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Adrift in the Unknown; or, Queer Adventures in a Queer Realm

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Title: Adrift in the Unknown; or, Queer Adventures in a Queer Realm

Creator: William Wallace Cook


        
Release date: December 10, 2013 [eBook #44404]

Language: English

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Credits: Produced by Al Haines


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ADRIFT IN THE UNKNOWN; OR, QUEER ADVENTURES IN A QUEER REALM ***




Produced by Al Haines.




                         Adrift in the Unknown

                                  OR,

                   Queer Adventures in a Queer Realm


                        By WILLIAM WALLACE COOK

        Author of "The Paymaster's Special," "A Deep-sea Game,"
               "In the Web," "His Friend the Enemy," etc.



                       STREET & SMITH CORPORATION
                               PUBLISHERS
                     79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York




                         *A CARNIVAL OF ACTION*

                          *ADVENTURE LIBRARY*

                  *Splendid, Interesting, Big Stories*

For the present the Adventure Library will be devoted to the publication
of stories by William Wallace Cook.

The fact that one man wrote all of these stories in no way detracts from
their interest, as they are all very different in plot and locality.

For example, the action in one story takes place in "The Land of Little
Rain;" another deals with adventure on the high seas; another is a good
railroad story; others are splendid Western stories; and some are
mystery stories.  All of them, however, are stories of vigorous
adventure drawn true to life, which gives them the thrill that all
really good fiction should have.




                          Copyright 1904-1906
                         By Frank A. Munsey Co.

                         Adrift in the Unknown


               (Printed In the United States of America)




                               *CONTENTS*

      I. Lost, Strayed, or Stolen?
     II. An Uninvited Guest
    III. Professor Quinn's Feat
     IV. The Plutocrats Reconciled
      V. Traveling Sunward
     VI. A Landing Effected
    VII. Facing a Mercurial Storm
   VIII. The Mercurials
     IX. Learning the Word-Box
      X. How We were Catalogued
     XI. The Dilemma of Mr. Meigs
    XII. Condemned to Death
   XIII. A Threatening Calamity
    XIV. Plan to Steal a Building
     XV. Surveying our own Planet
    XVI. How Ill-Luck Overtook Me
   XVII. A Change of Heart
  XVIII. How We Outwitted the King
    XIX. Back to Earth




                        *ADRIFT IN THE UNKNOWN.*



                              *CHAPTER I.*

                      *LOST, STRAYED, OR STOLEN?*


There could be no more fitting introduction to this most amazing
narrative from the pen of James Peter Munn than that article in the
_Morning Mercury_.

Munn, it is no breach of confidence to inform the reader, was a reformed
burglar; although the author of two books which achieved large sales and
were most favorably received by the reviewers--"Forty Ways of Cracking
Safes" and "The Sandbagger's Manual"--Mr. Munn developed small skill
with the pen, so that the breathless interest aroused by his revelations
hangs more upon the matter than the style.  The _Mercury_ article should
do its mite toward preparing the reader for what is to come.

In the first place, the story was what newspaper men call a "scoop."

The article in the first edition ran as follows:


                        QUINN'S CASTLE VANISHES.

    AND SO DOES QUINN!  WITH HOUSE AND BELONGINGS.  THE HARLEM SAGE
    DISAPPEARS IN A SINGLE HOUR.  LEAVING NOT A TRACE BEHIND.

    What happened to Professor Quinn last night?  And what happened
    to the strange steel structure known locally among Harlem
    residents as Quinn's Castle?

    For Quinn and his castle were snuffed out like a candle-gleam
    some time between the hours of eleven o'clock and midnight.
    Patrolman Casey, who travels a beat in that part of Harlem,
    avers that he passed the castle at eleven o'clock, and that it
    was there; he passed its site again at twelve, and it was not
    there.

    Considerably exercised, Patrolman Casey made search for the
    castle, and although he beat up the country for a dozen blocks
    in all directions, he failed to find it.  And what is more,
    Patrolman Casey declares that he took the pledge when he went on
    the force and has been a total abstainer ever since.

    Corroboration of the officer's report is not lacking. Certain
    residents of the vicinity state that they saw the professor's
    weird dwelling yesterday evening; its windows were aglow and it
    appeared evident that the professor was entertaining friends.
    The first gray dawn this morning showed a bare lot with the
    steel house missing.

    Is it another case of Aladdin's palace dissolving into thin air
    at the "presto!" of some wonder worker?  Or is it a plain case
    of larceny undertaken on a gigantic scale?  A golden opportunity
    offers itself to a sleuth of the Sherlock Holmes school; and for
    such a person the _Mercury_ presents the following facts:

    First, the so-called castle was projectile-shaped, of
    boiler-plate construction, and measured some twenty feet in
    diameter, tapering to a point thirty feet above ground. It was
    covered with a sort of paint that gave it the appearance of
    frosted silver.

    Second, there is much low shrubbery surrounding the site of the
    castle, and if the castle had been blown down and rolled from
    the ridge it stood on into the river there would have been left
    evidences in plenty of such disaster.

    (Note: The castle certainly weighed five tons, possibly five
    times that.  Nothing short of a cyclone could have budged it,
    and there was hardly a breath of air stirring the whole night
    long.)

    Third, Professor Quinn, ever since he erected his steel house
    and moved into it, has been regarded as mildly insane.  Like
    Abou-ben-Adhem, he desired to be entered on the angelic scroll
    as one who loved his fellow-men.

    Last summer he read before the Astronomical Society a paper
    entitled "The Mutability of Newtonian Law," and was laughed out
    of that honorable body for his inconsistencies.  Although
    adverted to as "The Harlem Sage," Professor Quinn is no Merlin,
    nor does he possess the ring of Gyges that rendered its wearer
    invisible.

    Yet where is he?  And where is his castle?  Until some Vidocq
    appears and solves the mystery, echo can only answer "Where?"


So much for the article in the first printing of the paper.  The bright
young man who stood sponsor for the "scoop" had meanwhile been very busy
with fresh details, and the second edition contained the following
addenda:

    It has just been learned that Mr. Emmet Gilhooly, the
    multimillionaire and president of the railroad combine, was a
    guest of Professor Quinn last night, and must have been in the
    castle at the very moment it faded into oblivion.

    Mr. Gilhooly did not return to his home and has not since been
    heard from.  His relatives are distracted and leading railroad
    men of the country are in a panic.

    His absence from affairs at the present moment jeopardizes the
    traction interests of the entire country, and may prove a
    deathblow to the success of the gigantic pool he was forming.


This was startling news indeed, and sped hither and yon throughout the
city, the country, and the civilized world.  Appalling as the
information was, nevertheless it proved merely a fractional part of the
truth.

The bright reporter on the _Mercury_ made further discoveries, which
were printed in the third edition rushed from the presses of his paper.

    Not only was Mr. Emmet Gilhooly a guest of Professor Quinn in
    the steel castle last night, but so also were Hon. Augustus
    Popham, the coal baron; J. Archibald Meigs, of Wall Street, late
    manipulator of the corner in wheat and now engineering a corner
    in cotton, and Hannibal Markham, well known as the instigator of
    a plot to control the food supply of the United States.

    What has become of these four millionaires and Napoleons of
    finance?  They have gone with Quinn and his castle, disappearing
    as utterly as though the earth had opened and swallowed them.


Fabulous rewards were offered by the relatives of the missing
millionaires for any information relative to the fate that had overtaken
them.  Foul play was suspected, and the financial world stood aghast and
dumbly wondered what was to happen to the business of the country if it
really developed, beyond all peradventure, that Gilhooly, Popham, Meigs,
and Markham had been eliminated from commercial affairs.

