CHAPTER XI

_The World Set Free_

They waited two days at Settler's Station. To push along the line into

the desert would have been useless, and both men were convinced that an

airplane would arrive for them. But it was not until the second

afternoon that the aviator arrived, half-dead with thirst and fatigue,

and almost incoherent.

His was the last plane on the Australian continent. He brought the news

of the destruction of Adelaide, and of the siege of Melbourne and

Sydney, as he termed it. He told Dodd and Tommy that the two cities had

been surrounded with trenches and barbed wire. Machine guns and

artillery were bombarding the trenches in which the beetles had taken

shelter.

"Has any one been out on reconnaissance?" asked Tommy.

Nobody had been permitted to pass through the barbed wire, though there

had been volunteers. It meant certain death. But, unless the beetles

were sapping deep in the ground, what their purpose was, nobody knew.

* * * * *

Tommy and Dodd led him to the piles of smoking, stinking debris and told

him.

That was where the aviator fainted from sheer relief.

"The Commonwealth wants you to take supreme command against the

beetles," he told Tommy, when he had recovered. "I'm to bring you back.

Not that they expect me back. But--God, what a piece of news! Forgive my

swearing--I used to be a parson. Still am, for the matter of that."

"How are you going to bring us three back in your plane?" asked Tommy.

"I shall stay here with Jimmydodd," said Haidia suavely. "There is not

the least danger any more. You must destroy the beetles before their

shells have grown again, that's all."

"Used to be a parson, you say? Still are?" shouted Dodd excitedly.

"Thank God! I mean, I'm glad to hear it. Come inside, and come quick. I

want you too, Tommy!"

Then Tommy understood. And it seemed as if Haidia understood, by some

instinct that belongs exclusively to women, for her cheeks were flushed

as she turned and smiled into Dodd's eyes.

Ten minutes later Tommy hopped into the biplane, leaving the happy

married couple at Settler's Station. His eyes grew misty as the plane

took the air, and he saw them waving to him from the ground. Dodd and

Haidia and he had been through so many adventures, and had reached

safety. He must not fail.

* * * * *

He did not fail. He found himself at Sydney in command of thirty

thousand men, all enthusiastic for the fight for the human race,

soldiers and volunteers ready to fight until they dropped. When the news

of the situation was made public, an immense wave of hope ran through

the world.

National differences were forgotten, color and creed and race grew more

tolerant of one another. A new day had dawned--the day of humanity's

true liberation.

Tommy's first act was to call out the fire companies and have the

beetles' trenches saturated with petrol from the fire hoses. Then

incendiary bullets, shot from guns from a safe distance, quickly

converted them into blazing infernos.

But even so only a tithe of the beetle army had been destroyed. Two

hundred planes had already been rushed from New Zealand, and their

aviators went up and scoured the country far and wide. Everywhere they

found trenches, and, where the soil was stony, millions of the beetles

clustered helplessly beneath great mounds of discarded shells.

An army of black trackers had been brought in planes from all parts of

the country, and they searched out the beetle masses everywhere along

the course that the invaders had taken. Then incendiary bombs were

dropped from above.

* * * * *

Day after day the beetle massacre went on. By the end of a week the

survivors of the invasion began to take heart again. It was certain that

the greater portion of the horde had been destroyed.

There was only one thing lacking. No trace of Bram had been seen since

his appearance at the head of his beetle army in front of Broken Hill.

And louder and more insistent grew the world clamor that he should be

found, and put to death in some way more horrible than any yet devised.

The ingenuity of a million minds worked upon this problem. Newspapers

all over the world offered prizes for the most suitable form of death.

Ingenious Oriental tortures were rediscovered.

The only thing lacking was Bram.

A spy craze ran through Australia. Five hundred Brams were found, and

all of them were in imminent danger of death before they were able to

prove an alias.

And, oddly enough, it was Tommy and Dodd who found Bram. For Dodd had

been brought back east, together with his bride, and given an important

command in the Army of Extermination.

* * * * *

Dodd had joined Tommy not far from Broken Hill, where a swarm of a

hundred thousand beetles had been found in a little known valley. The

monsters had begun to grow new shells, and the news had excited a fresh

wave of apprehension. The airplanes had concentrated for an attack upon

them, and Tommy and Dodd were riding together, Tommy at the controls,

and Dodd observing.

Dodd called through the tube to Tommy, and indicated a mass that was

moving through the scrub--some fifty thousand beetles, executing short

hops and evidently regaining some vitality. Tommy nodded.

He signalled, and the fleet of planes circled around and began to drop

their incendiary bombs. Within a few minutes the beetles were ringed

with a wall of fire. Presently the whole terrain was a blazing furnace.

Hours later, when the fires had died away, Tommy and Dodd went down to

look at the destruction that had been wrought. The scene was horrible.

Great masses of charred flesh and shell were piled up everywhere.

"I guess that's been a pretty thorough job," said Tommy. "Let's get

back, Jim."

"What's that?" cried Dodd, pointing. Then, "My God, Tommy, it's one of

our men!"

* * * * *

It was a man, but it was not one of their men, that creeping, maimed,

half-cinder and half-human thing that was trying to crawl into the

hollow of a rock. It was Bram, and recognition was mutual.

Bram dropping, moaning; he was only the shell of a man, and it was

incredible how he had managed to survive that ordeal of fire. The

remainder of his life, which only his indomitable will had held in that

shattered body, was evidently a matter of minutes, but he looked up at

Dodd and laughed.

"So--you're--here, damn you!" he snarled. "And--you think--you've won.

I've--another card--another invasion of the world--beside which this is

child's play. It's an invasion--"

Bram was going, but he pulled himself together with a supreme effort.

"Invasion by--new species of--monotremes," he croaked. "Deep

down in--earth. Was saving to--prove you the liar you are.

Monotremes--egg-laying platypus big as an elephant--existent long

before pleistocene epoch--make you recant, you lying fool!"

Bram died, an outburst of bitter laughter on his lips. Dodd stood silent

for a while; then reverently he removed his hat.

"He was a madman and a devil, but he had the potentialities of a god,

Tommy," he said.

* * * * *

SUCH WELL-KNOW WRITERS AS

Murray Leinster, Ray Cummings, Victor Rousseau, R. F. Starzl, A.

T. Locke, Capt. S. P. Meek and Arthur J. Burks

Write for

=ASTOUNDING STORIES=

* * * * *

Mad Music

_By Anthony Pelcher_

The sixty stories of the perfectly constructed Colossus building

had mysteriously crashed! What was the connection between this

catastrophe and the weird strains of the Mad Musician's violin?

[Illustration: _In an inner room they found a diabolical machine._]

To the accompaniment of a crashing roar, not unlike rumbling thunder,

the proud Colossus Building, which a few minutes before had reared its

sixty stories of artistic architecture towards the blue dome of the sky,

crashed in a rugged, dusty heap of stone, brick, cement and mortar. The

steel framework, like the skeleton of some prehistoric monster, still

reared to dizzy heights but in a bent and twisted shape of grotesque

outline.

No one knew how many lives were snuffed out in the avalanche.

As the collapse occurred in the early dawn it was not believed the

death list would be large. It was admitted, however, that autos, cabs

and surface cars may have been caught under the falling rock. One train

was known to have been wrecked in the subway due to a cave-in from the

surface under the ragged mountain of debris.

The litter fairly filled a part of Times Square, the most congested

cross-roads on God's footstool. Straggling brick and rock had rolled

across the street to the west and had crashed into windows and doors of

innocent small tradesmen's shops.

A few minutes after the crash a mad crowd of people had piled from

subway exits as far away as Penn Station and Columbus Circle and from

cross streets. These milled about, gesticulating and shouting

hysterically. All neighboring police stations were hard put to handle

the growing mob.

Hundreds of dead and maimed were being carried to the surface from the

wrecked train in the subway. Trucks and cabs joined the ambulance crews

in the work of transporting these to morgues and hospitals. As the

morning grew older and the news of the disaster spread, more milling

thousands tried to crowd into the square. Many were craning necks

hopelessly on the outskirts of the throng, blocks away, trying vainly to

get a view of what lay beyond.

The fire department and finally several companies of militia joined the

police in handling the crowd. Newsies, never asleep, yowled their

"Wuxtras" and made much small money.

The newspapers devoted solid pages in attempting to describe what had

happened. Nervously, efficient reporters had written and written, using

all their best adjectives and inventing new ones in attempts to picture

the crash and the hysterics which followed.

* * * * *

When the excitement was at its height a middle-aged man, bleeding at the

head, clothes torn and dusty, staggered into the West 47th street

police station. He found a lone sergeant at the desk.

The police sergeant jumped to his feet as the bedraggled man entered and

stumbled to a bench.

"I'm Pat Brennan, street floor watchman of the Colossus," he said. "I

ran for it. I got caught in the edge of the wreck and a brick clipped

me. I musta been out for some time. When I came around I looked back

just once at the wreck and then I beat it over here. Phone my boss."

"I'll let you phone your boss," said the sergeant, "but first tell me

just what happened."

"Earthquake, I guess. I saw the floor heaving in waves. Glass was

crashing and falling into the street. All windows in the arcade buckled,

either in or out. I ran into the street and looked up. God, what a

sight! The building from sidewalk to towers was rocking and waving and

twisting and buckling and I saw it was bound to crumple, so I lit out

and ran. I heard a roar like all Hell broke loose and then something

nicked me and my light went out."

"How many got caught in the building?"

"Nobody got out but me, I guess. There weren't many tenants. The

building is all rented, but not everybody had moved in yet and those as

had didn't spend their nights there. There was a watchman for every five

stories. An engineer and his crew. Three elevator operators had come in.

There was no names of tenants in or out on my book after 4 A.M. The

crash musta come about 6. That's all."

* * * * *

Throughout the country the news of the crash was received with great

interest and wonderment, but in one small circle it caused absolute

consternation. That was in the offices of the Muller Construction

Company, the builders of the Colossus. Jason V. Linane, chief engineer

of the company, was in conference with its president, James J. Muller.

Muller sat with his head in his hands, and his face wore an expression

of a man in absolute anguish. Linane was pacing the floor, a wild

expression in his eyes, and at times he muttered and mumbled under his

breath.

In the other offices the entire force from manager to office boys was

hushed and awed, for they had seen the expressions on the faces of the

heads of the concern when they stalked into the inner office that

morning.

Muller finally looked up, rather hopelessly, at Linane.

"Unless we can prove that the crash was due to some circumstance over

which we had no control, we are ruined," he said, and there actually

were tears in his eyes.

"No doubt about that," agreed Linane, "but I can swear that the Colossus

went up according to specifications and that every ounce and splinter of

material was of the best. The workmanship was faultless. We have built

scores of the biggest blocks in the world and of them all this Colossus

was the most perfect. I had prided myself on it. Muller, it was

perfection. I simply cannot account for it. I cannot. It should have

stood up for thousands of years. The foundation was solid rock. It

positively was not an earthquake. No other building in the section was

even jarred. No other earthquake was ever localized to one half block of

the earth's crust, and we can positively eliminate an earthquake or an

explosion as the possible cause. I am sure we are not to blame, but we

will have to find the exact cause."

"If there was some flaw?" questioned Muller, although he knew the

answer.

