 Chapter 9 of The Exploits of Elaine, by Arthur B. Reed, Chapter 9, The Death Ray Kennedy was reading a scientific treatise one morning, while I was banging on the typewriter, when a knock at the laboratory door disturbed us. By some intuition Craig seemed to know who it was. He sprung to open the door, and there stood Elaine Dodge and her lawyer, Perry Bennett. Instantly Craig read from the startled look on Elaine's face that something dreadful had happened. Why, what's the matter? he asked solicitously. Another letter from the clutching hand she exclaimed breathlessly. Mr. Bennett was calling on me when this note was brought in. We both thought we'd better see you at once about it, and he was kind enough to drive me here right away in his car. Craig took the letter and we both read with amazement. Are you an enemy of society? If not, order Craig Kennedy to leave the country by nine o'clock tomorrow morning. Otherwise a pedestrian will drop dead outside his laboratory every hour until he leaves. The note was signed by the now familiar sinister hand, and had added a postscript which read, as the token of his leaving, having placed a vase of flowers on his laboratory window today. What shall we do, query Bennett, evidently very much alarmed at the threat. Do, replied Kennedy, laughing contemptuously at the apparently futile threat. Why, nothing, just wait. The day proved uneventful and I paid no further attention to the warning letter. It seemed too preposterous to amount to anything. Kennedy, however, with his characteristic foresight, as I learned afterwards, had not been entirely unprepared, though he had affected to treat the thing with contempt. His laboratory, I may say, was at the very edge of the university buildings, with the campus back of it, but opening on the other side on a street that was ordinarily not overcrowded. We got up as usual the next day and, quite early, went over to the laboratory. Kennedy, as was his custom, plunged straight away into his work and appeared absorbed by it, while I wrote. There is something queer going on, Walter, he remarked. This thing registers some kind of wireless rays. Infrared, I think. Something like those that they say that Italian scientist, Ulivi, claims he has discovered and called the F-rays. How do you know, I asked, looking up from my work, what's that instrument you are using? A bolo meter, invented by the late Professor Langley, he replied, his attention riveted on it. Some time previously Kennedy had had installed on the window ledge one of those mirror-like arrangements, known as a busy body, which shows those in a room what is going on on the street. As I moved over to look at the bolo meter, I happened to glance into the busy body and saw that a crowd was rapidly collecting on the sidewalk. Look, Craig, I called hastily. He hurried over to me and looked. We could both see in the busy body mirror a group of excited passer-by bending over a man lying prostrate on the sidewalk. He had evidently been standing on the curb-stone outside the laboratory and had suddenly put his hand to his forehead. Then he had literally crumbled up into a heap as he sunk to the ground. The excited crowd lifted him up and bore him away, and I turned in surprise to Craig. He was looking at his watch. It was now only a few minutes past nine o'clock. Not a quarter of an hour later, our door was excitedly flung open and Elaine and Perry Bennett arrived. I've just heard of the accident. She cried fearfully. Isn't it terrible? What had we better do? For a few moments no one said a word. Then Kennedy began carefully examining the bolo meter and some other recording instruments he had, while the rest of us watched, fascinated. Somehow that busy body seemed to attract me. I could not resist looking into it from time to time as Kennedy worked. I was scarcely able to control my excitement when, again, I saw the same scene enacted on the sidewalk before the laboratory. Hurriedly I looked at my watch. It was ten o'clock. Craig, I cried another. Instantly he was at my side, gazing eagerly. There was a second innocent pedestrian lying on the sidewalk while a crowd, almost panic-stricken, gathered about him. We watched almost stunned by the suddenness of the thing. Until finally, without a word, Kennedy turned away. His face set in tense lines. It's no use, he muttered, as we gathered about him. We're beaten. I can't stand this sort of thing. I will leave tomorrow for South America. I thought Elaine Dodge would faint at the shock of his words coming so soon after the terrible occurrence outside. She looked at him speechless. It happened that Kennedy had some artificial flowers on a stand which he had been using long before in the study of synthetic colouring materials. Before Elaine could recover her tongue, he seized them and stuck them into a tall beaker like a vase. Then he deliberately walked to the window and placed the beaker on the ledge in a most prominent position. Elaine and Bennett, to say nothing of myself, gazed at him, awe-struck. Is there no other way but to surrender? She asked. Kennedy mournfully shook his head. I'm afraid not, he answered slowly. There's no telling how far a fellow who has this marvellous power might go. I think I'd better leave to save you. He may not content himself with innocent outsiders always. Nothing that any of us could say, not even the pleadings of Elaine herself could move him. The thought that at eleven o'clock a third innocent passerby might lie stricken on the street seemed to move him powerfully. When at eleven nothing happened as it had at the other two hours, he was even more confirmed in his purpose. Entreaties had no effect, and late in the morning he succeeded in convincing us all that his purpose was irrevocable. As we stood at the door, mournfully bidding our visitors farewell until the morrow, when he had decided to sail, I could see that he was eager to be alone. He had been looking now and then at the peculiar instrument, which he had been studying earlier in the day, and I could see on his face a sort of subtle intentness. I'm so sorry, Craig, murmured Elaine, choking back her emotion and finding it impossible to go on. So am I, Elaine, he answered tensely, but perhaps when this trouble blows over, he paused, unable to speak, turned and shook his head. Then a fourth gaiety he bade Elaine and Perry Bennett adieu, saying that perhaps a trip might do him good. They had scarcely gone out, and Kennedy closed the door carefully, when he turned and went directly to the instrument, which I had seen him observing so interestingly. Plainly I could see that it was registering something. What's the matter? I asked, non-plussed. Just a moment, Walter, he replied evasively, as if not quite sure of himself. He walked fairly close to the window this time, keeping well out of the direct line of it, however, and there stood gazing out into the street. A glint, as if of the sun shining on a pair of opera glasses, could be seen from the window across the way. We are being watched, he said slowly, turning and looking at me fixedly, but I don't dare investigate, lest it cost the lives of more unfortunates. He stood for a moment in deep thought. Then he pulled out a suitcase and began silently to pack