DOCTOR TAGALA'S DISCOVERY
A glance at his watch as he entered the secret room showed The Phantom
that daybreak was not far away. In a little while it would be highly
unsafe for him to walk about the house; besides, the execution of his
next move depended for its success on darkness and quiet. To
jeopardize his project by a reckless move would be the height of folly
and might result in disastrous consequences. Much as his fears and
anxiety urged him to immediate action, The Phantom decided to wait
till the following night.
He lay down on the cot and slept by snatches. Now and then, as a faint
but terrifying sound came down the ventilator shaft, he awoke with a
start. Peals of unnatural laughter, sounding remotely in the darkness
of the hidden chamber, started a cold sweat on his forehead. By sheer
physical force he would shut out the sounds, knowing that for the
present he could do nothing, but the mutterings that fell from his
lips and the convulsive clenching of his hands boded no good for Mr.
Shei and his followers.
Morning came, and he tried to fix his mind on his forthcoming move. A
grim look came into his face as he contemplated the step he was about
to take. Ordinarily he would have shrunk from it in disgust, for it
was an expedient he had never employed in the past. Now, however, with
the life of Helen Hardwick in danger, he must employ whatever means
might prove effective. It was no time for niceties or scruples.
Besides, there was no reason why he should be restrained by ethical
considerations when dealing with blackguards like Mr. Shei and his
retainers.
The hours dragged. A troubled look on his face, The Phantom paced the
floor of the narrow chamber. His plans for the night were complete
except for one detail. Cudgel his brain as he might, there was one
small but important matter that continued to puzzle him. Evening came,
and the solution of the difficulty still eluded him. He was a little
faint from hunger, for he had not eaten for twenty-four hours, and he
wondered if his brain would not work better after a visit to the
pantry. In a little while the house would quiet down for the night,
and then he could safely leave his hiding place.
At last he was ready for action. He gave his automatic a careful
inspection. Into his pocket he put a coil of thin but strong rope
which he had unearthed from an old chest. Then he turned off the light
and ascended the spiral stairway. After listening in vain for sounds,
he tiptoed out in the hallway, then down the main stairway. The entire
house seemed immersed in sleep, and even the strained laughter had
stopped for a time. Evidently the occupants of the house, never
guessing that he was hiding in their very midst, supposed that The
Gray Phantom had left Azurecrest.
He felt more alert after gratifying his hunger in the well-stocked
pantry. By the back stairway he returned to the second floor. Silent
as a shadow he walked down the hall, pausing briefly before every door
and listening. It was important that he should locate Doctor Tagala's
room, for his whole plan revolved around the scientist. Also, he was
anxious to take the doctor completely by surprise.
At one of the doors he stopped longer than before the others. A faint
reek of chemicals filtered through the keyhole, and in a vague sense
the odor suggested Doctor Tagala's nearness. Neither light nor sound
came through the tiny opening, so evidently there was no one in the
room. The door was locked, but a simple operation with one of the
tools in his case opened it readily, and he stepped inside.
He peered sharply into the darkness before he thought it safe to snap
on his electric flash light. As the small point of light played over
floor and walls, he knew at once that the room was a chemical
laboratory. Chemistry had always held a strong fascination for him,
and his knowledge of the science was far more comprehensive than the
average layman's. Something prompted him to glance twice at the long
rows of bottles stacked on shelves around the room. Stepping closer,
he read some of the labels, and suddenly he gave a faint chuckle of
elation. The problem that had puzzled him all day was at last solved.
From its place on the shelf he took a small bottle containing a
colorless fluid, and slipped it into his pocket. The chemical was a
very ordinary one, but he expected it to serve a highly useful
purpose.
Again he darted the electric gleam over the room. At one side was a
door, and as he bent his ear to the keyhole he heard sounds of deep
and regular breathing. Something told him that the sleeper was Doctor
Tagala, for it seemed only logical that the scientist should occupy
the room adjoining the laboratory. Quickly extinguishing his flash
light, he turned the knob and noiselessly pushed the door open, then
stepped softly in the direction whence the sounds of breathing came.
