he had many interests and not infrequently visited our localcountry club for an afternoon of golf. Sometimes I played around thecourse with him and afterward, over a drink, we would talk. Hisfavorite topic was the contribution of science to human welfare. Andeven though I could not always follow him when he grew enthusiasticabout some new theory I was always puzzled. 

"It was at such a time, when we had been discussing the new and firstsuccessful attempt to send moving pictures by radio, that I mentionedthe prophecy of Jackson Gee. Gee was the writer of fantastic, pseudo-scientific tales who had said: 'We shall soon be able toresolve human beings into their constituent elements, transmit them byradio to any desired point and reassemble them at the other end. Weshall do this by means of vibrations. We are just beginning to learnthat vibrations are the key to the fundamental process of all life. '

 * * * * *

"I laughed as I quoted this to Drayle, for it seemed to me the ravingsof a lunatic. But Drayle did not smile. 'Jackson Gee, ' he said, 'isnearer to the truth than he imagines. We already know the elementsthat make the human body, and we can put them together in their properproportions and arrangements: but we have not been able to introducethe vitalizing spark, the key vibrations to start it going. We canreproduce the human machine, but we can not make it move. We candestroy life in the laboratory, and we can prolong it, but so far wehave not been able to create it. Yet I tell you in all seriousnessthat that time will come; that time will come. '

"I was surprised at his earnestness and would have questioned himfurther. But a boy appeared just then with a message that Drayle waswanted at the telephone. 

"Something important, sir, " he said. Drayle went off to answer thesummons and later he sent word that he had been called away and wouldnot be able to return. 

"It was the last I heard from Drayle for months. He shut himself inhis laboratory and saw no one but his assistants, Ward of Boston, andBuchannon of Washington. He even slept in the workshop and had hisfood sent in. 

"Ordinarily I would not have been excluded, for I had his confidenceto an unusual degree and I had often watched him work. I admired thedeft movements of his hands. He had the certain touch and style of amaster. But during that period he admitted only his aids. 

 * * * * *

"Consequently I felt little hope of reaching him one morning when itwas necessary to have his signature to some legal documents. Yet theurgency of the case led me to go to his home on the chance that Imight be able to get him long enough for the business that concernedus. Luck was with me, for he sent out word that he would see me in afew minutes. I remember seating myself in the office that opened offhis laboratory and wondering what was beyond the door that separatedus. I had witnessed some incredible performances in the adjoiningroom. 

"At last Drayle came in. He looked worried and careworn. There werenew lines in his face and blue half-circles of fatigue beneath hiseyes. It was evident that it was long since he had slept. Heapologized for having kept me waiting and then, without examining thepapers I offered, he signed his name nervously in the proper spaces. When I gathered the sheets together he turned abruptly toward thelaboratory, but at the door he paused and smiled. 

"'Give my respects to Jackson Gee, ' he said. "

 * * * * *

"Who's Jackson Gee? Does father know him? Has he any polar bears?Aren't you going to tell me about that?"

The tidal wave of questions almost overwhelmed the historian and hisauditor. But the military, fortunately, was equal to the emergency. With a tactical turn of his hand he thrust the remnant of the lollypopbetween the chattering jaws and spoke with sharp rapidity. 

"Listen, " he commanded, "that there, what you got, is a magic candy, and if you go on exposing it to the air after it is once in your mouthit's likely to disappear, just like that. " And the speed of thetranslation was illustrated by a smart snapping of the fingers. 

Doubt shone in the juvenile terror's eyes and the earlier generationswaited fearfully while skepticism and greed waged their recurrentconflict. For a time it seemed as if the veteran had blundered; butfinally greed triumphed and a temporary peace ensued. 

"Where was I?" inquired the interrupted narrator when the issue ofbattle was settled. 

"You was talking about Jackson Gee, " answered the guardsman in acautiously low tone. 

"So I was, so I was, " the old gentleman agreed somewhat vaguely, nodding his head. He gazed at the sergeant with mingled awe andadmiration. "I suppose it's quite useless to mention it, " he saidrather wistfully, "but if you ever get out of the army and should wanta job. .. . You could name your own salary, you know?" The questionended on an appealing note. 

Evidently the soldier understood the digression, for he replied in atone that would brook no dispute. "No, sir, I couldn't consider it. "

"I was afraid so, " said the other regretfully, and added, withapparent irrelevance, "I have to live with him, you see. "

"Tough luck, " commiserated the listener. 

Reluctantly summoning his thoughts from the pleasant contemplation ofwhat had seemed to offer a new era of peace, the bard turned to hisstory. 

 * * * * *

"A few hours later, " he continued, "I had a telephone call fromDrayle's wife, and I realized from the fright in her voice thatsomething dreadful had happened. She asked me to come to the house atonce. Chris had been hurt. But she disconnected before I could ask fordetails. I started immediately and I wondered as I drove what disasterhad overtaken him. Anything, it seemed to me, might have befallen inthat room of miracles. But I was not prepared to find that Drayle hadbeen shot and wounded. 

"The police were before me and already questioning the assailant, Mrs. Farrel, a fiery tempered young Irish-woman. When I entered the roomshe was repeating half-hysterically her explanation that Drayle hadkilled her husband in the laboratory that morning. 

"'Right before my eyes, I seen it, ' she shouted. 'Harry was standingon a sort of platform looking at a big machine like, and so help me hedidn't have a stitch of clothes on, and I started to say something, but all at once there came a terrible sort of screech and a flash likelightnin' kinda, in front of him. Then Harry turns into a sort ofthick smoke and I can see right through him like he was a ghost; andthen the smoke gets sucked into a big hole in the machine and I knowHarry's dead. And here's this man what done it, just a standin' there, grinnin' horrid. So something comes over me all at once and I pointsHarry's gun at him and pulls the trigger!'

"Even before the woman had finished I recalled what I seen oneafternoon in Drayle's laboratory many months before. I had been therefor some time watching him when he placed a small tumbler on a worktable and asked me if I had ever seen glass shattered by thevibrations of a violin. I told him that I had, but he went through thedemonstration as if to satisfy himself. Of course when he drew a bowacross the instrument's strings and produced the proper pitch thegoblet cracked into pieces exactly as might have been expected. And Iwondered why Drayle concerned himself with so childish an experimentbefore I noticed that he appeared to have forgotten me completely. 

 * * * * *

"I endeavored then not to disturb him, and I remember trying to drawmyself out of his way and feeling that something momentous was aboutto take place. Yet actually I believe it would have required aconsiderable commotion to have distracted his attention, for hisability to concentrate was one of the characteristics of his genius. 

"I saw him place another glass on the table and I noticed then thatit stood directly in front of a complicated mechanism. At first thisgave out a low humming sound, but it soon rose to an unearthly whiningshriek. I shrank from it involuntarily and a second later I was amazedat the sight of the glass, seemingly reduced to a thin vapor, beingdrawn into a funnel-like opening near the top of the device. I was toostartled to speak and could only watch as Drayle started thecontrivance again. Once more its noise cut through me with physicalpain. I cried out. But my voice was overwhelmed by the terrific din ofthe mysterious machine. 