it. Although we had not dared to investigate, we knew that from a building across the street, emissaries of the clutching hand were watching for our signal of surrender. The fact was, as we found out later, that in a poorly furnished room, much after the fashion of that witch with the help of the authorities, we had once raided in the suburbs, there were, at the moment, two crooks. One of them was the famous, or rather the infamous, Professor LaCroix, with whom, in a disguise as a doctor, we had already had some experience when he stole from the hillside sanitarium the twilight sleep drugs. The other was the young secretary at the clutching hand, who had given the warning at the suburban headquarters at the time, when they were endeavouring to transfuse Elaine Dodge's blood to save the life of the crook whom she had shot. He used the new headquarters at the master criminal, very carefully guarded. Look, cried LaCroix, very much elated at the effect that had been produced by his infrared rays. There is the sign, the vase of flowers. We have got him this time. Professor LaCroix gleefully patted a peculiar instrument beside him. Apparently, it was a combination of powerful electric arcs, the rays of which were shot through were funnel-like arrangement into a converter, or rather a sort of concentration apparatus from which the dread power could be released through a tube-like affair at one end. It was his infrared heatwave, a fray engine. I told you it would work, cried LaCroix. I did not argue any further with Craig about his sudden resolution to go away, but it is a very solemn proceeding to pack up and admit defeat after such a brilliant succession of cases as had been his until we met this master criminal. He was unshakable, however, and the next morning we closed the laboratory and loaded our baggage, which was considerable on a taxi cab. Neither of us said much, but I saw a quick look of appreciation on Craig's face as we pulled up at the wharf and saw that the Dodge car was already there. He seemed deeply moved that Elaine should come at such an early hour to have a last word. Our cab stopped, and Kennedy moved over toward her car, directing two porters, whom I noticed that he chose with care, to wait at one side. One of them was an old Irishman with a slight limp, the other a wiry Frenchman with a pointed beard. In spite of her pleadings, however, Kennedy held to his purpose and, as wish your hands for the last time, I thought that Elaine would almost break down. Here you fellows now, directed Craig, turning brusquely to the porters, hustle that baggage right aboard. Can't we go on the ship too?" asked Elaine, appealingly. I'm sorry, I'm afraid there isn't time. Apologise, Craig. We finally tore ourselves away, followed by the porters carrying as much as they could. Bon voyage! cried Elaine, bravely keeping back a choke in her voice. Near the gangplank in the crowd, I noticed a couple of sinister faces watching the ship's officers and the passengers going aboard. Kennedy's quick eyes spotted them too, but he did not show in any way that he noticed anything as, followed by our two porters, we quickly climbed the gangplank. A moment Craig paused by the rail and waved to Elaine and Bennett, who returned the salute feelingly. I paused at the rail too, speculating how we were to get the rest of our baggage aboard in time, for we had taken several minutes saying goodbye. In there, pointed Kennedy quickly to the porters, indicating our state room, which was an outside room. Come, Walter. I followed him in with a heavy heart. Outside could be seen the two sinister faces in the crowd watching intently, with eyes fixed on the state room. Finally, one of the crooks boarded the ship hastily. While the other watched, the two porters come out of the state room and pause at the window, speaking back into the room as they were answering commands. Then the porters quickly ran along the deck and down the plank to get the rest of the luggage. As they approached the Dodge car, Elaine, Aunt Josephine and Perry Bennett were straining their eyes to catch a last glimpse of us. The porters took a small but very heavy box and, lugging and tugging, hastened toward the boat with it, but they were too late. The gangplank was being hauled in. They shouted, but the ship officers waved them back. Too late, one of the deckhands shouted, a little pleased to see that someone would be inconvenienced for tardiness. The porters argued, but it was no use. All they could do was to carry the box back to the Dodge car. Miss Dodge was just getting in as they returned. What shall we do with this and the other stuff? asked the Irish porter. She looked at the rest at the tagged luggage and the box which was marked. Scientific instruments, variable, handle with care. Here, pile them in here, she said, indicating the taxi cab. I'll take charge of them. Meanwhile, one of our sinister-faced friends had just had time to regain the shore after following us aboard ship and strolling past the window of our state room. He paused long enough to observe one of the occupants studying a map while the other was opening a bag. There gone, he said to the other, as he rejoined him on the dock, giving a nod of his head and a jerk of his thumb at the ship. Yes, added the other crook, and lost most of their baggage too. Slowly the Dodge car proceeded through the streets up from the riverfront, followed by the taxi cab, until at last the Dodge mansion was reached. There Elaine and Aunt Josephine got out, and Bennett stood talking with them a moment. Finally he excused himself reluctantly, for it was now late, even for a lawyer to get to his office. As he hurried over to the subway, Elaine nodded to the porters in the taxi cab. Take that stuff in the house, we'll have to send it by the next boat. Then she followed Aunt Josephine while the porters unloaded the boxes and bags. Elaine sighed moodily as she walked slowly in. Here, Marie, she cried petulantly to her maid. Take these raps of mine. Marie ventured no remark, but like a good servant took them. A moment later Aunt Josephine left her, and Elaine went into the library and over to a table. She stood there an instant, then sunk down into a chair, taking up Kennedy's picture and gazing at it with eyes filled by tears. Just then Jennings came into the room, ushering the two porters laden with the boxes and bags. Where shall I have them put these things, Miss Elaine? He inquired. Oh, anyway, she answered hurriedly, replacing the picture. Jennings paused. As he did so, one of the porters lived forward. I've a message for you, Miss. He said in a rich Irish brogue, with a look at Jennings, to be delivered in private. Elaine glanced at him, surprised. Then she nodded to Jennings, who disappeared. As he did so, the Irishman linked to the door and drew together the porters. Then he came back closer to Elaine. A moment she looked at him, not quite knowing from his strange actions whether to call for help or not. At a motion from Kennedy, as he pulled off his wig, I pulled off the little false beard. Elaine looked at us, transformed, startled. What, what? She stammered. Oh, I'm so glad. How Kennedy said nothing. He was thoroughly enjoying her face. Don't you understand? I explained, laughing