Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
ASTOUNDING
STORIES
OF SUPER-SCIENCE
_On Sale the First Thursday of Each Month_
W. M. CLAYTON, Publisher
HARRY BATES, Editor
DOUGLAS M. DOLD, Consulting Editor
The Clayton Standard on a Magazine Guarantees
_That_ the stories therein are clean, interesting, vivid, by leading
writers of the day and purchased under conditions approved by
the Authors' League of America;
_That_ such magazines are manufactured in Union shops by American
workmen;
_That_ each newsdealer and agent is insured a fair profit;
_That_ an intelligent censorship guards their advertising pages.
_The other Clayton magazines are:_
ACE-HIGH MAGAZINE, RANCH ROMANCES, COWBOY STORIES, CLUES, FIVE-NOVELS
MONTHLY, ALL STAR DETECTIVE STORIES, RANGELAND LOVE STORY MAGAZINE,
and WESTERN ADVENTURES.
_More than Two Million Copies Required to Supply the Monthly Demand
for Clayton Magazines._
* * * * *
VOL. IV, No. 1 CONTENTS OCTOBER, 1930
COVER DESIGN H. W. WESSOLOWSKI
_Painted in Oils from a Scene in "The Invisible Death."_
STOLEN BRAINS CAPTAIN S. P. MEEK 7
_Dr. Bird, Scientific Sleuth Extraordinary, Goes After a Sinister
Stealer of Brains._
THE INVISIBLE DEATH VICTOR ROUSSEAU 24
_With Night-Rays and Darkness-Antidote America Strikes Back, at the
Terrific and Destructive Invisible Empire._ (A Complete Novelette.)
PRISONERS ON THE ELECTRON ROBERT H. LEITFRED 75
_Fate Throws Two Young Earthians into Desperate Conflict with the
Primeval Monsters of an Electron's Savage Jungles._
JETTA OF THE LOWLANDS RAY CUMMINGS 94
_Into Remote Lowlands, in an Invisible Flyer, Go Grant and
Jetta--Prisoners of a Scientific Depth Bandit._
(Part Two of a Three-Part Novel.)
AN EXTRA MAN JACKSON GEE 118
_Sealed and Vigilantly Guarded Was "Drayle's Invention, 1932"--for
It Was a Scientific Achievement Beyond Which Man Dared Not Go._
THE READERS' CORNER ALL OF US 130
_A Meeting Place for Readers of Astounding Stories._
* * * * *
Single Copies, 20 Cents (In Canada, 25 Cents) Yearly Subscription,
$2.00
Issued monthly by Publishers' Fiscal Corporation, 80 Lafayette St.,
New York, N. Y. W. M. Clayton, President; Nathan Goldmann, Secretary.
Entered as second-class matter December 7, 1929, at the Post Office at
New York, N. Y., under Act of March 3, 1879. Title registered as a
Trade Mark in the U. S. Patent Office. Member Newsstand Group--Men's
List. For advertising rates address E. R. Crowe & Co., Inc., 25
Vanderbilt Ave., New York; or 225 North Michigan Ave., Chicago.
Stolen Brains
_By Captain S. P. Meek_
[Illustration: _Two long arms shot silently down and grasped the
motionless figure._]
[Sidenote: Dr. Bird, scientific sleuth extraordinary, goes after a
sinister stealer of brains.]
"I hope, Carnes," said Dr. Bird, "that we get good fishing."
"Good fishing? Will you please tell me what you are talking about?"
"I am talking about fishing, old dear. Have you seen the evening
paper?"
"No. What's that got to do with it?"
Dr. Bird tossed across the table a copy of the _Washington Post_
folded so as to bring uppermost an item on page three. Carnes saw his
picture staring at him from the center of the page.
"What the dickens?" he exclaimed as he bent over the sheet. With
growing astonishment he read that Operative Carnes of the United
States Secret Service had collapsed at his desk that afternoon and had
been rushed to Walter Reed Hospital where the trouble had been
diagnosed as a nervous breakdown caused by overwork. There followed a
guarded statement from Admiral Clay, the President's personal
physician, who had been called into conference by the army
authorities.
The Admiral stated that the Chief of the Washington District was in no
immediate danger but that a prolonged rest was necessary. The paper
gave a glowing tribute to the detective's life and work and stated
that he had been given sick leave for an indefinite period and that he
was leaving at once for the fishing lodge of his friend, Dr. Bird of
the Bureau of Standards, at Squapan Lake, Maine. Dr. Bird, the article
concluded, would accompany and care for his stricken friend. Carnes
laid aside the paper with a gasp.
* * * * *
"Do you know what all this means?" Carnes demanded.
"It means, Carnsey, old dear, that the fishing at Squapan Lake should
be good right now and that I feel the need of accurate information on
the subject. I didn't want to go alone, so I engineered this outrage
on the government and am taking you along for company. For the love of
Mike, look sick from now on until we are clear of Washington. We leave
to-night. I already have our tickets and reservations and all you have
to do is to collect your tackle and pack your bags for a month or two
in the woods and meet me at the Pennsy station at six to-night."
"And yet there are some people who say there is no Santa Claus," mused
Carnes. "If I had really broken down from overwork, I would probably
have had my pay docked for the time I was absent, but a man with
official pull in this man's government wants to go fishing and presto!
the wheels move and the way is clear. Doctor, I'll meet you as
directed."
"Good enough," said Dr. Bird. "By the way, Carnes," he went on as the
operative opened the door, "bring your pistol."
Carnes whirled about at the words.
"Are we going on a case?" he asked.
"That remains to be seen," replied the Doctor enigmatically. "At all
events, bring your pistol. In answer to any questions, we are going
fishing. In point of fact, we are--with ourselves as bait. If you have
a little time to spare this afternoon you might drop around to the
office of the _Post_ and get them to show you all the amnesia cases
they have had stories on during the past three months. They will be
interesting reading. No more questions now, old dear, we'll have lots
of time to talk things over while we are in the Maine woods."
* * * * *
Late the next evening they left the Bangor and Aroostook train at
Mesardis and found a Ford truck waiting for them. Over a rough trail
they were driven for fifteen miles, winding up at a log cabin which
the Doctor announced was his. The truck deposited their belongings and
jounced away and Dr. Bird led the way to the cabin, which proved to be
unlocked. He pushed open the door and entered, followed by Carnes. The
operative glanced at the occupants of the cabin and started back in
surprise.
Seated at a table were two figures. The smaller of the two had his
back to the entrance but the larger one was facing them. He rose as
they entered and Carnes rubbed his eyes and reeled weakly against the
wall. Before him stood a replica of Dr. Bird. There was the same six
feet two of bone and muscle, the same beetling brows and the same
craggy chin and high forehead surmounted by a shock of unruly black
hair. In face and figure the stranger was a replica of the famous
scientist until he glanced at their hands. Dr. Bird's hands were long
and slim with tapering fingers, the hands of a thinker and an artist
despite the acid stains which disfigured them but could not hide
their beauty. The hands of his double were stained as were Dr. Bird's,
but they were short and thick and bespoke more the man of action than
the man of thought.
The second figure arose and faced them and again Carnes received a
shock. While the likeness was not so, striking, there was no doubt
that the second man would have readily passed for Carnes himself in a
dim light or at a little distance. Dr. Bird burst into laughter at the
detective's puzzled face.
"Carnes," he said, "shake yourself together and then shake hands with
Major Trowbridge of the Coast Artillery Corps. It has been said by
some people that we favor one another."
"I'm glad to meet you, Major," said Carnes. "The resemblance is
positively uncanny. But for your hands, I would have trouble telling
you two apart."
* * * * *
The Major glanced down at his stubby fingers.
"It is unfortunate but it can't be helped," he said. "Dr. Bird, this
is Corporal Askins of my command. He is not as good a second to Mr.
Carnes as I am to you but you said it was less important."
"The likeness is plenty good enough," replied the Doctor. "He will
probably not be subjected to as close a scrutiny as you will. Did you
have any trouble in getting here unobserved?"
