It was shortly before dawn when we alighted from the train in Washington.
Newsboys were calling extras:
“Terrible disaster! Nine thousand lives lost in Mississippi River!”
Purchasing copies of the papers, Dr. Gresham called a taxicab and
directed the chauffeur to take us as rapidly as possible to the United
States Naval Observatory in Georgetown. We read the news as we rode along.
The great railroad bridge across the Mississippi River at St. Louis had
collapsed, plunging three trains into the stream and drowning virtually
all the passengers; and a few minutes later the Mississippi had ceased to
flow past the city, pouring into a huge gap that suddenly had opened in
the earth at a point about twenty-five miles northwest of the town.
Nearly everyone in St. Louis who could get an automobile had started for
the point where the Mississippi was tumbling into the earth, and before
long a vast crowd had assembled along the edges of the steaming chasm,
watching the phenomenon.
Suddenly there had come a heavy shock underground and the crack had
heaved nearly shut, sending a vast geyser, the full width of the stream,
spouting a couple of thousand feet aloft. A few moments later this
huge column of water had thundered back upon the river banks where the
spectators were gathered, stunning and engulfing thousands. At the same
time the gash had opened again and into it the torrent had swept the
helpless multitude. Then it had closed once more and remained so, and the
river had resumed its flow.
It was estimated that more than 9,000 persons had perished.
“Kwo-Sung-tao has stopped his earthquakes,” remarked Dr. Gresham, when
he had finished scanning the newspaper reports, “but irreparable damage
has been done. Enough water doubtless has found its way into the heated
interior of the globe to form a steam pressure that will play havoc.”
Soon we drew up at the white-domed observatory crowning the wooded hill
beyond Wisconsin Avenue. It was our good fortune to find Professor Howard
Whiteman and several prominent members of the international scientific
congress still there.
After a brief conversation with these gentlemen—to whom he was well known
by reputation—Dr. Gresham drew Professor Whiteman and two of his chief
assistants aside and began questioning them about the disturbances. He
gave not the slightest hint of his knowledge of the Seuen-H’sin.
The doctor was particularly interested in every detail regarding the
course taken by the quakes—whether or not all of them had come from the
same direction, what that direction was, and how far away the point of
origin seemed to be.
Professor Whiteman said the seismographs indicated the tremors all _had_
come from one direction—a point somewhere to the northwest—and had
traveled in a general southeasterly course. It was his opinion that the
seat of the disturbances was about 3,000 miles distant—certainly not more
than 4,000 miles.
This appeared greatly to surprise my companion and to upset whatever
theories he might have in mind. Finally he asked to see all the data on
the tremors, especially the actual seismograph records. At once we were
taken to the building where these records were kept.
For more than an hour Dr. Gresham intently studied the charts and
calculations, making new computations of his own and referring to
numerous maps. But the longer he worked, the more puzzled he became.
Suddenly he looked up with an exclamation, and after seemingly weighing
some new idea, he turned to me and said:
“Arthur, I need your help. Go to one of the newspaper offices and look
through the files of old copies for an account of the capture of the
Pacific Steamship _Nippon_ by Chinese pirates. Try to find out what cargo
the vessel carried. If the newspaper accounts do not give this, then try
at the State Department. But hurry!”
We had kept our taxicab waiting, so I was soon speeding toward one of the
newspaper offices on Pennsylvania Avenue. As I rode along I brought to
mind the strange and terrible story of the great Pacific liner.
The _Nippon_ was the newest and largest of the fleet of huge ships in
service between San Francisco and the Orient. Fifteen months previous,
while running from Nagasaki to Shanghai, across the entrance to the
Yellow Sea, she had encountered a typhoon of such violence that one of
her propeller shafts was damaged, and after the storm abated she was
obliged to stop at sea for repairs.
It was an intensely dark, quiet night. About midnight the officer of the
watch suddenly heard from the deck amidship a wild, long-drawn yell.
Then all became quiet again. As he started to descend from the bridge he
heard bare feet pattering along the deck below. And then more cries arose
forward—the most awful sounds. Rushing to his cabin, he seized a revolver
and returned to the deck.