merrily. I admit that I didn't, until that last minute in the state room on the boat, when we didn't come back to wave a last goodbye. But all the care that Craig took in selecting the porters was the result of work he did yesterday. And in the insistence with which he chose our travelling clothes had a deep-laid purpose. She said nothing, and I continued. The change was made quickly in the state room. Kennedy's man threw on the coat and had he wore, while Craig donned the rough clothes of the porter and added a limp and a wig. The same sort of exchange of clothes was made by me and Craig, clipped a van dyke beard on my chin. I'm so glad, she repeated. I didn't think you'd… She cut the sentence short, remembering her eyes and the photograph as we entered, and a deep blush crimsoned her face. Mum's the word, caution, Kennedy. You must smuggle us out of the house someway. Kennedy lost no time in confirming the suspicions of his volumeter, as to the cause of the death of the two innocent victims of the machinations of the clutching hand. Both of them, he had learned, had been removed to a nearby undertaking shop, awaiting the verdict of the coroner. We sought out the shop and prevailed on the undertaker to let us see the bodies. As Kennedy pulled down the shroud from the face of the first victim, he disclosed on his forehead a round dark spot about the size of a small coin. Quickly he moved to the next coffin and, uncovering the face, disclosed a similar mark. What is it? I asked, all struck. Why, he said, I've heard of a certain Viennese, one La Croix, I believe, who has discovered or perfected an infrared ray instrument, which shoots its power a great distance with extreme accuracy, and leaves a mark like these. Is he in New York? I inquired anxiously. Yes, I believe he is. Kennedy seemed indisposed to answer more, until he knew more, and I saw that he would prefer not being questioned for the present. We thanked the undertaker for his courtesy, and went out. Meanwhile, Elaine had called up Perry Bennett. Mr. Bennett, she exclaimed over the wire, just guess who called on me? Who, he answered, I'd give it up. Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Jameson, she called back. Is that so? He returned. Isn't that fine? I didn't think he was the kind to run away like that. How did it happen? Elaine quickly told the story, as I had told her. Had she known it, however, Bennett's valet, Thomas, was at that very moment listening at the door, intensely interested. As Bennett hung up the receiver, Thomas entered the room. If anyone calls me, ordered Bennett, take the message, particularly if it is from Miss Dodge. I must get downtown, and tell her after I finish my court work for the day, I shall be right up. Yes, sir, not at the valet, with a covered glance and his master. Then, as Bennett left, he followed him to the door, paused, thought a moment, then, as though coming to a sudden decision, went out by an opposite door. It was not long afterward that a knock sounded at the door at the new headquarters of the clutching hand. LaCroix and the secretary were there, as well as a couple of others. The check exclaimed one. The secretary opened the door, and, sure enough, the clutching hand entered. Well, how did your infrared rays work? He asked LaCroix. Fine. And they're gone? Yes, the flowers were in the window yesterday. Two of our men saw them on the boat. There came another knock. This time, as the door opened, it was Thomas, Bennett's faithless valet, who entered. Say, blurted out the informer, Do you know Kennedy and Jameson are back? Back cried the crooks. Yes, they didn't go. Change clothes with the porters. I'd just heard Miss Dodge telling Mr. Bennett. Clutching hand eyed him keenly. Then seemed to burst into an ungovernable fury. Quickly he began following orders of the valet and the others. Then, with the secretary and two of the other crooks, he left by another door, from that, by which he had, sent the valet forth. Leaving the undertakers, Kennedy and I made our way, taking off thoroughfares, to police headquarters, where, after making ourselves known, Craig made arrangements for a raid on the house across the street from the laboratory, where we had seen the opera glass reflection. Then, as secretly as we had come, we went out again, letting ourselves into the laboratory, stealthily looking up and down the street. We entered by basement door, which Kennedy carefully locked again. No sooner had we disappeared than one of the clutching hand spies, who had been watching behind a barrel of rubbish, gave the signal of the hand down the street to a confederate, and, going to the door, entered by means of a skeleton key. We entered our laboratory, which Kennedy had closed the day before, with shade-strawed and now looked deserted enough. I dropped into a chair and lighted a cigarette with a sigh of relief, for really I had thought, until the boat sailed, that Kennedy actually contemplated going away. Kennedy went over to a cabinet and, from it, took out a notebook and a small box. Opening the notebook on the laboratory table, he rapidly turned the pages. Here, Walter, he remarked, this will answer your questions about the mysterious deadly ray. I moved over to the table, eager to satisfy my curiosity, and read the notes, which he indicated with his finger. Infrared ray notes. The infra-red ray, which had been developed by La Croix, from the experiments of the Italian scientist Ullevi Causes, when concentrated by an apparatus perfected by La Croix, an instantaneous combustion of non-reflecting surfaces. It is particularly deadly in its effect on the brain's centers. It can be diverted, it is said, however, by a shield composed of platinum backed by asbestos. Next Kennedy opened the case, which he had taken out of the cabinet, and, from it, he took out the platinum asbestos mirror, which was something of his own invention. He held it up, and in pantomime, showed me just how it would cut off the deadly rays. He had not finished even that, when a peculiar noise in the laboratory itself disturbed him, and he hastily thrust the asbestos platinum shield into his pocket. Though we had not realized it, our return had been anticipated. Suddenly, from a closet projected a magazine gun, and before we could move, the clutching hand himself slowly appeared behind us. Ah, he exclaimed, with mock politeness. So you thought you'd feel me, did you? Well, just then two other crooks, who had let themselves in by the skeleton key through the basement, jumped into the room through that door covering us. We started to our feet, but in an instant found ourselves both sprawling on the floor. In the cabinet, beneath the laboratory table, another crook had been hidden, and he tackled us with all the skill of an old football player against whom we had no defence. Four of them were upon us instantly. At the same time, Thomas, the faithless valet of Bennett, had been dispatched by the clutching hand to commandeer his master's roadster in his absence. And carrying out the instructions, he had driven up before Elaine's house at the very moment when she was going out for a walk. Thomas jumped out of the car and touched his hat, deferentially. A message from Mr. Bennett, ma'am, he exclaimed, Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Bennett have sent me to ask you to come over to the laboratory. Unsuspecting, Elaine stepped into the car and drove off. Instead, however, of turning and pulling up on the laboratory side of the street, Thomas stopped opposite it. He got out and Elaine, thinking that perhaps it was to save time that he had not turned the car around, followed. But when the valet, instead of crossing the street, went up to a door of a house and rung the bell, she began to suspect that all was not as it should be. What are you going here for, Thomas? She asked. There's the laboratory over there. But, Miss Dodge, he apologised. Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Bennett are here. They told me they'd be here. The door was opened quickly by a lookout at the clutching hand, and the valet asked if Craig and Elaine's lawyer were in. Of course, the lookout replied that they were, and before Elaine knew it, she was jostled into the dark hallway and the door was being shut. Resistance was useless now, and she was hurried along until another door was opened. There she saw La Croix and the other crooks. And as the door slammed, she caught sight of the fearsome clutching hand himself. She drew back, but was too frightened even to scream. With a harsh, cruel laugh, the super-criminal beckoned to her to follow him and looked down through a small trapdoor. Unable now to resist, she looked. There she saw us. To that extent, the valet had told the truth. Kennedy was standing in deep thought while I sat on an old box smoking a cigarette, very miserable. Was this to be the sole outcome of Kennedy's clever ruse? I was wondering, were we only to be shipwrecked inside a port? Watching his chance when the street was deserted, the clutching hand and his followers had hustled us over to the new hangout across from the laboratory. There they had met more crooks and had thrust us into this vile hole. As the various ineffectual schemes for escape surged through my head, I happened to look up and caught a glance of horror on Craig's face. I followed his eyes. There, above us, was Elaine. I saw a look from us to the clutching hand in terror, but none of us uttered a word. I will now show you, my dear young lady, almost hissed the clutching hand at length, as pretty a game of hide and seek as you have ever seen. As he said it, another trapdoor near the infrared ray machine was opened and a beam of light burst through. I knew it was not the witch we had to fear, but the invisible rays that accompanied it, the rays that had affected the bola meter. Just then a spot of light showed near my foot, moving about the cement floor until it fell on my shoe. Instantly the leather charred even before I could move. Kennedy and I leaped to our feet and drew back. The beam followed us. We retreated further, still and followed inexorably. Clutching hand was now holding Elaine near the door, where she could not help seeing, laughing diabolically, while he directed La Croix and the rest to work the infrared ray apparatus through the trap. As we dodged from corner to corner, endeavouring to keep the red ray from touching us, the crook seemed in no hurry, but rather to enjoy prolonging the torture, as does a cat with the mouse. Please, oh, please stop, begged Elaine. Clutching hand only laughed with fiendish delight and urged his men on. The thing was getting closer and closer. Suddenly we heard a strange voice ring out above us. Please, where? Growned the clutching hand in fury. Outside, a raid! Run! He's told them. Already we could hear the hammers and axes of the police, whom Kennedy had called upon before, as they battled at the outside door. At that door, a moment before, the lookout suddenly had given a startled stare and a suppressed cry. Glancing down the street, he had seen a police patrol, in which were a score or more of the strong armed squad. They had jumped out, some carrying sledge hammers, other axes. Almost before he could cry out and retreat to give a warning, they had reached the door and the first resounding blows had been struck. The lookout quickly had fled and drawn the bolts of a strong inner door, and the police began battering that impediment. Instantly clutching hand turned to LaCroix at the fray machine. Finish them, he shouted. We were now backed up against a small owl in the wall of the cellar. It was barely large enough to hold us. But by crowding, we were able to keep out at the reach of the ray. The ray shot past the owl and struck a wall a couple of inches from us. I looked, the cement began to crumble under the intense heat. Meanwhile, the police were having great difficulty with the steel bolts start a door into the room. Still, it was yielding a bit. Hurry, shouted clutching hand to LaCroix. Kennedy had voluntarily placed himself in front of me in the owl. Carefully, to avoid the ray, he took the asbestos platinum shield from his pocket and slid it forward as best he could over the wall to the spot where the rays struck. It deflected the ray, but so powerful was it that even that part of the ray which was deflected could be seen to strike the ceiling in the corner which was of wood. Instantly, before Kennedy could even move the shield, the wood burst into flames. Above us, now smoke was pouring into the room where the deflected ray struck the floor and flames broke out. Confounding, ground out clutching hand as they saw it. The other crooks backed away and stood hesitating, not knowing quite what to do. The police had by this time finished battering in the door and had rushed into the outer passage. While the flames leaped up, the crooks closed the last door into the room. Run, shouted the clutching hand as they opened a secret gate disclosing a spiral flight of iron steps. A moment later, all had disappeared except clutching hand himself. The last door would hold only a few seconds but clutching hand was waiting to take advantage of even that. With the last frantic effort he sought to direct the terrific ray at us. Elaine acted instantly. With all her strength she rushed forward, overturning the machine. Clutching hand uttered a growl and slowly raised his gun, taking aim with the butt for a well-directed blow at her head. Just then the door yielded and a policeman stuck his head and shoulders through. His revolver rung out and clutching hands automatic flew out of his grasp, giving him just enough time to dodge through and slam the secret door in the faces of the squad as they rushed in. Back at the house clutching hand and the other crooks were now passing through a brick passage. The fire had got so far beyond control by this time that it drove the police back from their efforts to open the secret door. Thus the clutching hand had made good his escape through the passage which led out as we later discovered to the railroad tracks along the river. Down there Mr Kennedy and Mr. Jameson cried Elayne, pointing at the trap which was hidden in the stifle. The fire had gone terrific headway but the police seized a ladder and stuck it down into the basement. Choking and splattering, half suffocated, we staggered up. Are you hurt? Asked Elayne anxiously, taking Crane's arm. Not a bit, thanks to you, he replied, forgetting all