Once more he brought his flash light into play, but only to assure
himself by a swift glance that the sleeper was Tagala.
A faint, triumphant grin curled his lips, and then the flash
disappeared in his pocket. For a moment, standing in utter darkness,
he tensed his muscles for action. In an instant he pressed his knee
firmly against the sleeper's chest and wound his fingers tightly
around Tagala's throat. A harsh rumble sounded in the doctor's
windpipe, but the firm clutch over his Adam's apple prevented an
outcry. He writhed, squirmed, doubled up his knees, and attempted to
fight with his arms, but The Phantom gradually increased the pressure
on his throat, and his struggle grew feebler and feebler. Finally,
when he was nearly exhausted, The Phantom took out a cloth with which
he had provided himself before leaving the secret room, and applied it
as a gag. The doctor made only a feeble show of resistance while his
arms and legs were bound, and finally The Phantom took the limp form
on his back and started from the room.
Every inch of the way was beset with perils. A board creaking under
the double weight of captor and captive might bring on a sudden
attack, or one of the occupants of the house might be encountered in
the hall. But luck was with The Phantom, and in a short time he had
placed his burden on the cot in the hidden chamber. Panting from the
strenuous exercise, he removed the gag from his prisoner's mouth, then
switched on the light.
The doctor, breathing stertorously, his face almost black from the
recent choking, wriggled his arms and legs in a futile effort to free
himself. Seeing it was hopeless, he subsided and looked dazedly about
him. His eyes opened wide as he saw The Phantom.
"You--again!" he exclaimed.
The Phantom smiled at sight of his stupefaction.
"You didn't suppose I would give up so easily; did you, doctor? You
don't seem particularly pleased to see me. No doubt you thought I left
Azurecrest after the fizzle last night. I suppose you are wondering
where you are. It is enough for you to know that you will never leave
this room until we have had an understanding, and that for the present
you may regard yourself as my prisoner. Your confederates will never
find you, and you may as well reconcile yourself to the fact that they
are unable to help you."
Tagala, gradually recovering breath and wits, looked balefully at The
Phantom.
"You--you will suffer for this!" he muttered thickly. Again he strained
at the cords around his ankles and wrists, but he soon saw that it was
useless. "We know how to deal with meddlers."
The Phantom smiled complacently. As yet it had not occurred to his
prisoner to cry for help, and The Phantom had no fear of the result if
he should do so. Though Slade and the others were not far away, they
were as harmless as if they did not exist. Save for the ventilating
shaft, the room was practically soundproof, and the exits were so
completely hidden that they would never be able to locate the chamber.
"We shall see," was his calm response. "Mr. Shei appears to be a very
shrewd man, but even he has his limitations. The infirmities of age
are beginning to show a marked effect on his strategy. He is too old
for this sort of thing."
"So," said the scientist in queer tones, "you think you know him?"
The Phantom nodded. "I had an encounter with him some years ago, and
he proved to me then that he had extraordinary astuteness. As a matter
of fact, he was a little too much for me. The other day I ran into him
by accident, and we had quite a pleasant little chat."
Tagala lay motionless on the cot while his eyes, slowly recovering
their customary brilliance, searched The Phantom's face.
"The police are laboring under the delusion that _you_ are Mr. Shei,"
he dryly observed.
"Oh, well, the police are not particularly bright at times." The
Phantom shrugged. "Now, doctor, you and I are going to have a very
serious talk. I was outmaneuvered last night, but this is my round. I
shall convince you by a very simple method that it will be wise for
you to place the antidote in my hands."
Despite his humiliation and physical discomfort, the doctor gave a
contemptuous laugh.
"Fool!" he snorted. "Every move you make is fore-doomed to failure. We
have provided against every possible emergency. Our plan is already a
certain success. Only this afternoon Mr. Shei telephones me from New
York that everything is going well. A group of the most celebrated
physicians in America have held several consultations without
practical results. They are utterly at a loss to diagnose the disease
or to prescribe even a palliative. Poor idiots! It took me years to
perfect the toxin, and they have only a few days in which to combat
its effects. On the seventh day after the inoculation, the seven
subjects will be doomed unless the antidote is administered in the
meantime. After the seventh day it will be too late. Mr. Shei told me
that two of the subjects are already in a mood to discuss terms.