"Then Drayle strode down the long room to another intricate mass ofwire coils and plates and lamps. And I saw a dim glow appear in two ofthe bulbs and heard a noise like the crackling of paper. Drayle madesome adjustments, and presently I observed a peculiar shimmering ofthe air above a horizontal metal grid. It reminded me of heat wavesrising from a summer street, until I saw the vibrations were taking adefinite pattern; and that the pattern was that of the glass I hadseen dissolved into air. At first the image made me think of a pictureformed by a series of horizontal lines close together but broken atvarious points in such fashion as to create the appearance of a lineby the very continuity of the fractures. But as I watched, the plasmabecame substance. The air ceased to quiver and I was appalled to seeDrayle pick up the tumbler and carry it to a scale on which he weighedit with infinite exactness. If he had approached me with it at thatmoment I would have fled in terror. 

 * * * * *

"Next, Drayle filled the goblet with some liquid which immediatelyafterward he measured in a beaker. The result seemed to please him, for he smiled happily. At the same instant he became aware of mypresence. He looked surprised and then a trifle disconcerted. I couldsee that he was embarrassed by the knowledge that I had witnessed somuch, and after a second or two he asked my silence. I agreed atonce, not only because he requested it but because I couldn't believethe evidence myself. He let me out then and locked the door. 

"It was this recollection that made me credit the woman's story. But Iwas sick with dread, for in spite of my faith in Drayle's genius Ifeared he had gone mad. 

"Mrs. Drayle had listened to Mrs. Farrel's account calmly enough, butI could see the fear in her eyes when she signaled a wish to speak tome alone. I followed her into an adjoining room, leaving Mrs. Farrelwith the two policemen and the doctor, who was trying to quiet her. 

"As soon as the door closed after us Mrs. Drayle seized my hands. 

"'Tim, ' she whispered, 'I'm horribly afraid that what the woman saysis true. Chris has told me of some wonderful things he was planning todo, but I never expected he would experiment on human beings. Can theysend him to prison?'

"Of course I said what I could to comfort her and tried to make myvoice sound convincing. At the time the legal aspect of the matter didnot worry me so much as the fear that the attack on Drayle might provefatal. For even if it should develop that he was not dangerously hurt, I imagined that the interruption of the experiment at a criticalmoment might easily have ruined whatever slim chance there had been ofsuccess. For us the nerve-wracking part was that we could do nothinguntil the surgeon who was attending Drayle could tell us how badly hewas injured. 

 * * * * *

"At last word came that the bullet had only grazed Drayle's head andstunned him, but that he might remain unconscious for some time. Mrs. Drayle went in and sat at her husband's side, while I returned to thelaboratory and found the police greatly bewildered as to whether theyought to arrest Drayle. 

"They had discovered in a closet an outfit of men's clothing that Mrs. Farrel identified as her husband's, and, although they saw no othertrace of the missing man, they had a desire to lock up somebody as anevidence of their activity. It took considerable persuasion to prevailupon them to withhold their hands. There was no such difficulty aboutrestraining them in the laboratory. They were afraid to touch anyapparatus, and they gave the invention a ludicrously wide berth. 

"I never knew exactly how long it was that I paced about the lowerfloor of Drayle's home before the doctor summoned me and announcedthat the patient wanted me, but that I must be careful not to excitehim. I have often wondered how many physicians would have to abandontheir profession if they were deprived of that phrase. 'You must notexcite the patient. '

"Drayle was already excited when I entered. In fact, he was furious atthe doctor's efforts to restrain him. But I realized that my fear forhis reason was groundless. His remarks were lucid and forceful as heraged at the interference with his work. As soon as he saw me heappealed for assistance. 

"'Make them let me alone. Tim, ' he begged, as his wife and the doctor, partly by force and partly by persuasion, endeavored to hold him inbed. 'I must get back to the laboratory. That woman believes that I'vekilled her husband, and my assistant will think that we've failed. '

 * * * * *

"I was about to argue with him when suddenly he managed to thrust thedoctor aside and start toward the door. His seriousness impressed meso that I gave him a supporting arm and together we headed down thehall, with Mrs. Drayle and the doctor following anxiously in the rear. The laboratory was deserted and locked when we arrived. The policeevidently felt it was too uncanny an atmosphere for a prolonged wait. Drayle opened the door, went directly to his machine, and examined itminutely. 

"'Thank the Lord that woman hit only me!' he said, and sank into achair. Then he asked for some brandy. Mrs. Drayle rushed off andreappeared in a minute with a decanter and glass. Drayle helpedhimself to a swallow that brought color to his cheeks and new strengthto his limbs. Immediately after he turned again to the machine. Idragged up a chair, assisted him into it, and seated myself close by. 

"I knew little enough about mechanics, but I was fascinated by thenumerous gauges that faced me on the gleaming instrument board. Therewere dials with needlelike hands that registered various numbers;spots of color appeared in narrow slots close to a solar spectrum: astream of graph-paper tape flowed slowly beneath a tracing-pen pointand carried away a jiggly thin line of purple ink. In a moment Draylewas oblivious of everything but his records. I watched him copy theindicated figures, surround them with formulas, and solve mysteriousproblems with a slide-rule. 

"His calculations covered a large sheet before he had finished. Atlast he underscored three intricate combinations of letters andfigures and carried the answers to his private radio apparatus. Thisoperated on a wave length far outside the range of all others andinsured him against interference. With it he was able to speak at anytime with his assistants in Washington or Boston or with both at once. He threw the switch that sent his call into the air. An answer cameinstantly, and Drayle begin to talk to his distant lieutenants. 

 * * * * *

"'We've been interrupted, gentlemen, ' he said, 'but I think we maycontinue now. We'll reassemble in the Boston laboratory. Have youarranged the elements? The coefficients are. .. . ' And he gave asuccession of decimals. 

"A voice replied that all was ready. Drayle said 'Excellent, ' wentback to his invention and twisted a black knob on the board beforehim. 

"With this trifling movement all hell seemed to crash about us. Theghastly cacophony that I had experienced in the same room some monthspreviously was as nothing. These stupendous waves of sound pounded usuntil it seemed as if we must disintegrate beneath them. Wails andscreams engulfed us. Mrs. Drayle dropped to her knees beside herhusband. The doctor seized my arm and I saw the knuckles of his handturn white with the pressure of his grip, yet I felt nothing but theawful vibrations that drummed like riveting machines upon and throughmy nerves and body. It was not an attack upon the ears alone; itcrashed upon the heart, beat upon the chest so that breathing seemedimpossible. My brain throbbed under the terrific pulsations. For awhile I imagined the human system could not endure the ordeal and thatall of us must be annihilated. 

"Except for his slow turning of the dials Drayle was motionless beforethe machine. Below the bandage about his forehead I could see hisfeatures drawn with anxiety. He had wagered a human life to test histheory and I think the enormity of it had not struck him until thatmoment. 

"What I knew and hoped enabled me to imagine what was taking place inthe Boston laboratory. I seemed to see man's elementary dust andvapors whirled from great containers upward into a stratum ofshimmering air and gradually assume the outlines of a human form thatbecame first opaque, then solid, and then a sentient being. At thesame instant I was conscious that the appalling pandemonium had ceasedand that the voice of Drayle's Boston assistant was on the radio. 

 * * * * *

"'Congratulations, Chief! His reassemblage is perfect. There's not aflaw anywhere. ' "'Splendid, ' Drayle answered. 'Bring him here byplane right away; his wife is worried about him. '

"Then Drayle turned to me. 

