CHAPTER XI

"_Nothing to Be Done_"

Unmoving, their ship seemed, through the long hours. Yet there were

lights that passed swiftly and unnoticed, and the unending thunder

from the stern gave assurance that they were not floating idly in the

vast sea of space.

The sun was behind them, and ahead was Earth in midday glory; Harkness

could not tear his eyes away from that goal. He stood always at the

controls, not because there was work to be done, but for the feeling

it gave him of urging the ship onward.

Diane ministered to Chet and dressed the wound. There were few words

exchanged between them.

The menace that had emptied Earth's higher levels of all aircraft was

still there. No ships were in sight, as Harkness guided his ship

toward the great sphere. His speed had been cut down, yet still he

outraced the occasional, luminous, writhing forms that threw

themselves upon them. Then the repelling area--and he crashed silently

through and down, with their forward exhaust roaring madly to hold

them in check.

A sea and a shoreline, where a peninsula projected like a giant

boot--and he knew it for Italy and the waters of the Mediterranean.

"Vienna," Diane was telling him; "go to Vienna! It is nearby. And I

know of a surgeon--one of the greatest!"

And an hour later, a quiet, confident man was telling them: "But

yes!--of a certainty he will live. It is fortunate that you were not

very far away when the accident occurred." And only then did Harkness

catch Diana's eyes in an exchange of glances where unbearable relief

was tempered with amusement.

* * * * *

The great hospital had its own landing stages on its broad roof. Their

ship was anchored there, an object to excite the curiosity of a

gathering throng.

"Not a healthy place for me, here in Vienna," Harkness remarked. He

was lifting the ship from its anchorage, its errand of mercy done.

"Now where?" he pondered aloud. The strain of the flight was telling

on him.

The girl recognized the strained look in his eyes, the deep lines that

their experiences had etched upon his face. Gently she drew his hand

from the controls.

"I will take it," she said. "Trust me. Lie down and rest."

Harkness had witnessed an example of her flying skill; she could

handle the ship, he knew. And he threw himself upon a cot in the cabin

to sink under the weight of overpowering fatigue.

He felt the soft shock of their landing. Diane was calling him, her

hand extended to lead him from the open port. But he was wrenched

sharply from the lethargy that held him at sight of his surroundings,

and the memories they recalled.

They were in a park, and their ship rested upon a spacious lawn.

Beyond were trees where a ship had shot crashingly through

storm-tossed limbs. And, before him, a chateau, where a window had

framed the picture of a girl with outstretched arms.

"Trust me," Diane had said. And he did trust her. But did she not know

what this meant? She was delivering him into the enemy's hands. He

should have kept himself from sight until he had rallied his

forces.... He was stammering words of protest as she led him toward

the door. Armed guards were already between him and the ship.

* * * * *

In a dark-panelled room Herr Schwartzmann was waiting. His gasp of

amazement as he sprang to his feet reflected the utter astonishment

written upon his face, until that look gave place to one of

satisfaction.

"Mademoiselle," he exclaimed, "--my dear Mademoiselle Diane! We had

given you up for lost. I thought--I thought--"

"Yes," said Diane quietly, "I believe that I can well imagine what you

thought."

"Ah!" said Herr Schwartzmann, and the look of satisfaction deepened.

"I see that you understand now; you will be with us in this matter. We

have plans for this young man's disposal."

The puzzled wonder that had clouded the steady eyes of Walter Harkness

was replaced by cold anger and more than a trace of contempt.

"You can forget those plans," he told Schwartzmann. "I have plans of

my own."

"Poof!" exclaimed the heavy, bearded man. "We will crush you like

that!" He struck one heavy fist upon the desk. "And what will you do?"

"Several things," said Harkness evenly. "I shall rid the upper levels

of the monsters: I have a gas that will accomplish that. I shall

restore the world's flying to normal. And, with that attended to, I

will give you my undivided attention--raise forty kinds of hell with

Herr Schwartzmann and the interests he represents.

"Forgery! Theft! The seizing of my properties by virtue of a lying

document! You shall see what this leads to. Your companies will be

wrecked; not a decent man or woman engaged in the business of a decent

world will deal with you: that is a small part of what I plan."

The dark face of Herr Schwartzmann was flushed with anger. "You will

never leave this place--" he began. But Harkness would not let him go

on: his voice was as hard as the metal of his ship.

"You and your assassins!" he said contemptuously. "You don't dare

touch me. There is another man who knows--and Diane, too." He paused

to look into the eyes of the girl, which were regarding him with an

inscrutable expression. "I do not know why she brought me here, but

Diane also knows. You can't throttle us all."

"Diane!" The exclamation was wrung involuntarily from Schwartzmann's

lips. "You speak of Mademoiselle Vernier so familiarly?"

* * * * *

The girl's cool voice broke in. She had watched the meeting of the men

in silence; she spoke now as one taking matters into her own quite

capable hands.

"You may omit the incognito, Herr Schwartzmann," she said; "it is no

longer required. I have enjoyed a birthday since last we met: it was

passed in a place of darkness and anguish, where strong men and brave

forgot their own suffering to try by every means to bring comfort to a

girl who was facing death. For that reason I say that I enjoyed it.... And

that birthday was my twenty-first. You know what that means."

"But Mademoiselle Vernier--pardon!--Mam'selle Delacoeur, surely you

will support me. My trustee-ship during all these successful years--"

"Is at an end," said the cool voice.

"I learned more than you were aware of in this last year while I

familiarized myself with the interests that would soon be mine. No,

Herr Schwartzmann, your methods do not appeal to me; they are an

anachronism in the world of to-day."

Harkness was standing in stunned silence. "Delacoeur!" Diane was

Mademoiselle Delacoeur! But that name had been borne by the wealthiest

house of France! Old Delacoeur had died, possessed of millions beyond

counting--and he had left a daughter--Diane!

His mind could not grasp the full significance of this. But one thing

was clear: he could not aspire to the love of one of the queens of

Earth. Whatever faint hope that remained in his heart was lost.... The

cool voice was still speaking.

"You may leave now," she was saying--this girl who had been his

comrade, so unfailingly tender, so true and steady in the face of

incredible dangers. And Herr Schwartzmann took his dismissal as one

who cannot dispute his superior.

* * * * *

The room was silent. Harkness stood with downcast eyes that followed

with meticulous precision the intricacies of design in the rug on

which he stood. A voice was speaking. Not the cool, imperative voice

of Mademoiselle Delacoeur, mistress of vast estates, but the voice of

Diane--the Diane he had learned to love--and it tore at his emotions

until his mind was a whirl of conflicting thoughts.

A tender voice: and there was laughter in it and in the eyes that his

own came despondently to meet.

"Such a man, this Walter Harkness!" she was saying. "So hard, so

vindictive! Ah, the trouble he will make for me because of my

conscienceless agents!"

Harkness threw out his hands in a helpless gesture. "Don't taunt me,"

he said. "You know you have me tied. You've drawn the charges from all

my guns. There is nothing to be done."

Diane Delacoeur drew near. The raillery was gone from her voice, and

the hand that she placed on his arm was trembling.

"Nothing?" she inquired. "Then, if friendly rivalry is impossible,

would you consider, could there not be arranged--a merger of our

interests? I am not thinking now of wealth, of which you will have far

more than I: there are so much greater things in life--"

The eyes that clung to his were pleading now. And within them was the

light that Walter Harkness at last could understand and define. He

took the trembling hand in one of his that was suddenly strong, and

with the other he raised a lovely face that no longer dared to meet

his look.

"You mean--" he began, and fumbled for words to express an emotion

that was beyond words. "Chet said--why, he said--that you needed me--"

Her reply came mingled with a tremulous laugh.

"I have the greatest regard," she whispered, "for Chet's judgement.

But--do you--need me?"