"If there was some flaw, then we're sunk. The newspapers are already

clamoring for probes, of us, of the building, of the owners and

everybody and everything. We have got to have something damned plausible

when we go to bat on this proposition or every dollar we have in the

world will have to be paid out."

"That is not all," said Muller: "not only will we be penniless, but we

may have to go to jail and we will never be able to show our faces in

reputable business circles again. Who was the last to go over that

building?"

"I sent Teddy Jenks. He is a cub and is swell headed and too big for his

pants, but I would bank my life on his judgment. He has the judgment of

a much older man and I would also bank my life and reputation on his

engineering skill and knowledge. He pronounced the building positively

O.K.--100 per cent."

"Where is Jenks?"

"He will be here as soon as his car can drive down from Tarrytown. He

should be here now."

* * * * *

As they talked Jenks, the youngest member of the engineering force,

entered. He entered like a whirlwind. He threw his hat on the floor and

drew out a drawer of a cabinet. He pulled out the plans for the

Colossus, big blue prints, some of them yards in extent, and threw them

on the floor. Then he dropped to his knees and began poring over them.

"This is a hell of a time for you to begin getting around," exploded

Muller. "What were you doing, cabareting all night?"

"It sure is terrible--awful," said Jenks, half to himself.

"Answer me," thundered Muller.

"Oh yes," said Jenks, looking up. He saw the look of anguish on his

boss's face and forgot his own excitement in sympathy. He jumped to his

feet, placed his arm about the shoulders of the older man and led him to

a chair. Linane only scowled at the young man.

"I was delayed because I stopped by to see the wreck. My God, Mr.

Muller, it is awful." Jenks drew his hand across his eye as if to erase

the scene of the wrecked building. Then patting the older man

affectionately on the back he said:

"Buck up. I'm on the job, as usual. I'll find out about it. It could not

have been our fault. Why man, that building was as strong as Gibraltar

itself!"

"You were the last to inspect it," accused Muller, with a break in his

voice.

"Nobody knows that better than I, and I can swear by all that's square

and honest that it was no fault of the material or the construction. It

must have been--"

"Must have been what?"

"I'll be damned if I know."

"That's like him," said Linane, who, while really kindly intentioned,

had always rather enjoyed prodding the young engineer.

"Like me, like the devil," shouted Jenks, glaring at Linane. "I suppose

you know all about it, you're so blamed wise."

"No, I don't know," admitted Linane. "But I do know that you don't like

me to tell you anything. Nevertheless, I am going to tell you that you

had better get busy and find out what caused it, or--"

"That's just what I'm doing," said Jenks, and he dived for his plans on

the floor.

Newspaper reporters, many of them, were fighting outside to get in.

Muller looked at Linane when a stenographer had announced the reporters

for the tenth time.

"We had better let them in," he said, "it looks bad to crawl for cover."

"What are you going to tell them?" asked Linane.

"God only knows," said Muller.

"Let me handle them," said Jenks, looking up confidently.

* * * * *

The newspapermen had rushed the office. They came in like a wild wave.

Questions flew like feathers at a cock-fight.

Muller held up his hand and there was something in his grief-stricken

eyes that held the gentlemen of the press in silence. They had time to

look around. They saw the handsome, dark-haired, brown-eyed Jenks poring

over the plans. Dust from the carpet smudged his knees, and he had

rubbed some of it over a sweating forehead, but he still looked the

picture of self-confident efficiency.

"Gentlemen," said Muller slowly, "I can answer all your questions at

once. Our firm is one of the oldest and staunchest in the trade. Our

buildings stand as monuments to our integrity--"

"All but one," said a young Irishman.

"You are right. All but one," confessed Muller. "But that one, believe

me, has been visited by an act of God. Some form of earthquake or some

unlooked for, uncontrolled, almost unbelievable catastrophe has

happened. The Muller company stands back of its work to its last dollar.

Gentlemen, you know as much as we do. Mr. Jenks there, whose reputation

as an engineer is quite sturdy, I assure you, was the last to inspect

the building. He passed upon it when it was finished. He is at your

service."

Jenks arose, brushed some dust from his knees.

"You look like you'd been praying," bandied the Irishman.

"Maybe I have. Now let me talk. Don't broadside me with questions. I

know what you want to know. Let me talk."

The newspapermen were silent.

"There has been talk of probing this disaster, naturally," began Jenks.

"You all know, gentlemen, that we will aid any inquiry to our utmost.

You want to know what we have to say about it--who is responsible. In a

reasonable time I will have a statement to make that will be startling

in the extreme. I am not sure of my ground now."

"How about the ground under the Colossus?" said the Irishman.

"Don't let's kid each other," pleaded Jenks. "Look at Mr. Muller: it is

as if he had lost his whole family. We are good people. I am doing all I

can. Mr. Linane, who had charge of the construction, is doing all he

can. We believe we are blameless. If it is proven otherwise we will

acknowledge our fault, assume financial responsibility, and take our

medicine. Believe me, that building was perfection plus, like all our

buildings. That covers the entire situation."

Hundreds of questions were parried and answered by the three engineers,

and the reporters left convinced that if the Muller Construction Company

was responsible, it was not through any fault of its own.

* * * * *

The fact that Jenks and Linane were not strong for each other, except to

recognize each other's ability as engineers, was due to an incident of

the past. This incident had caused a ripple of mirth in engineering

circles when it happened, and the laugh was on the older man, Linane.

It was when radio was new. Linane, a structural engineer, had paid

little attention to radio. Jenks was the kind of an engineer who dabbled

in all sciences. He knew his radio.

When Jenks first came to work with a technical sheepskin and a few tons

of brass, Linane accorded him only passing notice. Jenks craved the

plaudits of the older man and his palship. Linane treated him as a son,

but did not warm to his social advances.

"I'm as good an engineer as he is," mused Jenks, "and if he is going to

high-hat me, I'll just put a swift one over on him and compel his

notice."

The next day Jenks approached Linane in conference and said:

"I've got a curious bet on, Mr. Linane. I am betting sound can travel a

mile quicker than it travels a quarter of a mile."

"What?" said Linane.

"I'm betting fifty that sound can travel a mile quicker than it can

travel a quarter of a mile."

"Oh no--it can't," insisted Linane.

"Oh yes--it can!" decided Jenks.

"I'll take some of that fool money myself," said Linane.

"How much?" asked Jenks.

"As much as you want."

"All right--five hundred dollars."

"How you going to prove your contention?"

"By stop watches, and your men can hold the watches. We'll bet that a

pistol shot can be heard two miles away quicker than it can be heard a

quarter of a mile away."

"Sound travels about a fifth of a mile a second. The rate varies

slightly according to temperature," explained Linane. "At the freezing

point the rate is 1,090 feet per second and increases a little over one

foot for every degree Fahrenheit."

"Hot or cold," breezed Jenks, "I am betting you five hundred dollars

that sound can travel two miles quicker than a quarter-mile."

"You're on, you damned idiot!" shouted the completely exasperated

Linane.

* * * * *

Jenks let Linane's friends hold the watches and his friend held the

money. Jenks was to fire the shot.

Jenks fired the shot in front of a microphone on a football field. One

of Linane's friends picked the sound up instantaneously on a three-tube

radio set two miles away. The other watch holder was standing in the

open a quarter of a mile away and his watch showed a second and a

fraction.

All hands agreed that Jenks had won the bet fairly. Linane never exactly

liked Jenks after that.

Then Jenks rather aggravated matters by a habit. Whenever Linane would

make a very positive statement Jenks would look owl-eyed and say: "Mr.

Linane, I'll have to sound you out about that." The heavy accent on the

word "sound" nettled Linane somewhat.

Linane never completely forgave Jenks for putting over this "fast one."

Socially they were always more or less at loggerheads, but neither let

this feeling interfere with their work. They worked together faithfully

enough and each recognized the ability of the other.

And so it was that Linane and Jenks, their heads together, worked all

night in an attempt to find some cause that would tie responsibility

for the disaster on mother nature.

They failed to find it and, sleepy-eyed, they were forced to admit

failure, so far.

The newspapers, to whom Muller had said that he would not shirk any

responsibility, began a hue and cry for the arrest of all parties in any

way concerned with the direction of the building of the Colossus.

When the death list from the crash and subway wreck reached 97, the

press waxed nasty and demanded the arrest of Muller, Linane and Jenks in

no uncertain tones.

Half dead from lack of sleep, the three men were taken by the police to

the district attorney's offices and, after a strenuous grilling, were

formally placed under arrest on charges of criminal negligence. They put

up a $50,000 bond in each case and were permitted to go and seek further

to find the cause of what the newspapers now began calling the "Colossal

Failure."

Several days were spent by Linane and Jenks in examining the wreckage

which was being removed from Times Square, truckload after truckload, to

a point outside the city. Here it was again sorted and examined and

piled for future disposal.

So far as could be found every brick, stone and ounce of material used

in the building was perfect. Attorneys, however, assured Linane, Jenks

and Muller that they would have to find the real cause of the disaster

if they were to escape possible long prison sentences.

Night after night Jenks courted sleep, but it would not come. He began

to grow wan and haggard.

* * * * *

Jenks took to walking the streets at night, mile after mile, thinking,

always thinking, and searching his mind for a solution of the mystery.

It was evening. He had walked past the scene of the Colossus crash

several times. He found himself on a side street. He looked up and saw

in electric lights:

TOWN HALL

_Munsterbergen, the Mad Musician_

Concert Here To-night.

He took five dollars from his pocket and bought a ticket. He entered

with the crowd and was ushered to a seat. He looked neither to the right

or left. His eyes were sunken, his face lined with worry.

Something within Jenks caused him to turn slightly. He was curiously

aware of a beautiful girl who sat beside him. She had a mass of golden

hair which seemed to defy control. It was wild, positively tempestuous.

Her eyes were deep blue and her skin as white as fleecy clouds in

spring. He was dimly conscious that those glorious eyes were troubled.

She glanced at him. She was aware that he was suffering. A great surge

of sympathy welled in her heart. She could not explain the feeling.

A great red plush curtain parted in the center and drew in graceful

folds to the edges of the proscenium. A small stage was revealed.

A tousle-headed man with glaring, beady black eyes, dressed in black

evening clothes stepped forward and bowed. Under his arm was a violin.

He brought the violin forward. His nose, like the beak of some great

bird, bobbed up and down in acknowledgment of the plaudits which greeted

him. His long nervous fingers began to caress the instrument and his

lips began to move.

Jenks was aware that he was saying something, but was not at all

interested. What he said was this:

"Maybe, yes, I couldn't talk so good English, but you could understood

it, yes? Und now I tell you dot I never play the compositions of any

man. I axtemporize exgloosively. I chust blay und blay, und maybe you

should listen, yes? If I bleeze you I am chust happy."

Jenks' attention was drawn to him. He noted his wild appearance.

"He sure looks mad enough," mused Jenks.

* * * * *

The violinist flipped the fiddle up under his chin. He drew the bow over

the strings and began a gentle melody that reminded one of rain drops

falling on calm waters.

Jenks forgot his troubles. He forgot everything. He slumped in his seat

and his eyes closed. The rain continued falling from the strings of the

violin.

Suddenly the melody changed to a glad little lilting measure, as sweet

as love itself. The sun was coming out again and the birds began to

sing. There was the trill of a canary with the sun on its cage. There

was the song of the thrush, the mocking-bird and the meadow lark. These

blended finally into a melodious burst of chirping melody which seemed a

chorus of the wild birds of the forest and glen. Then the lilting love

measure again. It tore at the heart strings, and brought tears to one's

eyes.