in meeting the eager questioning of her wonderful eyes. End of Chapter 9 Chapter 10 of The Exploits of Elayne This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Exploits of Elayne by Arthur B. Reef Chapter 10 The Life Curric Assignments were being given out on the star one afternoon and I was standing talking with several other reporters in the busy hum of typewriters and clicking telegraphs. What do you think of that? Ask one of the fellows. You're something of a scientific detective, aren't you? Without laying claim to such a distinction I took the paper and read The Poise and Kiss Again. Three more New York women report being kissed by mysterious stranger later fell into deep unconsciousness. What is it? I had scarcely finished when one of the copy boys dashing past me called. You're wanted on the wire, Mr. Jameson? I hurried over to the telephone and answered. A musical voice responded to my hurried hello and I hastened to adopt my most polite tone. Is this Mr. Jameson? asked the voice. Yes, I replied, not recognising it. Well, Mr. Jameson, I've heard of you on the star and I've just had a very strange experience. I've had The Poise and Kiss. The woman did not pause to catch my exclamation of astonishment, Mr. Jameson. It was like this. A man ran up to me on the street and kissed me and I don't know how it was but I became unconscious and I didn't come to for an hour in a hospital, fortunately. I don't know what would have happened if it hadn't been that someone came to my assistance and the man fled. I thought the star would be there, I hastened to reply. Will you give me your name? Why? I am Mrs. Florence Lee at number 20 Prospect Avenue. Return the voice. Really, Mr. Jameson, something ought to be done about these cases. It surely had I assented with much interest writing her name eagerly down on a card. I'll be out to interview you directly. She jumped me and I hung up the receiver so I exclaimed hurrying over to the editor's desk. Here's another woman on the wire who says she has received the poison kiss. Suppose you take that assignment the editor answered sensing a possible story. I took it with a lackity figuring out the quickest way by elevated and surface car to reach the address. The conductor of the trolley indicated prospect avenue, and I hurried up the street until I came to the house, a neat, unpretentious place, looking at the address on the card first to make sure I rung the bell. I must say that I could scarcely criticise the poison kisses taste, for the woman who had opened the door certainly was extraordinarily attractive. And you really were put out by a kiss, I queried, as she led me into a neat sitting room. Absolutely. As much as if it had been by one of these poison needles you read about, she replied confidently, hastening on to describe the affair volubly. It was beyond me. May I use your telephone? I asked. Surely she answered. I called the laboratory. Is that you, Craig? I inquired. Yes, Walter, he answered, recognising my voice. Say, Craig, I asked breathlessly, what sort of kiss would suffocate a person? My only answer was an uproarous laugh from him at the idea. I know I persisted, but I've got the assignment from the star, and I'm out here interviewing a woman about it. It's all right to laugh, but here I am. I've found a case, names, dates and places. I wish you'd explain the thing then. Oh, all right, Walter, he replied indulgently. I'll meet you as soon as I can and help you out. I hung up the receiver with an air of satisfaction. At least now I would get an explanation of the woman's queer story. I'll clear this up, I said confidently. My friend Craig, Kennedy, the scientific detective, is coming out here. Good, that fellow who attacked me ought to be shown up. All women may not be as fortunate as I. We waited patiently. Her story certainly was remarkable. She remembered every detail up to a certain point, and then, as she said, all was blankness. The bell rang and the woman hastened to the door, admitting Kennedy. Hello, Walter, he greeted. This is certainly a most remarkable case, Craig, I said, introducing him and telling him briefly what I had learned. And you actually mean to say that a kiss had the effect? Just then the telephone interrupted. Yes, she reasserted quickly. Excuse me, a second. She answered the call. Oh, why, yes, he's here. Do you want to speak to him? Mr. Jameson, it's the star. Couldn't found it, I exclaimed. Isn't that like the old man, dragging me off this story before it's half finished, in order to get another? I'll have to go. I'll get this story from you, Craig. The day before, in the suburban house, the clutching hand had been talking to two of his emissaries, an attractive young woman and a man. They were flirty flurry and damned the dude. Now I want you to get Kennedy, he said. The way to do it is to separate Kennedy and Elaine, see? All right, Chief. We'll do it, they replied. I've rigged it so that you'll reach him through, Jameson. Understand? They nodded eagerly, as he told them the subtle plan. Clutching hand had scarcely left when flirty flurry began by getting published in the papers, the story which I had seen. The next day she called me up from the suburban house. Having got me to promise to see her, she had scarcely turned from the telephone when Dan the dude walked in from the next room. He's coming, she said. Dan was carrying a huge stag head with a beautifully branched pair of antlers. Under his arm was a coil of wire which he had connected to the inside of the head. Fine, he exclaimed. Then pointing to the head he added, it's all ready. See how I fixed it. That ought to please the chief. Dan moved quickly to the mantle and mounted a stepladder there by which he had taken down the head and started to replace the head above the mantle. He hooked the head on a nail. There he said, unscrewing one of the beautiful brown glass eyes of the stag. Back of it could be seen a camera shutter. Dan worked the shutter several times to see whether it was all right. One of those new quick shutter cameras he exclaimed. Then he ran a couple of wires along the moulding around the room and into a closet where he had made the connection with the sort of switchboard on which a button was marked, shutter, and the switch, wind film. Now flirty, he said, coming out of the closet and pulling up the shade which let a flood of sunlight into the room. You see I want you to stand here. Then do your little trick. Get me? I get you Steve, she laughed. Just then the bell rung. That must be Jameson, she cried. Now get to your corner. With the last look Dan went into the closet and shut the door. Perhaps half an hour later clutching hand himself called me up on the telephone. It was he, not the star, as I learned only too late. I had scarcely got out of the house, as Craig told me afterwards, when flirty flurry told all over again the embroidered tail that had caught my ear. Kennedy said nothing, but listened intently, perhaps betraying in his face the scepticism he felt. You see, she said, still voluble and eager to convince him, I was only walking on the street. Here, let me show you, it was just like this. She took his arm and before he knew it, led him to the spot on the floor near the window which Dan