"'You see, ' he said, 'Jackson Gee was right. We have resolved man intohis constituent elements, transmitted his key vibrations by radio, andreassembled him from a supply of identical elements at the other end. And now, if you will assure that woman that her husband is safe, Iwill get some sleep. You will have the proof before you in less thanthree hours. '

"I can't vouch for the doctor's feelings, but as Drayle left us I wassatisfied that everything was as it should be, and that I had justwitnessed the greatest scientific achievement of all time. I did notforesee, nor did Drayle, the results of an error or deliberatedisobedience on the part of one of his assistants. 

"We waited, the doctor and I, for the arrival of the man who, we wereconvinced, had been transported some three hundred miles in a mannerthat defied belief. The evidence would come, Drayle had said, in a fewhours. Long before they had elapsed we were starting at the sound ofevery passing motor, for we knew that a plane must land some distancefrom the house and that the travelers would make the last mile or soby car. 

"Mrs. Drayle endeavored to convince the imagined widow that herhusband was safe and was returning speedily. Later she rejoined us, full of questions that we answered in a comforting blind faith. Thetime limit was drawing to a close when the sound of an automobile hornwas quickly followed by a sharp knock on the laboratory door. At asign from Mrs. Drayle one of the policemen opened it and we saw twomen before us. One, a scholarly appearing, bespectacled youth, Irecognized as Drayle's Boston assistant, Ward; the other, a ratherburly individual, was a stranger to me. But there was no doubt he wasthe man we awaited so eagerly, for Mrs. Farrel screamed 'Harry!Harry!' and sped across the room towards him. 

 * * * * *

"At first she ran her fingers rather timidly over his face, and thenpinched his huge shoulders, as if to assure herself of his reality. The sense of touch must have satisfied her, for abruptly she kissedhim, flung her arms about him, clung to him, and crooned littleendearments. The big man, in turn, patted her cheeks awkwardly andmumbled in a convincingly natural voice, ''Sall right, Mary, old kid!There ain't nothin' to it. Yeah! Sure it's me!'

"Then I was conscious of Drayle's presence. A brown silk dressing gownfell shapelessly about his spare frame and smoke from his cigaretterose in a quivering blue-white stream. Ward spied him at the samemoment and stepped forward with quick outstretched hands. I rememberthe flame of adoring zeal in the youngster's eyes as he tried tospeak. At length he managed to stammer some congratulatory phraseswhile Drayle clapped him affectionately on the back. 

"Then Drayle turned to Farrel to ask him how he enjoyed the trip. Farrel grinned and said, 'Fine! It was like a dream, sir! First I'm inone place and then I'm in another and I don't know nothing about how Igot there. But I could do with a drink, sir. I ain't used to themairyplanes much. '

"Drayle accepted the hint and suggested that we all celebrate. He gaveinstructions over a desk telephone and almost immediately a manentered with a small service wagon containing a wide assortment ofliquors and glasses. When we had all been served, Ward asked somewhathesitantly if he might propose a toast. 'To Dr. Drayle, the greatestscientist of all time!'

 * * * * *

"We were of course, already somewhat drunk with excitement as welifted our glasses. But Drayle would not have it. 

"'Let me amend that, ' he said. 'Let us drink to the future ofscience. '

"'Sure!' said Farrel, very promptly. I think he was somewhat uncertainabout 'toast, ' but he clung hopefully to the word 'drink. '

"We had raised our glasses again when Drayle, who was facing the door, dropped his. It struck the floor with a little crash and the liquorspattered my ankles. Drayle whispered 'Great God!' I saw in thedoorway another Farrel. He was grimy, disheveled, his clothing wastorn, and his expression ugly; but his identity with 'Harry' wasunescapable. For an instant I suspected Drayle of trickery, ofperpetrating some fiendishly elaborate hoax. And then I heard Mrs. Farrel scream, heard the newcomer cry, 'Mary, ' and saw two men staringat each other in bewilderment. 

"The explanation burst upon me with a horrible suddenness. Farrel hadbeen reconstructed in each of Drayle's distant laboratories, and therestood before us two identities each equally authentic, each the legalhusband of the woman who, a few hours previously, had imagined herselfa widow. The situation was fantastic, nightmarish, unbelievable andundeniable. My head reeled with the fearful possibilities. 

"Drayle was the first to recover his poise. He opened a door leadinginto an adjoining room and motioned for us all to enter. That is, allbut the police. He left them wisely with their liquor. 'Finish it, ' headvised them. 'You see no one has been killed. '

 * * * * *

"They were not quite satisfied, but neither were they certain whatthey ought to do, and for once displayed common sense by doingnothing. When the door closed after us I saw that Buchannon, theWashington laboratory assistant, was with us. He must have arrivedwith the second Farrel, although I had not observed him during theconfusion attending the former's unexpected appearance. But Drayle hadnoted him and now seized his shoulders. 'Explain!' he demanded. 

"Buchannon's face went white and he shrank under the clutch ofDrayle's fingers. Beyond them I saw the two twinlike men standingbeside Mrs. Farrel, surveying each other with incredulous recognitionand distaste. 

"'Explain!' roared Drayle, and tightened his grasp. 

"'I thought you said Washington, Chief. ' His voice was not convincing. I didn't believe him, nor did Drayle. 

"'You lie!' he raged, and floored the man with his fist. 

"In a way I couldn't help feeling sorry for the chap. It must havebeen a frightful temptation to participate in the experiment and Isuppose he had not forseen the consequences. But I began to have aglimmering of the magnificent possibilities of the invention forpurposes far beyond Drayle's intent. For, I asked myself, why, if sucha machine could produce two human identities, why not a score, ahundred, a thousand? The best of the race could be multipliedindefinitely and man could make man at last, literally out of the dustof the earth. The virtue of instantaneous transmission which had beenDrayle's aim sank into insignificance beside it. I fancied a race ofsupermen thus created. And I still believe, Sergeant, that the chancefor the world's greatest happiness is sealed within that box youguard. But its first fruits were tragic. "

The historian shifted his position on the bench so as to escape thesun that was now reflected dazzlingly by the polished steel casket. 

 * * * * *

"Drayle did not glance again at his disobedient lieutenant. He wasconcerned with the problem of the extra man, or, I should say, anextra man, for both were equal. Never before in the history of theworld had two men been absolutely identical. They were, of course, onein thought, possessions and rights, physical attributes andappearance. Mrs. Farrel, as they were beginning to realize, was thewife of both. And I have an unworthy suspicion that the red-headedyoung woman, after she recovered from the shock, was not entirelydispleased. The two men, however, finding that each had an arm abouther waist, were regarding each other in a way that foretold trouble. Both spoke at the same time and in the same words. 

"'Take your hands off my wife!'

"And I think they would have attacked each other then if Drayle hadn'tintervened. He said, 'Sit down! All of you!' in so peremptory a voicethat we obeyed him. 

"'Now, ' he went on, 'pay attention to me. I think you realize thesituation. The question is, what we shall do about it?' He pointed anaccusing finger at the Farrel from Washington. 'You were notauthorized to exist; properly we should retransmit you, and withoutreassembling you would simply cease to be. '

"The man addressed looked terrified. 'It would be murder!' heprotested. 

"'Would it?' Drayle inquired of me. 

"I told him that it could not be proved inasmuch as there would be no_corpus delicti_ and hence nothing on which to base a charge. 

"But the Washington Farrel seemed to have more than an academicinterest in the question and grew obstinate. 