Walt Harkness held the soft body close; bent nearer to catch the

words. And he answered them with his own lips in an ecstasy of emotion

that made nothing of the thrills to be found in that other

conquest--of a Dark Moon.

A SCIENTIFIC HELL

Science playing the rôle of an up-to-date Persephone, visiting the

underworld realm of Pluto to wrest from it hidden cosmic secrets, was

described recently at a meeting of the American Geographical Society

at the Engineering Building by Prof. Harlow Shapley, Harvard

astronomical wizard, who told of the ultra-modern scientific version

of Ulysses's descent into Hades or Dante's visit to hell.

Prof. Shapley, to whom 10,000,000 light-years are like a day to any

ordinary mortal, and whose astronomical investigations have led him to

the center of the cosmos, told the scientists present to descend to

the bowels of the earth and construct therein "Plutonic Laboratories,"

where a man could learn many things unknown about beginnings and

endings, and where, incidentally he may find a way of utilising the

tremendous heat energy stored up in the "scientific hell."

Under the general theme of the "Third Dimension in Geography," Prof.

Shapley talked about the past, present and future of the earth-moon

system; how in 50,000,000 years our days and months will be

forty-seven times as long as they are now; how after that the moon

will again approach the earth until it is broken up by tidal

disruption into ring fragments circulating around the earth like the

ring around Saturn; and of shooting stars coming from far-away solar

systems.

"The temperature under the surface of the earth," said Prof. Shapley,

"increases one degree Fahrenheit at every seventy-six feet, about

seventy degrees per mile. In some places in California we get the

temperature of boiling water at a depth of less than a mile. The

center of the earth is roughly 4,000 miles below the surface.

"Because of this intense internal heat of the earth it would probably

be impossible to maintain permanent laboratories at greater depths

than two miles," said the lecturer, "and, in addition, the

installation and maintenance of Plutonic laboratories will be a

scientific adventure of great difficulty and expense. Yet, if carried

on in connection with the work of existing mines and borings it may

mark the coming decade as one of the important epochs in man's attempt

to understand the earth.

"These Plutonic laboratories, placed at various depths under the

surface, fully equipped with modern scientific apparatus, and

maintained indefinitely, will contribute to our knowledge in a dozen

important fields of geophysic and astronomy."

What Prof. Shapley pointed to as merely a possible by-product of the

proposed scientific "descent into Hades" is the commercial possibility

of tapping the earth's internal source of heat. There is 31,000,000

times as much natural heat in the earth than in all the coal resources

of the world. He stated that Sir Charles Parsons and John L. Hodgson,

both noted British engineers, are already engaged in work on this

problem.

When Caverns Yawned

_By Captain S. P. Meek_

[Illustration: From the bump on the side of the submarine came a flash

of red light.]

[Sidenote: Only Dr. Bird's super-scientific sleuthing stands in the

way of Ivan Saranoff's latest attempt at wholesale destruction.]

Bells jangled discordantly. A whistle split the air with a piercing

note. A band blared away on the platform. With a growing rumble of

sound, the Presidential special slowly gathered headway. The President

waved a final farewell to the crowds at the platform and sat down. He

chatted cheerily with his companions until the train was clear of

Charleston, then rose, and with a word to the others stepped into the

car. Operative Carnes of the United States Service slumped back in

his chair with a sigh of relief.

"Thank Goodness, that's over," he said. "I was never so glad to get

him safely away from a place in my life."

Haggerty of the secret service nodded in agreement. Colonel Holmes,

the military aide, looked up inquiringly.

"Why so? Do you think Charleston an especially dangerous place for him

to be?"

"Not ordinarily. Charleston is a very patriotic and loyal city, but I

have been worried. There have been vague rumors going around. Nothing

definite that we could pin down, but enough to make me pretty uneasy."

"I think you've worried needlessly. I have been in constant touch with

the Military Intelligence Division and they have reported nothing

alarming."

Haggerty chuckled at the look of disgust that spread over Carnes'

face. Colonel Holmes bridled visibly.

"Now look here, Carnes," he began.

"Oh, horse-feathers!" interrupted Carnes. "The M.I.D. is all right in

its place--Good Lord! What's that?"

* * * * *

The train gave a sudden sickening lurch. Colonel Holmes sprawled in an

undignified heap in one corner of the observation platform. Carnes and

Haggerty kept their feet by hanging on to the rails. From the interior

of the car came cries of alarm. The train righted itself for a moment

and then lurched worse than before. There was a scream of brakes as

the engineer strove to halt the forward progress. The train swayed and

lurched like a ship in a storm. Carnes sprang for the telephone

connected with the engine cab and rang excitedly.

"Hello, Bemis," he cried when an answer came: "take off the brakes!

Keep moving at full speed, no matter what happens. What? Use your gun

on him, man! Keep moving even if the train tips over!"

The train swayed and rocked worse than ever as it began to gather

momentum. Carnes looked back along the track and gasped. For three

hundred yards behind them, the track was sinking out of sight. The

train forged ahead, but it was evident that it also was sinking into

the ground. The track behind them suddenly gave. With a roar like a

hundred buildings collapsing, it sank out of sight in a cloud of dust.

The rear car of the train hung partially over the yawning cavern in

the earth for an instant before the laboring engine dragged it to

solid ground. The swaying and lurching grew less. For a mile it

persisted to a slight degree. With a face the color of a sheet, Carnes

made his way into the train. The President met him at the door.

"What's the trouble, Carnes?" he demanded.

"I am not sure, Mr. President. It felt like an earthquake. A great

cavern opened in the earth behind us. Our train was almost trapped in

it."

"An earthquake! We must stop the train at once and take charge of the

situation. An emergency of that sort demands immediate attention."

"I beg you to do nothing of the sort, sir. Your presence would add

little to the rescue work and your life is too precious to risk."

"But my duty to the people--"

"Is to keep yourself alive, sir! Mr. President, this may well be an

attempt on your life. There are persons who would give anything to do

away with you, especially at present. You have not endeared yourself

to a certain class in calling for a conference of the powers to curb

Russia's anti-religious tactics."

* * * * *

The President hesitated. He knew Carnes well enough to know that he

usually spoke from accurate knowledge and with good judgment.

"Mr. President," went on the operative earnestly, "I am responsible to

the American people for your safety. I beg you to follow my advice."

"Very well, Carnes," replied the President, "I'll put myself in your

hands for the present. What is your program?"

"Your route is well known. Other attempts may be planned since this

one failed. Let me have you transferred incognito to another train and

hurried through to Washington secretly. I am going to drop off and go

back. That earthquake needs to be looked into."

Again the President hesitated.

"My desertion of the stricken area will not be favorably regarded. If

I sneak away secretly as though in fear, it will be bad for the public

morale."

"We'll let the special go through. No one need know that you have left

it."

"Well--I guess you're right. What are you going to do about it?"

"My first move will be to summon Dr. Bird from Washington."

"That's a good move. You'd better have him bring Dr. Lassen with him.

Lassen is a great volcano and earthquake specialist, you know."

"I will, sir. If you will get ready to drop off at the next connecting

point, I'll send Haggerty and Bemis with you. The rest of the party

can remain on the special."

"All right, Carnes, if you insist."

* * * * *

Carnes went forward to the operator of the train's radio set. In half

an hour the special came to a stop at a junction point and four men

got off. Ten minutes later three of them climbed aboard another train

which stopped for them. Carnes, the fourth man, hurried to a

telephone. Fifteen minutes later he was talking to Dr. Bird at the

latter's private laboratory in the Bureau of Standards.

"An earthquake, Carnes?" exclaimed the doctor as the operative

described the happenings. "Wait a few minutes, will you?"

In five minutes he was back on the telephone.

"It was no earthquake, old dear, whatever it may have been. I have

examined the records of all three of the Bureau's seismographs. None

of them record even a tremor. What are you going to do?"

"Whatever you say, Doctor. I'm out of my depth already."