had indicated. Meanwhile Dan was listening attentively in his closet. Now stand there, you are just as I was, only I didn't expect anything. She was pantomining someone approaching stealthily, while Kennedy watched her with interest, tinged with doubt. Behind Craig in his closet, Dan was reaching for the switchboard button. You see, she said, advancing quickly and acting her words, he placed his hands on my shoulders so, then threw his arms about my neck so. She said no more, but imprinted a deep, passionate kiss on Kennedy's mouth, clinging closely to him. Before Kennedy could draw away, Dan in the closet had pressed the button and the switch several times in rapid succession. That's very realistic, gasped Craig, a good deal taken aback by the sudden auscultory assault. He frowned. I'll look into the case, he said, backing away. There may be some scientific explanation, but he was plainly embarrassed and hastened to make his adieu. Kennedy had no more than shut the door before Dan with a gleeful laugh burst out of the closet and flung his own arms about Flory in an embrace that might have been poisoned. It is true, but was nonetheless real for that. How little impression the thing made on Kennedy can be easily seen from the fact that on the way downtown that afternoon he stopped at Martins on Fifth Avenue and bought a ring, a very handsome solitaire, the finest Martin had in the shop. It must have been about the time that he decided to stop at Martins that the Dodge Butler, Jennings, admitted a young lady who presented a card on which was engraved the name Miss Florence Lee 20 Prospect Avenue. As he handed Elaine the card, she looked up from the book she was reading and took it. I don't know her, she said, puckering her pretty brow. Do you? What does she look like? I never saw her before, Miss Elaine. Jennings wrote, but she's very well dressed. All right, show her in, Jennings. I'll see her. Elaine moved into the drawing room. Jennings bringing forward to part the portiers for her and passing through the room quickly, where Flirty Flory sat waiting. Flirty Flory rose and stood gazing at Elaine, apparently very much embarrassed, even after Jennings had gone. There was a short pause. The woman was the first to speak. It's embarrassing, she said finally, but Miss Dodge, I have come to you to beg for my love. Elaine looked at her nonplussed. Yes, she continued, you do not know it, but Craig Kennedy is infatuated with you. She paused again, then added that he is engaged to me. Elaine stared at the woman. She was dazed. She could not believe it. There is the ring, Flirty Flory added, indicating a very impressive pace diamond. Elaine frowned, but said nothing. Her head was in a whirl. She could not believe. Although Flory was very much embarrassed, she was quite as evidently very much wrought up. Quickly she reached into her bag and drew out two photographs. Without a word, handing them to Elaine. Elaine took them reluctantly. There's the proof, Flory said simply, choking a sob. Elaine looked with a start. Sure enough, there was the neat living room in the house on Prospect Avenue. In one picture, Flory had her arms over Kennedy's shoulders. In the other, apparently, they were passionately kissing. Elaine slowly laid the photographs on the table. Please, please, Miss Dodge, give me back my lost love. You are rich and beautiful. I am poor. I have only my good looks. But I love him, and he loves me, and has promised to marry me. Filled with wonder and misgivings now and quite as much embarrassed at the woman's pleadings as the woman herself had acted a moment before, Elaine tried to wave her off. Really, I don't know anything about all this. It doesn't concern me. Please go. Flory had broken down completely and was weeping softly into a life's handkerchief. She moved toward the door. Elaine followed her. Jennings pleased the lady to the door. Back in the drawing room, Elaine almost seized the photographs and hurried into the library where she could be alone. There she stood gazing at them, doubt, wonder, and fear battling on her plastic features. Just then she heard the bell and Jennings in the hall. She shoved the photographs away from her on the table. It was Kennedy himself, close upon the announcement of the butler. He was in a particular joyous and happy mood, for he had stopped at Martin's. How were you this afternoon? He greeted Elaine gaily. Elaine had been too overcome by what had just happened to throw it off so easily and received him with a quickly studied coolness. Still Craig, manlike, did not notice it at once. In fact, he was too busy gazing about to see that neither Jennings, Marie, nor the douana, Aunt Josephine, were visible. They were not, and he quickly took the ring from his pocket. Without waiting, he showed it to Elaine. In fact, so sure had he been that everything was plain sailing, that he seemed to take it almost for granted. Under other circumstances, he would have been right, but not to-night. Elaine very coolly admired the ring, as Craig might have eyed a specimen on a microscope slide. Still, he did not notice. He took the ring about to put it on her finger, Elaine drew away. Concealment was not her frank nature. She picked up the two photographs. What have you to say about those, she asked cuttingly. Kennedy, quite surprised, took them and looked at them. Then he let them fall carelessly on the table and dropped into a chair. They went back in a burst of laughter. Why, that was what they put over on Walter, he said. He called me up early this afternoon, told me he had discovered one of these poison kiss cases you have read about in the papers. Think of it, all that to pull a concealment camera. Such an elaborate business, just to get me weird they could fake this thing. I suppose they put someone up to saying she's engaged. Elaine was not so lightly affected, but she said severely, repressing her emotion. I don't understand, Mr Kennedy, how scientific inquiry into the poison kiss could necessitate this sort of thing. She pointed at the photographs accusingly. But he began, trying to explain. No buts, she interrupted. Then you believe that I... How can you, as a scientist, ask me to doubt the camera? She insinuated, very coldly turning away. Kennedy rapidly began to see that it was far more serious than he had at first thought. Very well, he said with a touch of impatience. If my word is not to be taken, I... I... He had seized his hat and stick. Elaine did not deign to answer. Then, without a word, he stalked out of the door. As he did so, Elaine hastily turned and took a few steps after him. As if to recall her words, then stopped, and her pride got the better of her. She walked slowly back to the chair by the table. The chair he had been sitting in, sunk down into it and cried. Kennedy was moping in the laboratory the next day when I came in. Just what the trouble was, I did not know. But I had decided that it was up to me to try to cheer him up. Say Craig, I began, trying to overcome his fit of blues. Kennedy, filled with his own thoughts, paid no attention to me. Still, I kept on. Finally he got up. Before I knew it, he took me by the ear and marched me into the next room. I saw that what he needed chiefly was to be left alone, and he