"'Nothing doing!' he announced emphatically. 'Here I am and here Istay. I started from this place this morning and now I'm back, and asfor that big ape over there I don't know nothing about him--excepthe'll be dead damn soon if he don't keep away from my wife. '

 * * * * *

"The other Drayle-made man leaped up at this, and again I expectedviolence. But Buchannon flung himself between, and they subsided, muttering. 

"'Very well, then, ' Drayle continued, when the room was quiet, 'hereis another solution. We can, as you realize, duplicate Mrs. Farrel, and I will double your present possessions. '

"This time it was Mrs. Farrel who was dissatisfied. 'You ain'ttalking to me, ' she informed Drayle. 'Me stand naked in front of allthem lamps and get turned into smoke? Not me!' A smile spread over herface and her eyes twinkled with deviltry. 'I didn't never think I'd bein one of them triangles like in the movies, and with my own husbands, but seein' I am, I'm all for keeping them both. Then I might knowwhere one of them was some of the time. '

"But neither of the men took to this idea and the problem appearedincreasingly complex. I proposed that the survivor be determined bylot, but this suggestion won no support from anyone. Again the two menspoke at the same instant and in the same words. It was like acarefully rehearsed chorus. 'I know my rights, and I ain't going to begypped out of them!'

"It was at this point that Drayle attempted bribery. He offered fiftythousand dollars to the man who would abandon Mrs. Farrel. But thisscheme fell through because both men sought the opportunity and Mrs. Farrel objected volubly. 

"So in the end Drayle promised each of them the same amount as a pricefor silence and left the matter of their relationships to their ownsettlement. 

 * * * * *

"I was skeptical of the success of the plan but could offer nothingbetter. So I drew up a release as legally binding as I knew how tomake it in a case without precedent. I remember thinking that if thematter ever came into court the judge would be as much at a loss as Iwas. 

"Our troubles, though, didn't spring from that source. Each of thethree parties accepted the arrangement eagerly and Drayle dismissedthem with a hand-shake, a wish for luck and a check for fifty thousanddollars each. It's very nice to be wealthy, you know. 

"Afterward, we went out and paid off the police. Perhaps that'sstating it too bluntly. I mean that Drayle thanked them for theirzealous attention to his interests, regretted that they had beenunnecessarily inconvenienced and treated that they would not takeamiss a small token of his appreciation of their devotion to duty. Then he shook hands with them both and I believe I saw a yellow billtransferred on each occasion. At any rate the officers saluted smartlyand left. 

"Of course I was impatient to question Drayle, but I could see that hewas desperately fatigued. So I departed. 

"Next morning I found my worst fears exceeded by the events of thenight. The three Farrels who had left us in apparently amiable spiritshad proceeded to the home of Mrs. And the original Mr. Farrel. Therethe argument of who was to leave had been resumed. Both men were, ofcourse, of the same mind. Whether both desired to stay or flee I wouldnot presume to say. But an acrimonious dispute led to physicalhostilities, and while Mrs. Farrel, according to accounts, cheeredthem on, they literally fought to the death. Being equally capable, there was naturally, barring interruption, no other possible outcome. I can well believe they employed the same tactics, swung the sameblows, and died at the same instant. 

"Mrs. Farrel, after carefully retrieving both of her husbands' checks, told a great deal of the story. As might be expected, nobody believedthe yarn except our profound federal law makers. They welcomed anopportunity to investigate an outsider for a change and had all of usbefore a committee. 

"Finally the Congress of these United States of America, plus thesagacious Supreme Court, decided that my client wasn't guilty ofanything, but that he mustn't do it again. At least that was the gistof it. I recollect that I offered a defense of psycopathicneuroticism. 

"As a result of the _obiter dictum_ and a resolution by both HousesAssembled Drayle's invention was sealed, dated and placed under guard. That's its history, Sergeant. "

 * * * * *

The white-haired old gentleman picked up the high silk hat that addeda final touch of distinction to his tall figure, and looked about himas if trying to recall something. At last the idea came. 

"By the way, " he inquired suddenly, "didn't I have an extraordinarilyobnoxious grandson with me when I came?"

The attentive auditor was vastly startled. He surveyed the great hallrapidly, but reflected before he answered. 

"No, sir--I mean he ain't no more'n average! But I reckon we'd betterfind him, anyhow. "

His glance had satisfied the sergeant that at least the object of hischarge was safe and his men still vigilant. "I'll be back in aminute, " he informed them. "Don't let nothin' happen. "

"Bring us something more'n a breath, " pleaded the corporal, disrespectfully. 

The sergeant had already set off at a brisk pace with the storyteller. For several minutes as they rushed from room to room the huntwas unrewarded. 

"I think, sir, " said the sergeant, "we'd better look in the naturalhistory division. There is stuffed animals in there that the kids isfond of. "

"You're probably right, " the patriarch gasped as he struggled tomaintain the gait set by the younger man. "I might have known hedidn't really want to hear the story. "

"They never do, " answered the other over his shoulder. "I'll betthat's him down there on the next floor. "

 * * * * *

The two searchers had emerged upon a wide gallery that commanded aclear view of the main entrance where various specimens of Americanfauna were mounted in intriguing replicas of their native habitat. 

The guard pointed an accusing finger at one of these groups and sprangtoward the stairs. 

The old gentleman's breath and strength were gone. He could only gazein the direction that had been indicated by the madly running guard;but he had no doubts. A small boy was certainly digging vigorously atthe head of a specimen of _Ursus Polaris_ that the curator hadrepresented in the dramatic pose of killing a seal. A protesting wailarose from below as the young naturalist was withdrawn from his fieldby a capable hand on the slack of his trousers. And presently, chagrined with failure, the culprit was before his grandsire. 

"Gee!" he complained, "I was only looking at the polar bear. Are polarbears always white? Are--"

"You'd better take him away, sir, " interrupted the sergeant. "He wastrying to pry out one of the bear's eyes with the stick of thelollypop I give him. Take him. "

The old gentleman extended both hands. His left found a grip in hisgrandson's coat collar; his right, partly concealing a governmentengraving, met the guard's with a clasp of gratitude. 

"Sergeant, " he remarked in a voice tense with feeling, "a half-hourago I expressed some ridiculous regrets that Drayle's invention hadbeen kept from the world. Now I realize its horrid menace. I shudderto think it might have been responsible for two like him!"

The object of disapproval was shaken indicatively. 

"Guard the secret well, Sergeant! Guard it well! The world's peacedepends upon you!" The old gentleman's words trembled with conviction. 

Then alternately shaking his head and his grandson he marched down thehallway, ebony cane tapping angrily upon the stone. 

As the exhausted but happy warrior retraced his steps a high-pitchedvoice floated after him. 

"Grandpa, are polar bears _always_ white?"

 * * * * *

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_The Invisible X-Flyers_

 The following is a semi-technical description of the operation of the invisible X-flyers used in "Jetta of the Lowlands" as compiled by Philip Grant in the year 2021 from official records of the Anti-War Department of the United States of North America, and discovered recently by Ray Cummings. 