"None at all, Doctor. Lieutenant Maynard found a good landing field
within a half mile of here, as you said he would, and he has his
Douglass camouflaged and is standing by. When do you expect trouble?"
"I have no idea. It may come to-night or it may come later. Personally
I hope that it comes later so that we can get in a few days of fishing
before anything happens."
"What do you expect to happen, Doctor?" demanded Carnes. "Every time I
have asked you anything you told me to wait until we were in the
Maine woods and we are there now. I read up everything that I could
find on amnesia victims during the past three months but it didn't
throw much light on the matter to me."
"How many cases did you find, Carnes?"
"Sixteen. There may have been lots more but I couldn't find any others
in the _Post_ records. Of course, unless the victim were a local man,
or of some prominence, it wouldn't appear."
"You got most of them at that. Did any points of similarity strike you
as you read them?"
"None except that all were prominent men and all of them mental
workers of high caliber. That didn't appear peculiar because it is the
man of high mentality who is most apt to crack."
"Undoubtedly. There were some points of similarity which you missed.
Where did the attacks take place?"
"Why, one was at--Thunder, Doctor! I did miss something. Every case,
as nearly as I can recall, happened at some summer camp or other
resort where they were on vacation."
"Correct. One other point. At what time of day did they occur?"
"In the morning, as well as I can remember. That point didn't
register."
"They were all discovered in the morning, Carnes, which means that the
actual loss of memory occurred during the night. Further, every case
has happened within a circle with a diameter of three hundred miles.
We are near the northern edge of that circle."
* * * * *
Carnes checked up on his memory rapidly.
"You're right, Doctor," he cried. "Do you think--?"
"Once in a while," replied Dr. Bird dryly, "I think enough to know the
futility of guesses hazarded without complete data. We are now located
within the limits of the amnesia belt and we are here to find out what
did happen, if anything, and not to make wild guesses about it. You
have the tent set up for us, Major?"
"Yes, Doctor, about thirty yards from the cabin and hidden so well
that you could pass it a dozen times a day without suspecting its
existence. The gas masks and other equipment which you sent to Fort
Banks are in it."
"In that case we had better dispense with your company as soon as we
have eaten a bite, and retire to it. On second thought, we will eat in
it. Carnes, we will go to our downy couches at once and leave our
substitutes in possession of the cabin. I trust, gentlemen, that
things come out all right and that you are in no danger."
Major Trowbridge shrugged his heavy shoulders.
"It is as the gods will," he said sententiously. "It is merely a
matter of duty to me, you know, and thank God, I have no family to
mourn if anything does go wrong. Neither has Corporal Askins."
"Well, good luck at any rate. Will you guide Carnes to the tent and
then return here and I'll join him?"
* * * * *
Huddled in the tiny concealed tent, Dr. Bird handed Carnes a haversack
on a web strap.
"This is a gas mask," he said. "Put it on your neck and keep it ready
for instant use. I have one on and one of us must wear a mask
continually while we are here. We'll change off every hour. If the gas
used is lethane, as I suspect, we should be able to detect it before
its gets too concentrated, but some other gas might be used and we
must take no chances. Now look here."
With the aid of a flash-light he showed Carnes a piece of apparatus
which had been set up in the tent. It consisted of two telescopic
barrels, one fitted with an eye-piece and the other, which was at a
wide angle to the first, with an objective glass. Between the two was
a covered round disc from which projected a short tube fitted with a
protecting lens. This tube was parallel to the telescopic barrel
containing the objective lens.
"This is a new thing which I have developed and it is getting its
first practical test to-night," he said. "It is a gas detector. It
works on the principle of the spectroscope with modifications. From
this projector goes out a beam of invisible light and the reflections
are gathered and thrown through a prism of the eye-piece. While a
spectroscope requires that the substance which it examines be
incandescent and throw out visible light rays in order to show the
typical spectral lines, this device catches the invisible ultra-violet
on a fluorescent screen and analyzes it spectroscopically. Whoever has
the mask on must continually search the sky with it and look for the
three bright lines which characterize lethane, one at 230, one at 240
and the third at 670 on the illuminated scale. If you see any bright
lines in those regions or any other lines that are not continually
present, call my attention to it at once. I'll watch for the first
hour."
* * * * *
At the end of an hour Dr. Bird removed his mask with a sigh of relief
and Carnes took his place at the spectroscope. For half an hour he
moved the glass about and then spoke in a guarded tone.
"I don't see any of the lines you told me to look for," he said, "but
in the southwest I get wide band at 310 and two lines at about 520."
Dr. Bird advanced toward the instrument but before he reached it,
Carnes gave an exclamation.
"There they are, Doctor!" he cried.
Dr. Bird sniffed the air. A faint sweetish odor became apparent and he
reached for his gas mask. Slowly his hands drooped and Carnes grasped
him and drew the mask over his face. Dr. Bird rallied slightly and
feebly drew a bottle from his pocket and sniffed it. In another
instant he was shouldering Carnes aside and staring through the
spectroscope. Carnes watched him for an instant and then a low whirring
noise attracted his attention and he looked up. Silently he caught
the Doctor's arm in a viselike grip and pointed.
Hovering above the cabin was a silvery globe, faintly luminous in the
moonlight. From its top rose a faint cloud of vapor which circled
around the globe and descended toward the earth. The globe hovered
like a giant humming bird above the cabin and Carnes barely stifled an
exclamation. The door of the cabin opened and Major Trowbridge,
walking stiffly and like a man in a dream, appeared. Slowly he
advanced for ten yards and stood motionless. The globe moved over him
and the bottom unfolded like a lily. Two long arms shot silently down
and grasped the motionless figure and drew him up into the heart of
the globe. The petals refolded, and silently as a dream the globe shot
upward and disappeared.
"Gad! They lost no time!" commented Dr. Bird. "Come on, Carnes, run
for your life, or rather, for Trowbridge's life. No, you idiot, leave
your gas mask on. I'll take the spectroscope; it'll be all we need."
Followed by the panting Carnes, Dr. Bird sped through the night along
an almost invisible path. For half a mile he kept up a headlong pace
until Carnes could feel his heart pounding as though it would burst
his ribs. The pair debouched from the trees into a glade a few acres
in extent and Dr. Bird paused and whistled softly. An answering
whistle came from a few yards away and a figure rose in the darkness
as they approached.
"Maynard?" called Dr. Bird. "Good enough! I was afraid that you might
not have kept your gas mask on."
"My orders were to keep it on, sir," replied the lieutenant in muffled
tones through his mask, "but my mechanician did not obey orders. He
passed out cold without any warning about fifteen minutes ago."
"Where's your ship?"
"Right over here, sir."
"We'll take off at once. Your craft is equipped with a Bird
silencer?"
"Yes, sir."
"Come on, Carnes, we're going to follow that globe. Take the front
cockpit alone, Maynard; Carnes and I will get in the rear pit with the
spec and guide you. You can take off your gas mask at an elevation of a
thousand feet. You have pack 'chutes, haven't you?"
"In the rear pit, Doctor."
"Put one on, Carnes, and climb in. I've got to get this spec set up
before he gets too high."
The Douglass equipped with the Bird silencer, took the air noiselessly
and rapidly gained elevation under the urging of the pilot. Dr. Bird
clamped the gas-detecting spectroscope on the front of his cockpit and
peered through it.
"Southwest, at about a thousand more elevation," he directed.
"Right!" replied the pilot as he turned the nose of his plane in the
indicated direction and began to climb. For an hour and a half the
plane flew noiselessly through the night.
"Bald Mountain," said the pilot, pointing. "The Canadian Border is
only a few miles away."
"If they've crossed the Border, we're sunk," replied the doctor. "The
trail leads straight ahead."
* * * * *
For a few minutes they continued their flight toward the Canadian
Border and then Dr. Bird spoke.
"Swing south," he directed, "and drop a thousand feet and come back."