Perhaps by to-morrow they will place half of their fortunes at Mr.
Shei's feet."
"You seem very confident of success," observed The Phantom.
"Our success is already assured. In a few days I shall be wealthier
than I ever before dreamed of being. Some people scoff at money, but
it is an excellent thing for all that. All my life, while pursuing my
scientific investigations, I have had my eye on what you Americans
call the main chance. I never dreamed that I should realize my hopes
through an accidental discovery. Ever hear of the datura plant?"
The Phantom shook his head.
"It grows in great profusion in my native soil, the Malay States, but
it can be transplanted or produced almost anywhere. It is an odd
plant, from four to six feet high, with wide-spreading branches and
black flowers that are shaped like trumpets. Children have been known
to die after eating the seeds, which are very poisonous. A few years
ago, after an extensive tour in Europe, I returned to my native land
and was called upon to treat a child who had eaten a great quantity of
the seeds. It was then I made the discovery that shall make me a
wealthy man in a few days. It was a mere accident, but isn't our whole
life a series of accidents?"
He smiled philosophically, for he had quite recovered from the effects
of his recent humiliation.
"If you will permit me to explain a little further," he went on, "I
think you will understand how invincible we are and how foolish it is
for you to oppose us. The poisonous property of the datura plant is
known as daturin. It is a very curious drug. Its active principle is a
mixture of a kind of atropine and hyoscyamine, but the true nature of
the component alkaloids has never been fully determined. It is one of
the mysteries of nature. Among the symptoms of datura poisoning are
hoarseness, dryness of the mouth, dilation of the pupils, disturbed
heart action, bad memory, and a curious vocal affection that produces
involuntary laughter. No chemical antidote had been either known or
suggested until I made my accidental discovery. It has suited my
purpose to keep that discovery to myself."
There was an elated smirk on his face, and The Phantom turned away in
disgust.
"I came to America," continued the doctor in oily tones, "and by mere
chance made the acquaintance of our remarkable Mr. Shei. I shall not
weary you by reciting all the details. I happened to mention my
discovery to Mr. Shei, and his brilliant mind immediately conceived
the idea of putting it to a highly profitable use. Like all great
things, his plan was simplicity itself. His theory was based on the
fact, so aptly stated by yourself last night, that the average run of
mortals can be most effectively controlled through the factor of fear.
He suggested that if a deadly malady were communicated to a number of
wealthy men, they could easily be persuaded to pay almost any price
for a sure antidote, especially if the antidote were the exclusive
property of an individual or an organization.
"That was the beginning of the idea. It required quite a little
elaboration. The chief factors in the plan were the poison and the
antidote. The antidote was in readiness, but the poison had to be so
adjusted that it would produce death within a specified time unless
the antidote were administered meanwhile. If the plan was to succeed,
we must be in a position to tell the subjects that they would die
within a certain number of days unless they paid our price for the
antidote. You probably know, since you appear to be an educated man,
that the ancient Chinese knew how to adjust poisons so as to produce
death within a certain time. All my life I have been making special
studies along that line, and my discoveries proved very valuable in
connection with Mr. Shei's project. Yet, for a long time, I was unable
to adjust the poison with sufficient accuracy. With Mr. Shei's
assistance I fitted up a laboratory here and began making additional
researches. It was necessary to have human subjects for the
experiments, and Mr. Shei furnished me several. Two or three, who were
inoculated in the early stages of the work, failed to react properly
to the antidote, and one or two of them were unfortunate enough to
die."
"You murdered them, in plain words," suggested The Phantom curtly.