 The attainment of mechanical invisibility reached a state of perfection in the year 2000 sufficient to make it practical for many uses. For a century this result had been sought. It came, about the year 2000, not as a single startling discovery, but as the culmination of the patient labor of many men during many years. The popular mind has always considered that science advances by a series of "great scientific discoveries"; "unprecedented"; "revolutionary. " That is not so. Each step in the progress of scientific achievement is built most carefully upon the one beneath it. And generally the "revolutionary, unprecedented discovery" has very little of itself that is new; rather it is a new combination of older, perhaps seemingly impractical knowledge. Every scientific theory, every device, is the offspring from a large and varied family tree of many scientific ancestors, each of whom in his day was a remarkable personage. 

 Thus it is, with the principles of mechanical invisibility. I deal here with the famous X-flyers. The operation of the plane itself is immaterial; its motors; its wing-spread surfaces; its aerial controls. I am concerned only with the scientific principles underlying its power of invisibility. 

 Three scientific factors are involved: First, the process known as de-electroniration; second, the theories of color absorption; third, the material, inevitable deflection (bending) of light rays when passing through a magnetic field. 

 I take each of the three in order. The forerunners of de-electroniration were the Martel effects--the experiments of Charles Martel, in Paris, in 1937. A new electric current, of a different character--now called the oscillating current as distinct from the alternating and direct--was developed. Metallic plates were electro-magnetized to produce an enveloping magnetic field of somewhat a different character from any field formerly known. 

 Dr. Norton Grenfell followed this in 1946 by using the Martel oscillating current to obtain a reverse effect. A similar disturbance of electrode balance. But not a surcharge. An exhaustion. An anti-electrical state, instead of a state of magnetism. A metallic mass so treated--and with a constant flow of oscillating current holding its subnormal electronic balance--was then said to be de-electronired. 

 Scientific "discoveries" are largely made by the trial and error system. The scientist takes what he finds. Generally he does not know, at first, what it means. Martell took his oscillating current and "discovered" the Martel Magnetic Levitation, whereby gravity was lessened, and then completely nullified. Grenfell, with his de-electroniration, increased the power of gravity. The two were combined by Grenfell and his associates--and the secret of interplanetary flight was at hand. 

 But there was a host of other workers not interested in space flyers; they probed in other directions. It was found that the subnormal magnetic field surrounding a metallic substance in a state of de-electroniration had two unusual properties: its color absorption was high; and it bent light rays from their normal straight path into a curve abnormally great. Yet, though it absorbed the color of the rays emanating from the de-electronired metal (the metal itself increasing this result), the magnetic field, while bending the rays passing through it from distant objects behind it, nevertheless left their color and all their inherent properties unchanged. 

 The principles of color absorption are these:--a pigment--a paint, a dye, if you will--is "red" because it absorbs from the light rays of the sun all the other colors and leaves only red to be reflected from it to the eye. Or "violet" because all the rest are absorbed, and the violet is reflected. Or "black" because all are absorbed; and "white" the reverse, all blended and reflected. Color is dependent upon vibratory motion. The solar spectrum--its range of visibility through the primary colors from red to violet--can be likened to a range of radio wave-lengths; vibration frequencies; and when we eliminate them all save the "violet"--that is what we have left, in the radio to hear, in color absorption to see. 

 Thus, a de-electronired metal was found to produce black. Not black as habitually we meet it--a "shiny" black, a "dull" black; but a true black--a real absence of light-ray reflection--a "nothingness to see"; in effect, an invisibility. 

 A word of explanation is necessary regarding the other property of the de-electronired field--the bending of distant light rays into a curve, yet leaving their spectrum unchanged. It was Albert Einstein who first made the statement--in the years following the turn of the century at 1900--that it was a normal, natural thing for a ray of light to be slightly deflected from its straight path when passing through a magnetic field. The claim caused world-wide interest, for upon its truth or falsity the whole fabric of the Einstein Theory of Relativity was woven. 

 An eclipse of the sun in the 1920's established that light is actually bent in the manner Einstein had calculated. A magnetic field surrounds the sun. In those days they did not know that it is a field of subnormal electronic balance--in effect, the result of de-electroniration. It was found, nevertheless, that stars close to the limb of the sun appeared, not in their true positions, but shifted in just the directions and with the amount of shift Einstein predicted. The light rays coming from them to the eye of the observer on Earth were curved in passing so close to the sun. But the color-bands of their spectrums were unaltered. 

 And some of the stars actually were behind the sun, yet because of the curved path of the light, were visible. I mention this because it is an important aspect of the subject of mechanical invisibility. 

 With the foregoing factors, the secret of mechanical invisibility is constructed. Gracely, an American--following a long series of world-wide experiments, tests of current strength, frequencies of oscillation, suitable metals, etc. , which I cannot detail here--in 1955 was the final developer of the mechanisms subsequently used in the X-flyers. 

 Gracely produced what he christened "aluminoid-spectrite"--a light-weight alloy which, when carrying an oscillating electronic current of the proper frequency, produced the effects I have described. It absorbed from the light rays coming from the metal, all the colors of the solar spectrum, well beyond the range of the human eye at both ends of the scale. The result was a "visible nothingness. "

 A moment's thought will make clear that term. A visible nothingness is not invisibility. The fact that something was there but could not be seen was obvious. A black hat with a light on it and placed against an average background is almost as easy to see as a white hat. Gracely's first crude experiments were made with an aluminoid-spectrite cube--a small brick a foot in each dimension. The cube glowed, turned, dark, then black, then was gone. He had it resting on a white table, with a white background. And the fact that the cube was still there, was perfectly obvious. It was as though a hole of nothingness were set against the white table. It outlined the cube; reconstructed it so that for practical purposes the eye saw not a white, aluminoid brick, but a dead black one. 

 And this is very much what a man sees when he stares at his black hat on a table. The hat occults its background, and thus reconstructs itself. 

 But when Gracely determined the proper vibrations of his oscillating current to coincide with all the other material factors he was using, the final result was before him-real invisibility. He used a patterned background--a symmetrically checkered surface, most difficult of all. The light rays coming from this background passed through the magnetic field surrounding the invisible colorless cube, and were bent into a curved path. But their own color-spectrum--in actuality the color, shape, all the visible characteristics of the background--was not greatly altered. The observer saw what actually was behind the invisible cube: the checkered background, sometimes slightly distorted, but nevertheless sufficiently clear for its abnormality to escape notice. Thus the cube's outlines were not reconstructed; and, in effect, it had vanished. 

 In practical workings with the X-flyers, no such difficult test as Gracely's cube and rectangular, symmetrically patterned background is ever met. The varying background behind a plane--at rest or flying, and particularly at night--demands less perfection of background than Gracely's laboratory conditions. I am informed that an X-flyer can vaguely be seen--or sensed, rather--from some angles and under certain and unfavorable conditions of light, and depending on its line of movement relative to the angle of observation, and the type and color-lighting of its background. But under most conditions it represents a very nearly perfect mechanical invisibility. 

 There is one aspect of the subject with which I may close this brief paper. I give it without technical explanation; it seems to me an amusing angle. 

 The theory of stereoscopics--the vision of the twin lenses of the human eyes, set a distance apart to give the perception of depth, of the third dimension--is in itself a subject tremendously interesting, and worthy of anyone's study. I have no space for it here, nor would it be strictly relevant. I need only state that a two-eyed man sees partially around an object (by virtue of the different angles from which each of his eyes gaze at it) and thus sees a trifle more of the background than would otherwise be the case. And this--these two viewpoints blended in his brain--gives him his perception of "depth, " of "solidity"--the difference between a real scene of three dimensions and a painted scene on a canvas of two dimensions with only the artist's skill in perspective to simulate the third. 