Unconsciously the girl next to Jenks leaned towards him. Involuntarily

he leaned to meet her. Their shoulders touched. The cloud of her golden

hair came to rest against his dark locks. Their hands found each other

with gentle pressure. Both were lost to the world.

Abruptly the music changed. There was a succession of broken treble

notes that sounded like the crackling of flames. Moans deep and

melancholy followed. These grew more strident and prolonged, giving

place to abject howls, suggesting the lamentations of the damned.

The hands of the boy and girl gripped tensely. They could not help

shuddering.

The violin began to produce notes of a leering, jeering character,

growing more horrible with each measure until they burst in a loud

guffaw of maniacal laughter.

The whole performance was as if someone had taken a heaven and plunged

it into a hell.

The musician bowed jerkily, and was gone.

* * * * *

There was no applause, only wild exclamations. Half the house was on its

feet. The other half sat as if glued to chairs.

The boy and the girl were standing, their hands still gripping tensely.

"Come, let's get out of here," said Jenks. The girl took her wrap and

Jenks helped her into it. Hand in hand they fled the place.

In the lobby their eyes met, and for the first time they realized they

were strangers. Yet deep in their hearts was a feeling that their fates

had been sealed.

"My goodness!" burst from the girl.

"It can't be helped now," said Jenks decisively.

"What can't be helped?" asked the girl, although she knew in her heart.

"Nothing can be helped," said Jenks. Then he added: "We should know each

other by this time. We have been holding hands for an hour."

The girl's eyes flared. "You have no right to presume on that

situation," she said.

Jenks could have kicked himself. "Forgive me," he said. "It was only

that I just wanted so to know you. Won't you let me see you home?"

"You may," said the girl simply, and she led the way to her own car.

They drove north.

Their bodies seemed like magnets. They were again shoulder to shoulder,

holding hands.

"Will you tell me your name?" pleaded Jenks.

"Surely," replied the girl. "I am Elaine Linane."

"What?" exploded Jenks. "Why, I work with a Linane, an engineer with the

Muller Construction Company."

"He is my father," she said.

"Why, we are great friends," said the boy. "I am Jenks, his

assistant--at least we work together."

"Yes, I have heard of you," said the girl. "It is strange, the way we

met. My father admires your work, but I am afraid you are not great

friends." The girl had forgotten her troubles. She chuckled. She had

heard the way Jenks had "sounded" her father out.

Jenks was speechless. The girl continued:

"I don't know whether to like you or to hate you. My father is an old

dear. You were cruel to him."

Jenks was abject. "I did not mean to be," he said. "He rather belittled

me without realizing it. I had to make my stand. The difference in our

years made him take me rather too lightly. I had to compel his notice,

if I was to advance."

"Oh!" said the girl.

"I am sorry--so sorry."

"You might not have been altogether at fault," said the girl. "Father

forgets at times that I have grown up. I resent being treated like a

child, but he is the soul of goodness and fatherly care."

"I know that," said Jenks.

* * * * *

Every engineer knows his mathematics. It was this fact, coupled with

what the world calls a "lucky break," that solved the Colossus mystery.

Nobody can get around the fact that two and two make four.

Jenks had happened on accomplishment to advance in the engineering

profession, and it was well for him that he had reached a crisis. He had

never believed in luck or in hunches, so it was good for him to be

brought face to face with the fact that sometimes the footsteps of man

are guided. It made him begin to look into the engineering of the

universe, to think more deeply, and to acknowledge a Higher Power.

With Linane he had butted into a stone wall. They were coming to know

what real trouble meant. The fact that they were innocent did not make

the steel bars of a cage any more attractive. Their troubles began to

wrap about them with the clammy intimacy of a shroud. Then came the

lucky break.

Next to his troubles, Jenks' favorite topic was the Mad Musician. He

tried to learn all he could about this uncanny character at whose

concert he had met the girl of his life. He learned two facts that made

him perk up and think.

One was that the Mad Musician had had offices and a studio in the

Colossus and was one of the first to move in. The other was that the Mad

Musician took great delight in shattering glassware with notes of or

vibrations from a violin. Nearly everyone knows that a glass tumbler can

be shattered by the proper note sounded on a violin. The Mad Musician

took delight in this trick. Jenks courted his acquaintance, and saw him

shatter a row of glasses of different sizes by sounding different notes

on his fiddle. The glasses crashed one after another like gelatine balls

hit by the bullets of an expert rifleman.

Then Jenks, the engineer who knew his mathematics, put two and two

together. It made four, of course.

"Listen, Linane," he said to his co-worker: "this fiddler is crazier

than a flock of cuckoos. If he can crack crockery with violin sound

vibrations, is it not possible, by carrying the vibrations to a much

higher power, that he could crack a pile of stone, steel, brick and

cement, like the Colossus?"

"Possible, but hardly probable. Still," Linane mused, "when you think

about it, and put two and two together.... Let's go after him and see

what he is doing now."

Both jumped for their coats and hats. As they fared forth, Jenks cinched

his argument:

"If a madman takes delight in breaking glassware with a vibratory wave

or vibration, how much more of a thrill would he get by crashing a

mountain?"

"Wild, but unanswerable," said Linane.

* * * * *

Jenks had been calling on the Mad Musician at his country place. "He had

a studio in the Colossus," he reminded Linane. "He must have re-opened

somewhere else in town. I wonder where."

"Musicians are great union men," said Linane. "Phone the union."

Teddy Jenks did, but the union gave the last known town address as the

Colossus.

"He would remain in the same district around Times Square," reasoned

Jenks. "Let's page out the big buildings and see if he is not preparing

to crash another one."

"Fair enough," said Linane, who was too busy with the problem at hand to

choose his words.

Together the engineers started a canvass of the big buildings in the

theatrical district. After four or five had been searched without result

they entered the 30-story Acme Theater building.

Here they learned that the Mad Musician had leased a four-room suite

just a few days before. This suite was on the fifteenth floor, just half

way up in the big structure.

They went to the manager of the building and frankly stated their

suspicions. "We want to enter that suite when the tenant is not there,"

they explained, "and we want him forestalled from entering while we are

examining the premises."

"Hadn't we better notify the police?" asked the building manager, who

had broken out in a sweat when he heard the dire disaster which might be

in store for the stately Acme building.

"Not yet," said Linane. "You see, we are not sure: we have just been

putting two and two together."

"We'll get the building detective, anyway," insisted the manager.

"Let him come along, but do not let him know until we are sure. If we

are right we will find a most unusual infernal machine," said Linane.

* * * * *

The three men entered the suite with a pass-key. The detective was left

outside in the hall to halt anyone who might disturb the searchers. It

was as Jenks had thought. In an inner room they found a diabolical

machine--a single string stretched across two bridges, one of brass and

one of wood. A big horsehair bow attached to a shaft operated by a motor

was automatically sawing across the string. The note resulting was

evidently higher than the range of the human ear, because no audible

sound resulted. It was later estimated that the destructive note was

several octaves higher than the highest note on a piano.

The entire machine was enclosed in a heavy wire-net cage, securely

bolted to the floor. Neither the string or bow could be reached. It was

evidently the Mad Musician's idea that the devilish contrivance should

not be reached by hands other than his own.

How long the infernal machine had been operating no one knew, but the

visitors were startled when the building suddenly began to sway

perceptibly. Jenks jumped forward to stop the machine but could not find

a switch.

"See if the machine plugs in anywhere in a wall socket!" he shouted to

Linane, who promptly began examining the walls. Jenks shouted to the

building manager to phone the police to clear the streets around the big

building.

"Tell the police that the Acme Theater building may crash at any

moment," he instructed.

The engineers were perfectly cool in face of the great peril, but the

building manager lost his head completely and began to run around in

circles muttering: "Oh, my God, save me!" and other words of

supplication that blended into an incoherent babel.

Jenks rushed to the man, trying to still his wild hysteria.

The building continued to sway dangerously.

* * * * *

Jenks looked from a window. An enormous crowd was collecting, watching

the big building swinging a foot out of plumb like a giant pendulum. The

crowd was growing. Should the building fall the loss of life would be

appalling. It was mid-morning. The interior of the building teemed with

thousands of workers, for all floors above the third were offices.

Teddy Jenks turned suddenly. He heard the watchman in the hall scream in

terror. Then he heard a body fall. He rushed to the door to see the Mad

Musician standing over the prostrate form of the detective, a devilish

grin on his distorted countenance.

The madman turned, saw Jenks, and started to run. Jenks took after him.

Up the staircase the madman rushed toward the roof. Teddy followed him

two floors and then rushed out to take the elevators. The building in

its mad swaying had made it impossible for the lifts to be operated.

Teddy realized this with a distraught gulp in his throat. He returned to

the stairway and took up the pursuit of the madman.

The corridors were beginning to fill with screaming men and wailing

girls. It was a sight never to be forgotten.

Laboriously Jenks climbed story after story without getting sight of the

madman. Finally he reached the roof. It was waving like swells on a lake

before a breeze. He caught sight of the Mad Musician standing on the

street wall, thirty stories from the street, a leer on his devilish

visage. He jumped for him.

The madman grasped him and lifted him up to the top of the wall as a cat

might have lifted a mouse. Both men were breathing heavily as a result

of their 15-story climb.

The madman tried to throw Teddy Jenks to the street below. Teddy clung

to him. The two battled desperately as the building swayed.

The dense crowd in the street had caught sight of the two men fighting

on the narrow coping, and the shout which rent the air reached the ears

of Jenks.

* * * * *

The mind of the engineer was still working clearly, but a wild fear

gripped his heart. His strength seemed to be leaving him. The madman

pushed him back, bending his spine with brute strength. Teddy was forced

to the narrow ledge that had given the two men footing. The fingers of

the madman gripped his throat.

He was dimly conscious that the swaying of the building was slowing

down. His reason told him that Linane had found the wall socket and had

stopped the sawing of the devil's bow on the engine of hell.

He saw the madman draw a big knife. With his last remaining strength he

reached out and grasped the wrist above the hand which held the weapon.

In spite of all he could do he saw the madman inching the knife nearer

and nearer his throat.

Grim death was peering into the bulging eyes of Teddy Jenks, when his

engineering knowledge came to his rescue. He remembered the top stories

of the Acme building were constructed with a step of ten feet in from

the street line, for every story of construction above the 24th floor.

"If we fall," he reasoned, "we can only fall one story." Then he

deliberately rolled his own body and the weight of the madman, who held

him, over the edge of the coping. At the same time he twisted the

madman's wrist so the point of the knife pointed to the madman's body.

There was a dim consciousness of a painful impact. Teddy had fallen

underneath, but the force of the two bodies coming together had thrust

the knife deep into the entrails of the Mad Musician.

Clouds which had been collecting in the sky began a splattering

downpour. The storm grew in fury and lightning tore the heavens, while

thunder boomed and crackled. The rain began falling in sheets.

* * * * *

This served to revive the unconscious Teddy. He painfully withdrew his

body from under that of the madman. The falling rain, stained with the

blood of the Mad Musician, trickled over the edge of the building.

Teddy dragged himself through a window and passed his hand over his

forehead, which was aching miserably. He tried to get to his feet and

fell back, only to try again. Several times he tried and then, his

strength returning, he was able to walk.