"Harsh word, my dear Gray Phantom. As a whole, the experiments were
highly successful. I discovered how to adjust the poison so as to
produce death within a specified time. We were now ready to go ahead
with the plan. Mr. Shei selected the victims, and I showed a number of
his most trusted men how the poison was to be injected. Each of these,
with an assistant, was assigned to one of the seven victims chosen by
Mr. Shei, and the whole number of inoculations were successfully
accomplished the other night. In a few days----"
"What about Miss Darrow?" inquired The Phantom brusquely. "What did
you gain by murdering her?"
"Really, I wish you would drop that unpleasant word from your
vocabulary. Miss Darrow had been unfortunate enough to learn certain
facts which were detrimental to Mr. Shei. She had been watched
constantly, and she was followed to the Thelma that night. Her actions
were peculiar, and Mr. Shei's agents suspected she was on the point of
making embarrassing revelations. I was in New York at the time and
happened to be within reach, so the agents communicated with me. I
arrived just in time to prevent unpleasant consequences. In another
moment she might have made some very damaging disclosures. In fact,
she had already sent a peculiarly worded note to that remarkable
person whose name eludes me."
"Vincent Starr?" suggested The Phantom.
"Precisely. Mr. Starr is one of your highly temperamental geniuses.
Just how much Miss Darrow had learned will never be known, but I
thought it advisable to act promptly. The amount of poison I injected
into her veins was carefully calculated to produce death within a few
minutes."
The Phantom mastered his sense of loathing. What he was learning might
prove highly useful later on.
"Wouldn't a knife thrust have been quicker and safer?" he suggested.
"Even in the few minutes between the inoculation of the poison and
Miss Darrow's death she might have blurted out all she knew."
"There was slight danger of that. The poison always blunts one's
mental faculties, especially when given in such a large dose. It was
very unlikely that Miss Darrow would speak coherently in the brief
interval while the poison acted. A quick thrust with a knife would
perhaps have been safer, but we needed the moral effect."
"The--_what_?"
The satisfied gleam in the doctor's eyes testified that he was quite
at ease once more, despite the cords that incapacitated him for
action.
"Yes, the moral effect was valuable. You see, the seven victims
selected by Mr. Shei had to be impressed with the deadliness of the
poison. Unless they were thoroughly convinced that the poison would
kill, they might not have been amenable to reason. Miss Darrow's
death, coming just a day or two before the seven were inoculated, was
a valuable object lesson."
An oily smile creased the scientist's swarthy features. Once more,
despite his uncomfortable position, he seemed hugely content.
"No doubt," admitted The Phantom ironically. "Mr. Shei doesn't seem to
have overlooked anything. What I can't understand is why you, a man of
scientific attainments, should consent to do the bidding of such a
blackguard."
"Wealth is a very excellent thing," said Tagala musingly. "It is even
more desirable than fame. Mr. Shei has put me in the way of acquiring
a great fortune, so why should I not serve him?"
"And what are you going to do with the money after you have acquired
it by such vile methods, granting that your scheme succeeds?"
"Enjoy life, my friend." The doctor's repulsive features were wreathed
in smiles. "I have a great capacity for appreciating the beautiful
things in life. Nature works by contrasts. She treated me very
shabbily as far as physical characteristics are concerned, but by way
of compensation she gave me a taste for the only things that really
matter. I intend to surround myself with luxuries that an Indian
maharajah might envy. I intend to feast my eyes on the costliest and
the best the world can produce. Now perhaps you understand?"
The Phantom nodded. Inwardly he tingled and glowed, but his face
showed nothing but boredom and disgust. The insight he had just
obtained into Tagala's character would have an important bearing on
his plan.
"And now that we understand each other," the doctor continued, "let us
terminate this rather dreary farce. This little room is pleasant
enough, but I never sleep well in strange places, and these cords are
not inducive to repose."
"You will be free to go wherever you please as soon as we have settled
the little matter I mentioned a moment ago."
"Ah! Then you persist in your foolish determination. Your experience
last night should have convinced you of the futility of your efforts,
but I see you are as stubborn as ever."
"More so," The Phantom assured him. "I have discovered a new weapon
since last night. Before you leave this room, you will have told me
where the antidote is hidden."