"Let me think a moment. All right, listen. Go back to Charleston as

quickly as you can and get in touch with the commanding officer at

Fort Moultrie. I'll have the Secretary of War telephone him and give

him orders. Get troops and go to the scene of the catastrophe. Allow

no one near it. Proclaim martial law if necessary. Stop all road and

rail traffic within a radius of two miles. Arrest anyone trying to

pass your guard lines. I'll get a plane from Langley Field and come

down on the run. Is that all clear?"

"Perfectly, Doctor. By the way, the President suggested that you bring

Dr. Lassen with you."

"Since it wasn't an earthquake, he wouldn't be of much value. However,

I'll bring him if I can get hold of him. Now start things moving down

there. I'll get some apparatus together and join you in five hours;

six at the outside. Have a car waiting for me at the Charleston

airport."

* * * * *

Carnes commandeered a passing car and drove back to Charleston. He

made a wide sweep to avoid the disturbed area and went direct to Fort

Moultrie. Dr. Bird had been good at his word. The troops were

assembled in heavy marching order when the detective arrived. A few

words to the commanding officer was sufficient to set the trucks

loaded with soldiers in motion. Carnes, accompanied by the colonel and

his staff, went direct to the scene of the catastrophe.

He found a hole in the ground, a hundred feet wide and a quarter of a

mile long, sunk to a depth of fifty feet. He shuddered as he thought

of what would have happened had the Presidential train been in the

center of the devastated area instead of at the edge. The edges of the

hole were ragged and sloping as though the earth had caved in to fill

a huge cavern underground.

State and local authorities were already on the ground, striving to

hold back sightseers. They were very glad to deliver their

responsibility to the representative of the federal government. Carnes

added their force to that of the military. In an hour a cordon of

guards were stationed about the cavern while every road was picketed

two miles away. Fortunately there had been no loss of life and no

rescue work was needed. The earth-shaking had been purely a local

matter, centered along the line of the railroad track.

There was nothing to do but wait, Carnes thought furiously. He had

worked with Dr. Bird long enough to have a fair idea of the

scientist's usual lines of investigation.

"The first thing he'll want to do is to explore that hole," he mused.

"Probably, that'll mean some excavating. I'd better get a wrecking

train with a crane on it and a steam shovel here. A gang of men with

picks and shovels might be useful, too."

He hurried to the railroad officials. The sight of his gold badge had

the desired result. Telegraph keys began to click and telephones to

ring. Carnes was sorely tempted to explore the hole himself, but he

resisted the temptation. Dr. Bird was not always pleasant when his

colleagues departed from the orders he had given.

* * * * *

The morning passed, and the first part of the afternoon. Two wrecking

trains stood with steam up at the edge of the hole. Grouped by the

trains were a hundred negroes with shovels and picks. Carnes sat at

the edge of the hole and stared down into it. He was roused from his

reverie by the sound of a motor.

From the north came an airplane. High over the hole it passed, and

then swerved and descended. On the under side of the wings could be

seen the insignia of the Air Corps. Carnes jumped to his feet and

waved his hat. Lower came the plane until it roared across the cavern

less than a hundred feet above the ground. Two figures leaned out and

examined the terrain carefully. Carnes waved again. One of the figures

waved a hand in reply. The plane rose in the air and straightened out

toward Charleston.

"We'll have the doctor here in a few minutes now," said Carnes to the

Colonel. "It might be a good plan to send a motorcycle out along the

Charleston road to bring him in. We don't want the guards to delay

him."

The colonel gave an order and a motorcycle shot off down the road. In

half an hour it came sputtering back with a huge Cadillac roaring in

its wake. The car drew up and stopped. From it descended two men. The

first was a small, wizened figure with heavy glasses. What hair age

had left to him was as white as snow. The second figure, which towered

over the first, was one to merit attention anywhere.

* * * * *

Dr. Bird was as light on his feet and as quick and graceful as a cat,

but there was nothing feline about his appearance. He stood well over

six feet in his stockings and tipped the beam close to the two

hundred mark. Not one ounce of fat was on his huge frame. So fine was

he drawn that unless one looked closely he would never suspect the

weight of bone and muscle that his unobtrusive tweed suit covered.

Piercing black eyes looked out from under shaggy brows. His face was

lean and browned, and it took a second glance to realize the

tremendous height and breadth of his forehead. A craggy jutting chin

spoke of stubbornness and the relentless following up of a line of

action determined on. His head was topped with an unruly shock of

black hair which he tossed back with a hand that commanded instant

attention.

His hands were the most noteworthy thing about the famous Bureau

scientist. Long slender hands, they were, with slim tapering

fingers--the hands of an artist and a dreamer. The acid stains that

marred them could not hide their slim beauty, yet Carnes knew that

those hands had muscles like steel wire and that the doctor boasted a

grip that could crush the hand of a professional wrestler. He had seen

him tear a deck of playing cards in half and, after doubling, again in

half, with as little effort as the ordinary man would use in tearing a

bare dozen of the cards. As he climbed out of the car his keen black

eyes swept around in a comprehensive glance. Carnes, trained observer

that he was, knew that in that one glance every essential detail which

it had taken him an hour to place had been accurately noted and stored

away in the doctor's mind. He came forward to the detective.

"Has anything happened since you telephoned me?" was his first

question.

"Nothing, Doctor. I followed your instructions and also assembled a

crew of men with excavating tools."

"You're improving, Carnes. This is Dr. Lassen. This is a little out

of your line. Doctor, but you may see something familiar. What does

it look like to you?"

"Not like an earthquake, Bird, at all events. Offhand I would say that

a huge cavern had been washed in the earth and the ground had caved

in."

"It looks that way. If you are right, we should find running water if

we dig deep enough. Have you been down in the hole, Carnes?"

"No, Doctor."

"Then that's the first thing to do. You have ropes, of course?"

* * * * *

Carnes called to the waiting gang of negroes and a dozen of these

hurried up with ropes. Dr. Bird slung a rope around his body under his

arms and was lowered into the hole. The rope slackened as he reached

bottom. Carnes lay on his stomach and looked over the edge. Dr. Bird

was gingerly picking his way across the ground. He turned and called

up.

"Carnes, you and Lassen can come down if you care to."

In a few minutes the detective and the volcanologist joined him in the

cavern. The top surface of the ground was rolled up into waves like

the sea. The sides of the hole were almost sheer. The naked rock was

exposed for thirty feet. Above the rock could be seen the subsoil, and

then the layer of top soil and vegetation. Dr. Bird was carefully

examining the rock wall.

"What do you make of these, Lassen?" he asked, pointing to a row of

horizontal striations in the rock. The volcanologist studied them.

"They might be water marks but if so they are different from any that

I have seen before," he said doubtfully. "It looks as though some

force had cut the rock away in one sharp stroke."

"Exactly. Notice this yellow powder on the ridges. Water would have

washed it away."

Dr. Bird stepped forward to the wall and idly attempted to pick up a

pinch of the yellow powder he had referred to in his fingers. He gave

an exclamation of surprise as he did so. The powder was evidently fast

to the wall. He drew his knife from his pocket and pried at the stuff.

It fell readily. He scraped again and caught a speck of the falling

powder in his hand. He gave a cry of surprise, for his hand sank as

though borne down by a heavy weight. With an effort he lifted his hand

and examined the substance.

"Come here, Carnes," he said. "Hold your hand up to catch some of this

powder as I scrape it off."

* * * * *

The detective held up his hand. Dr. Bird pried with his knife and a

shower of dull yellow particles fell. Carnes' hand sank as though the

bits of dust had been a lead bar. He placed his other hand under it

and with an effort lifted both hands up a few inches.

"What on earth is this stuff, Doctor?" he cried. "It's as heavy as

lead."