The influence of these four was vast and far-reaching, and they were
scheming to make their grip on the republic's resources even more secure
and relentless.  If their plans carried, no man could eat, or clothe
himself, or warm his body and drive his manufacturing engines, or travel
from place to place and ship the product of his mills without paying
tribute to Gilhooly, Popham, Meigs, and Markham.  Should those schemes,
titanic in conception, be worked out to their manifest conclusion, four
men would hold the destiny of industrial America in the hollow of their
hands.  Prosperity would wait upon their pleasure, or at a mere nod
would be paralyzed and leave the country stranded on the reefs of
disaster.

It seemed an odd fatality that, at the very time these
commanders-in-chief of industry were plotting to make their power
complete, they should have vanished as utterly as though they had been
engulfed by a tidal wave and swept into the broad regions of the
Atlantic.  A few facts were brought to light through the probing of
skilled detective minds, but these facts were in nowise clues to the
fate that had overtaken the millionaires.

Popham's confidential aide reluctantly admitted that his chief had
accepted an invitation from Quinn, and had gone to his "castle" for an
interview.  Quinn professed to have made some discovery or other which,
he declared, would make coal a useless commodity so far as human needs
were concerned.  Popham, while laughing at Quinn's pretensions, was
nevertheless secretly worried.  Anything that threatened the success of
the coup which was being engineered by himself and his three confreres
was to be dealt with decisively and without loss of time.

In the case of Meigs, Markham, and Gilhooly there was no confidential
aide to offer testimony, for these bright, particular stars of high
finance had placed a limit on the confidence reposed in their
secretaries.  Nevertheless, the probing minds at work on the case
developed the extraordinary fact that these men, no less than Popham,
had visited Quinn at the latter's request.  A spirit of scoffing
investigation animated them, but they were prepared to see with their
own eyes and hear with their own ears whatever Quinn had to show and to
say.  If anything that militated against their projected _coup_ was
brought before them, they would proceed to lay the spectre forthwith.

Strangely enough, the shrewdest of the detectives failed to connect the
disappearance of the millionaires with the comprehensive plans they were
forming, and which could not be carried out except by the plotters in
person.

Other rich men of the country, who were wont to trim their sails in
accordance with whatever wind blew from the offices of The Four, in Wall
Street, were already shifting affairs to lay a course that would give
them the best headway against the projected new order.  This sudden
disappearance of the powers to which the lesser rich looked for guidance
left them becalmed in an uncharted sea.

The middle class, long accustomed to being mulcted right and left,
accepted the astonishing situation with equanimity.  So far as they were
concerned, Gilhooly, Popham, Meigs, and Markham were abstract
generalities--merely names to conjure with.  For years the middle class
had paid for the conjuring, and had been taught to look calmly into the
eyes of what they had come to believe was the inevitable.  If their
annual outing to the seashore or the mountains cost too much, they could
stay at home; if the butcher, the baker, and the grocer ran prices too
high, some of the luxuries could be cut out; if anthracite went to $20 a
ton, they would heat fewer rooms; and if clothing became too expensive,
there would be fewer suits and gowns to wear. By a little self-denial,
the middle class also could trim their sails to any gale that blew.
They were used to it.

With the poor it was different.  They were already down to bed-rock in
the way of self-denial.  No sooner had it drifted through their brains
that the influence of Gilhooly, Popham, Meigs, and Markham had been
blotted out than they lifted their voices in praise of the blessed
event.  Their situation had been bad enough, and any change among the
vaguely understood causes presiding over their affairs could hardly be
for the worse.

The detectives, feeling that they were at work on a particularly complex
case, hampered themselves by looking for complex causes.  At first, they
believed it was a matter of sequestration and that presently a ransom in
seven or eight figures would be called for.  However, a delving into
Quinn's past failed to reveal any lawless actions that would point to a
ransom in his present line of endeavor.  The detectives, growing more
complex as the ambiguities closed them in, overlooked entirely the
simplicity of Quinn's character.

Anyhow, one analytical mind would demand of another, what had Quinn's
intentions to do with the disappearance?  That was a positive reality.
And, although it was surmised, it was not definitely known that Quinn
himself had had anything to do with it.

Such was the situation confronting the country and with which the police
department of New York City was called upon to deal.  But the keenest
reasoning, inductive or deductive, was powerless to find even a clue.

The tremendous mystery might have remained a mystery until this day, had
it not been for the narrative of James Peter Munn, now for the first
time given to the world.




                             *CHAPTER II.*

                         *AN UNINVITED GUEST.*


I used to be one of those who claimed that the world owed him a living,
and I went out with a drill and a "jimmy" to collect it.

Where was the difference, I argued, between the man who cracks your
strong box and removes a few paltry bills or coins, and the nabob who
skulks behind a "trust" and takes his tax on the necessities of life?

This was pure sophistry, of course, but I became wedded to it in early
life, and that I escaped a suit of stripes and measurement on the
Bertillon system, is due entirely to my experiences with Professor
Quinn.

'Twas a blessed night that sent me to his castle with the view of
mulcting it of treasures I felt to be there.  Quinn was a queer one.  I
do not mean to say that he was unhinged, as some thought, but he was
queer in his outlook upon life, and in resources which fall under the
head of "ways and means."

His castle claimed my professional attention. For why should a man build
a big steel vault and live in it unless he had portable property worth a
burglar's while?  I reconnoitered the place for a week before I
considered myself possessed of sufficient knowledge for my undertaking.
In view of what transpired at the time of my visit, a brief description
of the castle, taken from my memorandum book, will prove of interest.

The structure was cigar-shaped, twenty-nine feet from base to apex and
twenty feet in diameter through its largest part.  It was divided into
two stories by means of a steel floor, leaving head-room of ten feet in
the lower story.

Four windows pierced the circular walls of the nether room, and two gave
light to the room above; these six openings being guarded on the outer
sides with latticework of steel.

The door was an oblong piece of boiler plate--the entire building was a
shell composed of plates riveted together--hinged heavily and provided
with a strong lock.  As I had yet to find a lock which I could not pick,
if given time enough, my designs naturally centred about the door.

I had hit upon the somewhat early hour of ten in the evening for my call
at the professor's. Unless business kept him abroad I knew that he was
usually in bed long before that time.  If he chanced to be out, so much
the better for the success of my foray.

After the patrolman had passed, I crept through the bushes and was soon
busy with the lock on the steel door.  It yielded with much less
resistance than I had anticipated, and I was quickly within, flashing my
bull's-eye lantern about me.

A circular seat upholstered in leather ran around the wall, and a table
bearing an unlighted oil lamp stood in the centre of the floor.  I had
barely completed a hasty survey when a crunch of footsteps on the
graveled walk without smote on my ears.

Without loss of a moment I snapped the lantern shut and darted up the
iron stairway to the room above.  It is needless to say that I was very
much put out because of the interruption.  I was a hard man in those
days, and such an occurrence was apt to anger me and make me say things.

Lying flat on the floor with my face to the stair opening, I had a
fairly good view of the circular chamber below.  The professor had been
abroad and not in bed, for he appeared now, ushering in callers.

Four gentlemen, all of distinguished mien and important bearing,
followed the owner of the castle, and began glancing about with
ill-concealed amusement.

"Gad, but this is an odd place!" exclaimed one.

This gentleman wore a frock coat and silk hat, but what caught my eye
was a four-carat spark in his scarf, a massive seal on his fob, and a
scintillating gem on the third finger of his left hand.

"Odd, perhaps," returned the professor, "but most suitable to my
purposes, Mr. Gilhooly, as I hope to show you before many minutes have
passed.  Be seated, sir.  And the rest of you gentlemen; you will find
the divan most comfortable."

Gilhooly?  I went hot and cold at that name. Nearly everybody in New
York was just then talking about the man who was scheming to make
railroad travel too expensive for ordinary mortals.  He was a
millionaire several times over, and in the breast of his frock coat I
knew there must be a bulky wallet.

At once, and while I watched and listened to those in the room below, my
mind busied itself with details of a more comprehensive operation than I
had at first contemplated.

The professor's four guests had seated themselves on the circular divan.
After my eyes had finished with Gilhooly they turned on the other three,
and my first impressions were more than confirmed.