He made his way to the studio where he had left Linane and found him

there surrounded by police, reporters and others. The infernal machine

had been rendered harmless, but was kept intact as evidence.

Catching sight of Teddy, Linane shouted with joy. "I stopped the damned

thing," he chuckled, like a pleased schoolboy. Then, observing Teddy's

exhausted condition he added:

"Why, you look like you have been to a funeral!"

"I have," said Teddy. "You'll find that crazy fiddler dead on the

twenty-ninth story. Look out the window of the thirtieth story," he

instructed the police, who had started to recover the body. "He stabbed

himself. He is either dead or dying."

It proved that he was dead.

No engineering firm is responsible for the actions of a madman. So the

Muller Construction Company was given a clean bill of health.

* * * * *

Jenks and Elaine Linane were with the girl's father in his study. They

were asking for the paternal blessing.

Linane was pretending to be hard to convince.

"Now, my daughter," he said, "this young man takes $500 of my good money

by sounding me out, as he calls it. Then he comes along and tries to

take my daughter away from me. It is positively high-handed. It dates

back to the football game--"

"Daddy, dear, don't be like that!" said Elaine, who was on the arm of

his chair with her own arms around him.

"I tell you, Elaine, this dates back to the fall of 1927."

"It dates back to the fall of Eve," said Elaine. "When a girl finds her

man, no power can keep him from her. If you won't give me to Teddy

Jenks, I'll elope with him."

"Well, all right then. Kiss me," said Linane as he turned towards his

radio set.

"One and one makes one," said Teddy Jenks.

Every engineer knows his mathematics.

* * * * *

_Have you written in to_

ASTOUNDING STORIES

_Yet, to Tell the Editors Just What Kind of Stories You Would

Like Them to Secure for You?_

* * * * *

The Thief of Time

_By Captain S. P. Meek_

The teller turned to the stacked pile of bills. They were gone!

And no one had been near!

[Illustration: "_That man never entered and stole that money as the

picture shows, unless he managed to make himself invisible._"]

Harvey Winston, paying teller of the First National Bank of Chicago,

stripped the band from a bundle of twenty dollar bills, counted out

seventeen of them and added them to the pile on the counter before him.

"Twelve hundred and thirty-one tens," he read from the payroll change

slip before him. The paymaster of the Cramer Packing Company nodded an

assent and Winston turned to the stacked bills in his rear currency

rack. He picked up a handful of bundles and turned back to the grill.

His gaze swept the counter where, a moment before, he had stacked the

twenties, and his jaw dropped.

"You got those twenties, Mr. Trier?" he asked.

"Got them? Of course not, how could I?" replied the paymaster. "There

they are...."

His voice trailed off into nothingness as he looked at the empty

counter.

"I must have dropped them," said Winston as he turned. He glanced back

at the rear rack where his main stock of currency was piled. He stood

paralyzed for a moment and then reached under the counter and pushed a

button.

The bank resounded instantly to the clangor of gongs and huge steel

grills shot into place with a clang, sealing all doors and preventing

anyone from entering or leaving the bank. The guards sprang to their

stations with drawn weapons and from the inner offices the bank

officials came swarming out. The cashier, followed by two men, hurried

to the paying teller's cage.

"What is it, Mr. Winston?" he cried.

"I've been robbed!" gasped the teller.

"Who by? How?" demanded the cashier.

"I--I don't know, sir," stammered the teller. "I was counting out Mr.

Trier's payroll, and after I had stacked the twenties I turned to get

the tens. When I turned back the twenties were gone."

"Where had they gone?" asked the cashier.

"I don't know, sir. Mr. Trier was as surprised as I was, and then I

turned back, thinking that I had knocked them off the counter, and I saw

at a glance that there was a big hole in my back racks. You can see

yourself, sir."

The cashier turned to the paymaster.

"Is this a practical joke, Mr. Trier?" he demanded sharply.

"Of course not," replied the paymaster. "Winston's grill was closed. It

still is. Granted that I might have reached the twenties he had piled

up, how could I have gone through a grill and taken the rest of the

missing money without his seeing me? The money disappeared almost

instantly. It was there a moment before, for I noticed when Winston

took the twenties from his rack that it was full."

"But someone must have taken it," said the bewildered cashier. "Money

doesn't walk off of its own accord or vanish into thin air--"

A bell interrupted his speech.

"There are the police," he said with an air of relief. "I'll let them

in."

* * * * *

The smaller of the two men who had followed the cashier from his office

when the alarm had sounded stepped forward and spoke quietly. His

voice was low and well pitched yet it carried a note of authority and

power that held his auditors' attention while he spoke. The voice

harmonized with the man. The most noticeable point about him was the

inconspicuousness of his voice and manner, yet there was a glint of

steel in his gray eyes that told of enormous force in him.

"I don't believe that I would let them in for a few moments, Mr.

Rogers," he said. "I think that we are up against something a little

different from the usual bank robbery."

"But, Mr. Carnes," protested the cashier, "we must call in the police in

a case like this, and the sooner they take charge the better chance

there will be of apprehending the thief."

"Suit yourself," replied the little man with a shrug of his shoulders.

"I merely offered my advice."

"Will you take charge, Mr. Carnes?" asked the cashier.

"I can't supersede the local authorities in a case like this," replied

Carnes. "The secret service is primarily interested in the suppression

of counterfeiting and the enforcement of certain federal statutes, but I

will be glad to assist the local authorities to the best of my ability,

provided they desire my help. My advice to you would be to keep out the

patrolmen who are demanding admittance and get in touch with the chief

of police. I would ask that his best detective together with an expert

finger-print photographer be sent here before anyone else is admitted.

If the patrolmen are allowed to wipe their hands over Mr. Winston's

counter they may destroy valuable evidence."

"You are right, Mr. Carnes," exclaimed the cashier. "Mr. Jervis, will

you tell the police that there is no violence threatening and ask them

to wait for a few minutes? I'll telephone the chief of police at once."

* * * * *

As the cashier hurried away to his telephone Carnes turned to his

companion who had stood an interested, although silent spectator of the

scene. His companion was a marked contrast to the secret service

operator. He stood well over six feet in height, and his protruding jaw

and shock of unruly black hair combined with his massive shoulders and

chest to give him the appearance of a man who labored with his

hands--until one looked at them. His hands were in strange contrast to

the rest of him. Long, slim, mobile hands they were, with tapering

nervous fingers--the hands of a thinker or of a musician. Telltale

splotches of acid told of hours spent in a laboratory, a tale that was

confirmed by the almost imperceptible stoop of his shoulders.

"Do you agree with my advice, Dr. Bird?" asked Carnes deferentially.

The noted scientist, who from his laboratory in the Bureau of Standards

had sent forth many new things in the realms of chemistry and physics,

and who, incidentally, had been instrumental in solving some of the most

baffling mysteries which the secret service had been called upon to

face, grunted.

"It didn't do any harm," he said, "but it is rather a waste of time. The

thief wore gloves."

"How in thunder do you know that?" demanded Carnes.

"It's merely common sense. A man who can do what he did had at least

some rudiments of intelligence, and even the feeblest-minded crooks know

enough to wear gloves nowadays."

Carnes stepped a little closer to the doctor.

"Another reason why I didn't want patrolmen tramping around," he said in

an undertone, "is this. If Winston gave the alarm quickly enough, the

thief is probably still in the building."

"He's a good many miles away by now," replied Dr. Bird with a shrug of

his shoulders.

* * * * *

Carnes' eyes opened widely. "Why?--how?--who?" he stammered. "Have you

any idea of who did it, or how it was done?"

"Possibly I have an idea," replied Dr. Bird with a cryptic smile. "My

advice to you, Carnes, is to keep away from the local authorities as

much as possible. I want to be present when Winston and Trier are

questioned and I may possibly wish to ask a few questions myself. Use

your authority that far, but no farther. Don't volunteer any information

and especially don't let my name get out. We'll drop the counterfeiting

case we were summoned here on for the present and look into this a

little on our own hook. I will want your aid, so don't get tied up with

the police."

"At that, we don't want the police crossing our trail at every turn,"

protested Carnes.

"They won't," promised the doctor. "They will never get any evidence on

this case, if I am right, and neither will we--for the present. Our

stunt is to lie low and wait for the next attempt of this nature and

thus accumulate some evidence and some idea of where to look."

"Will there be another attempt?" asked Carnes.

"Surely. You don't expect a man who got away with a crime like this to

quit operations just because a few flatfeet run around and make a

hullabaloo about it, do you? I may be wrong in my assumption, but if I

am right, the most important thing is to keep all reference to my name

or position out of the press reports."

The cashier hastened up to them.

"Detective-Captain Sturtevant will be here in a few minutes with a

photographer and some other men," he said. "Is there anything that we

can do in the meantime, Mr. Carnes?"

"I would suggest that Mr. Trier and his guard and Mr. Winston go into

your office," replied Carnes. "My assistant and I would like to be

present during the questioning, if there are no objections."

"I didn't know that you had an assistant with you," answered the

cashier.

Carnes indicated Dr. Bird.

"This gentleman is Mr. Berger, my assistant," he said. "Do you

understand?"

"Certainly. I am sure there will be no objection to your presence, Mr.

Carnes," replied the cashier as he led the way to his office.

* * * * *

A few minutes later Detective-Captain Sturtevant of the Chicago police

was announced. He acknowledged the introductions gruffly and got down to

business at once.

"What were the circumstances of the robbery?" he asked.

Winston told his story, Trier and the guard confirming it.

"Pretty thin!" snorted the detective when they had finished. He whirled

suddenly on Winston.

"Where did you hide the loot?" he thundered.

"Why--uh--er--what do you mean?" gulped the teller.

"Just what I said," replied the detective. "Where did you hide the

loot?"

"I didn't hide it anywhere," said the teller. "It was stolen."

"You had better think up a better one," sneered Sturtevant. "If you

think that you can make me believe that that money was stolen from you

in broad daylight with two men in plain sight of you who didn't see it,

you might just as well get over it. I know that you have some hiding

place where you have slipped the stuff and the quicker you come clean

and spill it, the better it will be for you. Where did you hide it?"

"I didn't hide it!" cried the teller, his voice trembling. "Mr. Trier

can tell you that I didn't touch it from the time I laid it down until I

turned back."

"That's right," replied the paymaster. "He turned his back on me for a

moment, and when he turned back, it was gone."

"So you're in on it too, are you?" said Sturtevant.

"What do you mean?" demanded the paymaster hotly.

"Oh nothing, nothing at all," replied the detective. "Of course Winston

didn't touch it and it disappeared and you never saw it go, although you

were within three feet of it all the time. Did _you_ see anything?" he

demanded of the guard.

"Nothing that I am sure of," answered the guard. "I thought that a

shadow passed in front of me for an instant, but when I looked again, it

was gone."

* * * * *

Dr. Bird sat forward suddenly. "What did this shadow look like?" he

asked.

"It wasn't exactly a shadow," said the guard. "It was as if a person had

passed suddenly before me so quickly that I couldn't see him. I seemed

to feel that there was someone there, but I didn't rightly _see_

anything."

"Did you notice anything of the sort?" demanded the doctor of Trier.