"It's a great deal heavier than lead, Carnesy, old dear. I don't know

what it is. I am inclined to think you did a wise thing when you sent

for me. Lassen, take a look at this stuff. Did you ever run into

anything like it?"

The aged volcanologist shook his head. The yellow powder was something

beyond his ken.

"I have been poking around volcanos all my life," he said, "and I have

seen some queer things come out of the ground--but nothing like that."

Dr. Bird poked tentatively at the substance for a moment, his brow

furrowed in lines of thought. He suddenly threw back his shoulders in

a gesture of decision.

"Send a gang of excavators down here," he cried. "Never mind the power

shovel at present."

* * * * *

Down the ropes swarmed the gang of negroes. Dr. Bird indicated an area

at one end of the cavern and directed them to dig. The blacks flew to

work with a will. The top soil and subsoil were rapidly tossed into

buckets and hauled to the surface. When bare rock lay before them, the

negroes ceased their efforts.

"What next, Doctuh, suh?" asked the foreman.

"Get dynamite!" cried the doctor. "If I'm right, this underground

cavern is entered by a tunnel. We'll blast away this caved-in rock

until we locate it."

Then occurred a strange thing.

"There is no need to go to that trouble, Dr. Bird," spoke a metallic

voice, from nowhere, it seemed. The negroes looked at one another.

Picks and shovels fell from nerveless hands.

"Your guess about a tunnel is correct, Doctor," went on the Voice.

"There is a tunnel leading away from the spot where you are, but to

find the end would be useless to you. I have prepared for that."

From the blacks came a low moan of fear.

"Ha'nts!" cried one of them. The cry was taken up and spread into a

rolling chorus of fear. With one accord they dropped their tools and

stampeded in a mad rush toward the dangling ropes. Carnes sprang

forward to stop them.

"Let them go, Carnes!" cried the doctor. "Their work is done for the

present. Let's locate that radio receiver."

"That also will be a useless search. Doctor," spoke up the Voice

again. "I have perfected a transmitter which will send my voice

through space and make it audible without the aid of the clumsy

apparatus you depend on. I am also able to see you through the miles

of intervening rock without the aid of any instruments at your end."

* * * * *

"I presume that you can hear me as well?"

"Certainly, Doctor. To save you trouble--and I dislike to see you

waste the efforts of your really good brain on minor problems--I will

tell you that your surmise is correct. A tunnel does lead both to and

from the place where you stand. It twists and turns so that even you

would be puzzled to plot a general direction. You would have to follow

it inch by inch. If you tried that, naturally I would cause it to

collapse before you, or on top of you, if you got too close. Be

content with what you have seen and seek a better way to trace me."

"Who are you, anyway?" blurted out Carnes.

"Is it possible that you do not know? Such is fame. I thought that at

least my friend Mr. Carnes would suspect that Ivan Saranoff had done

this."

"But you're dead!" protested the detective. "We killed you when we

destroyed your helicopter."

"You killed merely an assistant who had disobeyed my orders. Had I not

decreed his death, he would be alive to-day. I could kill you as you

stand there; resolve you into nothingness; but I do not choose to do so--yet.

Other attempts I have made you have frustrated, but this time I shall

succeed. I will institute a reign of terror which will bring your

rich, foolish country to its knees. Listen, while I give you a taste

of my power. The city of Charleston is about to be destroyed."

A thunderous roaring filled the air. Crash followed crash in rapid

succession. It sounded as though all the noise of the universe had

been concentrated in the cavern. The earth shook and rocked like a

restless sea. From above came cries of terror.

The three men in the cavern were thrown to the ground. Shaken by the

fall and deafened by the tumult, they hung onto irregularities of the

rock on which they lay. Gradually the tumult and the shaking subsided.

The cries from above became more apparent. Silence finally reigned in

the cavern and the metallic Voice spoke again.

"Go back now and look at Charleston and you will see what to expect.

The rest of your cities will soon share the same fate. Beware of

trying to trace my movements, for your lives are in the hollow of my

hand."

* * * * *

The voice died away in silence. From the edge of the hole came a cry.

A Fort Moultrie officer was peering down at them.

"Are you all right down there?" he hailed.

"Right as hops," called Dr. Bird cheerfully. "What happened up above?"

"I don't know, Doctor. There seems to be a lot of smoke and fire over

in the direction of the city. I expect the quake shook them up a

little this time. What shall we do now?"

"We're ready to come up. First I'm going to send up a wheelbarrow full

of yellow powder. Rig a crane to lift it, for it's too heavy to try to

hoist with ropes."

With the aid of Carnes and Dr. Lassen, Dr. Bird collected a few cubic

inches of the yellow powder from the ridges in the rock. He made the

wheelbarrow containing it fast to the wire cables of the crane and

gave the signal. Slowly it was raised to the surface. When it had

safely reached there he turned to his companions.

"Grab a rope and let's go," he said.

In a few moments they were on the upper level. With the efforts of

half a dozen men, the body of the wheelbarrow was lifted into the car.

With a few final words of instruction to the colonel, Dr. Bird and his

companions entered the car and were whisked away to the city.

A spectacle of destruction and ruin awaited them. Fully one-fourth of

the city had sunk thirty feet into the ground. The sinking was not

even nor uniform. The sunken ground was rolled into huge waves while

buildings which had collapsed lay in confused heaps on all sides. From

a dozen places in the area, columns of fire rose in the air.

* * * * *

Dr. Bird wasted little time on the scene before him. His car skirted

the edge of the huge hole and took the road toward the Charleston

airport, which was in a section which had suffered little. In half an

hour the army transport roared into the air carrying Dr. Bird's

precious load of yellow powder. Four hours later they dropped to a

landing at Langley Field.

"Now, Carnes," said the doctor as they debarked from the plane, "there

is work ahead. It may be too late to do much to-night, but we have no

time to waste. Get Bolton on the wire and tell him that we have

positive evidence that Saranoff is still alive and still up to his

devil's tricks. Start every man of the secret service and every

Department of Justice agent that can be spared on the trail. He can't

live underground all the time, and you ought to get on his tracks

somehow. I'm going up to the laboratory and see what I can do with

this stuff. Report to me there to-morrow morning."

Carnes hurried away. Bolton, the chief of the United States Secret

Service, had long ago recovered from any professional jealousy he had

ever felt of Dr. Bird. The doctor's message that Ivan Saranoff, the

arch-enemy of society, the head of the Young Labor party, the

unofficial chief of the secret Soviet forces in the United States, was

alive and again in the field against law and order was enough to set

in motion every force that he controlled. Waving aside precedent and

crashing his way past secretaries, he set in motion not only the

agents of the Department of Justice but also the post-office forces

and the specialized but highly efficient Military and Naval

Intelligence Divisions. The telephone and telegraph wires from

Washington were kept busy all night carrying orders and bringing in

reports. But despite all this activity, it was with a disappointed

face that Operative Carnes sought the doctor in the morning.

* * * * *

Dr. Bird was in his private laboratory on the third floor of the

Bureau of Standards. When Carnes entered he was seated in a chair at

his desk. His black eyes shone out from a chalky face like two burned

holes in a blanket. Carnes started at the appearance of utter

weariness presented by the famous scientist. Dr. Bird straightened up

and squared his shoulders as the detective entered.

"Any luck, Carnes?" he asked eagerly.

"None at all, Doctor. We haven't been able to get a single trace of

his corporeal existence since that submarine was destroyed off the

Massachusetts coast. All we have is Karuska's word that he is still

alive."

"We heard his voice yesterday."

"His or another's."

"True. Have you set in motion every agency that the government has?"

"Every one. Either Bolton or I have talked to the Chief of Police in

every large city in the United States and Canada. Every known member

of the Young Labor party who is above the mere rank and file is under

close surveillance."

"Good enough. Keep at it and you'll trace him eventually. As soon as I

get a few quarts of black coffee into my system, I'll start another

line of search going."

"What did you find out last night?"