Each of the quartet was a Croesus, and dressed and strutted the part.
Fine birds, indeed, and I hugged myself to think how opportunity had
come knocking at my door.

Six-shooter in hand, I could descend upon this covey, compel a
readjustment of values between them and myself, then back through the
steel door, lock it behind me, and make off.

The professor, intent on other things no doubt, had turned his key in
the lock and had failed to discover that the bolt was already thrown;
therefore my presence in the castle was entirely unsuspected--manifestly
an advantage.

"You have asked us to come here, Professor Quinn," spoke up one as the
professor turned higher the wick of the lamp he had just lighted, "and
here we are.  You say you have discovered something whose value to
science and the industrial world is beyond compute, and that you wish to
interest capital.  Well"--and the speaker surveyed his three companions
with a large smile--"here is the capital."

"I shall come at my discovery in due course, Mr. Popham," said the
professor, who was a wiry little man with a bald head and bead-like
black eyes.  "I thank you for coming here. Emmet Gilhooly, Augustus
Popham, J. Archibald Meigs, and Hannibal Markham are stars of the first
magnitude in the skies of speculation, and I esteem myself fortunate in
arousing their interest."

A faintness seized me as these names, each an "open sesame" to the world
of finance, fell glibly from the professor's tongue.  I was all but
cheek by jowl with representatives of billions.

Augustus Popham turned his head to give Emmet Gilhooly a plebeian wink.
Gilhooly smiled behind his smooth white hand.  J. Archibald Meigs leaned
over to whisper something to Hannibal Markham, who was affixing a pair
of gold eyeglasses to his Roman nose, whereupon both gentlemen
suppressed a titter.

A doubt of the sincerity of all four broke over me.  They were there to
have sport with this bald little man with the beady eyes and the bee in
his bonnet.  I chuckled grimly as I thought of how the tables would
presently be turned.  I do not know whether the professor was as keen as
I to detect these evidences of insincerity.  If he was, he gave no sign.

"I am sixty-five," said he, "and my life work has been the discovery
which I am about to bring to your august attention.  Perhaps some of you
gentlemen have read my paper on 'The Mutability of Newtonian Law'?"

The gentlemen acknowledged that they had not.  Professor Quinn seemed
disappointed.

"If you had read that," he continued, "you would have prepared
yourselves for an understanding of my theory and the demonstration of it
which I am about to give.  Let me ask you this: When an apple leaves its
parent branch, why is it that it falls downward instead of upward?"

The Napoleons of finance stared at one another.  J. Archibald Meigs went
so far as to tap a suggestive finger against his forehead.

"Gravity," said the professor.  "It is that which draws every atom on
the surface of the earth directly toward the earth's centre; it is that
which chains our feet to this planet and keeps us from falling through
interstellar space; it is even that which keeps our little world from
flying apart and dissipating itself in dust throughout the great void.
It is a simple proposition simply stated, and I trust you follow me?"

They did follow him, and so signified.

"In the paper I read before the Astronomical Society," pursued the
professor, "I made bold to declare that it was possible to insulate a
body against the force of gravitation.  In other words, to make it so
immune from Newtonian law that it would spurn the earth and fall from it
at a speed even greater than the drawing power of gravity.

"Can you not comprehend what this means?" cried Quinn, waxing eloquent.
"It means a new force in the industrial world--a power that feeds on
nothing save a law that transcends that of gravitation.  In point of
fact, it falls little short of perpetual motion.

"Without the expenditure of even a pound of coal, this new force can
turn the wheels of every railroad train on the globe!  With its own
inherent energy it can give life to the machinery of flour mills, cotton
mills, iron foundries; it can----"

Augustus Popham got up hurriedly and put on his hat.

"A rattle-brained idea, sir!" he exclaimed.  "I have no mind to remain
here and listen to such talk."

Popham's coal mines ravaged the earth's crust in a thousand and one
places.  The idea that human industry could get along without his coal
was too much for him.

Before he could reach the door, Professor Quinn was in front of him,
barring his way.

"Remember, Mr. Popham," said the professor, "if I were to take away your
mines I should yet give you something in their place worth incalculably
more.  Hear me out, sir.  I beg of you."

"Theories are cheap things," muttered Popham, as he again seated
himself.  "An ounce of proof is worth a pound of theory."

"Exactly," cried Quinn, "and the ounce of proof shall be forthcoming."

With that he pulled the table from the centre of the room, revealing an
iron chain some three feet in length, attached at its lower end to a
staple in the floor by means of a clevis and pin.

The chain was not lying loosely, but was rigidly upright, its upper end
wound about a white block--a six-inch cube, as I judged.

Climbing to the table top, the professor stepped thence to the cube,
poising himself for a moment on one foot.  Then he sprang to the floor
again.

"This cube," he explained, laying one hand on the block with an
affectionate gesture, "is of steel, and has been treated with my
insulating compound.  To all appearance it is falling upward with a
force sufficient to draw the chain rigidly to its full extent and to
support my weight."

"Poppycock!" muttered the coal baron.

"A trick!" exclaimed Meigs.

The other two remained silent.  They were bewildered, perhaps impressed.

"Let us see whether it is a trick or no," went on Quinn.  "Pray come
forward, gentlemen, and lay hold of the chain.  There is no danger in
the little experiment with which I am going to amuse you, and I think it
will dispel your doubts."

The gentlemen hesitated, but finally came forward, got down with some
difficulty, and grasped the chain as directed.

"Hold tight!" exclaimed the professor, and drew the pin from the clevis.

Thus released the cube rose to the ceiling, lifting the four gentlemen
with it.  They hung in mid-air until Quinn drew the table under them,
and they dropped to its top, each in turn, and so reached the floor.

Bewilderment was written large in the faces of the quartet, their
credulity struggling against the evidence of their senses.

"You are a good magician, sir," averred Popham, brushing the damp from
his forehead with a handkerchief.

"You could make your fortune as an entertainer," declared Gilhooly.

J. Archibald Meigs chewed briskly on an unlighted cigar, while Hannibal
Markham kept his eyes on the cube and dangling chain like one
fascinated.

"It is the fate of a man who makes startling discoveries to be classed
among disciples in black art," observed Quinn calmly.  "What is the
hour, Mr. Gilhooly?" he asked.

The head of the railway pool consulted his repeater.

"Eleven-fourteen," he replied.

"And high time I was going," added Popham.

"Just a few moments more," said the professor.

Turning to the wall behind him, he caught a small lever and turned it
over as far as it would go.  The castle vibrated slightly, communicating
a perceptible swaying motion to the pendent chain.

"What's this?" cried Markham, jumping up.

"Do not be alarmed, my friends," cried Quinn, whirling around.

His face was pallid as death, and his beady eyes gleamed like coals.
Then, wonder of wonders, the white cube settled to the floor.

"Ha!" shouted Popham.  "Your anti-gravity compound is not very long
lived, it seems to me."

"You will find differently, to your cost!" returned the professor
through his teeth. "Augustus Popham, I, Kenward Quinn, arraign you, and
Emmet Gilhooly, and J. Archibald Meigs, and Hannibal Markham as foes of
the human race!  You are leeches who would suck the life-blood from the
veins of the poor----"

With steady forefinger, Quinn had transfixed each of the plutocrats as
he called his name. Markham was already on his feet, and the other three
were not slow in following him.

"What's this, what's this?" gasped Gilhooly.

"An insult!" muttered Popham.

"The old addle-pate is not accountable for what he says or does,"
remarked J. Archibald Meigs.

"We had best leave this steel trap of his while there is yet time,"
counseled Markham.

"While there is yet time!" repeated Quinn, with a wild laugh.  "A pretty
set of conspirators you are, on my soul!  Markham, there, would raise
the price of food until the poor would go hungry; you, Meigs, would so
manipulate the cost of clothing that they would not have the wherewithal
to cover their nakedness; Popham would make fuel a luxury of the rich;
and Gilhooly would so boost passenger and freight rates as to quadruple
to the consumer the tremendous cost of the necessities of life.  Deny me
if you can, if you dare!"