The pilot executed the maneuver and Dr. Bird peered over the edge of
the plane and directed the spectroscope toward the ground.
"Half a mile east," he said, "and drop another thousand. Carnes, get
ready to jump when I give the word."
"Oh, Lord!" groaned Carnes as he fumbled for the rip cord of his
parachute, "suppose this thing doesn't open?"
"They'll slide you between two barn doors for a coffin and bury you
that way," said Dr. Bird grimly. "You know your orders, Maynard?"
"Yes, sir. When you drop, I am to land at the nearest town--it will be
Lowell--and get in touch with the Commandant of the Portsmouth Navy
Yard if possible. If I get him, I am to tell him my location and wait
for the arrival of reenforcements. If I fail to get him on the
telephone, I am to deliver a sealed packet which I carry to the
nearest United States Marshal. When reenforcements arrive, either from
the Navy Yard or from the Marshal, I am to guide them toward the spot
where I dropped you and remain, as nearly as I can judge, two miles
away until I get a further signal or orders from you."
"That is right. We'll be over the edge in another minute. Are you
ready, Carnes?"
"Oh, yes, I'm ready, Doctor, if I have to risk my precious life in
this contraption."
"Then jump!"
* * * * *
Side by side, Carnes and the doctor dropped toward the ground. The
Douglass flew silently away into the night. Carnes found that the
sensation of falling was not an unpleasant one as soon as he got
accustomed to it. There was little sensation of motion, and it was not
until a sharp whisper from Dr. Bird called it to his attention that he
realized that he was almost to the ground. He bent his legs as he had
been instructed and landed without any great jar. As he rose he saw
that Dr. Bird was already on his feet and was eagerly searching the
ground with the spectroscope which he had brought with him in the
jump.
"Fold your parachute, Carnes, and we'll stow them away under a rock
where they can't be seen. We won't use them again."
Carnes did so and deposited the silk bundle beside the doctor's, and
they covered them with rocks until they would be invisible from the
air.
"Follow me," said the doctor as he strode carefully forward, stopping
now and then to take a sight with the spectroscope. Carnes followed
him as he made his way up a small hill which blocked the way. A hiss
from Dr. Bird stopped him.
Dr. Bird had dropped flat on the ground, and Carnes, on all fours,
crawled forward to join him. He smothered an exclamation as he looked
over the crest of the hill. Before him, sitting in a hollow in the
ground, was the huge globe which had spirited away Major Trowbridge.
"This is evidently their landing place," whispered Dr. Bird. "The next
thing to find is their hiding place."
* * * * *
He rose and started forward but sank at once to the ground and dragged
Carnes down with him. On the hill which formed the opposite side of
the hollow a line of light showed for an instant as though a door had
been opened. The light disappeared and then reappeared, and as they
watched it widened and against an illuminated background four men
appeared, carrying a fifth. The door shut behind them and they made
their way slowly toward the waiting globe. They laid down their burden
and one of them turned a flash-light on the globe and opened a door in
its side through which they hoisted their burden. They all entered the
globe, the door closed and with a slight whirring sound it rose in the
air and moved rapidly toward the northeast.
"That's the place we're looking for," muttered Dr. Bird. "We'll go
around this hollow and look for it. Be careful where you step; they
must have ventilation somewhere if their laboratory is underground."
Followed by the secret service operative, the doctor made his way
along the edge of the hollow. They did not dare to show a light and it
was slow work feeling their way forward, inch by inch. When they had
reached a point above where the doctor thought the light had been he
paused.
"There must be a ventilation shaft somewhere around here," he
whispered, his mouth not an inch from Carnes' ear, "and we've got to
find it. It would never do to try the door; if any of them are still
here it is sure to be guarded. You go up the hill for five yards and
I'll go down. Quarter back and forth on a two hundred yard front and
work carefully. Don't fall in, whatever you do. We'll return to this
point every time we pass it and report."
The operative nodded and walked a few yards up the hill and made his
way slowly forward. He went a hundred yards as nearly as he could
judge and then stepped five yards further up the hill and made his way
back. As he passed the starting point he approached and Dr. Bird's
figure rose up.
"Any luck?" he whispered.
Dr. Bird shook his head.
"Well try further," he said. "I think it is probably beyond us, so
suppose you go fifteen yards up and quarter the same as before."
* * * * *
Carnes nodded and stole silently away. Fifteen yards up the hill he
went and then paused. He stood on the crest of the hill and before him
was a steep, almost precipitous slope. He made his way along the edge
for a few yards and then paused. Faintly he could detect a murmur of
voices. Inch by inch he crept forward, going over the ground under
foot. He paused and listened intently and decided that the sound must
come from the slope beneath him. A glance at his watch told him that
he had spent ten minutes on this trip and he made his way back to the
meeting place.
Dr. Bird was waiting for him, and in a low whisper Carnes reported his
discovery. The doctor went back with him and together they renewed the
search. The slope of the hill was almost sheer and Carnes looked
dubiously over the edge.
"I wish we had brought the parachutes," he whispered to the doctor.
"We could have taken the ropes off them and you could have lowered me
over the edge."
Dr. Bird chuckled softly and tugged at his middle. Carnes watched him
with astonishment in the dim light, but he understood when Dr. Bird
thrust the end of a strong but light silk cord into his hands. He
looped it under his arms and the doctor with whispered instructions,
lowered him over the cliff. The doctor lowered him for a few feet and
then stopped in response to a jerk on the free end. A moment later
Carnes signaled to be drawn up and soon stood beside the doctor.
"That's the place all right," he whispered. "The whole cliff is
covered with creepers and there is a tree growing right close to it.
If we can anchor the cord here, I think that we can slide down to a
safe hold on the tree."
A tree stood near and the silk cord was soon fastened. Carnes
disappeared over the cliff and in a few moments Dr. Bird slid down the
cord to join him. He found the detective seated in the crotch of a
tree only a few feet from the face of the cliff. From the cliff came a
pronounced murmur of voices. Dr. Bird drew in his breath in excitement
and moved forward along the branch. He touched the stone and after a
moment of searching he cautiously raised one corner of a painted
canvas flap and peered into the cliff. He watched for a few seconds
and then slid back and silently pulled Carnes toward him.
* * * * *
Together the two men made their way toward the cliff and Dr. Bird
raised the corner of the flap and they peered into the hill. Before
them was a cave fitted up as a cross between a laboratory and a
hospital. Almost directly opposite them and at the left of a door in
the farther wall was a ray machine of some sort. It was a puzzle to
Carnes, and even Dr. Bird, although he could grasp the principle at a
glance, was at a loss to divine its use. From a set of coils attached
to a generator was connected a tube of the Crookes tube type with the
rays from it gathered and thrown by a parabolic reflector onto the
space where a man's head would rest when he was seated in a white
metal chair with rubber insulated feet, which stood beneath it. An
operating table occupied the other side of the room while a gas
cylinder and other common hospital apparatus stood around ready for
use.
Seated at a table which occupied the center of the room were three
men. The sound of their voices rose from an indistinct murmur to
audibility as the flap was raised and the watchers could readily
understand their words. Two of them sat with their faces toward the
main entrance and the third man faced them. Carnes bit his lip as he
looked at the man at the head of the table. He was twisted and
misshapen in body, a grotesque dwarf with a hunched back, not over
four feet in height. His massive head, sunken between his hunched
shoulders, showed a tremendous dome of cranium and a brow wider and
even higher than Dr. Bird's. The rest of his face was lined and drawn
as though by years of acute suffering. Sharp black eyes glared
brightly from deep sunk caverns. The dwarf was entirely bald; even the
bushy eyebrows which would be expected from his face, were missing.
* * * * *
"They ought to be getting back," said the dwarf sharply.
"If they get back at all," said one of the two figures facing him.
"What do you mean?" growled the dwarf, his eyes glittering ominously.
"They'll return all right; they know they'd better."