"I found that our seismograph recorded the Charleston disaster. It was

merely a faint jog, about what should be caused by a severe landslide.

The disaster did not affect the earth's crust, but was purely local.

That gives me a clue to his method."

"I described the affair to Bolton and he suggested that it might be

caused by a disintegrating ray."

* * * * *

Dr. Bird snorted. "When will people learn that there is not, and in

the nature of things never can be, a disintegrating ray?" he

exclaimed. "Of course a ray can be made which will tear things down to

their constituent elements, but matter is indestructible, and the idea

of wiping matter out of existence is absurd."

"But I have heard you say that matter and energy were

interchangeable."

"That is a different proposition. I believe they are. In fact, if you

remember, Carmichael proved it, although the proof was lost at his

death. Nothing of the sort was done at Charleston, however. Do you

know how much energy is contained in matter? Well, a cubic inch of

copper would drive the largest ship afloat around the world twice, and

across the Atlantic to boot. The energy contained in the cubic yards

of rock that were removed under Charleston would have blown the world

to fragments."

"Then what did happen?"

"Matter, as you know, is composed of atoms. These atoms are as far

from one another, compared to their size, as the stars and planets of

the universe. Each atom in turn is composed of electrons, negative

particles of electrical energy, held in position about a fixed central

nucleus of positive electricity known as a proton. I speak now of the

simplest element. Most of them have many protons and electrons in

their make-up. The space between these particles compared with their

size is such that the universe would be crowded in comparison."

"What does that lead to?"

"I have described the composition of lead, the densest known element,

over thirteen times as heavy as water, bulk for bulk. Conceive what it

would mean if some force could compress together these widely

separated particles until they touched. The resulting substance would

be an element of almost inconceivable density. Such a condition is

approached in the stars, some of which are as high as four thousand

times as dense as the earth. What Saranoff has done is to find some

way of compressing together the atoms into that yellow powder which we

found in the cavern. He has not gone to the limit, for the stuff is

only a little over four thousand times as dense as water. A cubic inch

of it weighs one hundred and thirty-two pounds. With its density

increased to that extent, the volume is reduced accordingly. That was

what accounted for those caverns into which the earth tumbled."

"I'll believe you, Doctor," replied the detective; "but I'd believe

you just as quickly if you swore that the moon was made of cream

cheese made from the milk taken from the milky way. One would be just

as understandable to me as the other."

* * * * *

They were interrupted by the entrance of a waiter who bore a huge pot

of steaming coffee. Dr. Bird's eyes lighted up as a cup was poured.

Carnes knew enough not to interrupt while the doctor poured and drank

eight cups of the strong black fluid. As he drank, the lines of

fatigue disappeared from the scientist's face. He sat up as fresh as

though he had not been working at high pressure the entire night.

"Dr. Fisher tells me that the amount of caffeine I drink would kill a

horse," he said with a chuckle; "but sometimes it is needed. I feel

better now. Let's get to work."

"What shall we do?"

"Despite Saranoff's words, it must be possible to trace him. He is

undoubtedly releasing his energy from some form of subterranean borer,

and such a thing can be located. The energy he uses must set up

electrical disturbances which instruments will detect. I have had work

started on a number of ultra-sensitive wave detectors which will

record any wave-length from zero to five millimeters. We'll send them

to various points along the seacoast. They ought to pick up the stray

waves from the energy he is using to blast a path through the earth.

I'm not going to bother with the waves from his motor; they may be of

any wave-length, and there would be constant false alarms. I have

another idea."

"What is it?"

"I am judging Saranoff from his previous actions. You remember that he

used a submarine in that alien-smuggling scheme the Coast Guard broke

up, and also when he loosed that sea monster on the Atlantic shipping?

He seems to be rather fond of submarines."

"Well?"

* * * * *

"The amount of energy he uses must be almost inconceivable," Dr. Bird

went on. "He can hardly carry an amount of fuel which will enable him

to bore underground for very many miles, Charleston is on the coast. I

have an idea that he uses a submarine to transport his borer from

point to point. After using the borer he must return to the submarine

for recharging and transportation to the point where he plans to

strike next. I already have two hundred planes scouring the sea

looking for such a craft."

"Where do you expect him to strike next?"

"I have no idea. New York and Washington will undoubtedly be targets

eventually, but neither of them may be next. Meanwhile, would you like

to do a little more flying?"

"Surely."

"A plane is waiting for us at Langley Field. I want to look over the

coast in the vicinity of Charleston Harbor and some of the sounds near

there. If he is using a sub, he must have a base somewhere."

* * * * *

With a competent pilot at the stick, Carnes and the Doctor spent the

day in exploring. The day yielded no results, and with the coming of

dusk they landed at Savannah for the night. Carnes talked with Bolton

over the telephone, but the secret service chief could report no

favorable progress. Tired and disgusted, they retired early, but they

were not destined to enjoy a night of uninterrupted sleep. At one

o'clock a telegram was brought to their room. Dr. Bird tore it open

and glanced sleepily at it.

"Get up, Carnes," he cried sharply. "Read this!"

The yawning detective glanced at the telegram. It contained only two

words and a signature. It was signed "Ivan," and read simply, "Watch

Wilmington."

"What the dickens?" he exclaimed as he studied the yellow slip. Dr.

Bird was hurriedly pulling on his clothes.

"Saranoff has slipped a cog this time," said the doctor. "He sent that

as a night message, but it was delivered as a straight message through

error. He has got further north than I expected. We will turn out our

pilot and take off. We should make Wilmington by daybreak. I'll

telephone Washington and have a couple of destroyers started up

Delaware Bay at once. We ought to give him a first class surprise

party. I suppose that Philadelphia was meant to be his next stop."

In an hour the army plane took off into the night. At seven o'clock

they were circling over Wilmington. The city had not been disturbed.

For an hour they flew back and forth before they landed. Startling

news awaited them. At six that morning an earthquake had struck

Wilmington, North Carolina. Half the town had sunk into the earth. Dr.

Bird struck his brow with his clenched fist.

"Score one for the enemy," he said grimly. "We were too sure of

ourselves, Carnes. We should have realized that he would hardly be so

far north yet. Well, I've got to use the telephone while we're

refueling."

* * * * *

Within an hour after landing they were again in the air One o'clock

found them over the stricken city. Dr. Bird wasted no time on

Wilmington but headed north along the coast. For a hundred miles he

skirted the shore, two miles out. With an exclamation of

disappointment he ordered the pilot to turn the plane and retrace his

route southward, keeping ten miles from the shore. Fifty miles south

he ordered the plane further out and again turned north. From time to

time they passed a ship of the air patrol which was steadily skirting

the coast, but none of them had seen a submarine. Off Cape Hatteras

the pilot asked for orders.

"The gas is running low. Doctor," he said. "I think we had better put

in somewhere and refuel. If we are going to keep the air much longer,

you had better get a relief pilot. I have been flying for thirty hours

out of the last thirty-six and I'm about done."

"Head back for Washington," said the doctor with a sigh. "I seem to

have gone off on a false scent."

At Cape Charles the pilot swung east over Chesapeake Bay. Hardly had

he turned than Dr. Bird gave a cry. Excitedly he pointed toward the

water. Carnes grasped a pair of binoculars and looked in the

direction Dr. Bird was indicating. Sliding along under the water was

a long cigar-shaped shadow.

"It's a submarine!" exclaimed Carnes. "Is it a navy ship or the one

we're after?"

"It's no navy sub," said the doctor positively. "It's not the right

shape. Look at that bump on the side!"

The symmetry of the craft was marred by a huge projection on one side

that could not be explained by the pattern of any known type of

under-water craft.

"He's towing the borer!" cried the doctor in exultation. He took up

the speaking tube. "Turn back to sea!" he cried. "We passed four

destroyers less than ten miles out. We want to get in touch with

them."