 And I cannot refrain from mentioning that in Government tests of the Anti-War Department to determine the perfection of the invisibility of the X-flyers, it was a one-eyed man who proved that they were not always totally invisible!--Ray Cummings. 

_Thank You_

 Dear Editor:

 I just want you to know this: I am a reader of your truly named Astounding Stories. I really enjoyed reading the "Spawn of the Stars, " also "Brigands of the Moon, " and I am very glad to hear that we are going to have another of Charles W. Diffin's stories in the next issue--"The Moon Master. "--J. R. Penner, 376 Woodlawn Ave, Buffalo N. Y. 

_"A Wiz"_

 Dear Editor:

 I am only a young girl sixteen years of age but am greatly interested in science. I have no master mind by any means, but have worked out many a difficult problem in school for my science prof. 

 Your magazine is a wiz. I haven't missed an instalment since it started. Give us more stories like "Monsters of Moyen, " and "The Beetle Horde. "--Josephine Frankhouser, 4949 Chestnut St. , Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. 

_"Pretty Good"_

 Dear Editor:

 I received Astounding Stories for May and it is pretty good. The next issue is number six, and I hope it is better than the previous ones. There have been some stories that do not belong in a Science Fiction magazine, such as: "The Cave of Horror, " "The Corpse on the Grating, " "The Soul Master, " and "The Man who was Dead. " There is also another story that was printed in the May issue that, so far as I think, does not belong in this magazine: that is, "Murder Madness. "

 Even all the other stories seem to be fantastic. Weird. Why not try to publish something on the H. G. Wells, E. R. Burroughs type of stories, also Ray Cummings' "The Man who Mastered Time, " or "The Time Machine, " by Wells?--Louis Wentzler, 1933 Woodbine St. , Brooklyn, N. Y. 

_From Ye Reader_

 Dear Ye Ed. :

 That sounds rather medieval a little for the editor of so novel a magazine, but nevertheless let's forget that and talk about some astounding stories. 

 First, I would suggest that you eliminate all stories of interplanetary travel (I would be different), as there are already several magazines on the market which deal almost exclusively with such stories. Now, tales like "The Beetle Horde, " and those written by Murray Leinster, and those concerning that Sherlock Holmes, Dr. Bird, and those about the deep sea, like "Into the Ocean's Depths, "--such stories are astounding, and good. And once in a while let's have a humorous story. You know: "A bit of humor now and then--"

 Well, anyhow, publish any kind of astounding story, just so it is different and does not deal with interplanetary travel. 

 Now, about the magazine. I think it is a good publication and I like it werra, werra mooch. I bought it on impulse and happened to be lucky enough to get the first issue, and nary an issue have I missed since. Although I possess an abject horror of any kind of insect, I enjoyed "The Beetle Horde" to the fullest extent. But here's hoping nothing like that will really happen. 

 Another thing I'd like to state is this: Some reader made a remark about not publishing any of Verne's works. I say you should. Why should any such great author be disregarded in so good a magazine? And is it not interesting to note that some of his stories have become actual realizations? Even Poe's should be published. All those dead authors whose stories would be considered good were they living. Why should any person ask not to have such good stories in your magazine? Perhaps there are some people who would enjoy them, but do not have the means nor time to buy these great works in book form. Think it over, ye Ed. , think it over. 

 And now, to finish up, I'll say: are there any readers like me--a girl--or do only men and boys read Astounding Stories?--Gertrude Hemken, 5730 So. Ashland Ave. , Chicago, Ill. 

_Short--and Sweet_

 Dear Editor:

 Congratulations! Have followed up every issue of Astounding Stories and have found them the best yet. I have one fault to find and that is you do not publish Astounding Stories often enough. Thirty days is too far between. --Bernard Bauer, 235 Holland St. , Syracuse, N. Y. 

_Yes Sir!_

 Dear Editor:

 I read Astounding Stories all the time, although I'm just a boy. I think they're O. K. They give me a great "kick. "

 I think "The Moon Master" was the best story I ever read. Please ask Mr. Diffin to write more like it. 

 But then all the stories are really peppy. --Jack Hudson, St. Mark's School, Southborough, Massachusetts. 

_"Undoubtedly the Best"_

 Dear Editor:

 Your magazine is undoubtedly the best Science Fiction "mag" on the stands. Why? Because of your authors. There is not another Science Fiction book on the stands that has stories by Victor Rousseau, Murray Leinster Ray Cummings, A. T. Locke, A. J. Burks, C. W. Diffin, S. W. Ellis and many others. 

 Some of your readers want stories by Dr. David H. Keller, Ed Earl Repp and Walter Kately. Well, I just wanted to tell you that I have stopped reading all other Science Fiction "mags" on account of the frequency of these authors in them. So please, please, don't destroy my last stronghold. 

 Also, I would not be against reprints. There is only one so far who has objected to reprints, while there have been several asking you to reprint A. Merritt's "People of the Pit. " It would not only satisfy your present readers, but, because of the great popularity of A. Merritt among the reading circles of to-day, it would gain for you many more readers. 

 Harl Vincent is an indispensable acquisition to "our" magazine. His stories are not only all excellent but his stories all contain good science. He will bring you many new readers. 

 May I add my voice to every other reader's in the cry for the reprinting of "People of the Pit, " by A. Merritt? Why not give us some stories by him? He's pretty near the best writer living to-day. 

 I don't care for the Mars stories by Burroughs. He's too much long sword and short sword. A Merritt, however, is the man for you to get and keep. 

 The schedule for July looks "doggone good" and suggestive to the imagination. You might increase the contents of the book. 

 The only thing wrong with the stories is that you have too many repetitions. Please get A. Merritt. If you publish stories by him you will see a very noticeable increase in your subscription column. Another author who would repeat A. Merritt's action on your subscription column is Dr. Edward Elmer Smith. Please see about these authors. --Gabriel Kirschner, Box 301, Temple, Texas. 

_From Young Miss Nightingale_

 Dear Editor:

 I have been wanting to write to you for a long time but only now am I able to do so. When I first got a copy of your magazine I just grabbed it and started reading it. That magazine had the first installment of "Brigands of the Moon" in it. Now, after one magazine has been read I nearly burst until the next one comes. 

 As for the writers, I like Ray Cummings, Harl Vincent, Sewell Peaslee Wright, and Murray Leinster best. I like interplanetary stories best. I also like stories of the Fourth Dimension and those of ancient races of people living in uninhabited parts of the earth. So far I have liked especially well "The Ray of Madness, " "Cold Light, " "From the Ocean Depths" and its sequel "Into the Ocean's Depths, " "Brigands of the Moon, " and "Murder Madness. " Of course, I like the others too. I am only a mere girl (that accounts for this poor typewriting)--only ten years old--but I know my likes and dislikes. --Ellen Laura Nightingale, 223 So. Main St. , Fairmont, Minn. 

_Yessir--H. W. Wessolowski_

 Dear Editor:

 I have just finished the June issue of Astounding Stories. It contained some very interesting stories, such as "Brigands of the Moon, " by Ray Cummings, "The Moon Master, " by Charles W. Diffin, "Murder Madness, " by Murray Leinster, and "Giants of the Ray, " by Tom Curry. Although "Out of the Dreadful Depths, " by C. D. Willard, was a good story, it does not belong in a Science Fiction magazine. 