Surging over the rail at a dozen points were savage, half-naked yellow
forms, gripping long, curved knives—the dreaded but almost-extinct
Chinese pirates of the Yellow Sea. The fiends swiftly attacked a number
of passengers who had been promenading about, murdering them in cold
blood.
Meanwhile, other pirates were rushing to all parts of the ship.
As soon as he recovered from his first horrified shock, the officer
leaped toward a group of the Chinamen and emptied his revolver into them.
But the pirates far outnumbered the cartridges in his weapon, and when
his last bullet had been fired several of the yellow devils darted at
him with gleaming knives. Whereupon the officer turned and fled to the
wireless operator’s room nearby.
He got inside and fastened the heavy door just a second ahead of his
pursuers. While the Chinamen were battering at the portal, he had the
operator send out wireless calls for help, telling what was occurring on
board.
Several ships and land stations picked up the strange story as far as I
have related it, at which point the message ceased abruptly.
From that instant the _Nippon_ vanished as completely as if she never had
existed. Not one word ever again was heard of the vessel or of a single
soul on board.
It required only a few minutes’ search through the newspaper files to
find the information I sought, and soon I was back at the observatory.
Dr. Gresham greeted me eagerly.
“The Steamship _Nippon_,” I reported, “carried a cargo of American shoes,
plows and lumber.”
My friend’s face fell with keen disappointment.
“What else?” he inquired. “Weren’t there other things?”
“Lots of odds and ends,” I replied—“pianos, automobiles, sewing machines,
machinery—”
“_Machinery?_” the doctor shot out quickly. “What kind of machinery?”
I drew from my pocket the penciled notes I had made at the newspaper
office and glanced over the items.
“Some electrical equipment,” I answered. “Dynamos, turbines,
switchboards, copper cable—all such things—for a hydro-electric plant
near Hong-kong.”
“Ah!” exclaimed the doctor in elation. “I was sure of it! We may be
getting at the mystery at last!”
Seizing the memoranda, he ran his eyes hurriedly down the list of items.
Profound confidence marked his bearing when he turned to Professor
Whiteman a moment later and said:
“I must obtain an immediate audience with the President of the United
States. You know him personally. Can you arrange it?”
Professor Whiteman could not conceal his surprise.
“Concerning these earthquakes?” he inquired.
“Yes!” my friend assured him.
The astronomer looked at his colleague keenly.
“I will see what I can do,” he said. And he went off to a telephone.
In five minutes he was back.
“The President and his cabinet meet at 9 o’clock,” announced the
director. “You will be received at that hour.”
Dr. Gresham looked at his watch. It was 8:30.
“If you will be so kind,” said Dr. Gresham, “I would like to have you go
with us to the President—and Sir William Belford, Monsieur Linne and the
Duke de Rizzio as well, if they are still here. What we have to discuss
is of the utmost importance to their governments, as well as to ours.”
Professor Whiteman signified his own willingness to go, and went to hunt
the other gentlemen.
This trio my friend had named comprised undoubtedly the leading minds
of the international scientific congress. Sir William Belford was the
great English physicist, head of the British delegation to the congress.
Monsieur Camille Linne was the leader of the French group of scientists,
a distinguished electrical expert. And the Duke de Rizzio was the famous
Italian inventor and wireless telegraph authority, who headed the
representatives from Rome.
The director soon returned with the three visitors, and we all hastened
to the White House. Promptly at 9 o’clock we were ushered into the room
where the nation’s chief executive and his cabinet—all grim and careworn
from a night of sleepless anxiety—were in session.
As briefly as possible, Dr. Gresham told the story of the Seuen-H’sin.
“It is their purpose,” he concluded, “to crack open the earth’s crust by
these repeated shocks, so the water from the oceans will pour into the
globe’s interior. There, coming into contact with incandescent matter,
steam will be generated until there is an explosion that will split the
planet in two.”
It is hardly to the discredit of the President and his advisers that they
could not at once accept so fantastic a tale.