Quinn looked like a Nemesis as he confronted the four men and lashed
them with his scorpion whip of words.

"Fiddlededee!" exclaimed Popham.

"We deserve it," said Meigs, "for it was the height of folly for us to
come here, in the first place."

"Is this why you brought us here?" asked Markham, "to air your own
particular ideas on sociology and to make us the victims of your abuse?"

The professor threw back his head and straightened his shoulders.  It
was the real thing in dignity that he showed those plutocrats, and my
nerves tingled with admiration.  I was sorry I had come to the castle
with designs oh Quinn's portable property, and doubly glad that I could
force tribute from these four who were badgering him.

"I am not unjust," averred the professor, "and such a thing as abuse is
farthest from my mind; but I love the plain people, the bone and sinew
of this glorious republic, and it arouses my indignation when the right
to live and let live is trampled upon by any one man, or set of men."

"Platitudes!" sneered Popham.

"To call a truth a platitude is witless argument," answered Quinn
serenely.

"Be that as it may," said Meigs, "we were not invited here for a debate
but to witness a demonstration of what you were pleased to term a
revolutionizing discovery."

"You have seen me overcome the force of gravity," went on the professor,
"and to astute minds like yours further explanation seems uncalled for.
In destroying gravity I produce a power equalled by no other force in
the world. The 'pull' of an insulated block the size of that one"--and
here he waved his hand toward the cube--"is equal to the strength of a
hundred horses.  Develop that 'pull' horizontally instead of vertically,
and we have a locomotive that runs continuously without the consumption
of a pound of coal.  That," cried the professor, his voice ringing with
triumph, "is the apotheosis of power!"

Gilhooly, judging from his manner, was the victim of uncomfortable
thoughts; Meigs wore a startled look, and Markham seemed half convinced.
Popham, alone, was brusque and uncompromising.

"I think we had better get out of here," again suggested Markham.  His
half convictions appeared to arouse some small amount of apprehension.

"I'm of the same opinion," spoke up Meigs.

"Wait a little," suggested Popham, and I saw a gleam in his eyes that
meant a stroke of some kind.  Once more he faced Quinn.  "I have no
patience with your harebrained theories," he went on, "and I have seen
charlatans work greater wonders than what you are pleased to call your
'demonstration.'  But it is a business principle of mine to buy up these
promising theories if they happen to run counter to any pet scheme I am
trying to put through.  Sir, rather than be annoyed further with this
chimerical idea of yours, I will pay five thousand dollars, spot cash,
just to have you give over your notions and quit experimenting."

Professor Quinn laughed.

"Five thousand dollars!" he exclaimed; then added, as though to himself,
"He would have me sell the welfare and happiness of the people for five
thousand dollars!"

"I will add another five thousand to Popham's offer."  put in Gilhooly,
"not because I am afraid your discoveries will upset the transportation
interests of the country, but simply to clear the commercial atmosphere
and keep your visionary ideas from affecting the price of stocks."

"Let me add another five thousand," said Meigs.  "I don't see how your
invention, even if it is all you claim for it, could affect me or my
interests one way or the other, but I will add my contribution simply
because Popham has taken the initiative."

"Count me in for the same amount," supplemented Markham, "on the
condition that Professor Quinn signs over to the four of us all his
right, title and interest in his non-gravity invention, and covenants to
leave that field entirely alone in future."

Quinn seemed to enjoy these propositions, and it was apparent at a
glance that he had no intention of accepting twenty thousand dollars and
renouncing his discoveries.

"Gentlemen," said he, "you are already half convinced that I am no
dreamer, for you are financiers, and, while twenty thousand dollars is
no more to you than twenty cents is to me, it is not your habit to give
your money away.  I repeat that you are inclined to have faith in me,
and before many minutes I shall have made your belief in my abilities
complete."

"Am I to understand that you decline our offer?" demanded Popham.

"Most decidedly!"

"Then there is nothing more to be said.  Come on, gentlemen," and Popham
started toward the door.

"A moment more, if you please," requested the professor.

"Not another second!" cried Popham.  "Our offer is withdrawn; and, if
your so-called discoveries amount to anything, we shall find other means
for making them ineffective."

I had been interested in proceedings to an extent that had all but
caused me to forget my purpose.  The plutocrats were about to leave the
castle in a temper, and if I wrested tribute from them it must be now or
never.

Starting up, I drew my revolver and ran hastily down the iron stairs.




                             *CHAPTER III.*

                       *PROFESSOR QUINN'S FEAT.*


My unexpected advent upon the scene proved as startling as I had
anticipated.  Even the professor was dashed.

Stepping in front of the steel door, I toyed menacingly with the
revolver and surveyed the plutocrats with a grim humor I made no attempt
to conceal.

At that period of my life, inspired by the sophistry to which I have
already adverted, I was a cool and dangerous man.

"Pardon me for entering unannounced," said I blindly.  "You have
listened to Professor Quinn's theory and witnessed its demonstration. I
am but an humble philosopher, yet I have a theory of my own which I
should also like to expound and to demonstrate."

"Who are you, sir?" demanded Quinn.

"I am a bird of like feather with these, your guests," said I
facetiously, "albeit my methods are more direct if less extensive.  My
name is James Peter Munn; my specialty is robbery of the out-and-out
variety, for I have the courage of my convictions, and do not hide
behind a technicality.

"I do not wish to intrude my presence here longer than necessary to
accomplish my designs, and if these amiable gentlemen will aid me"--I
indicated the amiable gentlemen with my revolver point--"I will take my
departure quietly from the castle.  But"--and here I scowled
blackly--"some trust or other will be minus its guiding power in case
any resistance is attempted."

The threat was sufficient, and the usual sunny smile returned to my face
as I added:

"Mr. Gilhooly will advance to the table, spread his handkerchief upon
it, and lay thereon his watch and fob, the ring on his finger, the
kohinoor in his tie, and the wallet in the breast of his coat.  It is my
theory that one thief has the right to take from another property that
does not belong to either of them.  It is Mr. Gilhooly's privilege to
give the first demonstration."

Fidelity to truth forces me to chronicle the above speech.  The _eclat_
with which I made it is far from me now as I pen it verbatim.

There are speeches in life which we could wish unsaid, and this one of
mine I would give much to consign to the limbo of things unspoken.
Reformation has worked wonders in me since that evil time.

I will say for Mr. Gilhooly that he was alacrity itself in carrying out
my command.  His hands trembled a little as he placed his belongings on
the handkerchief and knotted the four corners over the plunder as I
requested.

The professor, smiling strangely, sank down on the divan and watched
proceedings with twinkling eyes.  His manner filled me with a foreboding
I tried not to manifest.

"Evidently this amuses you!" cried Gilhooly, in anger, his snapping eyes
on the professor.

"Your inference is correct, Mr. Gilhooly," answered Quinn.  "I am
profoundly amused.  It is all so unexpected, so dramatic, and
so--useless."

"By gad, sir," cried Popham, "I see more in this than a desire on your
part to interest capital in a fake discovery.  There is a plot here,
gentlemen," and he turned to the other three.  "Our folly in allowing
ourselves to be lured to this place was stupendous.  I make no doubt but
that there is a plot here between this man Quinn and this thief.  Quinn
gets us in the thief's power, and the thief does the rest."

"A pretty scheme!" snapped Meigs.

"Clever, very clever," put in Markham.

"And successful, too," growled Gilhooly with a regretful look at the
plunder on the table.  "But there will be a reckoning.  When we are once
clear of this place we can set the police at work."

I was surprised at the way Quinn took this talk.  He continued to smile
and was in no way ruffled.

