Teddy felt the fallen man's breast, but he was not breathing. In any
event there was nothing that could have been done for him. An artery
had been cut by a splinter of the one-pounder shell that had smashed
the roof, and he had bled quietly to death, only trying desperately to
land and get assistance before he died. The sight of Teddy and Davis
sprinting toward him with drawn pistols had been too much for his
hatred, however, and he had fired his automatic at them even as he was
dying. Teddy found Davis lying on the ground with a bullet in his hip.
"I'm all right, Gerrod," said Davis cheerfully when Teddy went to him.
"Just see if there are any more chaps in these houses before you bother
with me."
Teddy explored the place thoroughly. There were many signs of human
occupancy, but no one save Varrhus himself had been there when they
landed. He returned to Davis to find him weakly trying to improvise
a pad to stop the bleeding. Teddy lifted him and carried him to the
house that seemed to be most used. In a little while Davis was quite
comfortable and contented. He lit a cigarette and calmly began to read
one of the newspapers that littered the place, while Teddy continued
his explorations.
The landing field was a small one, no more than a hundred and fifty
yards long by seventy-five wide. At one end was an unpretentious but
comfortable dwelling, in one of whose rooms Davis was at that moment
resting. At the other end a shed evidently formed the hangar for the
black flyer. Along the sides of the inclosure were long sheds, some of
them empty, some containing supplies of various sorts. Half a dozen
cold bombs, complete except for the mysterious treatment of their
surface that gave them their strange property, lay on the floor of one
of the sheds along the sides. Another shed, long disused, had provided
quarters for workmen. Teddy found the single exit that led from the
inclosure. It opened on the wide hillside and afforded a view of miles
without a sign of human habitation. The remnant of a wheel track that
had obviously not been traveled for months led away from the door.
Along that primitive road the materials for building the inclosure and
the black flyer had evidently been brought. Teddy went back to Davis.
"Gerrod," said Davis amiably, "I'm a fake. I'd lost quite some blood,
you know, and I was pretty weak, but while you were gone I saw a small
black bottle on a shelf over there, and I managed to crawl over to it.
Wherever we are, prohibition hasn't struck in, and I took just enough
to feel all right again. I believe I can drive back. It wasn't more
than a two-hour drive anyway, was it?'
"Between two and three," said Teddy, smiling. "We were making terrific
speed, though. We're probably in Newfoundland somewhere."
"Or Iceland. To tell the truth, I'm quite indifferent. Suppose you help
me out to the machine again."
"I want to see what I can find in the laboratory first," said Teddy.
The laboratory was of the smallest. Whatever experiments had been
necessary to perfect the cold bombs and the black flyer had been made
elsewhere. Teddy found a number of notebooks, which he took. He found
many chemicals, some in considerable quantities, in receptacles about
the laboratory, but no clew to the mysterious process that had enabled
Varrhus to threaten the world's security. He left Varrhus where he
lay. Both he and Davis confidently expected to return and investigate
thoroughly both the cold bombs and the black flyer. Davis, especially,
was anxious to examine that strange machine in detail, but his wound
was painful and he wished to have it properly dressed. Besides this,
the whole world was waiting anxiously to learn its fate, whether
Varrhus' ambitious plans were to be frustrated or whether it would have
to put its neck beneath the heel of the mad dictator.
Teddy lifted Davis in the machine, and after some difficulty they
started off. Davis circled above the small clearing until it was tiny
beneath them.
"Course is southwest," he remarked to Teddy. "We'll notice where we
land and then a northeast course will bring us back here again or
nearly."
"Right," said Teddy abstractedly. His mind leaped ahead to the moment
when he would see Evelyn again. He had seen her just before starting
for Noman's Reef and she had seemed pale and anxious. He was not sure,
but he hoped he was right in believing that she was more anxious than
she would have been had she looked on him merely as a friend or comrade.
The biplane sped over the sea across which it had flown in such
desperate haste that morning. Davis was weak, but for straightaway
flying modern machines need but little attention. The new inherently
stable aëroplanes are so safe that an amateur could pilot one in
midflight. And Davis had taken a small quantity of stimulant to
supplement his strength. At that, however, his endurance was severely
taxed before he flattened out and taxied across the landing field on
Staten Island. Mechanics rushed out to greet him and help him from the
machine.
"Varrhus is dead and the black flyer is smashed," said Davis
cheerfully, and incontinently fainted.
Teddy made a hasty report to the commandant of the forts and rushed
to New York. The second cold bomb had exploded that morning and the
city was panic-stricken, but as his taxicab sped uptown the extras
began to appear announcing the removal of the menace to the world. The
frightened crowds changed to happy, cheering ones. If Teddy's identity
had been suspected as he passed swiftly through the streets, he would
never have gotten through. He would have been dragged from the motor
car to be cheered and recheered. As it was, he made his way quickly to
Evelyn's home.
He sprang up the steps and burst open the door, not waiting for the
servant to open it. As he rushed into the hall, Evelyn came into it
through an open door. She saw him, and her face was suffused with joy.
"You're safe!" she cried joyfully, and burst into happy tears.
Teddy took her quite naturally into his arms and held her there a
moment. She sobbed quietly on his shoulder for a second, clinging
to him, then pushed him away and stared at him while a hot flush
overspread her face.
"Oh!" she exclaimed in a rush of shame. "I--I----" She turned and ran
away. Teddy caught her.
"What's the matter?" he demanded. Her cheeks were still crimson.
"I--I kissed you," she said desperately, "and you--you hadn't said----"
Teddy laughed happily. "I hadn't said I loved you? Well, if that's all
that's bothering you, just listen." And Teddy said it several times.
Davis was up and about in less than a week. His wound had been of
little importance, and with a crutch which he took pride in using with
dexterity he was able to move around almost as well as ever. He came
over to tea with Evelyn one afternoon. Teddy was there, too, of course.
Davis was boyishly showing off how well he could move about Teddy
watched him critically.
"That's all right, Davis," he said in a paternal tone, "but you want to
get rid of that instrument as soon as you can."
"What for?" demanded Davis, deftly swinging himself into a chair.
"We're waiting for you to get well," explained Teddy, with a smile at
Evelyn. "It isn't considered good form to have a groomsman who's a
cripple."
"Groomsman? Who? What? You two?" Davis stared from one to the other.
Teddy nodded, and Evelyn turned slightly pink. Davis turned to Teddy.
"They tell me you and I are to be impressively decorated for smashing
Varrhus," he complained, "and there'll be moving pictures taken of it
and shown everywhere. I want to be a touching picture, all wounded up,
you know, when that happens. A girl threw me over about six months ago
and she likes the movies. When she sees me beautifully mangled and
being kissed by bearded people who pin medals on me she'll be sorry.
Mayn't I wear a crutch until then?"
Teddy laughed, and Evelyn smiled affectionately at Davis.
"If it's like that, of course," said Evelyn, "we'll wait. But Teddy's
in an awful hurry."
"I would be, too, in his place," said Davis promptly. He assumed an
expression of extreme reluctance. "Well, I suppose I'll have to get
well."
Teddy shamelessly squeezed Evelyn's hand, and she as shamelessly
squeezed back.
"There are compensations for having to wait," said Teddy generously,
"provided, of course, it isn't too long."
Davis looked at them and his eyes twinkled.
"Well, then, in that case----" He started for the rear of the house.
"Where are you going?"
Davis looked over his shoulder with a grin.
"You people compensate each other for waiting," he said amiably. "_I'm_
going to go out in the laboratory and kiss the galvanometer."
End of Project Gutenberg's A Thousand Degrees Below Zero, by Murray Leinster