went back to his chair, dropping down into it and banging his fists on the table. Under his breath he loosed a small volley of bitter expletives. Then he jumped up. By George I will, he muttered. I poked my head out of the door in time to see him grab his hat and coat and dash from the room, putting his coat on as he went. He's a nut today, I exclaimed to myself. Though I did not know it yet, at the quarrel Kennedy had really struggled with himself until he was willing to put his pride in his pocket and had made up his mind to call on Elaine again. As he entered he saw that it was really of no use for only Aunt Josephine was in the library. Oh, Mr. Kennedy, she said innocently enough. I'm so sorry she isn't here. There's been something troubling her, and she won't tell me what it is. But she's gone to call on a young woman, a Florence Lee, I think. Florence Lee exclaimed Craig with a start and a frown. Let me use your telephone. I had turned my attention in the laboratory to a story I was writing when I heard the telephone ring. It was Craig, without a word of apology for his rudeness, which I knew had been purely absent-minded. I heard him saying, Walter, meet me in half an hour outside that Florence Lee's house. He was gone in a minute, giving me scarcely time to call back that I would. Then, with a hasty apology for his rudeness, he excused himself, leaving Aunt Josephine wondering at his strange actions. At about the same time that Craig had left the laboratory, at the Dodge House Elaine and Aunt Josephine had been in the hall near the library. Elaine was in her street dress. I'm going out, Aunty, she said with an attempted gaiety, and she added, if anyone should ask for me, I'll be there. She had showed her a card on which was engraved, the name and address of Florence Lee. All right, dear, Aunty Aunt Josephine, not quite clear in her mind what subtle change there was in Elaine. Half an hour later I was waiting near the house in the suburbs to which I had been directed by the strange telephone call the day before. I noticed that it was apparently deserted. The blinds were closed and a to-let sign was on the side of the house. Hello, Walter, cried Craig at last, bustling along. He stopped a moment to look at the house. Then, together, we went up the steps and we rung the bell, gazing about. Strange muttered Craig, the house looks deserted. He pointed out the sign and the generally unoccupied look at the place, nor was there any answer to our ring. Kennedy paused only a second in thought. Come on, Walter, he said with a sudden decision, we've got to get in here somehow. He led the way around the side of the house to a window and with a powerful grasp wrenched open the closed shutters. He had just smashed the window viciously with his foot when a policeman appeared. Hey, you fellows, what are you doing there? He shouted. Craig paused a second, then pulled his card from his pocket. Just the man I want, he parried, much to the policeman's surprise. There's something crooked going on here. Follow us in. We climbed into the window. There was the same living room we had seen the day before, but it was now bare and deserted. Everything was gone except an old broken chair. Craig and I were frankly amazed at the complete and sudden change and I think the policeman was a little surprised that he had thought the place occupied. Come on, cried Kennedy, beckoning us on. Quickly he rushed through the house. There was not a thing in it to change the deserted appearance of the first floor. At last it occurred to Craig to grow his way down the cellar. There was nothing there either except a bin as innocent of coal as Mother Hubbard's cupboard was of food. For several minutes we hunted about without discovering a thing. Kennedy had been carefully going over the place and was at the other side of the cellar from ourselves when I saw him stop and gaze at the floor. He was not looking, apparently, so much as listening. I strained my ears but could make out nothing. Before I could say anything he raised his hand for silence apparently he had heard something. Hide he whispered suddenly to us. Without another word though for the life of me I could make nothing out of it. I pulled the policeman into a little angle at the wall nearby while Craig slipped into a similar angle. We waited a moment, nothing happened. Had he been seeing things or hearing things I wondered. From our hidden vantage we could now see a square piece in the floor perhaps five feet in diameter, slowly open up as though on a pivot. Beneath it we could make out a tube-like hole perhaps three feet across with the cupboard top. It slowly opened. A weird and sinister figure of a man appeared. Over his head he wore a peculiar helmet with hideous glass pieces over the eyes and tubes that connected with a tank which he carried buckled to his back. As he slowly dragged himself out I could wonder only at the outlandish headgear. Quickly he closed down the cover of the tube but not before a vile effluvium seemed to escape and penetrate even to us in our hiding places. As he moved forward Kennedy gave a flying leap at him and we fired with a regular football interference. It was the work of only a moment for us to subdue and hold him while Craig ripped off the helmet. It was Dan the dude. What's that thing I puffed as I helped Craig with the headgear An oxygen helmet he replied there must be air down the tube that cannot be breathed. He went over to the tube. Carefully he opened the top and gazed down starting back a second later with his face puckered up at the noxious odor. Silver gas he ejaculated as he slammed the cover down then he added to the policeman where do you suppose it comes from? Why? replied the officer. This and James Drain. An old sewer is somewhere about these parts. Kennedy puckered his face as he gazed at our prisoner. He reached down quickly and lifted something of the man's coat. Golden hair he muttered. A moment later he seized the man and shook him roughly. Where is she? Tell me he demanded. The man stalled some kind of reply refusing to say a word about her. Tell me repeated Kennedy. Ha! snorted the prisoner more close mouthed than ever. Kennedy was furious. As he sent the man reeling away from him he seized the oxygen helmet and began putting it on. There was only one thing to do to follow the clue of the golden strands of hair. Down into the pest hole he went. His head protected by the oxygen helmet. As he cautiously took one step after another down a series of iron rungs inside the hole he found that the water was up to his chest. At the bottom of the perpendicular pit was a narrow low passageway leading off. It was just about big enough to get through but he managed to grow along it. He came at last to the main drain an old stone walled sewer as murky a place as could well be imagined filled with the foulest sewer gas. He was hardly able to keep his feet in the swirling bubbling water that swept past almost up to his neck. The minutes passed as the policeman and I watched our prisoner in the cellar by the tube. I looked anxiously at my watch. Craig I shouted at last unable to control my fears for him. No answer. To go down after him seemed out of the question. By this time Craig had come to a small