"You're wrong there," cried I, hot and indignant.  "Professor Quinn had
nothing to do with my being here.  I've had my eye on this castle for a
long while, and I let myself in, just before you came, hoping to make a
haul and get clear. You interrupted me, and I stowed myself away
upstairs.  From what I saw and heard, I must say that it is a pleasure
for me to turn my back on Professor Quinn's property and to give my
entire attention to you four."

"Mr. Munn," said Quinn, "how long have you been engaged in this
business?"

"For some years now, sir," I answered.

"You were honest--once?"

"Every man is born honest, if it comes to that. I used to work in an
iron foundry, but the works were taken over by a combination and a lot
of us were thrown out of employment.  There was nothing for me to do but
beg--and I'm above that.  This came handiest, and I went into it. I like
the business.  Matching one's wits against the law keeps one constantly
in the midst of alarms, so to speak, and I like excitement.  And I have
ability, for never yet have I worn the stripes or learned the lock-step.
I have written some on the subject of my vocation, in the hope of
beguiling others into the work."

"A dangerous man!" muttered Gilhooly.

"What are we coming to?" clamored Popham. "Here is a thief who is
actually proud of his profession, and who actually writes books about
it!"

"Merciful heavens!" gasped Meigs, in horror. "I feel sorry for my
country when it produces such men."

"We--we are tottering on the verge of chaos!" added Markham, in a stage
whisper.

I laughed at all this, for I enjoyed it hugely.

"Spare yourselves any needless worry about me, gentlemen," said I.
"Look to home, and you will probably find enough there to fret your
consciences."

Professor Quinn continued to take pleasure out of the queer situation.

"I can honor a man like Munn," said he, "where I am tempted to despise
men like you, Gilhooly, Meigs, Markham, and Popham.  As Munn said, he
has the courage of his convictions. He does not take from the poor, for
in the very nature of things he cannot.  His loot comes from those who
are able to lose it, while you are vampires, and sapping the very
lifeblood of the nation.  You are all criminally deluded, although,
perhaps, doing what you conscientiously believe to be exactly right.
Would to Heaven," and here the professor grew suddenly sincere and
intensely earnest, "that something would conspire to open your eyes to
the exact truth.  But I have despaired of that, and I am trying, in my
own feeble way, to meet the present emergency."

"You are either a fool or a madman!" cried Popham.

"A rattle-brained zealot!" chimed in Meigs.

"You are the one who should see things differently," said Markham.  "You
preach a doctrine which you fail to apply personally."

"Enough of this talk, gentlemen," I interposed. "My situation is
precarious and I must ask you to hurry a little."

"Sir," shouted Popham, leveling a forefinger at me, "I shall see you
properly jailed for this. Why, you miserable footpad, I can----"

"Save your breath," I interrupted tartly, meeting his forefinger with
the muzzle of the pepper box.  "Lead is no respecter of persons.  One of
you has called me a dangerous man.  I am all of that, and desperate.
Mr. Popham, you saw how Mr. Gilhooly carried out my orders.  You will
proceed in the same manner, and without further loss of time.  In five
minutes I must be out of here."

He started to argue the point with me, and I allowed my forefinger to
flex, ever so slightly, upon the trigger.

That was enough.  A man values his life in a direct ratio with what he
considers his importance; therefore, the esteem in which these four
millionaires held themselves must have been overwhelming.

The Honorable Augustus Popham finally yielded up his personal property
with the same readiness that had characterized his friend. Hannibal
Markham followed him, and after Markham came J. Archibald Meigs.

I had a pleasant word for each as I marshaled the four bundles, strung
them on the fingers of my left hand and backed toward the door, which
was a few paces behind me.

"When a good general beats a retreat," said I, preparing to pull open
the door and let myself out, "he places as many obstacles in the path of
the pursuing force as possible.  When I leave, therefore, I shall lock
this door on the outside."

I was watched by the plutocrats in philosophical silence; by the
professor, with a geniality that nothing seemed able to shake.

I had spared Quinn because he was a friend of the poor, as I had
discovered.  And I had been poor myself some fifteen minutes back.

"Good-by," said I airily.

"_Au revoir_," answered the professor.  "Look well where you step."

I threw open the door with a laugh.  The laugh faded into a shout of
terror.

I threw out my hands, revolver and packets of loot falling through the
door, and I only barely saving myself with one foot over the threshold.

The horror that gripped me then is such a horror as comes to a man but
once in a lifetime. My brain sickened and chilled, my heart all but
stopped its beating, and my limbs grew rigid.

In the black of the fearsome night--not the atmospheric blue-black I had
been accustomed to, but the ebony dark of Erebus--I saw a wild greenish
star below, a huge disk whose gleaming nimbus danced on my sight in
quivering lines.

Half crazed, I flung back into the room and fell groveling to the floor,
my ears echoing with the professor's merriment and the startled
exclamations of the four men I had robbed--all to no purpose.

Presently I sat up, rubbing forehead and eyes.

The professor stood in the open door, gloating over the vista below.

"Come!" he called, beckoning to the huddled quartet at the other side of
the room.  "Come, Gilhooly, Meigs, Popham, and Markham--come, look down
upon the scene of your feverish activities.  You were plutocrats there,
more powerful than kings!  Here you are no more than shoulder high with
me, and yon muddled thief on the floor!  You have been snatched from the
scene of your pernicious labors--exiled into planetary space where you
will be powerless to work further evil.  I have not lived in vain; for
this, this is the triumph of my career."

Slowly Meigs disentangled himself from the mute group by the opposite
wall and crept on all fours to the threshold that overlooked the void
and the greenish star.

He recoiled with a yell; then, maddened by what he had seen, he leaped
erect and tried to hurl himself out into space.

"Fool!" cried the professor, laying hold of him and struggling to keep
him back.  "Would you become a satellite of this twenty-by-thirty
planet?  We are beyond the atmosphere of the earth--look!  See the four
packets of loot and the thief's revolver."

He pointed through the door and the bulging handkerchiefs and my
six-shooter were abreast of us, hanging in space, turning slowly,
weirdly--a sight to upset the strongest mind.

Gilhooly jumped forward, gave vent to a maniacal laugh, then crumpled
down on the floor.

"Bid up for the G.H.&D.," he mumbled, "bid to the limit!  I must have
that road--I _will_ have it."

"Brace up, Meigs!" said the professor sharply, pulling the key from the
outer side of the lock, slamming the door, fastening it, and putting the
key in his pocket.  "Take care of Gilhooly, man! His mind falters!
Heavens, are you all mad? Are your keen minds, unshaken in the
contemplation of vast deals for the enslavement of the poor, so quick to
break?  I had thought better of you than this!"

Meigs, white as the spotless linen that covered his breast, advanced
upon the professor.  He tried to speak, but without success.  At last,
with a supreme effort, the words came:

"Madman, what have you done?"

"That is better," returned the professor, smiling as he looked at Meigs
and noted how Markham and Popham ranged themselves at his side; "much
better.  You were engaged in plots back there on the earth, and the
success of those plots would have proved a great calamity.  I have saved
the world from the calamity!"

"Your--your castle has risen from the earth?" asked Meigs.

"It has fallen off the earth.  As you and I and the others happened to
be inside, we fell with it!"

Sudden rage convulsed Meigs.  He crouched downward, his eyes ablaze and
his fingers working convulsively.

"Scoundrel!" he screamed, and launched himself at the professor's throat
like a tiger.




                             *CHAPTER IV.*

                      *THE PLUTOCRATS RECONCILED.*


Looking back now at that dreadful hour when the realization of our awful
predicament burst upon us, I wonder that I preserved my own equilibrium.

The first shock came near to throwing me off my poise, but after that I
gained the whip hand of my wits by swift and sure degrees.

I verily believe the professor would have been strangled by Meigs, aided
and abetted by Popham and Markham, had I not rushed to his rescue.  I
had muscles of iron, and after I had caught Meigs by the nape of the
neck and thrown him backward, I planted myself between Quinn and his
foes.

"Leave the professor alone," said I.  "You men show mighty poor
judgment, it strikes me, in trying to lay violent hands on him."