"I don't know," replied Trier thoughtfully. "Now that Williams has

mentioned it, I did seem to feel a breath of air or a motion as though

something had passed in front of me. I didn't think of it at the time."

"Was this shadow opaque enough to even momentarily obscure your vision?"

went on the doctor.

"Not that I am conscious of. It was just a breath of air such as a

person might cause by passing very rapidly."

"What made you ask Trier if he had the money when you turned around?"

asked the doctor of Winston.

"Say-y-y," broke in the detective. "Who the devil are you, and what do

you mean by breaking into my examination and stopping it?"

Carnes tossed a leather wallet on the table.

"There are my credentials," he said in his quiet voice. "I am chief of

one section of the United States Secret Service as you will see, and

this is Mr. Berger, my assistant. We were in the bank, engaged on a

counterfeiting case, when the robbery took place. We have had a good

deal of experience along these lines and we are merely anxious to aid

you."

Sturtevant examined Carnes' credentials carefully and returned them.

"This is a Chicago robbery," he said, "and we have had a little

experience in robberies and in apprehending robbers ourselves. I think

that we can get along without your help."

"You have had more experience with robberies than with apprehending

robbers if the papers tell the truth," said Dr. Bird with a chuckle.

* * * * *

The detective's face flushed.

"That will be enough from you, Mr. Sherlock Holmes," he said. "If you

open your mouth again, I'll arrest you as a material witness and as a

possible accomplice."

"That sounds like Chicago methods," said Carnes quietly. "Now listen to

me, Captain. My assistant and I are merely trying to assist you in this

case. If you don't desire our assistance we'll proceed along our own

lines without interfering, but in the meantime remember that this is a

National Bank, and that our questions will be answered. The United

States is higher than even the Chicago police force, and I am here under

orders to investigate a counterfeiting case. If I desire, I can seal the

doors of this bank and allow no one in or out until I have the evidence

I desire. Do you understand?"

Sturtevant sprang to his feet with an oath, but the sight of the gold

badge which Carnes displayed stopped him.

"Oh well," he said ungraciously. "I suppose that no harm will come of

letting Winston answer your fool questions, but I'll warn you that I'll

report to Washington that you are interfering with the course of justice

and using your authority to aid the getaway of a criminal."

"That is your privilege," replied Carnes quietly. "Mr. Winston, will you

answer Mr. Berger's question?"

"Why, I asked him because he was right close to the money and I thought

that he might have reached through the wicket and picked it up. Then,

too--"

He hesitated for a moment and Dr. Bird smiled encouragingly.

"What else?" he asked.

"Why, I can't exactly tell. It just seemed to me that I had heard the

rustle that bills make when they are pulled across a counter. When I saw

them gone, I thought that he might have taken them. Then when I turned

toward him, I seemed to hear the rustle of bills behind me, although I

knew that I was alone in the cage. When I looked back the money was

gone."

"Did you see or hear anything like a shadow or a person moving?"

"No--yes--I don't know. Just as I turned around it seemed to me that the

rear door to my cage had moved and there may have been a shadow for an

instant. I don't know. I hadn't thought of it before."

"How long after that did you ring the alarm gongs?"

"Not over a second or two."

"That's all," said Dr. Bird.

"If your high and mightiness has no further questions to ask, perhaps

you will let me ask a few," said Sturtevant.

* * * * *

"Go ahead, ask all you wish," replied Dr. Bird with a laugh. "I have all

the information I desire here for the present. I may want to ask other

questions later, but just now I think we'll be going."

"If you find any strange finger-prints on Winston's counter, I'll be

glad to have them compared with our files," said Carnes.

"I am not bothering with finger-prints," snorted the detective. "This is

an open and shut case. There would be lots of Winston's finger-prints

there and no others. There isn't the slightest doubt that this is an

inside case and I have the men I want right here. Mr. Rogers, your bank

is closed for to-day. Everyone in it will be searched and then all those

not needed to close up will be sent away. I will get a squad of men here

to go over your building and locate the hiding place. Your money is

still on the premises unless these men slipped it to a confederate who

got out before the alarm was given. I'll question the guards about that.

If that happened, a little sweating will get it out of them."

"Are you going to arrest me?" demanded Trier in surprise.

"Yes, dearie," answered the detective. "I am going to arrest you and

your two little playmates if these Washington experts will allow me to.

You will save a lot of time and quite a few painful experiences if you

will come clean now instead of later."

"I demand to see my lawyer and to communicate with my firm," said the

paymaster.

"Time enough for that when I am through with you," replied the

detective.

He turned to Carnes.

"Have I your gracious permission to arrest these three criminals?" he

asked.

"Yes indeed, Captain," replied Carnes sweetly. "You have my gracious

permission to make just as big an ass of yourself as you wish. We're

going now."

* * * * *

"By the way, Captain," said Dr. Bird as he followed Carnes out. "When

you get through playing with your prisoners and start to look for the

thief, here is a tip. Look for a left-handed man who has a thorough

knowledge of chemistry and especially toxicology."

"It's easy enough to see that he was left-handed if he pulled that money

out through the grill from the positions occupied by Trier and his

guard, but what the dickens led you to suspect that he is a chemist and

a toxicologist?" asked Carnes as he and the doctor left the bank.

"Merely a shrewd guess, my dear Watson," replied the doctor with a

chuckle. "I am likely to be wrong, but there is a good chance that I am

right. I am judging solely from the method used."

"Have you solved the method?" demanded Carnes in amazement. "What on

earth was it? The more I have thought about it, the more inclined I am

to believe that Sturtevant is right and that it is an inside job. It

seems to me impossible that a man could have entered in broad daylight

and lifted that money in front of three men and within sight of a

hundred more without some one getting a glimpse of him. He must have

taken the money out in a grip or a sack or something like that, yet the

bank record shows that no one but Trier entered with a grip and no one

left with a package for ten minutes before Trier entered."

"There may be something in what you say, Carnes, but I am inclined to

have a different idea. I don't think it is the usual run of bank

robbery, and I would rather not hazard a guess just now. I am going back

to Washington to-night. Before I go any further into the matter, I need

some rather specialized knowledge that I don't possess and I want to

consult with Dr. Knolles. I'll be back in a week or so and then we can

look into that counterfeiting case after we get this disposed of."

"What am I to do?" asked Carnes.

"Sit around the lobby of your hotel, eat three meals a day, and read the

papers. If you get bored, I would recommend that you pay a visit to the

Art Institute and admire the graceful lions which adorn the steps.

Artistic contemplations may well improve your culture."

"All right," replied Carnes. "I'll assume a pensive air and moon at the

lions, but I might do better if you told me what I was looking for."

"You are looking for knowledge, my dear Carnes," said the doctor with a

laugh. "Remember the saying of the sages: To the wise man, no knowledge

is useless."

* * * * *

A huge Martin bomber roared down to a landing at the Maywood airdrome,

and a burly figure descended from the rear cockpit and waved his hand

jovially to the waiting Carnes. The secret service man hastened over to

greet his colleague.

"Have you got that truck I wired you to have ready?" demanded the

doctor.

"Waiting at the entrance; but say, I've got some news for you."

"It can wait. Get a detail of men and help us to unload this ship. Some

of the cases are pretty heavy."

Carnes hurried off and returned with a gang of laborers, who took from

the bomber a dozen heavy packing cases of various sizes, several of them

labelled either "Fragile" or "Inflammable" in large type.

"Where do they go, Doctor?" he asked when the last of them had been

loaded onto the waiting truck.

"To the First National Bank," replied Dr. Bird, "and Casey here goes

with them. You know Casey, don't you, Carnes? He is the best

photographer in the Bureau."

"Shall I go along too?" asked Carnes as he acknowledged the

introduction.

"No need for it. I wired Rogers and he knows the stuff is coming and

what to do with it. Unpack as soon as you get there, Casey, and start

setting up as soon as the bank closes."

"All right, Doctor," replied Casey as he mounted the truck beside the

driver.

"Where do we go, Doctor?" asked Carnes as the truck rolled off.

"To the Blackstone Hotel for a bath and some clean clothes," replied the

doctor. "And now, what is the news you have for me?"

"The news is this, Doctor. I carried out your instructions diligently

and, during the daylight hours, the lions have not moved."

* * * * *

Dr. Bird looked contrite.

"I beg your pardon, Carnes," he said. "I really didn't think when I left

you so mystified how you must have felt. Believe me, I had my own

reasons, excellent ones, for secrecy."

"I have usually been able to maintain silence when asked to," replied

Carnes stiffly.

"My dear fellow, I didn't mean to question your discretion. I know that

whatever I tell you is safe, but there are angles to this affair that

are so weird and improbable that I don't dare to trust my own

conclusions, let alone share them. I'll tell you all about it soon. Did

you get those tickets I wired for?"

"Of course I got them, but what have two tickets to the A. A. U. track

meet this afternoon got to do with a bank robbery?"

"One trouble with you, Carnes," replied the doctor with a judicial air,

"is that you have no idea of the importance of proper relaxation. Is it

possible that you have no desire to see Ladd, this new marvel who is

smashing records right and left, run? He performs for the Illinois

Athletic Club this afternoon, and it would not surprise me to see him

lower the world's record again. He has already lowered the record for

the hundred yard dash from nine and three-fifths to eight and

four-fifths. There is no telling what he will do."

"Are we going to waste the whole afternoon just to watch a man run?"

demanded Carnes in disgust.

"We will see many men run, my dear fellow, but there is only one in

whom I have a deep abiding interest, and that is Mr. Ladd. Have you

your binoculars with you?"

"No."

"Then by all means beg, borrow or steal two pairs before this afternoon.

We might easily miss half the fun without them. Are our seats near the

starting line for the sprints?"

"Yes. The big demand was for seats near the finish line."

"The start will be much more interesting, Carnes. I was somewhat of a

minor star in track myself in my college days and it will be of the

greatest interest to me to observe the starting form of this new speed

artist. Now Carnes, don't ask any more questions. I may be barking up

the wrong tree and I don't want to give you a chance to laugh at me.

I'll tell you what to watch for at the track."

* * * * *

The sprinters lined up on the hundred yard mark and Dr. Bird and Carnes

sat with their glasses glued to their eyes watching the slim figure in

the colors of the Illinois Athletic Club, whose large "62" on his back

identified him as the new star.

"On your mark!" cried the starter. "Get set!"

"Ah!" cried Dr. Bird. "Did you see that Carnes?"

The starting gun cracked and the runners were off on their short grind.

Ladd leaped into the lead and rapidly distanced the field, his legs

twinkling under him almost faster than the eye could follow. He was

fully twenty yards in the lead when his speed suddenly lessened and the

balance of the runners closed up the gap he had opened. His lead was too

great for them, and he was still a good ten yards in the lead when he

crossed the tape. The official time was posted as eight and nine-tenths

seconds.

"Another thirty yards and he would have been beaten," said Carnes as he

lowered his glasses.

"That is the way he has won all of his races," replied the doctor. "He

piles up a huge lead at first and then loses a good deal at the finish.

His speed doesn't hold up. Never mind that, though, it is only an

additional point in my favor. Did you notice his jaws just before the

gun went?"

"They seemed to clench and then he swallowed, but most of them did some

thing like that."

"Watch him carefully for the next heat and see if he puts anything into

his mouth. That is the important thing."