“How can these Chinamen produce an artificial quaking of the earth?”
asked the President.
“That,” replied the astronomer frankly, “I am not prepared to answer
yet—although I have a strong suspicion of the method employed.”
For the greater part of an hour the gentlemen questioned the astronomer.
They did not express doubt of his veracity in his account of the
Seuen-H’sin, but merely questioned his judgment in attributing to that
sect the terrible power to control the internal forces of the earth.
“You are asking us,” objected the Secretary of State, “virtually to
return to the Dark Ages and believe in magicians and sorcerers and
supernatural events!”
“Not at all!” returned the astronomer. “I am asking you to deal with
modern facts—to grapple with scientific ideas that are so far ahead of
our times the world is not prepared to accept them!”
“Then you believe that an unheard-of group of Chinamen, hiding in some
remote corner of the globe, has developed a higher form of science than
the brightest minds of all the civilized nations?” remarked the Attorney
General.
“Events of the last few weeks seem to have demonstrated that,” replied
Dr. Gresham.
“But,” protested the President, “if these Mongolians aim at splitting the
globe to project a new moon into the sky, why should they be satisfied
with an entirely different object—the acquisition of temporal power?”
“Because,” the scientist informed him, “the acquisition of temporal power
is their ultimate goal. Their only object in creating a second moon is to
fulfill the prophecy that they should rule the earth again when two moons
hung in the sky. If they can grasp universal rule _without_ splitting the
globe—merely by _threatening_ to do so—they are very much the gainers.”
The Secretary of the Navy next voiced a doubt.
“But it is evident,” he remarked, “that if Kwo-Sung-tao makes the heavens
fall, they will fall on his own head also!”
“Quite true,” admitted the astronomer.
“Then,” persisted the Secretary, “is it likely that human beings would
plot the destruction of the earth when they knew it would involve them,
too, in the ruin?”
“You forget,” returned the doctor, “that we are dealing with a band of
religious fanatics—undoubtedly the most irrational zealots that ever
lived!
“Besides,” he added, “the Seuen-H’sin, in spite of its threats, does not
expect to destroy the world completely. It contemplates no more than the
blowing of a fragment off into space.”
“What, then, shall be done?” inquired the President.
“Place at my disposal one of the fastest destroyers of the Pacific
fleet—equipped with certain scientific apparatus I shall devise—and let
me deal with the Seuen-H’sin in my own way,” announced the astronomer.
The gathering at once voiced vigorous objection.
“What you propose might mean war with China!” exclaimed the President.
“Not at all,” was the answer. “It is possible not a single shot will be
fired. And, in any event, we will not go anywhere near China.”
The consternation of the officials increased.
“We shall not go near China,” Dr. Gresham explained, “because I am
certain the leaders of the Seuen-H’sin are no longer there. At this very
hour, I am convinced, Kwo-Sung-tao and his devilish band are very much
nearer to us than you dream!”
The gathering broke into excited discussion.
“After all,” remarked Sir William Belford, “suppose this expedition
_should_ plunge us into hostilities. Unless something is done quickly, we
are likely to meet a fate far worse than war!”
“I am willing to do anything necessary to remove this menace from the
world—if the menace actually exists,” the President stated. “But I am
unable to convince myself that these wireless messages threatening
mankind are not merely the emanations of a crank, who is taking advantage
of conditions over which he has no control.”
“But I maintain,” argued Sir William, “that the sender of these messages
_has_ fully demonstrated his control over our planet. He prophesied a
definite performance, and that prophecy was fulfilled to the letter. We
cannot attribute its fulfillment to natural causes, nor to any human
agency other than his. I say it is time we recognized his power, and
dealt with him as best we may.”
Several others now began to incline to this view.
Whereupon the Attorney General joined in the discussion with considerable
warmth.