"He deserves death," babbled Meigs.  "He had no business shooting us
into space in this summary manner."

Fear and anger had made Meigs childish.  He measured our dilemma in
terms so common a smile came to my lips.

"Judgment, poor judgment!" sniffed Popham. "Look at Gilhooly, and then
talk about poor judgment, if you can."

In truth, the railway magnate presented a sorry spectacle.  His clothing
was in wild disorder, his hair was rumpled about his head, and he was
hopping back and forth with two fingers in the air.

He was under the impression that he was dealing in railroad stocks,
completing the huge transaction that had made him the talk of two
continents.

"This professor ought to be flayed alive," declared Markham.  "Where are
we going, and when will we get there?"

"Now," said I.  "you are striking the keynote. Who knows where we are
going if the professor doesn't?  And who knows when we shall arrive
there if it is out of his power to tell?  We need the professor, for if
we are to be saved it will be his knowledge that does it."

"But what will my family think?" whimpered Meigs.  "And my business
interests!"

He threw up his hands and fell back in his seat with a groan.  Then
abruptly he straightened up again.

"This is a dream!  By gad, it must be!  The whole affair is too
outrageously unreal for any sane man to believe."

Gilhooly gave a maudlin chuckle.

"I was dead sure I'd get that last block of X.Y.&Z. stock!  That road is
the last span in my network of ties and rails.  Ha!  _Now_ we'll see!
_Now!_"

Meigs shivered.  Gilhooly's maunderings struck sharply at his desire to
coddle himself with a myth.

"It's awful to have Gilhooly like that," spoke up Augustus Popham.  "If
he had not been thrown out of balance, his wide knowledge of matters
relating to transportation might have proved of inestimable service to
us now."

Professor Quinn laughed.  It was an eerie laugh, and it shook me to hear
it.

"Oh, you!" cried Markham reproachfully, whirling on Quinn.  "After
causing this disaster and overthrowing as brilliant a mind as there ever
was in Wall Street, you have the heart to indulge in levity.  Look here:
how far are we from the earth at the present moment?"

"That is a difficult matter to estimate, even approximately," answered
Quinn calmly. "Ordinarily, gravity exerts a force that can be measured
definitely on the earth's surface.  A body falling freely from rest
acquires a velocity which is equal to the product of thirty-two and
one-fifth feet and the number of seconds during which the motion has
lasted.  What is the time now?"

Three gentlemen reached for their watches, failed to find them, and
turned hard looks on me. I appreciated their dilemma and drew from my
vest an open-face timepiece that was personal property and honestly come
by.

"It is twelve-fifteen," said I.

Quinn took a pencil and notebook from his pocket and did some figuring.

"We might be a little more than two miles from our native planet," said
he, "but----"

"Only two miles!" cried the three exiles in chorus.

"You can take us back, sir," said Popham, who had been pacing the floor
nervously.  "Shut off the power of this infernal machine and let us drop
back to where we belong.  Two miles is no great matter.  Your castle is
a slow freight compared with some of Gilhooly's express trains."

"I cannot take you back, sir," returned the professor, "and I would not
if I could.  You did not hear me out.  The law of velocity, recited for
your benefit a moment ago, does not measure the speed of this car."

"No?" murmured Markham.

"Decidedly not.  The earth sweeps along in its orbit at the rate of
eighteen miles to the second, while some aerolites and meteoroids attain
a speed of twenty and thirty miles to the second. In building this car,
I equipped it with an anti-gravity block geared up to fifty miles to the
second.  The lever on the wall"--and here Quinn turned and pointed to
it---"is thrown so as to give us the maximum."

"In other words," said Popham feebly, "we are sailing skyward at a rate
of--of three thousand miles per--per minute?"

"Presumably.  As we left my city lot in New York at about
eleven-fifteen, it follows that we have been one hour on the way."

"And should be one hundred and eighty thousand miles from home,"
faltered Meigs.

"About that," answered the professor calmly. "I do not know just how
much our progress was impeded by the atmospheric envelope of the earth,
but I think we may call our distance from the mother orb some one
hundred and eighty thousand miles, in round numbers."

These startling figures came near to unsettling the three gentlemen
again.  In that flight through space we were confronting immensities
well-nigh beyond our puny comprehension.  And the professor was not yet
done.

"In the storeroom overhead," he continued, "I have a supply of cubes and
insulating compound which I can combine and give tremendous added
velocity to the car."

"I am sure we are traveling fast enough," said Meigs, leaning back on
the divan hopelessly dejected.

"If you are now ready to listen to reason," proceeded Quinn.  "I will
tell you how Mr. Munn here saved your lives by rescuing me from your mad
attack."

"Our lives, forsooth!" exclaimed Markham bitterly.  "Of what value is
life to us, situated as we are?"

"That is one way to look at it, of course," rejoined Quinn caustically.
"But I did not exile you into planetary space for the purpose of wiping
you out of existence."

"You might as well have done so," said Popham severely.  "That is what
this harum-scarum plot of yours amounts to in the long run."

"You may not care to learn how I am preserving you at the present
moment," continued Quinn, "nor how I shall do so in the future, yet I
will tell you so that you may understand how much you owe to Mr. Munn's
foresight and courage."

I was beginning to entertain a high regard for Quinn in spite of what he
had done.  He may have been laboring under terrible delusions, but his
resource certainly commanded respect.

"To my forethought," he continued, "is due the fact that you are
breathing oxygen at this moment; and had I not invented a liquid which
fortifies animate or inanimate bodies against heat and cold, our rush
through the atmosphere of the earth would have incinerated this car and
its contents--nay, would have caused it to explode and settle back on
our native planet in impalpable powder."

These were things that none of us, aside from the professor, had so much
as taken thought of. My respect for him was growing into something like
awe, and I fancied I detected traces of the same sentiment in the other
three.

"There are roving bodies in space," Quinn went on, noting with apparent
satisfaction the interest he had aroused, "with which we might come into
collision.  I have a good telescope at the observatory window upstairs,
and while I cannot guide this car, I can at least increase or slacken
its speed so as to dodge any other derelict that may come into dangerous
proximity with us."

"Hadn't you better be up there on the look-out?" queried Markham in some
trepidation.

He was manifesting an interest in his personal safety that pleased the
professor.

"There is not much danger at present," returned Quinn.  "When we have
plunged farther into the interstellar void, it will be well to stand
watch and watch about at the telescope."

"Will it not be possible to land on some other planet, Mars, for
instance?" queried Popham with sudden hope.

"I should prefer Mars," added Meigs, reflecting the hope shown in his
friend's face.  "They have been signaling from Mars, and perhaps we can
find out what they want over there."

Quinn shook his head.

"We are in the hands of fate, gentlemen," said he.  "We may drop into
some port, but what that port will be is beyond my power even to
surmise."

"The moon isn't so far off," suggested Markham.

"Only two hundred and forty thousand miles," said Quinn.

"We should be there in less than two hours from the time of starting,"
remarked Meigs, after a mental bout with the figures.

"If I wished," said Quinn, "I could increase our speed; traveling at the
rate we are, however, something will have to be deducted for the
resistance of the earth's atmosphere.  If we drop on a planet it must be
a planet with an atmosphere.  The moon has none, and consequently is a
dead world.  Besides, fate might not throw us into its vicinity, or----"

"Just a minute, sir," interposed Markham, "for I am a man who likes to
understand thoroughly every situation with which he is called upon to
deal.  You invited us to your castle, not, I am constrained to believe,
to have us victimized by Munn, here, nor to have us invest in any of
your discoveries, but to snatch us away from the scene of our labors.
Is that correct, Professor Quinn?"

"Entirely so, Mr. Markham," replied Quinn.