Tagala grinned insolently. He tilted his head back against the pillow
and complacently regarded The Phantom.
"You are very amusing," he murmured. "I thought that----"
He stopped and looked toward a corner of the ceiling. The Phantom
followed his glance, and his figure tensed perceptibly. From somewhere
above their heads came strains of soft, lilting laughter, edged now
and then with a hysterical vibration. A pallor began to spread over
The Phantom's face.
"There, my dear Gray Phantom," said the doctor elatedly, "is your
answer."
The Phantom clenched his fingers spasmodically. His face was hard and
his eyes held a strange gleam.
"You are mistaken, doctor." He clipped off the words with sinister
precision. "Until a moment ago I had silly scruples about employing my
latest weapon. After hearing that," and he inclined his head toward
the corner of the ceiling, "I have concluded that any methods are fair
when dealing with scoundrels of your type."
"That is obviously true," assented Tagala cheerfully. "The only
difficulty is that any methods you employ are certain to prove
ineffective. Please don't make any more threats against my life. I
should laugh, and that would be impolite."
The Phantom came a step nearer the cot. "No," he said grimly, "I have
no intention of doing anything so futile. I have the best reason in
the world for not wanting you to die just yet. Also, I have discovered
a much more effective way of dealing with you."
An odd emphasis in his tones seemed to impress the doctor. A flicker
of uneasiness crossed his face, but it was gone in a moment.
"Ah!" he murmured derisively. "I might have foreseen it. You mean to
force me to surrender the antidote by torturing me. It is an
improvement on your previous method, but it will prove just as
useless. Torture is unpleasant but I can endure any amount of it."
"Mistaken again, doctor. Torture is a little too crude, and I am not
sure you are the type of man that could be influenced by it. The plan
I have in mind is subtler and surer. You told me a moment ago that
your highest aim in life is the enjoyment of beautiful things and the
pursuit of pleasure."
"I told you the truth." This time there was a trace of bewilderment in
Tagala's tones.
From his pocket The Phantom drew the bottle he had taken from the
laboratory. He studied the label with a preoccupied air, then held it
so the man on the cot could read the inscription. Tagala's eye
narrowed in perplexity.
"I have been told," said The Phantom casually, "that a single drop of
this fluid, when injected into the eye, is sufficient to cause
blindness."
The doctor's hands and feet strained spasmodically against the cords.
A quick muscular contraction told that The Phantom had found his
sensitive spot.
"Blind men are not particularly appreciative of the luxuries and
pleasures you so vividly described a while ago," The Phantom went on.
His voice was soft, but there was a faint throb to his tones. "What
good will it do a man to accumulate costly and beautiful things if he
can't see them?"
A grayish tinge crept into Tagala's face. His eyes, with a look of
horror lurking in their depths, were fixed rigidly on The Phantom's
face.
The Phantom held the bottle to the light. A faint but ominous smile
was playing about his lips.
"Just a drop of colorless liquid!" he murmured. "But what a different
complexion it would put on your prospects, Tagala! All the money you
hope to get through Mr. Shei would be only so much rubbish. All the
wealth in the world couldn't relieve your misery. Don't you think you
had better reconsider?"
The scientist's lips fluttered, but no words came. A look of
abhorrence accentuated the repulsiveness of his face.
With a quick movement The Phantom stepped toward the cot. The doctor
wiggled and squirmed, but was unable to move.
"Perhaps, just to convince you that I am in earnest, I had better
begin by blinding the left eye now," The Phantom went on, bending
slightly over the trembling man. With two fingers of one hand he
pressed back the lids of the doctor's left eye while holding the
bottle in the other. The scientist rolled from side to side, but the
firm pressure of The Phantom's knee against his chest checked his
efforts. Finally, as The Phantom was tilting the little bottle against
the exposed eye, a great sigh of horror broke from the doctor's lips.
"Stop!" he cried, almost overcome by terror. "You have won. I will do
anything you demand. Only don't blind me!"