"They'll return if they can, but I tell you again, Slavatsky, I think
it was a piece of foolishness to try to take two men in one night. We
got Bird all right, but it is getting late for a second one, and they
had to take Bird over a hundred miles and then go nearly three hundred
more for Williams. The news about Bird may have been discovered and
spread and others may be looking out for us. Carnes might have
recovered."
"Didn't he get a full dose of lethane?"
"So Frick says, and Bird certainly had a full dose, but I can't help
but feel uneasy. Our operations were going too nicely on schedule and
you had to break it up and take on an extra case in the same night as
a scheduled one. I tell you, I don't like it."
"I'm sorry that I did it, Carson, but only because the results were so
poor. We had planned on Williams for a month and I wanted him. And
Bird was so easy that I couldn't resist it."
"And what did you get? Not as much menthium as would have come from an
ordinary bookkeeper."
"I'll admit that Bird is a grossly overrated man. He must have worked
in sheer luck in his work in the past, for there was nothing in his
brain to show it above average. We got barely enough menthium to
replace what we used in capturing him."
"We ought to have taken Carnes and left Bird alone," snorted Carson.
"Even a wooden-headed detective ought to have given us a better supply
than Bird yielded."
"We are bound to meet with disappointments once in a while. I had
marked Bird down long ago as soon as I could get a chance at him."
"Well, you ran that show, Slavatsky, but I'll warn you that we aren't
going to let you pull off another one like it. I take no more crazy
chances, even on your orders."
* * * * *
The hunchback rose to his feet, his eyes glittering ominously.
"What do you mean, Carson?" he asked slowly, his hand slipping behind
him as he spoke.
"Don't try any rough stuff, Slavatsky!" warned Carson sharply. "I can
pull a tube as fast as you can, and I'll do it if I have to."
"Gentlemen, gentlemen!" protested the third man rising, "we are all
too deep in this to quarrel. Sit down and let's talk this over. Carson
is just worried."
"What is there to be worried about?" grunted the dwarf as he slid back
into his chair. "Everything has gone nicely so far and no suspicion
has been raised."
"Maybe it has and then again maybe it hasn't," growled Carson. "I
think this Bird episode to-night looks bad. In the first place, it
came too opportunely and too easily. In the second place Bird should
have yielded more menthium, and in the third place, did you notice his
hands? They weren't the type of hands to expect on a man of his type."
"Nonsense, they were acid stained."
"Acid stains can be put on. It may be all right, but I am worried.
While we are talking about this matter, there is another thing I want
cleared up."
"What is it?"
"I think, Slavatsky, that you are holding out on us. You are getting
more than your share of the menthium."
Again the dwarf leaped to his feet, but the peace-maker intervened.
"Carson has a right to look at the records, Slavatsky," he said. "I am
satisfied, but I'd like to look at them, too. None of us have seen
them for two months."
The dwarf glared at first one and then the other.
"All right," he said shortly and limped to a cabinet on the wall. He
drew a key from his pocket and opened it and pulled out a
leather-bound book. "Look all you please. I was supposed to get the
most. It was my idea."
"You were to get one share and a half, while Willis, Frink and I got
one share each and the rest half a share," said Carson. "I know how
much has been given and it won't take me but a minute to check up."
* * * * *
He bent over the book, but Willis interrupted.
"Better put it away, Carson," he said, "here come the rest and we
don't want them to know we suspect anything."
He pointed toward a disc on the wall which had begun to glow.
Slavatsky looked at it and grasped the book from Carson and replaced
it in the cabinet. He moved over and started the generator and the
tube began to glow with a violet light. A noise came from the outside
and the door opened. Four men entered carrying a fifth whom they
propped up in the chair under the glowing tube.
"Did everything go all right?" asked the dwarf eagerly.
"Smooth as silk," replied one of the four. "I hope we get some results
this time."
The dwarf bent over the ray apparatus and made some adjustments and
the head of the unconscious man was bathed with a violet glow. For
three minutes the flood of light poured on his head and then the dwarf
shut off the light and Carson and Willis lifted the figure and laid it
on the operating table. The dwarf bent over the man and inserted the
needle of a hypodermic syringe into the back of the neck at the base
of the brain. The needle was an extremely long one, and Dr. Bird
gasped as he saw four inches of shining steel buried in the brain of
the unconscious man.
Slowly Slavatsky drew back the plunger of the syringe and Dr. Bird
could see it was being filled with an amber fluid. For two minutes the
slow work continued, until a speck of red appeared in the glass
syringe barrel.
"Seven and a half cubic centimeters!" cried the dwarf in a tone of
delight.
"Fine!" cried Carson. "That's a record, isn't it?"
"No, we got eight once. Now hold him carefully while I return some of
it."
* * * * *
Slavatsky slowly pressed home the plunger and a portion of the amber
fluid was returned to the patient's skull. Presently he withdrew the
needle and straightened up and held it toward the light.
"Six centimeters net," he announced. "Take him back, Frink. I'll give
Carson and Willis their share now and we'll take care of the rest of
you when you return. Is the ship well stocked?"
"Enough for two or three more trips."
"In that case, I'll inject this whole lot. Better get going, Frink,
it's pretty late."
The four men who had brought the patient in stepped forward and lifted
him from the table and bore him out. Dr. Bird dropped the canvas
screen and strained his ears. A faint whir told him that the globe had
taken to the air. He slid back along the limb of the tree until he
touched the rope and silently climbed hand over hand until he gained
the crest. He bent his back to the task of raising Carnes, and the
operative soon stood beside him on the ledge surmounting the cliff.
"What on earth were they doing?" asked Carnes in a whisper.
"That was Professor Williams of Yale. They were depriving him of his
memory. There will be another amnesia case in the papers to-morrow. I
haven't time to explain their methods now: we've got to act. You have
a flash-light?"
"Yes, and my gun. Shall we break in? There are only three of them, and
I think we could handle the lot."
"Yes, but the others may return at any time and we want to bag the
whole lot. They've done their damage for to-night. You heard my orders
to Lieutenant Maynard, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"He should be somewhere in these hills to the south with assistance of
some sort. The signal to them is three long flashes followed in turn
by three short ones and three more long. Go and find them and bring
them here. When you get close give me the same light signal and don't
try to break in unless I am with you. I am going to reconnoitre a
little more and make sure that there is no back entrance through which
they can escape. Good luck. Carnes: hurry all you can. There is no
time to be lost."
* * * * *
The secret service operative stole away into the night and Dr. Bird
climbed back down the rope and took his place at the window. Willis
lay on the operating table unconscious, while Slavatsky and Carson
studied the now partially emptied syringe.
"You gave him his full share all right," Carson was saying. "I guess
you are playing square with us. I'll take mine now."
He lay down on the operating table and the dwarf fitted an anesthesia
cone over his face and opened the valve of the gas cylinder. In a
moment he closed it and rolled the unconscious man on his face and
deftly inserted the long needle. Instead of injecting a portion of the
contents of the syringe as Dr. Bird had expected to do, he drew back
on the plunger for a minute and then took out the needle and held the
syringe to the light.
"Well, Mr. Carson," he said with a malignant glance at the unconscious
figure, "that recovers the dose you got a couple of weeks ago while
Willis watched me. I don't think you really need any menthium; your
brain is too active to suit me as it is."
He gave an evil chuckle and walked to the far side of the cave and
opened a secret panel. He drew from a recess a flask and carefully
emptied a portion of the contents of the syringe into it. He replaced
the flask and closed the panel, and with another chuckle he limped
over to a chair and threw himself down in it. For an hour he sat
motionless and Dr. Bird carefully worked his way back along the branch
and climbed the rope and started for the hollow.
* * * * *
A faint whirring noise attracted his attention, and he could see the
faintly luminous globe in the distance, rapidly approaching. It came
to a stop at the spot where it had previously landed and four men got
out. Instead of going toward the cave, they towed the globe, which
floated a few inches from the earth, toward the side of the hill
farthest from where the doctor stood. Three of them held it, while the
fourth went forward and bent over some controls on the ground. A
creaking sound came through the night and the men moved forward with
the globe. Presently its movement stopped and men reappeared. Again
came the creaking sound and the glow faded out as though a screen had
been drawn in front of it. The four men walked toward the door of the
cave.