“I must protest,” he interposed, “against what seems to me an
extraordinary credulity upon the part of many of you gentlemen. I view
this affair as a rational human being. Some natural phenomenon occurred
to disturb the solidity of the earth’s crust. That disturbance has
ceased. Some joker or lunatic was lucky enough to strike it right with
his prediction of this cessation—nothing more. The disturbance may never
reappear. Or it may resume at any moment and end in a calamity. No one
can foretell. But when you ask me to believe that these earthquakes were
due to some human agency—that a mysterious bugaboo was responsible for
them—I tell you _no_!”
Monsieur Linne had risen and was walking nervously up and down the room.
Presently he turned to the Attorney General and remarked:
“That is merely your opinion, sir. It is not proof. Why may these
earthquakes not be due to some human agency? Have we not begun to solve
all the mysteries of nature? A few years ago it was inconceivable that
electricity could ever be used for power, heat and light. May not many
of the inconceivable things of today be the commonplace realities of
tomorrow? We have earthquakes. Is it beyond imagination that the forces
which produce them can be controlled?”
“Still,” returned the Attorney General vigorously, “my answer is that
we have no adequate reason for attributing either the appearance or the
cessation of these earthquakes to any human power! And I am unalterably
opposed to making the government of the United States ridiculous by
fitting out a naval expedition to combat a phantom adversary.”
Dr. Gresham now had risen and was standing behind his chair, his face
flushed and his eyes shining. At this point he broke sharply into the
discussion, the cold, cutting force of his words leaving no doubt of his
decision.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “I did not come here to _argue_; I came to
_help_! As surely as I am standing here, our world is upon the brink of
dissolution! And I alone may be able to save it! But, if I am to do so,
you must agree absolutely to the course of action I propose!”
He glanced at his watch. It was 10 o’clock.
“At noon,” he announced, in tones of finality, “I shall return for my
answer!”
And he turned and started for the door.
In the tenseness of those last few moments, almost no one had been
conscious of the soft buzzing of the President’s telephone signal, or of
the fact that the executive had removed the receiver and was listening
into the instrument.
Now, as Dr. Gresham reached the door, the President lifted a hand in a
commanding gesture and cried: “Wait!”
The astronomer turned back into the room.
For a minute, perhaps, the President listened at the telephone; and as
he did so the expression of his face underwent a grave change. Then,
telling the person at the other end of the wire to wait, he addressed the
gathering:
“The naval observatory at Georgetown is on the ’phone. There has just
been another communication from ‘KWO.’ It says—”
The executive again spoke into the telephone: “Read the message once
more, please!”
After a few seconds, speaking slowly, he repeated:
“‘_To the President Officer of the International Scientific
Congress:_
“‘_I hereby set the hour of noon, on the twenty-fifth day
of the next month, September, as the time when I shall
require compliance with the first three demands of my last
communication. The fulfillment of the fourth demand—the
resignation of all the existing governments—therefore, will
take place on the twenty-eighth day of September._
“‘_In order to facilitate the execution of my plans, I shall
require an answer by midnight next Saturday, one week from
today, from the governments of the world as to whether they
will comply with my terms of surrender. In the absence of a
favorable reply by that time, I shall terminate, absolutely and
forever, all negotiations with the human race, and shall cause
the earthquakes to resume and continue with increasing violence
until the earth is shattered._
“‘_KWO._’”
When the President finished reading and hung up the telephone, a
deathlike silence fell upon the gathering. Dr. Gresham, standing by the
door, made no further movement to depart.
The President glanced at the faces about him, as if seeking some solution
of the problem. But no aid was forthcoming from that source.
Suddenly the silence was broken by a chair being pushed back from the
table, and Sir William Belford rose to speak.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “this is no time for hesitation. If the United
States does not immediately grant Dr. Gresham’s request for a naval
expedition against the Seuen-H’sin, Great Britain _will_ do so!”
At once Monsieur Linne spoke up: “And that is the attitude of France!”
The Duke de Rizzio nodded, as if in acquiescence.
Without further hesitation, the President announced his decision.
“I will take the responsibility for acting first and explaining to
Congress afterward,” he said. And, turning to the Secretary of the Navy,
he added:
“Please see that Dr. Gresham gets whatever ships, men, money and supplies
he needs—without delay!”
_CHAPTER V._