 One of the best improvements you could make on Astounding Stories right now is to cut all edges smooth. I would like to see at least one full page picture with each story. 

 Wesso is the only good artist you have. Is Wessolowski his real name?--Jack Darrow, 4225 N. Spaulding Avenue, Chicago, Illinois. 

Anent Reincarnation. 

 Dear Editor:

 In the July issue of Astounding Stories, a correspondent, Worth K. Bryant, asks some thought-provoking questions about the fascinating subject of reincarnation. Although I have written to Mr. Bryant personally, I would like to present my views on the subject to all your readers. 

 Mr. Bryant asks: "Could a person remember his own death in a former reincarnation?" Yes, he could--if he could "tune in" on his higher consciousness, or ego. Were that possible, he could see all his past lives from beginning to end. It is only the physical self that dies; the ego, or true self, is immortal and remembers everything that it has experienced in previous incarnations on the physical plane. But since consciousness on this plane is expressed through the material brain, most human beings are unable to recall their former visits to this world; and it is perhaps better so. If there were not loss of memory our minds would now range over the adventures of thousands of years in the past. It would encompass a vast drama with countless loves and hates, of many lives filled with pathos and tragedy. Thus to distract the mind from the present life would retard our progress. There will come a time in human evolution when the average person will be able to recall his past incarnations, and then there will be no need or argument that we have lived here before, because everyone will remember it. 

 For those who care to pursue this subject more fully, I recommend "Elementary Theosophy, " by L. W. Rogers, obtainable at most public libraries. --Allen Glasser, 1610 University Ave. , New York, N. Y. 

_Prefers the Longer Stories_

 Dear Editor:

 I've been reading your excellent periodical since the first issue, and I feel that I'm entitled to an opportunity to give expression to my reactions to the various issues. Of course, as a whole, the magazines were uniformly good every month, but some of the stories, naturally, were better than others. 

 In the January issue the best story was "The Beetle Horde" by Victor Rousseau. I expected a lot from this writer, having read his "Draft of Eternity, " "The Eye of Balamok" and "The Messiah of the Cylinder. " I wasn't disappointed. 

 The best story in the February issue was "Spawn of the Stars, " by Charles Willard Diffin. Diffin is a newcomer as far as I know, but he certainly can write. 

 "Vandals of the Stars" took the honors in the March issue. A. T. Locke has written some good adventure shorts, but this was his first fantastic story, to the best of my knowledge. Come again, Locke! "Brigands of the Moon, " by Ray Cummings was great too. 

 The best for April was "Monsters of Moyen, " by Arthur J. Burks. Clever idea. 

 Victor Rousseau rang the bell again in the May issue with "The Atom Smasher. " Let's have other stories of time-travel--some into the very remote past. Cave man stuff, you know!

 "The Moon Master, " by Charles Willard Diffin was the best for June. Diffin is one of your best writers. 

 In the last (July) issue, "The Forgotten Planet, " by Sewell Peaslee Wright, I think, takes first place, though hard-pressed by "Earth, the Marauder" and "The Power and the Glory. "

 Now for a few suggestions. In the first place, let's have less short stories, and more longer ones. In my choice of stories for each issue, with one exception, I picked the novelettes. My reason for so doing is the fact that the authors apparently are not able to do justice to their themes in the shorter lengths. Of course, there are exceptions, like Diffin's "The Power and the Glory. "

 My second suggestion in this: Why not have a fixed position for your announcement of the stories for the next issue? The last page, for example. This would be more convenient for the readers; besides, those of us who have "our mags" bound into volumes could then cut out the announcement. 

 Finally, my third suggestion--and the real reason for my writing this letter. Don't you think it would be a good idea to publish in each issue the picture of one of the authors, and a short synopsis of his life? How he started writing, his experiences, etc. I'm certain that I'm not the only reader who's interested in the authors. I hope, if everything else I've said is ignored, you'll at least give the last suggestion serious consideration. 

 Why not get the opinion of other readers?

 Continued and increasing success to Astounding Stories, best of the Science Fiction magazines!--P. A. Lyter, 220 Peffer Street, Harrisburg, Pa. 

_Mr. Bates Accepts with Pleasure_

 Dear Editor:

 It is with greatest pleasure I note the addition of Miss Lilith Lorraine to your staff, and her initial effort in your publication. "The Jovian Jest" is but a glimpse of what is to come. The stories which she has written heretofore have been real gems of Science Fiction. May I again congratulate you. 

 The Science Correspondence Club takes great pleasure in announcing the enrollment of Capt. S. P. Meek and R. F. Starzl as members. These authors are well-known to Astounding Stories readers. Also, we take pleasure in announcing that we have asked Mr. Bates to become an honorary member in recognition of his fine work in furthering Science Fiction. 

 Our first bulletin has been issued and real progress is started. For those interested, Mr. Raymond A. Palmer at 1431--34th St. , Milwaukee, Wisconsin, will handle all inquiries. 

 In closing, let me say that when a story pleases you readers, or the work of some author impresses you, write to the editor and tell him about it. In this way more and better Science Fiction will appear. Let us all give Astounding Stories a big hand, you readers! Best wishes of the Science Correspondence Club and--Walter L. Dennis, F. P. S. , 4653 Addison St. , Chicago, Illinois. 

_"Bargain"_

 Dear Editor:

 I have just finished "The Atom Smasher, " in your May issue of Astounding Stories, and liked it very much. 

 This is the first story that I have read in your magazine, although I have read other magazines for the past three years. 

 I see where you inquire as to the kind of stories your readers want. 

 Personally, I think stories of interplanetary travel are the best, and most demanded by readers of Science Fiction. Try and have one in each issue. 

 In my opinion, I see no criticisms to be made on your magazine. It certainly would be a bargain at several times the price you ask. I am sure I will continue reading it--Louis D. Buchanan, Jr. , 711 Monroe Ave. , Evansville, Indiana. 

_No "Flash in the Pan"_

 Dear Editor:

 When I bought the first issue of Astounding Stories last December, I was impressed by its array of splendid stories and famous authors. I thought, then, that perhaps that first number was just a flash in the pan, and that succeeding issues would sink to the level of other Science Fiction magazines. Happily, I was wrong. Astounding Stories has more than fulfilled the promise of its initial issue. The stories are undoubtedly the finest of their kind, and written by the most prominent Science Fiction authors of the day. I cannot conceive of any possible improvement in the magazine. 

 I do wish, though, that you would not heed the gratuitous advice of certain earnest but misguided correspondents. For instance, in the June issue, one Warren Williams of Chicago, suggests that you enlarge the magazine and give each story a full-page illustration, like other Science Fiction periodicals. Mr. Williams evidently favors standardization. As one magazine is, so must the rest be. Please ignore this request, and others like it. Astounding Stories is different, unique; just keep it that way, and you will never lack a host of satisfied readers. 

 Before closing, I must voice my profound admiration for Murray Leinster's brilliant and engrossing story, "Murder Madness. " It's the best serial you've printed so far; though I have high anticipation for Arthur J. Burks' latest novel, "Earth, the Marauder. "--Mortimer Weisinger, 3550 Rochambeau Ave. , Bronx, New York. 

_"I Mean Increased"_

 Dear Editor:

 I wish to thank you for your reply to my letter. I did not expect you to give me a personal reply: that was why I asked you to reply to me in "The Readers' Corner. " You are the only editor I have ever known of that goes to the trouble to giving personal replies to readers. Other magazines require a nominal fee. That's another score for you!