Dr. Bird dropped flat on the ground and saw them pause a few yards
below him on the hill and again work some hidden controls. A glare of
light showed for an instant and they disappeared and everything was
again quiet. Dr. Bird debated the advisability of returning to the
window but decided against it and moved down the face of the hill.
Inch by inch he went over the ground, but found nothing. In the
darkness he could not locate the door and he made his way around to
the back of the hill. The precipice loomed above him and he swept it
with his gaze, but he could locate no opening in the darkness and he
dared not use a flash-light. As he turned he faced the east and noted
with a start of surprise that the sky was getting red. He glanced at
his watch and found that Carnes had been gone for nearly three hours.
"Great Scott!" he exclaimed in surprise. "Time has gone faster than I
realized. He ought to be back at any time now."
* * * * *
He mounted the highest point of the hill and sent three long flashes,
followed in turn by three short and three more long to the south and
watched eagerly for an answer. He waited five minutes and repeated the
signal, but no answering flashes came from the empty hills. With a
grunt which might have meant anything, he turned and made his way
toward the opposite side of the hollow where the globe had
disappeared. Here he met with more luck. He had marked the location
with extreme care and he had not spent over twenty minutes feeling
over the ground before his hand encountered a bit of metal. As he
pulled on it his eyes sought the side of the hill.
The dawn had grown sufficiently bright for him to see the result of
his action. A portion of the hill folded back and the faintly glowing
ship became visible. With a muttered exclamation of triumph he
approached it.
The globe was about nine feet in diameter and was without visible
doors or windows. Around and around it the doctor went, searching for
an entrance. The ship now rested solidly on the ground. He failed to
find what he sought and his sensitive hands began to go over it
searching for an irregularity. He had covered nearly half of it before
his finger found a hidden button and pressed it. Silently a door in
the side of the craft opened and he advanced to enter.
"Keep them up!" said a sharp voice behind him.
Dr. Bird froze into instant immobility and the voice spoke again.
"Turn around!"
Dr. Bird turned and looked full into the eye of a revolver held by the
man the dwarf had addressed as Frink. Behind Frink stood the dwarf and
three other men.
As his eye fell on Dr. Bird, Frink turned momentarily pale and
staggered back, the revolver wavering as he did so. Dr. Bird made a
lightning-like grab for his own weapon, but before he could draw it
Frink had recovered and the revolver was again steady.
"Dr. Bird!" gasped Slavatsky. "Impossible!"
"Get his gun, Harris," said Frink.
* * * * *
One of the men stepped forward and dextrously removed the doctor's
automatic and frisked him expertly to insure himself that he had no
other weapon concealed.
"Bring him to the cave," directed Slavatsky, who, though obviously
still shaken, had just as obviously recovered enough to be a very
dangerous man. Two of the men grasped the doctor and led him along
toward the entrance to the laboratory cave which stood wide open in
the gathering daylight. Frink paused long enough to shut the side of
the hill and conceal the ship, and then followed the doctor. In the
cave the door was shut and the doctor placed against the wall under
the window through which he had peered earlier in the night. Slavatsky
took his seat at the table, his malignant black eyes boring into the
Doctor. Carson and Willis sat on the edge of the operating table,
evidently still partially under the effects of the anesthetic that had
been administered to them.
"How did you get back here?" demanded Slavatsky.
"Find out!" snapped Dr. Bird.
The dwarf rose threateningly.
"Speak respectfully to me; I am the Master of the World!" he roared in
an angry voice. "Answer my questions when I speak, or means will be
found to make you answer. How did you get back here?"
Dr. Bird maintained a stubborn silence, his fierce eyes answering the
dwarf's, look for look, and his prominent chin jutting out a little
more squarely. Carson suddenly broke the silence.
"That's not the Bird we had here earlier," he cried as he staggered to
his feet.
"What do you mean?" demanded Slavatsky whirling on him.
"Look at his hands!" replied Carson pointing.
* * * * *
Slavatsky looked at Dr. Bird's long mobile fingers and an evil leer
came over his countenance.
"So, Dr. Bird," he said slowly, "you thought to match wits with Ivan
Slavatsky, the greatest mind of all the ages. For a time you fooled me
when your double was operated on here, but not for long. I presume you
thought that we had no way of detecting the substitution? You have
discovered differently. Where is your friend, Mr. Carnes?"
"Didn't your men leave him in the cabin when you kidnapped me?"
Slavatsky looked at Frink inquiringly.
"He stayed in the cabin if he was in it when we got there," the leader
of the kidnapping gang replied. "He got a full shot of lethane and
he's due to be asleep yet. I don't know how this man recovered. I left
him there myself."
"Fool!" shrieked Slavatsky. "You brought me a double, a dummy whom I
wasted my time in operating on. Was the other a dummy, too?"
"I didn't enter the cabin."
Slavatsky shrugged his shoulders.
"If that is all the good the menthium I have injected has done you, I
might as well have saved it. It doesn't matter, however: we have the
one we wanted. Dr. Bird, it was very thoughtful of you to come here
and offer your marvelous brain to strengthen mine. I have no doubt
that you will yield even more menthium than Professor Williams did
this evening especially as I will extract your entire supply and
reduce you to permanent idiocy. I will have no mercy on you as I have
on the others I have operated on."
Dr. Bird blanched in spite of himself at the ominous words.
"You have the whip-hand for the moment, Slavatsky, but my time may
come--and if it does, I will remember your kindness. I saw your
operation on Professor Williams this evening and know your power. I
also know that you stole the idea and the method from Sweigert of
Vienna. I saw you inject the fluid you drew into Willis' brain. Shall
I tell what else I saw?"
It was the dwarf's turn to blanch, but he recovered himself quickly.
"Into the chair with him!" he roared.
* * * * *
Three of the men grasped the doctor and forced him into the chair and
Slavatsky started the generator. The violet light bathed Dr. Bird's head
and he felt a stiffness and contraction of his neck muscles, and as he
tried to shout out his knowledge of Slavatsky's treachery, he found that
his vocal chords were paralyzed. Through a gathering haze he could see
Carson approaching with an anesthesia cone and the sweet smell of lethane
assailed his nostrils. He fought with all his force, but strong hands held
him, and he felt himself slipping--slipping--slipping--and then falling
into an immense void. His head slumped forward on his chest and Slavatsky
shut off the generator.
"On the table," he said briefly.
Four men picked up the herculean frame of the unconscious doctor and
hoisted him up on the table. Carson seized his head and bent it
forward and the dwarf took from a case a syringe with a five-inch
needle. He touched the point of it to the base of the doctor's brain.
"Slavatsky! Look!" cried Frink.
With an exclamation of impatience the dwarf turned and stared at a
disc set on the wall of the cave. It was glowing brightly. With an
oath he dropped the syringe and snapped a switch, plunging the cave
into darkness. A tiny panel in the door opened to his touch and he
stared out into the light.
"Soldiers!" he gasped. "Quick, the back way!"
As he spoke there came a sound as of a heavy body falling at the back
of the cave. Slavatsky turned the switch and flooded the cave with
light. At the back of the cave stood Operative Carnes, an automatic
pistol in his hand.
"Open the main door!" Carnes snapped.
* * * * *
Slavatsky made a move toward the light, and Carnes' gun roared
deafeningly in the confined space. The heavy bullet smashed into the
wall an inch from the dwarf's hand and he started back.
"Open the main door!" ordered Carnes again.
The men stared at one another for a moment and the dwarf's eyes fell.
"Open the door, Frink," he said.
Frink moved over to a lever. He glanced at Slavatsky and a momentary
gleam of intelligence passed between them. Frink raised his hand
toward the lever and Carnes gun roared again and Frink's arm fell limp
from a smashed shoulder.
"Slavatsky," said Carnes sternly, "come here!"
Slowly the dwarf approached.
