"IT seems likely," said the President, with singular irrelevance, "that
there will be a slump in radium."
"All South Africans are down," remarked Chillingford gloomily. "What in
the world are you fellows laughing at?"
"It isn't a mine, Tommy. It's a horse. Won the Nobel Stakes," Marmaduke
Percy called out.
"Order, gentlemen, if you please," continued the President. "I was
remarking on the probability of a slump in radium. This is what to-day's
paper says:
"'£896,000 was recently quoted as the market price for a single pound of
radium. We suggest that it would be advisable for any holder to realise
promptly, as Professor Blyth has discovered a method of obtaining this
remarkable element from a substance other than pitch-blende. He has
already isolated one ounce avoirdupois--at yesterday's price worth
£56,000--which has been exhibited to a select number of scientists at
his laboratory at Harlesden Green.
"'It seems likely that radium will no longer remain the toy of the
conversazione, but that it will take its place among the great forces of
civilisation. As a moderate-sized cube of it is sufficient to warm the
dining-room of an average ratepayer for something like two thousand
years, we shall no doubt find in this element the motive power of the
future. The smoke nuisance of our great towns will disappear, ocean
coaling stations will no longer be necessary, and incidentally about a
million workers in the coal trade will be thrown out of employment.'
"This, gentlemen, is from the _Daily Argus_ of to-day."
"Take your word for it, old man," "Carried _nem. con._," and sundry
other similar cries greeted the speaker.
The Duke waved his hand disparagingly. "Our secretary informs me," he
went on, "that the subscription of Major Everett Anstruther is now due.
It is suggested that he should produce this £56,000 worth of radium at
our next meeting in payment thereof; although I believe that is
something less than the value of membership of our Club."
That is why, on April 4th last, Major Everett Anstruther climbed the
wall at the back of Professor Blyth's house at Harlesden.
His methods were those of the average burglar. He forced back the catch
of one of the windows, drew up the sash, and stepped gently down from
the window-sill into the room.
He was in the Professor's laboratory, a one-storeyed building joined to
the dwelling-house by a corridor.
Anstruther turned on his portable electric light, and took his bearings.
He was in an ordinary scientific laboratory, surrounded by induction
coils, Crookes' tubes, balances, prismatic and optical instruments, and
other and more complicated apparatus, the use of which he could not
guess.
He walked slowly round, observing every corner. Where was the radium? He
had read up the subject, and had learnt of its power to penetrate almost
any substance, and now he turned off his light, hoping to see its rays.
There was nothing but absolute darkness.
He resolved to explore further. He opened the door gently. In front of
him was the passage leading to the house. At his left another door--wide
open.
He stopped before it in mute surprise and admiration.
On a table in the middle of the room was a luminous mass. The wall
behind was aglow with a dancing, scintillating light. The rest of the
room was in darkness, save for the dim light cast by the glowing mass
and the phosphorescent screen behind.
It was the radium! How could the Professor leave it in so exposed a
place? No doubt it was there that it had been exhibited to the
scientists--but £56,000 worth left on a table for anyone to handle! It
was absurd. Only a professor would have done it.
But it wasn't for him to grumble at the peculiar methods of learned men,
and with a cheerful heart Anstruther stepped lightly into the room.
As he did so the door closed behind him with a click. The Major paused.
"That's queer," he thought. "I didn't feel a draught, and I didn't touch
the door."
Luckily the laboratory was isolated from the rest of the house, so the
slight noise would not have been heard. He waited for some minutes to
reassure himself; then he stepped back to the door and gently turned the
knob, without result. He pushed; pulled and pushed; lifted and pushed;
pressed down and pushed; tried in every way he could think of, but the
door would not open.
He examined it carefully. Save for its knob its surface was absolutely
plain. There was no keyhole or latch.
"Trapped, by Jove!" Anstruther exclaimed under his breath; and as his
unpleasant situation dawned upon him he felt more uncomfortable than he
had ever done in his life before. In fact, he felt physically ill.
"Confound it!" he thought. "It's deuced annoying, but it isn't as bad as
all that. I don't know why it should bowl me over. Perhaps there's
another way out of this den."
He walked round the room, feeling the wall for some shutter, even
searching the floor for a trap-door. There was none. Save for a
telephone and the table, he encountered nothing but plain surface.
"Of all the infernal holes to be in," he muttered. "Trapped like this,
and all through my own carelessness." And then it occurred to him that
he, Everett Anstruther, late a major of his Majesty's Horse Guards Blue,
and now member of Parliament for Helston, would in a few hours be haled
away to prison on a charge of attempted burglary. A pleasant situation,
truly!
He felt ill--worse than before. His head ached, and his temples
throbbed. What on earth did it mean? He had been in tight places
before--once in Italy, when his life wasn't worth a moment's purchase,
and then he was absolutely cool. But now----
[Illustration: "'YOU ARE A THIEF.'"
(_p. 93._)]
He started as if a pistol had been fired. A bell had rung behind him--an
electric bell. It was the telephone bell, and it was still ringing. He
watched it in dismay. It would rouse the whole house. Lift down the
receiver, of course. He did so. The bell stopped. He put the receiver to
his ear.
"Are you there?" a voice asked.
He did not reply. There was no need. While the receiver was off the bell
wouldn't ring.
"If you don't answer I shall wake the house," came the voice, as if in
answer to his thoughts.
The Major groaned inwardly. "Yes, I'm here," he replied.
"Good. How do you feel?"
"Oh, pretty tollollish," he answered. "Must be the doctor," he thought.
"What is your name?"
"Smithers," said the Major, with a sudden inspiration. "John
Smithers."
"John Smithers," came the slow response. "Thank you. Your age last
birthday?"