"Evidently," proceeded Markham, "your plot has cost you some time and
labor.  You had first to find your gravity-resisting compound----"

"The plot followed as a result of my discovery," smiled the professor.
"I did not first evolve the plot and then go searching for means to get
you off the earth.  When I had made the discovery, it remained for me to
give it to the world--or to better the world by taking you four
gentlemen away from it.  Had I given the public the benefit, you shrewd
men of affairs might have devised means for setting it aside, or for
controlling it.  Not being a business man myself, I feared to take
chances.  For that reason the present enterprise appealed to me."

"You have planned so well in the smaller details that I wonder you
overlooked the main point."

"And that is----"

"What you are going to do with us, now that your plan has succeeded."

The professor tossed his hands deprecatingly as though that was really
the most insignificant part of his startling scheme.

"We can't go bobbing around through interstellar space," grumbled
Popham.  "I don't relish the idea of being cribbed, cabined and confined
in a steel room indefinitely.  I should go mad from the very thought."

"It's awful to contemplate," said Meigs, casting a melancholy glance
through the iron latticework at one of the windows.

The bags of loot were in that vicinity, at the moment, and his glance
swerved reproachfully to me.

"We shall make a landing, I have no doubt," said the professor
soothingly, "somehow and somewhere."

"By gad, sir," cried Popham, bringing his fist emphatically down on the
table, "I don't like such a hit-and-miss way of doing things.  Whenever
I set out to accomplish anything, the goal is always clear in my mind;
yet, here I am, through no desire of my own, afloat in the great void,
without a single aim or a remote prospect.  If we are going to land
anywhere--and you remain firm in your decision not to take us back to
our native planet--I demand that you make landfall on some orb that is
worth while."

"Very good, Popham," approved Meigs. "Unless I am greatly mistaken, that
was the very idea Markham had in mind when he began questioning the
professor.  Eh, Markham?"

"It was," replied Markham.  "A full knowledge of where we are going is
necessary to a thorough understanding of our--er--most remarkable
situation.  Now, there are worlds larger than the one we have recently
left. Personally, I am predisposed in favor of a large planet--one on
which there are traction interests, fuel supplies, and products of the
soil similar to those we have been accustomed to."

Under the spell of Markham's words, Popham began to glow and expand.
Meigs, all attention, pressed a little closer.

"The bigger the planet the bigger our field of operations!" cried
Popham.  "What's the matter with Jupiter?"

"Or Saturn?" echoed Meigs.

"Or Neptune?" put in Markham.

"What's the matter with the whole solar system?" inquired Quinn, with
gentle irony.  He turned to me.  "Observe, Mr. Munn, how extravagant are
the ideas inspired by monopoly! These gentlemen are hardly started on
their journey into space before they forget the business interests, the
friends and the environment they are leaving behind and begin planning
the commercial conquest of the stars!"  He shook his head forebodingly.
"Your regeneration," he added to the millionaires, "calls for a landing
on some barren world, some outcast of the solar system, where you will
have nothing to do but think over the evil of your past and learn
something of the duty you owe your fellow-men."

Popham, Markham, and Meigs were visibly annoyed by the professor's
remarks.  Withdrawing as far as the limits of the steel structure would
allow, they put their heads together and held a brief but animated
conversation in tones so low that the professor and I could not
overhear.

"Think of that, professor!" I muttered.  "And yet there are people who
find fault with a respectable burglar."

"Softly, Mr. Munn," returned Quinn.  "Before we are done with this
journey I am fain to believe that all of you will have a different
outlook upon life, and a higher regard for your duties of citizenship."

Just then, Popham turned from his friends and stepped toward the
professor.  His manner was truculent--probably just such a manner as he
was accustomed to use in facing a board of obstinate directors.

"If you will not return us to our native planet, Professor Quinn," said
he sharply, "then we shall stand upon our rights.  We are unalterably
opposed to landing upon any orb whose diameter measures less than----"

At that instant a most astounding thing happened.  The car ducked
sideways, throwing the whole structure out of plumb.

Loose articles began to drop from shelves and other places and to slide
across the floor to the lowest point.  By a quick movement I saved the
lamp and braced myself in an upright position.

Cries of terror went up from Markham, Meigs, and Popham.

"Where's Gilhooly?" shouted the professor.

He was answered by a wild yell from overhead.

"He's in the storeroom!" cried Quinn.  "Follow me with that lamp,
Munn--quick!"

The professor rushed for the stairway and I made after him with what
speed I could.




                              *CHAPTER V.*

                          *TRAVELING SUNWARD.*


There never lived a man, I suppose, who did not, at some time or other
in his career, submit his veracity to question.  A reformed burglar,
therefore, although animated by the most disinterested motives, can
scarcely hope to escape the shafts of the incredulous.

Although well-grounded in the science of cracksmanship, and with some
store of legal learning as to alibis and so forth, my mind was as empty
of astronomical lore as a drained bottle.  The professor's sayings were
jotted down in a sort of commonplace book at a later day when leisure
offered.

Memory may have played me false in some few minor points, but in all of
major importance this narrative is to be taken with the same sincerity
in which it is written.  I ask no more of the reader than that; and if
he is not averse to strolling through unfrequented ways touching elbows
with a man who has a past, we shall get along famously.

To return, then, to the steel car, and the obliquity it suddenly
presented to the direction of its course.  Startling disclosures had
somewhat obscured Gilhooly, and he had vanished from the lower room
without being missed.

For a man of sixty-five, the professor was very agile, and he took the
winding iron stairway two steps at a time.  I gained the storeroom close
behind him, and there we found Gilhooly, crooning to himself and working
like mad.

He was not working in the dark, but had possessed himself of my
bull's-eye lantern, which I had left on descending from the loft some
time before.  Mounted on a pile of packing cases, he was engaged in
painting a large steel cube, taking his pigment from an open cask with a
whitewash brush.

"My anti-gravity compound!" exclaimed the professor in an irritated
tone.  "There are several blocks on the floor, as you can see: Gilhooly
began painting that one, and it rose as insulation proceeded, lodging to
the left of the dome and tilted the car."

"This is the shabbiest lot of coaches I ever saw in my life," said
Gilhooly, dabbing away with the brush.  "I won't own a road with such
rolling stock."

The three men downstairs had followed Quinn and me.  After some coaxing,
Meigs got Gilhooly to descend from his perch and give up the whitewash
brush.

Thereupon the cube was pried over until it rested directly under another
block in the point of the dome, and the professor finished the
insulation begun by the railway magnate.

"Gilhooly will have to be watched," said Quinn, "or he will play havoc
with the materials I have stored up here.  He has wasted at least a
quart of that anti-gravity mixture, and it is worth its weight in gold.
Nay, it is worth more than that, for after this supply is exhausted
there will be none to be had for love or money.

"Our rate of speed has been multiplied by two, and we are rushing
through space with frightful rapidity.  There is my telescope"--and the
professor pointed to the instrument which stood beneath a window in the
sloping roof of the car.  "Suppose Gilhooly had demolished that! Or what
if he had wrecked the oxygen vat, or the anti-temperature reservoir!
Gentlemen, I shudder to think of what might have happened."

The professor sank down on a copper tank and brushed his perspiring brow
with a bandanna handkerchief.  I placed the lamp on a box beside the
bull's-eye lantern and reclined on a bale of something or other that lay
conveniently near.

Meigs and Popham dropped down on a packing case with Gilhooly moored
between them, and Markham took up his station on an overturned cask.

The loft of the car, stored as it was with odds and ends of science,
together with a supply of provisions made ready for us by the farsighted
and wonderful man who was conducting this select party into the unknown,
was an object of deep solicitude and interest.

Out of a desire to tag the various materials understandingly, I lifted
the lid of my curiosity and let out a few questions.

"If I mistake not," said I, "you mentioned this anti-temperature
material once before.  What is it, professor?"

"A liquid," he answered amiably.  "As a discovery, it is outranked only
by my anti-gravity compound.  An ounce of the fluid in a bath renders
the bather impervious to heat or cold, keeping in the animal caloric and
keeping out all other extremes of temperature.  Some of the mixture was
incorporated into the paint with which this car is coated.