The plane roared out to sea while Dr. Bird feverishly sounded the

"Alnav" call on the radio sending set. In a few minutes an answer

came. From their point of vantage they could see flags break out at

the peak of the destroyer leader. The four ships turned into column

formation and stormed at full speed into the bay. The plane raced

ahead to guide them.

"We've got him this time, Doctor!" cried Carnes in exultation. He

pointed to the bay below where the submarine was still making its way

slowly forward. Dr. Bird shook his head.

"I hope so," he said, "but I have my doubts. Saranoff is no fool. He

wouldn't walk into a trap like this unless he had some means of

escape. Here comes the first destroyer. We'll soon know the truth."

* * * * *

With the radio set he directed the oncoming boat. The destroyer

reduced to half speed and changed direction slightly. From side to

side she maneuvered until she was less than half a mile behind the

submarine and headed straight for it. Dr. Bird tapped a few words on

his key. With a belch of smoke, the destroyer lurched forward. She

cut the waters with her sharp bow, throwing up a wave higher than her

decks. Dr. Bird watched anxiously.

The destroyer was almost over the submarine and Dr. Bird's fingers

trembled on the key. One word from him would send a half dozen depth

charges into the water. On came the destroyer until it was directly

over the underseas craft. Dr. Bird pounded his key rapidly.

"Good Lord!" cried Carnes.

From the bump on the side of the submarine came a flash of red light.

The destroyer staggered for a moment, and the entire central section

of the ill-fated ship disappeared. The bow and stern came together

with a rush and went down in a swirling maelstrom of water. The plane

lurched in the air as a thundering crash rose from the sea.

The second destroyer, in no way daunted by the fate of her colleague,

rushed to the attack. Dr. Bird pounded his key frantically in an

attempt to turn her back. His message was too late or was

misunderstood. Straight over the submarine went the second ship. Again

came the red flash. The forward half of the destroyer disappeared and

the stern slid down into a huge hole which had opened in the water.

"He's invulnerable!" cried the doctor. He pounded his key with

feverish rapidity. The two remaining destroyers slackened speed and

veered off. Slowly, as though loath to turn their backs on the enemy,

they headed out for the broad Atlantic and comparative safety.

The submarine went slowly on her way. She did not turn west at the

mouth of the Potomac but continued on up the bay. As long as there was

light enough, the doctor's plane kept above her but the fading light

soon made it impossible to see her. When she had disappeared from

view, the doctor reluctantly gave the word to return to Washington.

* * * * *

"Where do you suppose he will attack next, Doctor?" asked Carnes when

they sat again in the doctor's private laboratory.

"Washington, of course," said Dr. Bird absently as he looked up from a

pile of telegrams he was running through.

"Why Washington?"

"Use your head. Representatives of every civilized power are in

Washington now at the President's invitation to consider means of

halting the anti-religious activities of the Soviets. The destruction

of the city and the killing of these men would be a telling blow for

Russia to strike."

"But, Doctor, you don't think--"

"Excuse me, Carnes; that will keep. Let me read these telegrams."

For half an hour silence reigned in the laboratory. Dr. Bird laid down

the last message with a sigh.

"Carnes," he said, "I'm check-mated. I sent out a hundred

ultra-sensitive short wave receivers yesterday. Four of them were

located within fifty miles of Wilmington, North Carolina. One of these

four was destroyed, but none of the others detected a sign of a wave

during the attack. One of them was within a hundred feet of the edge

of the hole. If he isn't using a ray of some sort, what on earth is he

using?"

"It looked like a flash of red light when it came from the submarine."

"Yes, but it couldn't be light. Let me think."

The doctor sat for a few minutes with corrugated brows. Suddenly he

sprang to his feet.

"I deserve to be beaten," he cried. "Why didn't I think of that

possibility before?"

* * * * *

He hurried into his laboratory and brought out a small box with a

glass front. From the top projected a spike topped with a ball.

Through the glass, Carnes could see a thin sheet of metal hanging

pendant from the spike.

"An electroscope," explained the doctor. "That sheet of metal is

really two sheets of gold-leaf, at present stuck together. If I rub a

piece of hard rubber with a woolen cloth, the rod will become charged

with static electricity. If I then touch the ball with it, the charge

is transferred to the electroscope and causes the two sheets of

gold-leaf to stand apart at an angle. Watch me."

He took a hard rubber rod and rubbed it briskly on his coat sleeve. As

he touched the ball of the electroscope the sheets of gold-leaf

separated and stood apart at a right angle.

"As long as the air remains non-conducting, the two bits of gold-leaf

will hold that position. The air, however, is not a perfect insulator

and the charge will gradually leak off. If I bring a bit of

radioactive substance, for instance, pitchblende, near the

electroscope, the charge will leak rapidly. Do you understand?"

"Yes, but how is that going to help us?"

"Saranoff is accomplishing his result by artificially compressing the

atoms. It is inevitable that he will do it imperfectly, and some

electrons will be loosened and escape. These electrons, traveling up

through the earth will make the air conducting. To-morrow we will have

a means of locating the borer under ground."

"Once you locate it, how will you fight it?"

"That is the problem I must work out to-night."

"Could we bury a charge of explosive and blow it up?"

* * * * *

"Ordinary explosives would be useless," the doctor answered. "They

would react in the same manner as other substances, and would be

rendered harmless. Radite might do the work if it could be placed in

the path, but it couldn't be. We may locate the position and depth of

the borer, but long before we could dig and blast a hole deep enough

to place a charge of radite before it, it would have passed on or

changed direction. No, Carnes, old dear, the only solution that I can

see is to turn his own guns on him. If I can, before morning,

duplicate his device, we can train it on the spot where he is and

reduce him and his machine to a pinch of yellow powder."

"Can you do it, Doctor?"

"What one man's brain can device, another man's brain can duplicate.

The only question is that of time. I am confident that Saranoff will

attack Washington to-morrow. If I can do the job to-night, we may save

the city. If not--At any rate, Carnes, your job will be to see that

the President and all of the heads of the government are out of the

city by morning. The President may refuse to leave. Knowing him as I

do, I rather expect he will."

"In that case, the issue is in the hands of the gods. Now get out of

here. I want to work. Report back at daybreak with a car."

Dr. Bird turned back to his laboratory.

"He must be using a ray of some sort, possibly a radium emanation," he

muttered to himself. "That would have no wave motion and might

accomplish the result, although I would expect the exact opposite from

it. The first thing to do is to examine that powder with a

spectroscope and see if I can get a clue to the electronic

arrangement."

* * * * *

When Carnes arrived at the Bureau of Standards at dawn be rubbed his

eyes in astonishment. The buildings were lighted up and the grounds

swarmed with workmen. Before the buildings were lined up a dozen

trucks and twice that many touring cars. A cordon of police held back

the curious. Carnes' gold badge won him an entrance and he hurried up

the stairs to Dr. Bird's laboratory. The doctor's face was drawn and

haggard, but his eyes glowed with a feverish light. Workmen were

carrying down huge boxes.

"What's up, Doctor?" demanded the detective.

"Oh, you got here at last, did you? You're just in time. If you'd been

fifteen minutes later, you would have found us gone."

"Gone where?"

"Out into Maryland in an attempt to stop Saranoff in his progress

toward Washington."

"Have you found your means of combating him?"

"I hope so, although it is not what I started out to get. Did you

bring a car as I told you?"

"It's waiting below."

"Good enough. I'll go in it. Williams, are those projectors all

loaded?"

"Yes, Dr. Bird. The magnet will be ready to go in five minutes. The

electroscopes and the other light stuff are all loaded and ready to

move."

"You have done well. I'll let you bring the trucks and heavy equipment

while I go ahead with the instruments. Take the road out toward Upper

Marlboro. If I don't meet you before, stop there for orders."

"Very well, Doctor."

"Come on, Carnes, let's go."