"Turn around!" said Carnes.
He turned and felt the cold muzzle of Carnes' gun against the back of
his neck.
"Now tell one of your men to open the door," said the detective. "If
he promptly obeys your order, you are safe. If he doesn't, you die."
Slavatsky hesitated for a moment, but the cold muzzle of the automatic
bored into the back of his neck and when he spoke it was in a
quavering whine.
"Open the door, Carson," he whimpered.
There was moment of pause.
"If that door isn't open by the time I count three," said Carnes,
"--as far as Slavatsky is concerned, it's just too bad. I'll have four
shots left--and I'm a dead shot at this range. One! Two!"
His lips framed the word "three" and his fingers were tightening on
the trigger when Carson jumped forward with an oath. He pulled a lever
on the wall and the door swung open. Carnes shouted and through the
opened door came a half dozen marines followed by an officer.
"Tie these men up!" snapped Carnes.
* * * * *
In a trice the six men were securely bound and Frink's bleeding
shoulder was being skilfully treated by two of the marines. Carnes
turned his attention to the unconscious doctor.
He rolled him over on his back and began to chafe his hands. An
officer in a naval uniform came through the door and with a swift
glance around, bent over Dr. Bird. He raised one of the doctor's
eyelids and peered closely at his eye and then sniffed at his breath.
"It's some anesthetic I don't know," he said. "I'll try a stimulant."
He reached in his pocket for a hypodermic, but Carnes interrupted him.
"Earlier in the evening Dr. Bird said they were using lethane," he
said.
"Oh, that new gas the Chemical Warfare Service has discovered," said
the surgeon. "In that case I guess it'll just have to wear off. I know
of nothing that will neutralize it."
Without replying, Carnes began to feverishly search the pockets of the
unconscious scientist. With an exclamation of triumph he drew out a
bottle and uncorked it. A strong smell as of garlic penetrated the
room and he held the opened bottle under Dr. Bird's nose. The doctor
lay for a moment without movement, and then he coughed and sat up half
strangled with tears running down his face.
"Take that confounded bottle away, Carnes!" he said. "Do you want to
strangle me?"
He sat up and looked around.
"What happened?" he demanded. "Oh, yes, I remember now. That brute was
about to operate on me. How did you get here?"
"Never mind that, Doctor. Are you all right?"
"Right as a trivet, old dear. How did you get here so opportunely?"
"I was a little slow in locating Lieutenant Maynard and the marines.
When we got here I was afraid that we couldn't find the door, so I
took Maynard and a detail around to the back and I went up to the top
and slid down our cord and looked in the window. You were unconscious
and Slavatsky was bending over you with a needle in his hand. I was
about to try a shot at him when something called their attention to
the men in front and I squeezed through the window and dropped in on
them. They didn't seem any too glad to see me, but I overlooked that
and insisted on inviting the rest of my friends in to share in the
party. That's all."
"Carnes," said the Doctor, "you're probably lying like a trooper when
you make out that you did nothing, but I'll pry the truth out of you
sooner or later. Now I've got to get to work. Send for Lieutenant
Maynard."
* * * * *
One of the marines went out to get the flyer, and Dr. Bird stepped to
the cabinet from which Slavatsky had taken his record book earlier in
the evening and took out the leather-bound volume. He opened it and
had started to read when Lieutenant Maynard entered the cave.
"Hello, Maynard," said the Doctor, looking up. "Are the rest of the
party on their way?"
"They will be here in less than two hours, Doctor."
"Good enough! Have some one sent to guide them here. In the meanwhile,
I'm going to study these records. Keep the prisoners quiet. If they
make a noise, gag them. I want to concentrate."
For an hour and a half silence reigned in the cave. A stir was heard
outside and Admiral Clay, the President's personal physician, entered
leading a stout gray-haired man. Dr. Bird whistled when he saw them
and leaped to his feet as another figure followed the admiral.
"The President!" gasped Carnes as the officers came to a salute and
the marines presented arms.
The President nodded to his ex-guard, acknowledged the salute of the
rest and turned to Dr. Bird.
"Have you met with success, Doctor?" he asked.
"I have, Mr. President; or, rather, I hope that I have. At the same
time, I would rather experiment on some other victim of their deviltry
than the one you have brought me."
"My decision that the one I have brought shall be the first to be
experimented on, as you term it, is unalterable."
* * * * *
Dr. Bird bowed and turned to the dwarf who had been a sullen witness
of what had gone on.
"Slavatsky," he said slowly, "your game is up. I have witnessed one of
your brain transfusions and I know the method. I gather from your
notes that the menthium you have hidden in that cabinet is still as
potent as when it was first extracted from a living brain, but in this
case I am going to draw it fresh from one of your gang. Some of the
details of the operation are a little hazy to me, but those you will
teach me. I am going to restore this man to the condition he was in
before you did your devil's work on him and you will direct my
movements. Just what is the first step in removing the menthium from a
brain?"
The dwarf maintained a stubborn silence.
"You refuse to answer?" asked the Doctor in feigned surprise. "I
thought that you would rather instruct me and have me try the
operation first on other men. Since you prefer that I operate on you
first, I will be glad to do so."
He stepped to the opposite wall and in a few moments had opened the
dwarf's hiding place and taken out the flask of menthium.
"Carson," he said, "after you had watched Slavatsky inject menthium
into Willis, you took lethane and expected him to inject menthium into
your brain. Instead of doing so he withdrew a portion from your brain
and put it in this flask. I have reason to believe from his secret
records which I found in the cabinet with this flask that he has done
so regularly. Are you willing to instruct me while I remove the
menthium from him?"
"The dirty swine!" shouted Carson. "I'll do anything to get even with
him, but I have never performed the operation. Only Slavatsky and
Willis have operated."
"Will you help me, Willis? asked Dr. Bird.
"I'll be glad to, Doctor. I am sick of this business anyway. At first,
Slavatsky just planned to give us abnormally keen brains, but lately
he has been talking of setting himself up as Emperor of the World, and
I am sick of it. I think I would have broken with him and told all I
know, soon, anyway."
"Throw him in that chair," said Dr. Bird.
* * * * *
Despite the howlings and strugglings of the dwarf, three of the
marines strapped him in the chair beneath the tube. The dwarf howled
and frothed at the mouth and directed a final appeal for mercy to the
President.
"Spare me, Your Excellency," he howled. "I will put my brains at your
service and make you the greatest mentality of all time. Together we
can conquer and rule the world. I will show you how to build hundreds
of ships like mine--"
The President turned his back on the dwarf and spoke curtly.
"Proceed with your experiments, Dr. Bird," he said.
Slavatsky directed his appeals to the doctor, who peremptorily
silenced him.
"I told you a few hours ago, Slavatsky, that the time might come when
I would remember your threats against me. I will show you the same
mercy now as you promised me then. Carnes, put a cone over his face."
Despite the howls of the dwarf, the operative forced an anesthesia
cone over his face and Dr. Bird turned to the valve of the lethane
cylinder. With Willis directing his movements, he turned on the ray
for three minutes and removed the unconscious dwarf to the operating
table. He took the long-needled syringe from a case and sterilized it
and then turned to the President.
"I am about to operate," he said, "but before I do so, I wish to
explain to all just what I have learned and what I am about to do.
With that data, the decision of whether I shall proceed will rest with
you and Admiral Clay. Have I your permission to do so?"
* * * * *
The President nodded.
"When I first read of these amnesia cases, I took them for
coincidences--until you consulted me and gave me an opportunity to
examine one of the victims. I found a small puncture at the base of
the brain which I could not explain, and I began to dig into old
records. I knew, of course, of Sweigert of Vienna, and the extravagant
claims he had put forward in 1911. He was far ahead of his time, but
he mixed up some profound scientific discoveries with mysticism and
occultism until he was discredited. Nevertheless, he continued his
experiments with the aid of his principal assistant, a man named
Slavatsky.