 Your personal letter, as a girl would aptly say, "tickled me all over. "

 I am sorry I can't get a subscription just yet, but I am "bound" to my newsdealer a little while yet, as I immediately gave him a monthly order for Astounding Stories. 

 If you are the one who picked the authors, you have the best taste I have ever seen in one person. But couldn't your taste be improved? Pardon me, I mean increased. Namely, please add to your taste: H. P. Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard. 

 If you had different authors, in other words, new, inexperienced authors, I would object to your running more than one serial at a time, but with the marvelous old-timers I have no objections, for they can write long ones far better than they can the shorts. So keep them at work. 

 The three short stories, "Out of the Dreadful Depths, " "The Cavern World" and "Giants of the Ray, " were all very good. Ray Cummings was wonderful in the way he handled his "Brigands of the Moon. " It was a "wow baby. " "Murder Madness" is a great improvement over "Tanks. " "Tanks" was the worst I've ever read by Leinster. But he came out of his reverie in "Murder Madness. " It's great. 

 Sewell Peaslee Wright can work wonders with short stories. Keep his "typer" clicking. By the way, may I say a few good words for Sophie Wenzel Ellis? If she can duplicate "Creatures of the Light, " maker her repeat. 

 Victor Rousseau's story, "The Beetle Horde, " kept me "all het up" throughout. "The Atom Smasher" was excellent. I also greatly like stories of the mighty Atlantis. 

 I agree with others of your readers that you should not let Astounding Stories be printed in such a small size. Make it a little larger, and give us smoother paper, and you will prosper greatly. 

 "The Moon Master" was excellent. --Gabriel Kirschner, Box 301, Temple, Texas. 

_"Could Kick Myself"_

 Dear Editor:

 I have just started reading Astounding Stories and could kick myself for not seeing it sooner. In your latest issue, "The Moon Master, " by Charles Diffin, is great. He sure knows how to write adventure with science. 

 I am a member of the Science Corresponding Club and am glad to say it. In later years the club will be known just like other big clubs of to-day, "Nationally and Sciencelly. "--John Marcroft, 32 Washington St. , Central Falls, R. I. 

_A Full List_

 In the January number of Astounding Stories Cummings' "Phantom of Reality" was the best, followed by Rousseau's "Beetle Horde. "

 February: 1--Diffin's "Spawn of the Stars"; 2--Rousseau's "Beetle Horde"; 3--Ellis' "Creatures of the Light"; 4--Meek's "The Thief of Time. "

 March: 1--Cummings' "Brigands of the Moon"; 2--Locke's "Vandals of the Stars"; 3--Meek's "Cold Light. "

 April: 1--Cummings' "Brigands of the Moon"; 2--Burk's "Monsters of Moyen"; 3--Meek's "Ray of Madness"; 4--Pelcher's "Vampires of Venus. "

 May: 1--Cummings' "Brigands of the Moon"; 2--Leinster's "Murder Madness"; 3--Rousseau's "Atom Smasher. "

 June: 1--Cummings' "Brigands of the Moon"; 2--Leinster's "Murder Madness"; 3--Diffin's "Moon Master. "

 Please give us a story by H. P. Lovecraft, if you can get one. --Carl Ballard, 202 N. Main St. , Danville, Va. 

_"Words Cannot Express"_

 Dear Editor:

 I have read your wonderful magazine since it was first published, and words cannot express what a fine magazine I think it is. All my life, I have hoped that someone would publish a magazine just like Astounding Stories. A magazine just full to the brim with the right kind of stories; thrilling stories of super-science, well written in plain and convincing English by wide awake authors. 

 I thought that "The Cavern World" was a whiz of a story, and "The Moon Master" was so exciting that I sat up late at night reading it. Let's have more of that kind of science story, that thrills every red-blooded American. 

 I hope that you print your magazine on better paper. --David Bangs, 190 Marlboro St. , Boston, Mass. 

_Unconvinced_

 Dear Editor:

 I received the latest issue of Astounding Stories, and in looking it through I noticed your comments on reprints. Your argument can easily be shot full of holes, and that's what I intend to do. 

 First: Those stories being printed now are far inferior to the reprints. Even your best stories, such as "Murder Madness" and "Brigands of the Moon, " cannot be compared with such stories as "Station X, " "The Moon Pool, " "The Metal Monster, " or "The Columbus of Space" and "The Second Deluge. "

 Second: The Saturday Evening Post cannot be compared with our magazine, for all the stories printed in it can be obtained in book form, while the scientific novels are almost all out of print. 

 Third: There is surely more than one out of a hundred who haven't read the reprints. Just because some have read them is no reason that they don't want them. I know, for I have a large library of reprints and have read, and own, almost every one of them, yet I would gladly see them again. 

 Fourth: The authors need not starve. You could easily devote just a small space for reprints, and many would pay twenty-five cents for the magazine. 

 The fairest and most American idea would be to let your readers vote for this. Here is vote No. 1 for reprints. --Woodrow Gelman, 1603 President St. , Brooklyn, N. Y. 

_Praise and Suggestions_

 Dear Editor:

 I have just finished the July issue of Astounding Stories and classify the stories as follows:

 "Beyond the Heaviside Layer, " good; "Earth, the Marauder, " excellent, best in issue; "From an Amber Block, " fairly good; "The Terror of Air-Level Six, " very good; "The Forgotten Planet, " excellent; "The Power and the Glory, " good; "Murder Madness, " very good, but not so much so as preceding chapters. 

 Now for a few criticisms:

 1. Your magazine (or should I say "our" magazine?) is too small. Of course, it would be a radical change to make it larger, but, like others, I think in the end you would gain rather than lose by it. Most small magazines are cheap affairs, and to have Astounding Stories small brands it as a cheap type of magazine. Small magazines are more likely to be hidden on the newsstands by larger ones, and in most stores the large magazines have the more advantageous positions. 

 2. The edges of your pages are uneven. You look in the index and find an interesting story is on, for example, page 56. You skim the pages to find it, and from page 43 you find yourself suddenly at page 79. Make the paper more even, please. 

 3. Don't have advertisements before the stories. Have them in the rear. 

 4. Have a full page illustration facing the beginning of each story. If at the end of a story you find pages won't turn up right, continue the last page to the back of the book. 

 Wesso is excellent. Another good artist is Paul, who draws for another Science Fiction magazine. Your cover illustrations are fine. 

 Summary: Enlarge size of magazine, smooth edges of paper, have advertisements in rear of book, use full page illustrations. 

 If this is expensive, you could charge twenty-five cents instead of twenty cents, and I, for one, would be glad to pay the extra nickel as I do for other magazines of Science Fiction. --Robert Baldwin, 1427 Judson Ave. , Evanston, Illinois. 

_"The Readers' Corner"_

All Readers are extended a sincere and cordial invitation to "comeover to 'The Readers' Corner'" and join in our monthly discussion ofstories, authors, scientific principles and possibilities--everythingthat's of common interest in connection with our Astounding Stories. 

Although from time to time the Editor may make a comment or so, thisis a department primarily for _Readers_, and we want you to make fulluse of it. Likes, dislikes, criticisms, explanations, roses, brickbats, suggestions--everything's welcome here: so "come over in'The Readers' Corner'" and discuss it with all of us!

_--The Editor. _

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