"It seems to me he has been examining Blyth's factotum for life
insurance," thought the Major. "Lucky I caught on so well. But what an
extraordinary idea to collect these statistics at something after
midnight."
"Age last birthday, please," came down the wire again.
"Thirty-five," replied the Major. "Nothing like the truth in an
emergency," he added to himself.
"John Smithers, aged thirty-five," was repeated. "Late occupation?"
"Soldier."
"Good. Very good. Late occupation, soldier. Any pension?"
"Yes."
"What a fool you are to risk it for a bit of radium."
The Major stepped back in sheer amazement. "What did you say?" he asked.
"Whatever made you risk your pension for a bit of radium?"
"Don't know what you mean."
"Then I'll explain. You are a thief, locked up in Professor Blyth's dark
room. Isn't that so?"
"Who are you?" asked the Major in dismay.
"Professor Blyth."
"The devil!" Anstruther ejaculated.
"No, sir--Professor Blyth," came the response.
"Where are you?" asked the Major.
"I am in the room at the end of the corridor. I can observe the door of
your room from where I stand, and I have a loaded revolver in my hand."
"What are you going to do?"
"That depends upon you. I can either send for the police, and give you
in charge, or I can take scientific observations with your
assistance--whichever you prefer."
"What do you mean by scientific observations?"
"You are locked up in a room twelve feet square with an ounce of
radium."
"Well?"
"You are the first man in the world who has been locked up with an ounce
of radium in a room twelve feet square, and your sensations would be of
scientific value. If you care to describe them to me by telephone so
long as you are conscious, I will not prosecute; otherwise I will place
the matter in the hands of the police. Which do you prefer to do?"
"You are remarkably kind to offer me the alternative. I think I prefer
to describe my sensations."
"Thank you. I am really very much obliged to you, John Smithers; but I
ought to warn you beforehand that you will be put to great personal
inconvenience. If you decide to try the experiment I shall not release
you for some hours. I shall certainly not break off in the middle,
however ill you feel."
"I have told you my choice," said Anstruther curtly.
"Right. Stop, though. What sort of a heart have you?"
"Strong."
"Good. You'll need it. Got a watch?"
"Yes."
"Can you take your pulse?"
"Yes."
"You are a real treasure, John Smithers. I'm glad you called. You've
been fifteen minutes in the room. What is your pulse?"
"Seventy-three."
"Thank you. Can you read a clinical thermometer?"
"Yes."
"On the ledge of the telephone, where the paper is, you will find a
tube. Got it? There's a thermometer inside. Please take it out, and read
it carefully."
"Ninety-seven," said the Major.
"Thank you. I had no idea the army was so intelligent. How the papers do
deceive us! Now put the thermometer under your tongue for two minutes,
and then let me know what it registers."
"Ninety-nine," came the eventual response.
"Thank you. Horse or foot soldier, Smithers?"
"Horse."
"Horse. Thank you. Married?"
"No."
"Good again, Smithers. No one dependent upon you, I hope? Have you a
headache?"
"It's enough to give me one, answering all your questions."
"Please describe symptoms, and not attempt to diagnose them. Have you a
headache?"
"Yes."
"How's your heart?"
"Beats irregularly."
"Probably it will. Respiration?"
"It's rather choky here. Can't you let me have a breath of fresh air?"
"On no account, Smithers--on no account. I'm surprised at your
suggesting such a thing. That will do for the present. I'll ring up
again shortly, and I'm always here if you want me. You might take a
little gentle exercise now."
The major hung up his receiver. The room seemed to be much lighter now.
The radium glowed more brightly, and the scintillations on the wall
behind had increased in intensity. He advanced towards the radium, and
was immediately conscious that his discomfort increased. There was a
smarting sensation on the front of his body, as if it were exposed to
fire. His breathing became more difficult, his headache increased. He
drew back to the wall, and the symptoms became less marked.
The bell rang again. "I ought to inform you, Smithers," said the voice,
"that no good at all would result from your attempting to destroy the
radium. As a matter of fact, if you broke or crushed it you would feel
very much worse. The particles would fly all over, and you would inhale
them. The symptoms would be intensely interesting if you would care to
experience them, but I won't answer for the consequences. I just want
you to understand that you can't possibly escape from this important new
element when once you are imprisoned in a room with it, especially when
the room is only twelve feet square."
The major did not reply. He hung up his receiver in silence.
At the other end of the telephone was Robert Blyth, F.R.S., D.Sc., etc.,
etc., a little red-haired man, whose researches on the Mutilation and
Redintegration of Crystals are of world-renown.
He was a grave little man as a rule. Only when on the verge of some
discovery, or when watching the successful progress of an experiment,
did he wax cheerful. He did this now as he surveyed his notes of the
report of John Smithers, a horse-soldier, in durance vile in the
adjoining room.
"Pulse, 73; temperature, 99; heart, irregular. Good. Respiration
difficult. Well, that's understandable. He's been in there thirty-one
minutes. Thanks to a strong constitution, he's scarcely felt anything
yet; but now he'll have trouble. John Smithers, you are going to have
an exceedingly bad time of it. If you weren't a criminal I should
hesitate in giving it you. As it is, you must suffer for the cause of
science. Your experience will, no doubt, make you hesitate before you
attempt another crime."
The professor tilted back his chair. "Strange," he mused, "how brain
controls matter to the end. Here's John Smithers in the next room--a
strong man admittedly--cribbed, cabined, and confined by a man he could
probably crumple up with one hand. It was a stroke of genius to
advertise my discovery in the papers. The criminal classes all read them
now, and I thought I should probably attract a thief. I placed the
radium in the middle of the room, and painted the wall behind with
sulphide of zinc so that he couldn't possibly miss it. I easily
constructed a threshold that closed the door when stepped upon. And then
I had only to wait."