* * * * *

He raced down the stairs with the detective at his heels. He went

along the line of touring cars and spoke briefly to the drivers. He

climbed into the car which Carnes had brought. As it started the other

cars fell in behind it. At a speed of forty miles an hour, with a

detachment of motorcycle police leading the van, the cavalcade rolled

out through the deserted streets of Washington. Once clear of the

city, the speed was increased.

"Did you persuade the President to leave?" asked the doctor.

"There wasn't a chance. The papers panned him so much for following my

advice at Charleston that he has turned stubborn. He says that if all

the forces of the government can't protect him against one man, he is

willing to die."

"We've got to save him," said Dr. Bird grimly. "Hello, there's the

Chesapeake ahead."

The doctor studied the country.

"We are about opposite the place where we left that sub last night. I

fancy that Saranoff will operate from there, for it didn't move during

the last half hour we watched it. We'll go back inland a mile or two

and spread out. I have no idea how far his radiations will affect the

electroscopes, but we'll try four hundred-yard intervals to start.

That will enable us to cover a line twelve miles long."

He picked up a megaphone and spoke to the line of cars behind him.

"Take up four hundred yard intervals when we spread out," he said.

"Every man keep his headphone on and listen for orders. Follow my car

until it stops, then turn north and south and drop your men at

intervals."

He reentered the car and led the way back for two miles. He halted his

car at a crossroad. The cars following him turned and went to the

north and south. Besides Carnes and the doctor, the car held two men

from the Bureau. As they climbed out, Carnes saw that one of them

carried a portable radio sending set, while the other bore an

electroscope and a rubber rod. The radio operator set up his device,

while the other man rubbed his coat sleeve briskly with the hard

rubber and then touched the ball of the electroscope with it. The two

bits of gold-leaf spread out.

"While we're waiting, I'll explain something of this to you, Carnes,"

said the doctor. "At four hundred-yard intervals are men with

electroscopes like this one. My attempt to locate Saranoff by means of

wave detectors was a failure. That proved that the ray he was using is

not of the wave type. The other common ray is the cathode ray type

which does not consist of vibrations but of a stream of electrons,

negative particles of electricity, traveling in straight lines of high

velocity. He must be knocking loose some of the electrons when he

collapses the atoms. The rate of discharge of these electroscopes will

give us a clue to the nearness of his device."

* * * * *

"Once you locate him, how do you propose to attack him?"

"The obvious method, that of using his own ray against him, fell down.

However, in attempting to produce it, I stumbled on another weapon

which may be equally effective. I am going to try to use an exact

opposite of his ray. The cathode ray, when properly used, will bombard

the atoms and knock electrons loose. I perfected last night a device

on which I have been working for months. It is a super-cathode ray. I

tested it on the yellow powder and find that I can successfully

reverse Saranoff's process. He can contract matter together until it

occupies less than one one-thousandth of its original volume. My ray

will destroy this effect and restore matter to something like its

original condition."

"And the effect will be?"

"Use your imagination. He blasts out a hole by condensing the rock to

a pinch of yellow powder. He moves forward into the hole he has made.

I come along and reverse his process. The yellow powder expands to its

original volume and the hole he has made ceases to exist. What must

happen to the foreign body which had been introduced into the hole

that is no longer a hole?"

Carnes whistled.

"At any rate, I hope that I am never in a hole when that happens."

"And I devoutly hope that Saranoff is. I met with one difficulty. My

ray will not penetrate the depth of solid rock which separates his

borer from the surface."

"Then how will you reach him to crush him? You don't expect to drill

down ahead of him?"

"That is my stroke of genius, Carnes. I am going to make him bore the

hole down which my ray will travel to accomplish his destruction. The

cathode ray and rays of that type--"

* * * * *

"Pardon me, Doctor," interrupted the radio operator. "I have just

received a message from the squadron leader of the planes patrolling

the bay. He states that every inch of the Chesapeake Bay and the

Potomac River have been examined and no submarine is visible."

"I expected that. He will have opened a cavern under the earth, in

which his craft is safe from aerial observation. Once the borer has

left it, it is invulnerable no longer."

"What reply shall I make?"

"Tell him to keep up a constant patrol. Three navy subs with

radite-charged torpedos are on their way up the bay, together with

half a dozen destroyers. The subs will scout for such a hole as I have

described and will attack his sub if they find it. The destroyers will

stand by and support them."

The operator turned to his instrument. The electroscope observer

claimed the doctor's attention.

"There is a steady leak here, Doctor," he said. "I get a discharge in

eleven minutes."

"Probably a result of his work in opening the hiding place for his

submarine last night. Keep it charged, Jones."

"What did you say about the cathode ray, Doctor?" asked Carnes.

"The cathode ray? Oh, yes. I said that rays of that type were

attracted by--Hello, look there!"

From a point a mile to the north a ball of red fire streaked up into

the air. A moment later similar signals rose from other watchers in

the line.

"It works, Carnes!" cried the doctor as he rushed for the car. "We've

got him this time!"

* * * * *

The car raced along the road. At the first man who had signalled, it

slackened speed. The doctor leaned out.

"What is your discharge rate?" he called.

"Eight minutes. Doctor."

The car rolled on. Dr. Bird repeated the question at the next post and

was told that the electroscope there was losing its charge in seven

minutes. The next man reported four minutes and the next man, one

minute. The following station reported three minutes.

"It's right along here somewhere!" cried the doctor. "Summon everyone

to this point and take up twenty-yard intervals."

From the north and south the cars came racing in. The instruments were

spread out along a new line twenty yards apart. As the borer was

located the intervals were decreased to fifteen feet. Dr. Bird thrust

a long white rod into the ground.

"His path lies under here," he said. "Into the cars and go back a mile

and test again."

The borer was making slow progress, and it was half an hour before Dr.

Bird drove the second stake in the ground. With a transit he took the

bearing of the path and laid it out on a large scale map.

"We'll stop him between Marr and Ritchie," he announced. "Jones, I am

going back and set up my apparatus. Keep track of his movements. If

he changes direction, let me know at once."

* * * * *

The doctor's car tore off to the west. Near Upper Marlboro, he met the

convoy of trucks and led them to the selected spot. The trucks were

unloaded and the apparatus laid out. Attached to a huge transformer

were a dozen strange-looking projectors. What puzzled Carnes most was

a huge built-up steel bar wound about with heavy cable. Dr. Bird had

this bar erected on a truck and located it with great exactness. The

projectors were set up in a battery just east of the bar.

"How about power?" asked the doctor.

"We'll have it in five minutes," replied one of the men. "A power

transmission line carrying twenty-two thousand passes within two

hundred yards of here. We are phoning now to have the power cut off.

As soon as the line is dead we'll cut it and bring the ends here."

The electrician was good at his word. In five minutes the power line

had been cut and cables spliced to the ends. The cables were brought

to the doctor's apparatus and the main lines were rigged to the ends

of the cable wound around the bar. In parallel on taps, the projectors

were connected. Huge oil-switches were placed in both lines.

"All ready, Doctor," reported the electrician.

"Good work, Avent. He'll be here soon, I fancy."

A car whirled up and a man leaped out with a surveyor's rod. He set it

up on the ground while a companion watched through binoculars. He

moved it a hundred yards to the north and then back twenty. When he

was satisfied he turned to Dr. Bird.

"The direction of movement has not changed," he said. "The path will

pass under this stake."

Under the doctor's supervision, the truck carrying the bar moved

forward until it stood over the surveyor's stake. The battery of

projectors moved to a new location a few feet east of the rod. Other

cars came racing up.

"He's less than half a mile away, Doctor!" cried Jones.

"Get your electroscopes out and spot him a hundred yards from this

truck."

"Very well, Doctor."

* * * * *

The men with the instruments spread out along the path of the borer.