Dr. Bird sank into a brown study and paid no attention to the next few

events, but he came to attention promptly when the final heat of the

hundred yard dash was called. With his glasses he watched Ladd closely

as the runner trotted up to the starting line.

"There, Carnes!" he cried suddenly. "Did you see?"

"I saw him wipe his mouth," said Carnes doubtfully.

"All right, now watch his jaws just before the gun goes."

* * * * *

The final heat was a duplicate of the first preliminary. Ladd took an

early lead which he held for three-fourths of the distance to the tape,

then his pace slackened and he finished only a bare ten yards ahead of

the next runner. The time tied his previous world's record of eight and

four-fifths seconds.

"He crunched and swallowed all right, Doctor," said Carnes.

"That is all I wanted to be sure of. Now Carnes, here is something for

you to do. Get hold of the United States Commissioner and get a John Doe

warrant and go back to the hotel with it and wait for me. I may phone

you at any minute and I may not. If I don't, wait in your room until you

hear from me. Don't leave it for a minute."

"Where are you going, Doctor?"

"I'm going down and congratulate Mr. Ladd. An old track man like me

can't let such an opportunity pass."

"I don't know what this is all about, Doctor," replied Carnes, "but I

know you well enough to obey orders and to keep my mouth shut until it

is my turn to speak."

Few men could resist Dr. Bird when he set out to make a favorable

impression, and even a world's champion is apt to be flattered by the

attention of one of the greatest scientists of his day, especially when

that scientist has made an enviable reputation as an athlete in his

college days and can talk the jargon of the champion's particular sport.

Henry Ladd promptly capitulated to the charm of the doctor and allowed

himself to be led away to supper at Bird's club. The supper passed off

pleasantly, and when the doctor requested an interview with the young

athlete in a private room, he gladly consented. They entered the room

together, remained for an hour and a half, and then came out. The smile

had left Ladd's face and he appeared nervous and distracted. The doctor

talked cheerfully with him but kept a firm grip on his arm as they

descended the stairs together. They entered a telephone booth where the

doctor made several calls, and then descended to the street, where they

entered a taxi.

"Maywood airdrome," the doctor told the driver.

* * * * *

Two hours later the big Martin bomber which had carried the doctor to

Chicago roared away into the night, and Bird turned back, reentered the

taxi, and headed for the city alone.

When Carnes received the telephone call, which was one of those the

doctor made from the booth in his club, he hurried over to the First

National Bank. His badge secured him an entrance and he found Casey

busily engaged in rigging up an elaborate piece of apparatus on one of

the balconies where guards were normally stationed during banking hours.

"Dr. Bird said to tell you to keep on the job all night if necessary,"

he told Casey. "He thinks he will need your machine to-morrow."

"I'll have it ready to turn on the power at four A.M.," replied Casey.

Carnes watched him curiously for a while as he soldered together the

electrical connections and assembled an apparatus which looked like a

motion picture projector.

"What are you setting up?" he asked at length.

"It is a high speed motion picture camera," replied Casey, "with a

telescopic lens. It is a piece of apparatus which Dr. Bird designed

while he was in Washington last week and which I made from his sketches,

using some apparatus we had on hand. It's a dandy, all right."

"What is special about it?"

"The speed. You know how fast an ordinary movie is taken, don't you? No?

Well, it's sixteen exposures per second. The slow pictures are taken

sometimes at a hundred and twenty-eight or two hundred and fifty-six

exposures per second, and then shown at sixteen. This affair will take

half a million pictures per second."

"I didn't know that a film would register with that short an exposure."

* * * * *

"That's slow," replied Casey with a laugh. "It all depends on the light.

The best flash-light powder gives a flash about one ten-thousandth of a

second in duration, but that is by no means the speed limit of the film.

The only trouble is enough light and sufficient shutter speed. Pictures

have been taken by means of spark photography with an exposure of less

than one three-millionth of a second. The whole secret of this machine

lies in the shutter. This big disc with the slots in the edge is set up

before the lens and run at such a speed that half a million slots per

second pass before the lens. The film, which is sixteen millimeter

X-ray film, travels behind the lens at a speed of nearly five miles per

second. It has to be gradually worked up to this speed, and after the

whole thing is set up, it takes it nearly four hours to get to full

speed."

"At that speed, it must take a million miles of film before you get up

steam."

"It would, if the film were being exposed. There is only about a hundred

yards of film all told, which will run over these huge drums in an

endless belt. There is a regular camera shutter working on an electric

principle which remains closed. When the switch is tripped, the shutter

opens in about two thirty-thousandths of a second, stays open just one

one-hundredth of a second, and then closes. This time is enough to

expose nearly all of our film. When we have our picture, I shut the

current down, start applying a magnetic brake, and let it slow down. It

takes over an hour to stop it without breaking the film. It sounds

complicated, but it works all right."

"Where is your switch?"

* * * * *

"That is the trick part of it. It is a remote control affair. The

shutter opens and starts the machine taking pictures when the back door

of the paying teller's cage is opened half an inch. There is also a hand

switch in the line that can be opened so that you can open the door

without setting off the camera, if you wish. When the hand switch is

closed and the door opened, this is what happens. The shutter on the

camera opens, the machine takes five thousand pictures during the next

hundredth of a second, and then the shutter closes. Those five thousand

exposures will take about five minutes to show at the usual rate of

sixteen per second."

"You said that you had to get plenty of light. How are you managing

that?"

"The camera is equipped with a special lens ground out of rock crystal.

This lens lets in ultra-violet light which the ordinary lens shuts out,

and X-ray film is especially sensitive to ultra-violet light. In order

to be sure that we get enough illumination, I will set up these two

ultra-violet floodlights to illumine the cage. The teller will have to

wear glasses to protect his eyes and he'll get well sunburned, but

something has to be sacrificed to science, as Dr. Bird is always telling

me."

"It's too deep for me," said Carnes with a sigh. "Can I do anything to

help? The doctor told me to stand by and do anything I could."

"I might be able to use you a little if you can use tools," said Casey

with a grin. "You can start bolting together that light proof shield if

you want to."

* * * * *

"Well, Carnes, did you have an instructive night?" asked Dr. Bird

cheerfully as he entered the First National Bank at eight-thirty the

next morning.

"I don't see that I did much good, Doctor. Casey would have had the

machine ready on time anyway, and I'm no machinist."

"Well, frankly, Carnes, I didn't expect you to be of much help to him,

but I did want you to see what Casey was doing, and a little of it was

pretty heavy for him to handle alone. I suppose that everything is

ready?"

"The motor reached full speed about fifteen minutes ago and Casey went

out to get a cup of coffee. Would you mind telling me the object of the

whole thing?"

"Not at all. I plan to make a permanent record of the work of the most

ingenious bank robber in the world. I hope he keeps his word."

"What do you mean?"

"Three days ago when Sturtevant sweated a 'confession' out of poor

Winston, the bank got a message that the robbery would be repeated this

morning and dared them to prevent it. Rogers thought it was a hoax, but

he telephoned me and I worked the Bureau men night and day to get my

camera ready in time for him. I am afraid that I can't do much to

prevent the robbery, but I may be able to take a picture of it and thus

prevent other cases of a like nature."

"Was the warning written?"

"No. It was telephoned from a pay station in the loop district, and by

the time it was traced and men got there, the telephoner was probably a

mile away. He said that he would rob the same cage in the same manner as

he did before."

"Aren't you taking any special precautions?"

"Oh, yes, the bank is putting on extra guards and making a lot of fuss

of that sort, probably to the great amusement of the robber."

"Why not close the cage for the day?"

"Then he would rob a different one and we would have no way of

photographing his actions. To be sure, we will put dummy money there,

bundles with bills on the outside and paper on the inside, so if I don't

get a picture of him, he won't get much. Every bill in the cage will be

marked as well."

"Did he say at what time he would operate?"

"No, he didn't, so we'll have to stand by all day. Oh, hello, Casey, is

everything all right?"

"As sweet as chocolate candy, Doctor. I have tested it out thoroughly,

and unless we have to run it so long that the film wears out and breaks,

we are sitting pretty. If we don't get the pictures you are looking for,

I'm a dodo, and I haven't been called that yet."

"Good work, Casey. Keep the bearings oiled and pray that the film

doesn't break."

* * * * *

The bank had been opened only ten minutes when the clangor of gongs

announced a robbery. It was practically a duplicate of the first. The

paying teller had turned from his window to take some bills from his

rack and had found several dozens of bundles missing. As the gongs

sounded, Dr. Bird and Casey leaped to the camera.

"She snapped, Doctor!" cried Casey as he threw two switches. "It'll take

an hour to stop and half a day to develop the film, but I ought to be

able to show you what we got by to-night."

"Good enough!" cried Dr. Bird. "Go ahead while I try to calm down the

bank officials. Will you have everything ready by eight o'clock?"

"Easy, Doctor," replied Casey as he turned to the magnetic brake.

By eight o'clock quite a crowd had assembled in a private room at the

Blackstone Hotel. Besides Dr. Bird and Carnes, Rogers and several other

officials of the First National Bank were present, together with

Detective-Captain Sturtevant and a group of the most prominent

scientists and physicians gathered from the schools of the city.

"Gentlemen," said Dr. Bird when all had taken seats facing a miniature

moving picture screen on one wall, "to-night I expect to show you some

pictures which will, I am sure, astonish you. It marks the advent of a

new departure in transcendental medicine. I will be glad to answer any

questions you may wish to ask and to explain the pictures after they are

shown, but before we start a discussion, I will ask that you examine

what I have to show you. Lights out, please!"

He stepped to the rear of the room as the lights went out. As his eyes

grew used to the dimness of the room he moved forward and took a vacant

seat. His hand fumbled in his pocket for a second.

"Now!" he cried suddenly.

In the momentary silence which followed his cry, two dull metallic

clicks could be heard, and a quick cry that was suddenly strangled as

Dr. Bird clamped his hand over the mouth of the man who sat between him

and Carnes.

"All right, Casey," called the doctor.

* * * * *

The whir of a projection machine could be heard and on the screen before

them leaped a picture of the paying teller's cage of the First National

Bank. Winston's successor was standing motionless at the wicket, his

lips parted in a smile, but the attention of all was riveted on a figure

who moved at the back of the cage. As the picture started, the figure

was bent over an opened suitcase, stuffing into it bundles of bills. He

straightened up and reached to the rack for more bills, and as he did so

he faced the camera full for a moment. He picked up other bundles of

bills, filled the suitcase, fastened it in a leisurely manner, opened

the rear door of the cage and walked out.

"Again, please!" called Dr. Bird. "And stop when he faces us full."

The picture was repeated and stopped at the point indicated.

"Lights, please!" cried the doctor.

The lights flashed on and Dr. Bird rose to his feet, pulling up after

him the wilted figure of a middle-aged man.

"Gentlemen," said the doctor in ringing tones, "allow me to present to

you Professor James Kirkwood of the faculty of the Richton University,

formerly known as James Collier of the Bureau of Standards, and robber

of the First National Bank."

Detective-Captain Sturtevant jumped to his feet and cast a searching

glance at the captive.

"He's the man all right," he cried. "Hang on to him until I get a wagon

here!"

"Oh, shut up!" said Carnes. "He's under federal arrest just now, charged

with the possession of narcotics. When we are through with him, you can

have him if you want him."