"Sweigert's theory was that intellectuality, brain power,
intelligence, call it what you will, was the result of the presence of
a fluid which he called 'menthium' in the brain. He thought that it
could be transferred from one person to another, and with the aid of
Slavatsky, he experimented on himself. He removed the menthium from an
unfortunate victim, who was reduced to a state of imbecility, and
Slavatsky injected the substance into Sweigert's brain. The experiment
resulted fatally and Slavatsky was tried for murder. He was acquitted
of intentional murder but was imprisoned for a time for manslaughter.
He was released when the Austro-Hungarian Empire was broken up, and
for a time I lost track of him.
"I found translations of both the records of the trials and of
Sweigert's original reports, and the thing that attracted my attention
was that the puncture I found in the victim corresponded exactly with
the puncture described by Sweigert as the one he made in extracting
the menthium. I asked the immigration authorities to check over their
records and they found that a man named Slavatsky whose description
corresponded with the ill-fated Sweigert's assistant had entered the
United States under Austria's quota about a year ago. The chain of
evidence seemed complete to me, and it only remained to find the man
who was systematically robbing brains.
"If such a thing was really going on, I felt that my reputation would
make me an attractive bait and I secured a double, as you know, and
placed him in a position where his kidnapping would be an easy matter.
I was sure that the victims were being taken away by air and that
lethane was being used to reduce the neighborhood to a state of
profound somnolence, so I hid myself near my double with a gas
detector which would find even minute traces of lethane in the air.
"My fish rose to the lure and came after the bait last night. When his
ship arrived, I found a strange gas in the air, and followed the ship
by the trail of the substance which it left behind it. Carnes was with
me, and we got here in time to witness the extraction of the menthium
from my friend, Professor Williams of Yale, and to see it injected
into one of Slavatsky's gang. I sent Carnes for help and messed around
until I was captured myself--and help arrived just in time. That's
about all there is to tell. I am now about to reverse the process and
try to remove the stolen brains from the criminals and restore them to
their rightful owners. I have never operated and the result may be
fatal. Shall I proceed?"
The President and Admiral Clay consulted for a moment in undertones.
"Go on with your experiments, Dr. Bird," said the President, "and we
will hold you blameless for a failure. You have worked so many
miracles in the past that we have every confidence in you."
Dr. Bird bowed acknowledgment to the compliment and bent over the
unconscious dwarf. With Willis directing every move, he inserted the
needle and drew back slowly on the plunger. Twenty-three and one-half
cubic centimeters of amber fluid flowed into the syringe before a
speck of blood appeared.
"Enough!" cried Willis. Dr. Bird withdrew the syringe and motioned to
Admiral Clay. The man the Admiral had brought in was placed in the
chair and lethane administered. He was laid on the table, and, with a
silent prayer, Dr. Bird inserted the needle and pressed the plunger.
When five and one-quarter centimeters had flowed into the man's
brains, he withdrew the needle and held the bottle which Carnes had
used to revive him under the man's nose. The patient coughed a moment
and sat up.
"Where am I?" he demanded. His gaze roved the cave and fell on the
President. "Hello, Robert," he exclaimed. "What has happened?"
With a cry of joy the President sprang forward and wrung the hand of
the man.
"Are you all right, William?" he asked anxiously. "Do you feel
perfectly normal?"
"Of course I do. My neck feels a little stiff. What are you talking
about? Why shouldn't I feel normal? How did I get here?"
"Take him outside, Admiral, and explain to him," said the President.
Admiral Clay led the puzzled man outside and the President turned to
Dr. Bird.
"Doctor," he said, "I need not tell you that I again add my personal
gratitude to the gratitude of a nation which would be yours, could the
miracles you work be told off. If there is ever any way that can serve
you, either personally or officially, do not hesitate to ask. The
other victims will be brought here to-day. Will you be able to restore
them?"
"I will, Mr. President. From Slavatsky's records I find that I will
have enough if I reduce all of his men to a state of imbecility except
Willis. In view of his assistance, I propose to leave him with enough
menthium to give him the intelligence of an ordinary schoolboy."
"I quite approve of that," said the President as Willis humbly
expressed his gratitude. "Have you had time to make an examination of
that ship of Slavatsky's, yet?"
"I have not. As soon as the work of restoration is completed, I will
go over it, and when I master the principles I will be glad to take
them up with the Army-Navy General Board."
"Thank you, Doctor," said the President. He shook hands heartily and
left the cave. Carnes turned and looked at the Doctor.
"Will you answer a question, Doctor?" he asked. "Ever since this case
started, I have been wondering at your extraordinary powers. You have
ordered the army, the navy, the department of justice and everyone
else around as though you were an absolute monarch. I know the
President was behind you, but what puzzles me is how he came to be so
vitally interested in the case."
Dr. Bird smiled quizzically at the detective.
"Even the secret service doesn't know everything," he said. "Evidently
you didn't recognize the man whose memory I restored. Besides being
one of the most brilliant corporation executives in the country, he
has another unique distinction. He happens to be the only brother of
the President of the United States."
[Advertisement: ]
The Invisible Death
A COMPLETE NOVELETTE
_By Victor Rousseau_
[Illustration: Far overhead a luminous shape appeared.]
[Sidenote: With night-rays and darkness-antidote America strikes back
at the terrific and destructive Invisible Empire.]
CHAPTER I
_Out of the Hangman's Hands_
"You speak," said Von Kettler, jeering, "as if you really believed
that you had the power of life and death over me."
The Superintendent of the penitentiary frowned, yet there was
something of perplexity in the look he gave the prisoner. "Von
Kettler, I think it is time that you dropped this absurd pose of
yours," he said, "in view of the fact that you are scheduled to die by
hanging at eight o'clock to-morrow night. Your life and death are in
your own hands."
[Illustration]
Von Kettler bowed ironically. Standing in the Superintendent's
presence in the uniform of the condemned cell, collarless,
bare-headed, he yet seemed to dominate the other by a certain poise,
breeding, nonchalance.
"Your life is offered you in consideration of your making a complete
written confession of the whole ramifications of the plot against the
Federal Government," the Superintendent continued.
"Rather a confession of weakness, my dear Superintendent," jeered the
prisoner.
* * * * *
"Oh don't worry about that! The Government has unravelled a good deal
of the conspiracy. It knows that you and your international associates
are planning to strike at civilized government throughout the world,
in the effort to restore the days of autocracy. It knows you are
planning a world federation of states, based on the principles of
absolutism and aristocracy. It is aware of the immense financial
resources behind the movement. Also that you have obtained the use of
certain scientific discoveries which you believe will aid you in your
schemes."
"I was wondering," jeered the prisoner, "how soon you were coming to
that."
"They didn't help you in your murderous scheme," the Superintendent
thundered. "You were found in the War Office by the night watchman,
rifling a safe of valuable documents. You shot him with a pistol
equipped with a silencer. You shot down two more who, hearing his
cries, rushed to his aid. And you attempted to stroll out of the
building, apparently under the belief that you possessed mysterious
power which would afford you security."
"A little lapse of judgment such as may happen with the best laid
plans," smiled Von Kettler. "No, Superintendent, I'll be franker with
you than that. My capture was designed. It was decided to give the
Government an object lesson in our power. It was resolved that I
should permit myself to be captured, in order to demonstrate that you
cannot hang me, that I have merely to open the door of my cell, the
gates of this penitentiary, and walk out to freedom."
"Have you quite finished?" rasped the Superintendent.
"At your disposal," smiled the other.
"Here's your last chance, Von Kettler. Your persistence in this absurd
claim has actually shaken the expressed conviction of some of the
medical examiners that you are sane. If you will make that complete
written confession that the Government asks of you, I pledge you that
you shall be declared insane to-night, and sent to a sanitarium from
which you will be permitted to escape as soon as this affair has blown
over."
* * * * *
"The United States Government has sunk pretty low, to involve itself
in a deal of this character, don't you think, my dear Superintendent?"
jeered Von Kettler.