open chamber into which the sewer widened. On the wall he found another series of iron rungs up which he climbed. The gas was terrible. As he neared the top of the ladder he came to a shelf life at the sewer in the sewer chamber and gazed about. It was horribly dark. He reached out and felt a piece of cloth. Anxiously he pulled on it. Then he reached further into the darkness. There was Elane, unconscious, apparently dead. He shook her, endeavouring to wake her up but it was no use. In desperation Craig carried her down the ladder. With our prisoner we could only look helplessly around. Again and again I looked at my watch as the minutes lengthened. I suppose the oxygen gave out. By George I'm going down after him. I cried in desperation. Don't do it, advised the policeman. You'll never get out. One width of the horrible gas told me that he was right. I could not have been able to go fifty feet in it. I looked at him in despair. It was impossible. Listen, said the policeman, straining his ears. There was indeed a faint noise from the black depths below us. A rope alongside the rough ladder began to move as though someone was pulling it taut. We gazed down. Craig, Craig, I called. Is that you? No answer but the rope still moved. Perhaps the helmet made it impossible for him to hear. He had struggled back in the swirling current almost exhausted by his helpless burden, holding Elon's head above the surface of the water and pulling on the rope to attract my attention. For he could neither hear nor shout. He had taken a turn at the rope about Elon. I tried pulling on it. There was something heavy on the other end, and I kept on pulling. At last I could make out Kennedy dimly mounting the ladder. The weight was the unconscious body of Elon, which he steadied as he mounted. I tugged harder, and he slowly came up. Together at last the policeman and I reached down and pulled them out. We placed Elon on the cellar floor as comfortably as was possible, and the policeman began his first aid motions for resuscitation. No, no, cried Kennedy. Not here. Take her up where the air is fresher. With his revolvers still drawn to overall the prisoner, the policeman forced him to aid us in carrying her up, the rickety flight of cellar steps. Kennedy fired quickly, unscrewing the oxygen helmet as he went. In the deserted living room we deposited our senseless burden, while Kennedy, the helmet off now, bent over her. Quick, quick, he cried to the officer in ambulance. But the prisoner, the policeman indicated, hurry, hurry, I'll take care of him, urge Craig, seizing the policeman's pistol and thrusting it into his pocket. Walter, help me. He was trying the ordinary methods of resuscitation. Meanwhile, the officer had hurried out, seeking the nearest telephone, while we worked madly to bring Elon back. Again and again, Kennedy bent and outstretched her arms, trying to induce respiration. So busy was I that for the moment I forgot our prisoner. But Dan had seen his chance. Noiselessly he picked up the old chair in the room and with it raised was approaching Kennedy to knock him out. Before I knew it myself, Kennedy had heard him. With a half-instinctive motion he drew the revolver from his pocket and almost before I could see it had shot the man. Without a word he returned the gun to his pocket and again bent over Elon, without so much as a look at the crook who sunk to the floor, dropping the chair from his nervous hands. Already the policeman had got an ambulance, which was now tearing along to us. Frantically Kennedy was working. A moment he paused and looked at me hopeless. Just then outside we could hear the ambulance and a doctor and two attendants hurried up to the door. Without a word the doctor seemed to appreciate the gravity of the case. He finished his examination and shook his head. There is no hope, no hope, he said slowly. Kennedy merely stared at him, but the rest of us instinctively removed our hats. Kennedy gazed at Elon overcome. Was this the end? It was not many minutes later that Kennedy had Elon in the little sitting room of the laboratory, having taken her there in the ambulance with the doctor and two attendants. Elon's body had been placed on a couch covered by a blanket and the shades were drawn. The light fell on her pale face. There was something incongruous about death and the vast collection of scientific apparatus, a ghastly mocking of humanity. How futile was it all in the presence of the great destroyer. Aunt Josephine had arrived, stunned, and a moment later, Perry Bennett. As I looked at the sorrowful party, Aunt Josephine rose slowly from her position on her knees, where she had been weeping silently beside Elon and pressed her hands over her eyes with every indication of faintness. Before any of us could do anything, she had staggered into the laboratory itself. Bennett and I followed quickly. There I was busy for some time getting restoratives. Meanwhile, Kennedy, beside the couch, with an air of desperate determination, turned away and opened the cabinet. He took a large coil and attached it to a storage battery, dragging the peculiar apparatus near Elon's couch. To an electric light socket, Craig attached wires. The doctor watched him in silent wonder. Doctor, he asked slowly as he worked, Do you know of Professor Ludwig of the Nontay Ecole de Medicine? Why, yes, answered the doctor. But what of him? Then you know of his method of electrical resuscitation. Yes, but he paused, looking apprehensively at Kennedy. Craig paid no attention to his fears, but approaching the couch on which Elon lay, applied the electrodes. You see, he explained, with force calmness, I applied the anode here, the cathode there. The ambulance surgeon looked on excitedly, as Craig turned on the current, applying it to the back of the neck and to the spine. For some minutes the machine worked, then the young doctor's eyes began to bulge. My heavens, he cried under his breath, Look! Elon's chest had slowly risen and fallen. Kennedy, his attention riveted on his work, applied himself with redoubled efforts. The young doctor looked on with increased wonder. Look! The colour in her face. See her lips? He cried. At last her eyes slowly fluttered open, then closed. Would the machine succeed, or was it just the galvanic effect of the current? The doctor noticed it and quickly placed his ear to her heart. His face was a study in astonishment. The minutes sped fast. To us outside, who had no idea what was transpiring in the other room, the minutes were led and seated. Aunt Josephine, weak but now herself again, was sitting nervously. Just then the door opened. I shall never forget the look on the young ambulance's surgeon's face, as he murmured under his breath. Come here! The age of miracles is not past. Look! Raising his finger to indicate that we were to make no noise, he led us into the other room. Kennedy was bending over the couch. Elaine, her eyes open now, was gazing up at him, and a wane smile fitted over her beautiful face. Kennedy had taken her hand and as he heard a centre turned half way to us while we stared in blank wonder from Elaine to the weird and complicated electrical apparatus. It is the life current, he said simply, patting the ludic apparatus with his other hand.