"How did you get that picture, Doctor?" cried the cashier. "I watched

that cage every minute during the morning and I'll swear that man never

entered and stole that money as the picture shows, unless he managed to

make himself invisible."

* * * * *

"You're closer to the truth than you suspect, Mr. Rogers," said Dr.

Bird. "It is not quite a matter of invisibility, but something pretty

close to it. It is a matter of catalysts."

"What kind of cats?" asked the cashier.

"Not cats, Mr. Rogers, catalysts. Catalysts is the name of a chemical

reaction consisting essentially of a decomposition and a new combination

effected by means of a catalyst which acts on the compound bodies in

question, but which goes through the reaction itself unchanged. There

are a great many of them which are used in the arts and in

manufacturing, and while their action is not always clearly understood,

the results are well known and can be banked on.

"One of the commonest instances of the use of a catalyst is the use of

sponge platinum in the manufacture of sulphuric acid. I will not burden

you with the details of the 'contact' process, as it is known, but the

combination is effected by means of finely divided platinum which is

neither changed, consumed or wasted during the process. While there are

a number of other catalysts known, for instance iron in reactions in

which metallic magnesium is concerned, the commonest are the metals of

the platinum group.

"Less is known of the action of catalysts in the organic reactions, but

it has been the subject of intensive study by Dr. Knolles of the Bureau

of Standards for several years. His studies of the effects of different

colored lights, that is, rays of different wave-lengths, on the

reactions which constitute growth in plants have had a great effect on

hothouse forcing of plants and promise to revolutionize the truck

gardening industry. He has speeded up the rate of growth to as high as

ten times the normal rate in some cases.

"A few years ago, he and his assistant, James Collier, turned their

attention toward discovering a catalyst which would do for the metabolic

reactions in animal life what his light rays did for plants. What his

method was, I will not disclose for obvious reasons, but suffice it to

say that he met with great success. He took a puppy and by treating it

with his catalytic drugs, made it grow to maturity, pass through its

entire normal life span, and die of old age in six months."

* * * * *

"That is very interesting, Doctor, but I fail to see what bearing it has

on the robbery."

"Mr. Rogers, how, on a dark day and in the absence of a timepiece, would

you judge the passage of time?"

"Why, by my stomach, I guess."

"Exactly. By your metabolic rate. You eat a meal, it digests, you expend

the energy which you have taken into your system, your stomach becomes

empty and your system demands more energy. You are hungry and you judge

that some five or six hours must have passed since you last ate. Do you

follow?"

"Certainly."

"Let us suppose that by means of some tonic, some catalytic drug, your

rate of metabolism and also your rate of expenditure of energy has been

increased six fold. You would eat a meal and in one hour you would be

hungry again. Having no timepiece, and assuming that you were in a

light-proof room, you would judge that some five hours had passed, would

you not?"

"I expect so."

"Very well. Now suppose that this accelerated rate of digestion and

expenditure of energy continued. You would be sleepy in perhaps three

hours, would sleep about an hour and a quarter, and would then wake,

ready for your breakfast. In other words, you would have lived through a

day in four hours."

"What advantage would there be in that?"

"None, from your standpoint. It would, however, increase the rate of

reproduction of cattle greatly and might be a great boom to agriculture,

but we will not discuss this phase now. Suppose it were possible to

increase your rate of metabolism and expenditure of energy, in other

words, your rate of living, not six times, but thirty thousand times. In

such a case you would live five minutes in one one-hundredth of a

second."

"Naturally, and you would live a year in about seventeen and one-half

minutes, and a normal lifespan of seventy years in about twenty hours.

You would be as badly off as any common may-fly."

* * * * *

"Agreed, but suppose that you could so regulate the dose of your

catalyst that its effect would last for only one one-hundredth of a

second. During that short period of time, you would be able to do the

work that would ordinarily take you five minutes. In other words, you

could enter a bank, pack a satchel with currency and walk out. You would

be working in a leisurely manner, yet your actions would have been so

quick that no human eye could have detected them. This is my theory of

what actually took place. For verification, I will turn to Dr. Kirkwood,

as he prefers to be known now."

"I don't know how you got that picture, but what you have said is about

right," replied the prisoner.

"I got that picture by using a speed of thirty thousand times the normal

sixteen exposures per second," replied Dr. Bird. "That figure I got from

Dr. Knolles, the man who perfected the secret you stole when you left

the Bureau three years ago. You secured only part of it and I suppose it

took all your time since to perfect and complete it. You gave yourself

away when you experimented on young Ladd. I was a track man myself in my

college days and when I saw an account of his running, I smelt a rat, so

I came back and watched him. As soon as I saw him crush and swallow a

capsule just as the gun was fired, I was sure, and got hold of him. He

was pretty stubborn, but he finally told me what name you were running

under now, and the rest was easy. I would have got you in time anyway,

but your bravado in telling us when you would next operate gave me the

idea of letting you do it and photographing you at work. That is all I

have to say. Captain Sturtevant, you can take your prisoner whenever you

want him."

* * * * *

"I reckoned without you, Dr. Bird, but the end hasn't come yet. You may

send me up for a few years, but you'll never find that money. I'm sure

of that."

"Tut, tut, Professor," laughed Carnes. "Your safety deposit box in the

Commercial National is already sealed until a court orders it opened.

The bills you took this morning were all marked, so that is merely

additional proof, if we needed it. You surely didn't think that such a

transparent device as changing your name from 'James Collier' to 'John

Collyer' and signing with your left hand instead of your right would

fool the secret service, did you? Remember, your old Bureau records

showed you to be ambidextrous."

"What about Winston's confession?" asked Rogers suddenly.

"Detective-Captain Sturtevant can explain that to a court when Mr.

Winston brings suit against him for false arrest and brutal treatment,"

replied Carnes.

"A very interesting case, Carnes," remarked the doctor a few hours

later. "It was an enjoyable interlude in the routine of most of the

cases on which you consult me, but our play time is over. We'll have to

get after that counterfeiting case to-morrow."

* * * * *

IN THE NEXT ISSUE

BRIGANDS OF THE MOON

_Beginning an Amazing Four-part Interplanetary Novel_

By RAY CUMMINGS

THE SOUL MASTER

_A Thrilling Novelette of the Substitution of Personality_

By WILL SMITH and R. J. ROBBINS

COLD LIGHT

_An Extraordinary Scientific Mystery_

By CAPT. S. P. MEEK

--_AND MANY OTHER STORIES, OF COURSE_

* * * * *

[Illustration: "_She is Yours, Master!_"]

Sick at heart, the trembling girl shuddered at the words that delivered

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man of mighty power whose face none had yet seen?

Here is an _extraordinary situation_. What was to be the fate of

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really knew?

_To know the answer to this and the most exciting tales of Oriental

adventure and mystery ever told, read on through the most thrilling,

absorbing, entertaining and fascinating pages ever written._

Masterpieces of Oriental Mystery

11 Superb Volumes by SAX ROHMER

Written with his uncanny knowledge of things Oriental

* * * * *

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14 sales in 2 hours

J. J. Corwin, Ariz., says: "Send more order books. I sold first 14

orders in 2 hours."

SPARE TIME

Big Money Spare Time

Bart, W. Va. says:

"Was only out a few evenings, and got 20 orders."

CENTRAL STATES MFG. CO., Dept. B-2403

4500 Mary Ave. (Est. over 20 years) St. Louis, Mo.

* * * * *

SPEEDO

Central States Mfg. Co.,

4500 Mary Ave. Dept. B-2403

St. Louis, Mo.

Yes, rush me the facts and details of your FREE OFFER.

Name ........................................

Address .....................................

City ...................... State ...........

[ ] Check here if interested only in one for your home.

* * * * *

Please mention NEWSSTAND GROUP--MEN'S LIST, when answering

advertisements

* * * * *

Half a Million People

_have learned music this easy way_

[Illustration]

You, too, Can Learn to Play Your Favorite Instrument Without a Teacher

_Easy as_ A-B-C

Yes, half a million delighted men and women all over the world have

learned music this quick, easy way.

Half a million--500,000--what a gigantic orchestra they would make! Some

are playing on the stage, others in orchestras, and many thousands are

daily enjoying the pleasure and popularity of being able to play some

instrument.

Surely this is convincing proof of the success of the _new, modern

method_ perfected by the U.S. School of Music! And what these people

have done, YOU, too, can do!

Many of this half million didn't know one note from another--others had

never touched an instrument--yet in half the usual time they learned to

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_amazingly_ easy. No monotonous hours of exercises--no tedious

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music as easy as A-B-C!

It is like a fascinating game. From the very start you are playing

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No private teacher could make it clearer. Little theory--plenty of

accomplishment. That's why students of the U.S. School of Music get

ahead twice as fast--_three times as fast_ as those who study

old-fashioned, plodding methods.

You don't need any special "talent." Many of the half-million who have

already become accomplished players never dreamed they possessed musical

ability. They only wanted to play some instrument--just like you--and

they found they could quickly learn how this easy way. Just a little of

your spare time each day is needed--and you enjoy every minute of it.

The cost is surprisingly low--averaging only a few cents a day--and the

price is the same for whatever instrument you choose. And remember, you

are studying right in your own home--without paying big fees to private

teachers.

Don't miss any more good times! Learn now to play your favorite

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the center of attraction. Music is the best thing to offer at a

party--musicians are invited everywhere. Enjoy the popularity you have

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Start now!

Free Booklet and Demonstration Lesson

If you are in earnest about wanting to join the crowd of entertainers

and be a "big hit" at any party--if you really _do_ want to play your

favorite instrument, to become a performer whose services will be in

demand--fill out and mail the convenient coupon asking for our Free

Booklet and Free Demonstration Lesson. These explain our wonderful

method fully and show you how easily and quickly you can learn to play

at little expense. This booklet will also tell you all about the amazing

new _Automatic Finger Control_. Instruments are supplied when

needed--cash or credit, U.S. School of Music 3692 Brunswick Bldg., New

York City.

WHAT INSTRUMENT FOR YOU?

Piano

Organ

Violin

Clarinet

Flute

Harp

Coronet

'Cello

Guitar

Ukulele

Saxophone

Banjo, (Plectrum 5-String or Tenor)

Piccolo

Hawaiian Steel Guitar

Drums and Traps

Mandolin

Sight Singing

Trombone

Piano

Accordion

Voice and Speech Culture

Harmony and Composition

Automatic Finger Control

Italian and German Accordion

* * * * *

U.S. SCHOOL OF MUSIC,

3692 Brunswick Bldg., New York City.

Please send me your free book, "Music Lessons in Your Own Home," with

introduction by Dr. Frank Crane, Free Demonstration Lesson, and

particulars of your easy payment plan. I am interested in the following

course:

Have you an instrument: .........

Name ........................................

Address .....................................

City ...................... State ...........

* * * * *

Please mention NEWSSTAND GROUP--MEN'S LIST, when answering

advertisements

* * * * *

Only 28 years old and earning $15,000 a year

[Illustration: _Works in Shoe Factory_]

W. T. Carson was forced to leave school at an early age. His help was

needed at home. He took a "job" in a shoe factory in Huntington, W. Va.,

at $12 a week.

[Illustration: _Starts Studying at Home_]

Carson determined to make something of himself before it was too late,

so he took up a course with the International Correspondence Schools and

studied in spare time.

[Illustration: _Now Owns Big Business_]

Today W. T. Carson is the owner of one of the largest battery service

stations in West Virginia, with an income of $15,000 a year. And he is

only 28 years old!