"The Government is prepared to act as it thinks best in the interests
of humanity. It knows that the death of one wretched murderer such as
yourself is not worth the lives of thousands of innocent men!"
"And there," smiled Von Kettler, without abating an atom of his
nonchalance, "there, my dear Superintendent, you hit the nail on the
head. Only, instead of thousands, you might have said millions."
Von Kettler's aspect changed. Suddenly his eyes blazed, his voice
shook with excitement, his face was the face of a fanatic, of a
prophet.
"Yes, millions, Superintendent," he thundered. "It it a holy cause
that inspires us. We know that it is our sacred mission to save the
world from the drabness of modern democracy. The people--always the
people! Bah! what are the lives of these swarming millions worth when
compared with a Caesar, a Napoleon, an Alexander, a Charlemagne?
Nothing can stop us or defeat us. And you, with your confession of
defeat, your petty bargaining--I laugh at you!"
"You'll laugh on the gallows to-morrow night!" the Superintendent
shouted.
Again Von Kettler was the calm, superior, arrogant prisoner of before.
"I shall never stand on the gallows trap, my dear Superintendent, as I
have told you many times," he replied. "And, since we have reached
what diplomacy calls a deadlock, permit me to return to my cell."
The Superintendent pressed a button on his desk; the guards, who had
been waiting outside the office, entered hastily. "Take this man
back," he commanded, and Von Kettler, head held high, and smiling,
left the room between them.
* * * * *
The Superintendent pressed another button, and his assistant entered,
a rugged, red-haired man of forty--Anstruther, familiarly known as
"Bull" Anstruther, the man who had in three weeks reduced the
penitentiary from a place of undisciplined chaos to a model of law
and order. Anstruther knew nothing of the Superintendent's offer to
Von Kettler, but he knew that the latter had powerful friends outside.
"Anstruther, I'm worried about Von Kettler," said the Superintendent.
"He actually laughed at me when I spoke of the possibility of another
medical examination. He seemed confident that he could not be hanged.
Swore that he will never stand on the gallows trap. How about your
precautions for to-morrow night?"
"We've taken all possible precautions," answered Anstruther. "Special
armed guards have been posted at every entrance to the building.
Detectives are patrolling all streets leading up to it. Every car that
passes is being scrutinized, its plate numbers taken, and forwarded to
the Motor Bureau. There's no chance of even an attempt at
rescue--literally none."
"He's insane," said the Superintendent, with conviction, and the words
filled him with new confidence. It had been less Von Kettler's
statements than the man's cool confidence and arrogant superiority
that had made him doubt. "But he's not too insane to have known what
he was doing. He'll hang."
"He certainly will," replied Anstruther. "He's just a big bluff, sir."
"Have him searched rigorously again to-morrow morning, and his cell
too--every inch of it, Anstruther. And don't relax an iota of your
precautions. I'll be glad when it's all over."
He proceeded to hold a long-distance conversation with Washington over
a special wire.
* * * * *
In his cell, Von Kettler could be seen reading a book. It was
Nietzsche's "Thus Spake Zarathusta," that compendium of aristocratic
insolence that once took the world by storm, until the author's
mentality was revealed by his commitment to a mad-house. Von Kettler
read till midnight, closely observed by the guard at the trap, then
laid the word aside with a yawn, lay down on his cot, and appeared to
fall instantly asleep.
Dawn broke. Von Kettler rose, breakfasted, smoked the perfecto that
came with his ham and eggs, resumed his book. At ten o'clock Bull
Anstruther came with a guard and stripped him to the skin, examining
every inch of his prison garments. The bedding followed; the cell was
gone over microscopically. Von Kettler, permitted to dress again,
smiled ironically. That smile stirred Anstruther's gall.
"We know you're just a big bluff, Von Kettler," snarled the big man.
"Don't think you've got us going. We're just taking the usual
precautions, that's all."
"So unnecessary," smiled Von Kettler. "To-night I shall dine at the
Ambassador grill. Watch for me there. I'll leave a memento."
Anstruther went out, choking. Early in the afternoon two guards came
for Von Kettler.
"Your sister's come to say good-by to you," he was told, as he was
taken to the visitors' cell.
This was a large and fairly comfortable cell in a corridor leading off
the death house, designed to impress visitors with the belief that it
was the condemned man's permanent abode; and, by a sort of convention,
it was understood that prisoners were not to disabuse their visitors'
minds of the idea. The convention had been honorably kept. The
visitor's approach was checked by a grill, with a two-yards space
between it and the bars of the cell. Within this space a guard was
seated: it was his duty to see that nothing passed.
* * * * *
As soon as Von Kettler had been temporarily established in his new
quarters, a pretty, fair-haired young woman came along the corridor,
conducted by the Superintendent himself. She walked with dignity, her
bearing was proud, she smiled at her brother through the grill, and
there was no trace of weeping about her eyes.
She bowed with pretty formality, and Von Kettler saluted her with an
airy wave of the hand. Then they began to speak, and the German guard
who had been selected for the purpose of interpreting to the
Superintendent afterward, was baffled.
It was not German--neither was it French, Italian, or any of the
Romance languages. As a matter of fact, it was Hungarian.
Not until the half-hour was up did they lapse into English, and all
the while they might have been conversing on art, literature, or
sport. There was no hint of tragedy in this last meeting.
"Good-by, Rudy," smiled his sister, "I'll see you soon."
"To-night or to-morrow," replied Von Kettler indifferently.
The girl blew him a kiss. She seemed to detach it from her mouth and
extend it through the grill with a graceful gesture of the hand, and
Von Kettler caught it with a romantic wave of the fingers and strained
it to his heart. But it was only one of those queer foreign ways.
Nothing was passed. The alert guard, sitting under the electric light,
was sure of that.
They searched Von Kettler again after he was back in the death house.
The other cells were empty. In three of them detectives were placed.
In the yard beyond the hangman was experimenting with the trap. He
himself was under close observation. Nothing was being left to chance.
* * * * *
At seven o'clock two men collided in the death-house entrance. One was
a guard, carrying Von Kettler's last meal on a tray. He had demanded
Perigord truffles and paté de foie gras, cold lobster, endive salad,
and near-beer, and he had got them. The other was the chaplain, in a
state of visible agitation.
"If he was an atheist and mocked at me it wouldn't be so bad," the
good man declared. "I've had plenty of that kind. But he says he's not
going to be hanged. He's mad, mad as a March hare. The Government has
no right to send an insane man to the gallows."
"All bluff, my dear Mr. Wright," answered the Superintendent, when the
chaplain voiced his protest. "He thinks he can get away with it. The
commission has pronounced him sane, and he must pay the penalty of his
crime."
By that mysterious process of telegraphy that exists in all penal
institutions, Von Kettler's boast that he would beat the hangman had
become the common information of the inmates. Bets were being laid,
and the odds against Von Kettler ranged from ten to fifteen to one. It
was generally agreed, however, that Von Kettler would die game to the
last.
"You all ready, Mr. Squires?" the prowling Superintendent asked the
hangman.
"Everything's O. K., sir."
The Superintendent glanced at the group of newspaper men gathered
about the gallows. They, too, had heard of the prisoner's boast. One
of them asked him a question. He silenced him with an angry look.
"The prisoner is in his cell, and will be led out in ten minutes. You
shall see for yourselves how much truth there it in this absurdity,"
he said.
* * * * *
He looked at his watch. It lacked five minutes of eight. The
preparations for an execution had been reduced almost to a formula.
One minute in the cell, twenty seconds to the trap, forty seconds for
the hangman to complete his arrangements: two minutes, and then the
thud of the false floor.
Four minutes of eight. The little group had fallen silent. The hangman
furtively took a drink from his hip-pocket flask. Three minutes! The
Superintendent walked back to the door of the death house and nodded
to the guard.
"Bring him out quick!" he said.
The guard shot the bolt of Von Kettler's cell. The Superintendent saw
him enter, heard a loud exclamation, and hurried to his side. One
glance told him that the prisoner had made good his boast.
Von Kettler's cell was empty!