Briskly they rubbed their sleeves with the rubber rods and charged

their instruments. Almost as fast as they charged them, the tiny bits

of gold-leaf collapsed together. Presently the man on the end of the

line shouted.

"Maximum discharge!" he cried.

Dr. Bird looked around. Every man stood ready at his post. The next

man signalled that the borer was under him. Carnes felt himself

trembling. He did not know what the doctor was about to do, but he

felt that the fate of America hung in the balance. Whether it remained

free or became the slave of Soviet Russia would quickly be decided.

Slowly the borer made its way forward. With a pale face, Jones

signalled the news that it had reached the point the doctor had

indicated. Dr. Bird raised his hand.

"Power!" he cried.

The electrician closed a switch and power surged through the cables

around the bar. The earth rocked and quivered. A hundred yards east of

the bar a flash of intolerable red light sprang from the ground with a

roar like that of Niagara. Toward the bar it moved with gathering

momentum.

"Back, everyone!" roared Dr. Bird.

* * * * *

The men sprang back. The searing ray approached the bar. It touched

it, and bar and truck disappeared into thin air. A splutter of sparks

came from the severed ends of the wire. The ray disappeared. Carnes

rubbed his eyes. Where the truck had rested on solid ground was now a

gaping wound in the earth.

"Projector forward!" cried the doctor. "Hurry, men!"

The trucks bearing the battery of projectors moved forward until they

were at the edge of the hole. Portable cranes swung the lamps out, and

men swarmed over them. The projectors were pointed down the hole.

Carnes joined the doctor in peering down. A hundred yards below them

the terrible ray was blazing. As they watched, its end came in sight.

The ray was being projected forward from the end of a black

cigar-shaped machine which was slowly moving forward.

"That's your target, men!" cried the doctor. "Align on it and signal

when you are ready!"

One by one the projector operators raised their hands in the signal of

"ready." Still the doctor waited. Suddenly the forward movement of the

black body ceased. The ray was stationary for a moment and then moved

slowly upward. A terrific roaring came from the cavern.

"Projector switch!" roared the doctor, his heavy voice sounding over

the tumult.

"Ready, sir!" a shrill voice answered.

"Power!"

* * * * *

From each of the projectors a dazzling green ray leaped forth as the

switch was closed. There was a crash like all the thunder of the

universe. Before the astonished eyes of the detective, the hole

closed. Not only did it close but the earth piled up until the trucks

were overturned and the green rays blazed in all directions.

"Power off!" roared the doctor.

The switch was opened and the ray died out. Before them was a huge

mound where a moment before had been a hole.

"You see, Carnes," said Dr. Bird with a wan smile. "I made him bore

his own hole, as I promised."

"I saw it, but I don't understand. How did you do it?"

"Magnetism. Rays of the cathode type are deflected from their course

by a magnet. His ray proved unusually susceptible, and I drew it

toward a huge electro-magnet which I improvised. When the magnet was

destroyed, the ray dropped back ... to its original ... direction.

That's the end ... of Saranoff. That is ... I hope ... it is."

Dr. Bird's voice had grown slower and less distinct as he talked. As

he said the last words, he slumped gently to the ground. Carnes sprang

forward with a cry of alarm and bent over him.

"What's the matter, Doctor?" he demanded anxiously, shaking the

scientist. Dr. Bird rallied for a moment.

"Sleep, old dear," he murmured. "Four days--no sleep. Go 'way, I'm ...

going ... to ... sleep...."

[Illustration: Advertisement]

The Exile of Time

PART TWO OF A FOUR-PART NOVEL

_By Ray Cummings_

WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE

[Illustration: Where nothing had been stood a cage.]

[Sidenote: Young lovers of three eras are swept down the torrent of

the sinister cripple Tugh's frightful vengeance.]

"Let me out! Let me out!" came the cry.

"What's that, Larry? Listen!" I said to my companion.

We stopped in the street. We had heard a girl's scream: then her

frantic, muffled words to attract our attention. Then we saw her white

face at the basement window. It was on the night of June 8-9, 1950,

when I was walking with my friend Larry Gregory through Patton Place

in New York City. My name is George Rankin. In a small, deserted house

we found the strange girl; brought her out; took her away in a taxi to

an alienist for examination.

We thought she might be demented--this strangely beautiful girl, in a

long white satin dress with a powdered white wig, and a black beauty

patch on her cheek--for she told us that the deserted house had just a

few minutes before been her house; and though we assured her this was

the summer of 1935, she told us her name was Mistress Mary Atwood,

that her father was Major Atwood of General Washington's staff, and

that she had just now come from the year 1777!

We took her to my friend Dr. Alten and she told her strange story. A

cage, like a room of shining metal bars, had materialized in her

garden. A great mechanical monster--a thing of metal, ten feet tall

and fashioned in the guise of a man--had captured her. She was whirled

away into the future, in the cage; then she was released, the cage had

vanished, and Larry and I had passed by the house and rescued her.

* * * * *

Captured by a Robot in a Time-traveling cage! We tried to fathom it.

And why had she been captured? Had she some enemy? She could only

think of a fellow called Tugh. He was a hideously repulsive cripple

who had dared make love to her and had threatened vengeance against

her and her father.

"Tugh!" exclaimed Alten. "A cripple? Why, he lived in New York City

three years ago, in 1932!"

A coincidence? The Tugh whom Mary knew in 1777 seemed the same person

who, in 1932, had gotten into trouble with the New York police and had

vowed some weird vengeance against them and all the city. And, equally

strange, this house on Patton Place where we had found the girl was

owned by the same Tugh who now was wanted for the murder of a girl and

could not be found!

With Dr. Alten, and Mary Atwood, Larry and I returned that same night

to the house on Patton Place. Near dawn, in the back yard of the

house, the Time-traveling cage appeared again! The Robot came from it.

Alten, Larry and I attacked the monster, and were defeated. When the

fight was over, Larry and Alten lay senseless. The mechanical thing

seized Mary and me, shoved us in the cage and whirled us away into

Time.

Larry presently recovered. He rushed into Patton Place, and in his

path another, much smaller cage appeared. A man and a girl leaped from

it; and, when Larry fought with them, they carried him off in their

vehicle.

* * * * *

He learned they were chasing the larger cage. They were not hostile to

Larry and presently made friends with him. They were Princess Tina and

a young scientist named Harl, both of the world of 2930. The two cages

had come from 2930. The larger one had been stolen by an

insubordinate Robot named Migul--a pseudo-human mechanism running

amuck.

Again Tugh, the cripple, was mentioned. In 2930 he was a prominent

scientist! But Harl and Tina mistrusted him. Tugh and Harl had

invented the Time-traveling cages. It was a strange Time-world, that

2930, which now was described to Larry. It was an era in which all

work was done by mechanisms--fantastic Robots, all but human! And they

were now upon the verge of revolt against their human masters! Migul

was one of them. It had stolen one of the cages, gone to 1777 and

abducted Mary Atwood; and now, with her and me in its power, was

headed back for 1777 upon some strange mission. Was it acting for the

cripple Tugh? It seemed so. Tina and Harl, with Larry, chased our cage

and stopped in a night of the summer of 1777.

Simultaneously, from the house on Patton Place, in June of 1935,

Robots began appearing. A hundred of them, or a thousand, no one knew.

With swords and flashing red and violet light-beams they spread over

the city in the never-to-be-forgotten Massacre of New York! It was the

beginning of the vengeance Tugh had threatened! Nothing could stop the

monstrous mechanical men. For three days and nights New York City was

in chaos. The red beams were frigid. They brought a mid-summer

snowstorm! Then the violet beams turned the weather suddenly hot. A

crazy wild storm swept the wrecked city. Torrential hot rain poured

down. Then, one dawn, the beams vanished; the Robots retreated into

the house on Patton Place and disappeared; and New York was left a

horror of death and desolation.

The vengeance of Tugh against the New York City of 1935 was complete.