[Illustration: _Lectures at College_]

Just a few months ago a large college asked Carson to lecture before a

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course.

[Illustration: _How to Earn More Money_]

If the I. C. S. can smooth the path to success for men like W. T. Carson

it can help you. If it can help other men to earn more money it can help

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[Illustration: _The Boss is Watching You_]

Show him you are ambitious and are really trying to get ahead. Decide

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and what it can do for you.

=INTERNATIONAL CORRESPONDENCE SCHOOLS. Box 2124-E, Scranton, Penns.=

Without cost or obligation, please send me a copy of your booklet, "=Who

Wins and Why=," and full particulars about the course _before_ which I

have marked X in the list below:

BUSINESS TRAINING COURSES

[ ] Business Management

[ ] Industrial Management

[ ] Personnel Management

[ ] Traffic Management

[ ] Accounting and C.P.A. Coaching

[ ] Cost Accounting

[ ] Bookkeeping

[ ] Secretarial Work

[ ] Spanish

[ ] French

[ ] Salesmanship

[ ] Advertising

[ ] Business Correspondence

[ ] Show Card and Sign Lettering

[ ] Stenography and Typing

[ ] English

[ ] Civil Service

[ ] Railway Mail Clerk

[ ] Mail Carrier

[ ] Grade School Subjects

[ ] High School Subjects

[ ] Cartooning

[ ] Illustrating

[ ] Lumber Dealer

TECHNICAL AND INDUSTRIAL COURSES

[ ] Architect

[ ] Architectural Draftsman

[ ] Building Foreman

[ ] Concrete Builder

[ ] Contractor and Builder

[ ] Structural Draftsman

[ ] Structural Engineer

[ ] Electrical Engineer

[ ] Electrical Contractor

[ ] Electric Wiring

[ ] Electric Lighting

[ ] Electric Car Running

[ ] Telegraph Engineer

[ ] Telephone Work

[ ] Mechanical Engineer

[ ] Mechanical Draftsman

[ ] Machine Shop Practice

[ ] Toolmaker

[ ] Patternmaker

[ ] Civil Engineer

[ ] Surveying and Mapping

[ ] Bridge Engineer

[ ] Gas Engine Operating

[ ] Automobile Work

[ ] Aviation Engines

[ ] Plumber and Steam Fitter

[ ] Plumbing Inspector

[ ] Foreman Plumber

[ ] Heating and Ventilation

[ ] Sheet-Metal Worker

[ ] Steam Engineer

[ ] Marine Engineer

[ ] Refrigeration Engineer

[ ] R.R. Positions

[ ] Highway Engineer

[ ] Chemistry

[ ] Pharmacy

[ ] Mining Engineer

[ ] Navigation

[ ] Assayer

[ ] Iron and Steel Worker

[ ] Textile Overseer or Supt.

[ ] Cotton Manufacturing

[ ] Woolen Manufacturing

[ ] Agriculture

[ ] Fruit Growing

[ ] Poultry Farming

[ ] Mathematics

[ ] Radio

Name ................. Address ..............

City ...................... State ...........

* * * * *

Please mention NEWSSTAND GROUP--MEN'S LIST, when answering

advertisements

* * * * *

LET RCA INSTITUTES START YOU ON THE ROAD TO ... SUCCESS IN RADIO

[Illustration: Radio-Mechanic and Inspector $1800 to $4000 a Year.]

[Illustration: Broadcast Station Mechanic $1800 to $3600 a Year.]

[Illustration: Land Station Operator $1800 to $4000 a Year.]

[Illustration: Broadcast Operators $1800 to $4800 a Year.]

_Radio needs you_.... That's why the entire Radio industry is calling

for trained men. Radio is thrilling work ... easy hours, vacations with

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RCA sets the standards for the entire Radio industry.... The RCA

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You learn Radio by actual experience with the remarkable outlay of

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For the added convenience of students who prefer a Resident

Study Course, RCA Institutes, Inc., has established Resident Schools in

the following cities:

New York 326 Broadway

Boston, Mass. 899 Boylston St.

Philadelphia, Pa. 1211 Chestnut St.

Baltimore, Md. 1215 N. Charles St.

Newark, N.J. 560 Broad St.

Home Study graduates may also attend any one of our resident schools for

post-graduate instruction at no extra charge.

_Graduates of RCA Institutes Find It Easier to Get Good Jobs_

Students of RCA Institutes get first-hand knowledge, get it quickly and

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_Study Radio at the Oldest and Largest Commercial Training Organization

in the World_

Send for this Free Book ... or step in at any of our resident schools

and see for yourself how thousands of men are already on the road to

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The man who trains today will hold down the big-money Radio job of the

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Everything you want to know about Radio. 40 fascinating pages, packed

with pictures and descriptions of the brilliant opportunities in this

gigantic, world-wide money-making profession.

=SEND FOR IT TODAY!=

Clip this Coupon _NOW_!

SPONSORED BY

RCA INSTITUTES, INC.

Formerly

Radio Institute of America

[Illustration: RCA]

* * * * *

RCA INSTITUTES, Inc.

Dept. NS-2, 326 Broadway,

New York, N.Y.

Gentlemen: Please send me your FREE 40-page book which illustrates the

brilliant opportunities in Radio and describes your laboratory-method of

instruction at home!

Name ........................................

Address .....................................

* * * * *

Please mention NEWSSTAND GROUP--MEN'S LIST, when answering

advertisements

* * * * *

"INTO THE AFRICAN BLUE"

_High Spots in the Life of a Big Game Photographer_

_By_ MARTIN JOHNSON

[Illustration]

"Into the African Blue" is Africa--the land of romance--of adventure.

African big game is rapidly being shot off; the end is in sight, and it

is for the purpose of recording in pictures and in story the remarkable

wild life which soon must vanish, that Martin and Osa Johnson undertake

their safaris into the remotest corners of the "Blue."

Johnson's photographs are magnificent! They portray the primitive drama

of the wilderness. We see close-ups of elephants and giraffes suckling

their young; lions lolling in the broiling sun or disputing possession

of a zebra kill. We are introduced into the inner family circle of

rhinos, leopards, eland, oryx, gazelle and others--all unconscious of

the nearby presence of man. And there are, of course, thrilling moments

when a cantankerous rhino, elephant or lion resents the intrusion and

charges the camera with deadly intent.

=This thrilling serial, profusely illustrated with photographs by the

author, began in the December issue of FOREST and STREAM. Follow Martin

and Osa Johnson through the Soudan, the Congo, Kenya and Tanganyika;

share their adventures=--

Forest and Stream

80 Lafayette Street, New York, N.Y.

SPECIAL OFFER

In addition to this thrilling serial, which in book form would cost not

less than $3.00, the next six issues of FOREST and STREAM will contain

much of interest to the outdoorsman--angler, hunter, camper and nature

lover.

FOREST and STREAM brings to you the best outdoor literature written by

the foremost authorities in their respective fields. By making use of

the coupon to the left you can secure six issues of FOREST and STREAM

containing the complete story "Into the African Blue" for the special

price of $1.00, and you will receive in addition to the magazine and

without extra cost volumes 1 and 2 of the Sportsmen's Encyclopedia, an

invaluable reference book which presents in handy form accurate and

comprehensive information on every branch of outdoor sport.

Send in the coupon--"_DO IT NOW!_"

* * * * *

Department C

Here's my $1.00. I want the 6 issues beginning with the December number,

and Vols. 1 and 2 of the Sportsmen's Encyclopedia.

...............................................

...............................................

...............................................

* * * * *

Please mention NEWSSTAND GROUP--MEN'S LIST, when answering

advertisements

* * * * *

I Will Train You at Home to Fill a Big-Pay Radio Job

_Here's the_ PROOF

=$375 One Month In Spare Time=

"Recently I made $375 in one month in my spare time installing,

servicing, selling Radio Sets."

Earle Cummings,

18 Webster St.,

Haverhill, Mass.

=$450 a Month=

"I work in what I believe to be the largest and best-equipped Radio shop

in the Southwest and also operate KGFI. I am averaging $450 a month."

Frank M. Jones,

922 Guadalupe St.,

San Angelo, Tex.

[Illustration]

You can build 100 circuits with the six big outfits of

Radio parts I give you

_3 of the 100 you can build_

_Find out quick about this practical way to big pay_

If you are earning a penny less than $50 a week, send for my book of

information on the opportunities in Radio. It's FREE. Clip the coupon

NOW. A flood of gold is pouring into Radio, creating hundreds of big-pay

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information on these big jobs and explains how you can quickly learn

Radio through my easy, practical home-study training.

Salaries of $50 to $250 a Week Not Unusual

The amazing growth of Radio has astounded the world. In a few short

years three hundred thousand jobs have been created. And the biggest

growth is still to come. That's why salaries of $50 to $250 a week are

not unusual. Radio simply hasn't got nearly the number of thoroughly

trained men it needs.

You Can Learn Quickly and Easily in Spare Time

Hundreds of N. R. I. trained men are today making big money--holding

down big jobs--in the Radio field. You, too, should get into Radio. You

can stay home, hold your job and learn in your spare time. Lack of high

school education or Radio experience are no drawbacks.

Many Earn $15, $20, $30 Weekly On the Side While Learning

I teach you to begin making money shortly after you enroll. My new

practical method makes this possible. I give you SIX BIG OUTFITS of

Radio parts and teach you to build practically every type of receiving

set known. M. E. Sullivan, 412 73rd St., Brooklyn, N.Y., writes: "I made

$720 while studying." G. W. Page, 1807 21st Ave. S., Nashville, Tenn.,

"I picked up $935 in my spare time while studying."

Your Money Back If Not Satisfied

My course fits you for all lines--manufacturing, selling, servicing

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give you.

Act NOW--NEW 64-Page Book is FREE

[Illustration: RADIO NEEDS TRAINED MEN!]

Send for this big book of Radio information. It has put hundreds of

fellows on the road to bigger pay and success. Get it. See what Radio

offers you, and how my Employment Department helps you get into Radio

after you graduate. Clip or tear out the coupon and mail it RIGHT NOW.

J. E. Smith, President, Dept. OBM

National Radio Institute

Washington, D.C.

Employment Service to all Graduates

Originators of Radio Home Study Training

* * * * *

Mail This FREE COUPON Today

J. E. Smith, President,

Dept. OBM, National Radio Institute,

Washington, D.C.

Dear Mr. Smith: Send me your Free book "Rich Rewards in Radio," giving

information on the big-money opportunities in Radio and your practical

method of teaching with six Radio Outfits. I understand this places me

under no obligation.

Name ......................... Age ..........

Address .....................................

City ...................... State ...........

* * * * *

Please mention NEWSSTAND GROUP--MEN'S LIST, when answering

advertisements

* * * * *

_A Year's Protection Against_ SICKNESS

Less than 3c a Day!

_A Year's Protection Against_ ACCIDENT

[Illustration: CASH _or sympathy_?]

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Suppose you met with an accident or sickness to-night--salary

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In case of your accidental death, which would you rather give your

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Would you rather pay bills and household expenses out of a slim savings

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=$10 bill=

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_Get Cash instead of Sympathy_

If you met with an accident in your home, on the street, or road, in the

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While you are reading this warning, somewhere some ghastly tragedy is

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