"Yonder is the water receptacle," and the professor nodded toward a
large tank opposite him. "With economy, the supply in that reservoir
will last us several months.  The food I have provided is of the
ready-prepared kind, mostly in tins, with an alcohol lamp for the
brewing of tea, coffee, and chocolate.  During this hegira into infinity
I have omitted nothing, gentlemen, which will minister to your comfort."

"You are a very able man, professor," acknowledged Popham.  "How long
have you been planning this little excursion?"

"Ever since I began erecting what the Harlemites were pleased to call my
castle," smiled Quinn.  "The plan was conceived at the time the success
of the manipulations of yourself and your friends seemed assured."

"It was your purpose to foil the speculative gentlemen," I struck in,
"and so come to the aid of a long-suffering public?"

"You hit off the matter finely, Mr. Munn," replied the professor.  "That
was my purpose."

"Could not your anti-temperature mixture have been donated to the poor
with beneficial results?"

"It is altogether too expensive for general use. I will not conceal from
you gentlemen the fact that we are falling sunward.  If we make landfall
on a planet where the heat is several hundred degrees beyond our earthly
powers of endurance, the mixture in question will preserve us."

"Falling sunward!" exclaimed Markham.  "It was hard upon midnight when
we left the earth. If my school-day learning is not at fault, the sun,
at the hour of our departure, was on the opposite side of our planet.
How, then, does it happen that we are falling toward the great
luminary?"

"Bravo!" cried the professor, vastly pleased. "I am glad to see, Mr.
Markham, that your intellect has not suffered a total eclipse by the
demands of commercial supremacy.  Night is the result of one of the
Earth's hemispheres being turned from the sun, and, other things being
equal, we should now be falling toward the outer limits of our solar
system; but, if I may use the term, the castle was not aimed for a
direct fall from the earth's crust.  We dropped at a very sharp angle,
and the influence of the sun has attracted us still farther out of a
straight course. I trust you follow me?"

The three millionaires understood the situation, but, judging from the
expression of their faces, the knowledge brought keen disappointment.

"There are only two planets between the earth and the sun," observed
Markham, "Mercury and Venus, if I remember rightly."

"Both insignificant," grumbled Popham.

"Venus is about the size of our own planet, gentlemen," said the
professor.  "However, it has long been supposed that there is another
group of planets between Mercury and the sun, among them a little world
called Vulcan, which----"

"That does not interest us," cut in Meigs. "Sunward the planets are
smaller, but they get larger as you go the other way."

"Larger," expounded the professor, "but less dense."

"As I was about to tell you, a moment ago," pursued Popham, "Meigs,
Markham, and I have decided that either Saturn or Mars would about fill
the bill so far as we are concerned.  There are lights on Mars, which,
as we figure it, presupposes electricity; and electricity means
civilization to a degree that affords us a promising prospect.  Then,
again, there are canals on Mars, and, if canals, certainly water
transportation. Transportation problems of any sort will interest
Gilhooly; indeed, we are prone to think they would bring him back to his
normal poise. Saturn, on the other hand, has rings, and such a condition
might afford opportunities to wide-awake men such as are unknown
anywhere else in the solar system.  Take us either to Mars or to Saturn,
Professor Quinn, as you may find it most convenient.  We demand it!"

"It is impossible to do anything of that kind, Mr. Popham," returned the
professor decidedly. "The influence of the sun upon our course is too
powerful."

"Are we to understand, then," cried Markham, "that we are compelled to
put up with either Mercury or Venus?"

"Even there, gentlemen, we have no choice. We are in the grip of
circumstances and must perforce accept whatever fate throws our way.
Possibly we shall become a satellite of the sun, revolving around and
around it--Quinn's Planet, the smallest of any in the great system."

Although I felt drowsy, I aroused myself with an effort and kept sharp
eyes on the professor's face.  I do not think he was in earnest, but
merely talking to see what effect his remarks would have on the three
millionaires.

"Corner, corner, corner," babbled Gilhooly; "make a corner, corner
everything."

Markham dropped his face in his hands, Meigs bowed his head, and I saw a
shiver run through Popham.

"Egad," muttered Popham, "this castle of yours, Quinn, is little short
of a steel tomb. Inasmuch as we are safely interred, what's the use of
living?  Gilhooly is the only fortunate one among us, for his reason is
shattered and he cannot realize what he is facing."

"You are talking less like a man, now, Popham," reproved Quinn, "than
like a driveling idiot.  While there's life there's hope.  How many
brilliant minds have been overthrown as a result of your manipulations
of stock in Wall Street?  How many bright futures have been wrecked by
an adverse trend of the speculative market?  Were those unfortunates any
better off because thrust into madhouses and unable to realize the fate
that had overtaken them?  For shame, sir!"

"You are perfectly sure, are you, professor," I struck in, attempting to
give a more pleasant twist to the conversation, "that we shall come out
all right in the end?"

"I have my plans, Mr. Munn," he answered, not unkindly, "and the success
or failure of them will depend largely upon the mental attitude of these
gentlemen."

This was too deep for me, and I cast about for some equally important
question which would bring a less indefinite response.

"Anyhow," said I, "we have plenty of food for a long journey?  It would
be a fearful thing to have a famine so--so many miles from a base of
supplies."

"The food supply, Mr. Munn," answered the professor, "is adequate.
There will be no famine."

"And the water, the oxygen, the----"

"I have looked after everything necessary to our safety and comfort."

I had confidence in Quinn.  He had shown that he was an able man, and
that his promises were to be taken at face value.  With a sigh of
relief, I settled back in tolerable comfort.

Meigs took the role of questioner out of my hands at this point, and,
although I was eager to hear all that was said, "tired nature's sweet
restorer" got the better of my curiosity and I fell asleep on the bale.




                             *CHAPTER VI.*

                         *A LANDING EFFECTED.*


It is not my purpose to cumber this narrative with the smaller details
of our journey, novel and thrilling though some of them proved to be.
It is with our experiences on the planet which finally claimed us that
this account has mostly to do, so I shall glide over intermediate
incidents in a somewhat cursory manner.

Our faculties, keyed to an understanding of earthly conditions only,
found themselves continually at bay; and at nothing did they stand more
aghast than at the lightning-like speed with which we shot through
space.

The energy developed by the two insulated cubes gave to our steel car
the stupendous velocity of one hundred miles per second, six thousand
miles per minute, three hundred and sixty thousand miles per hour!
Human reason might well falter at the threshold of such immensity.

Yet while I slept peacefully on that bale in the storeroom, these
figures were verified by the professor and J. Archibald Meigs, who
happened to be the only two who were wide awake.  It has been my lasting
regret that they did not rouse me so that I might also have had a view
of the noble spectacle for the first time unrolled to earthly eyes.

We passed the moon, a dreary, burned-out world, and the professor was
able to check off two hundred and forty thousand miles of our sunward
plunge.  We had traveled a little more than half an hour at our ultimate
velocity; taking this into consideration, and noting the exact minute
when we crossed the centre of the satellite's orbit, the professor was
able to do some figuring and so test his theories as to speed.

The car skimmed through ether less than five hundred miles above the
lunar crust.  Quinn was doubly pleased, for he not only proved that our
velocity was substantially as he had supposed, but also discovered that
the moon's attraction, so powerful on the tides of our mother sphere,
could not swerve the car by a hair's breadth from its direct course, or
overcome the influence of the sun.

Meigs told me later that the marvelous beauty of the satellite, gleaming
against the black void with ghostly radiance, was probably worth the
trip and its attendant inconveniences.  He and Quinn had looked their
fill on the hemisphere which is never seen from the earth.

After this the hours literally flew past, the novelty of our journey
precluding any such thing as monotony.  In fact, we hardly allowed
ourselves a sufficient amount of time for rest and refreshment.

A lookout was kept continually at the eye-piece of the telescope to
signal the approach of any asteroid with which we might possibly come
into collision.  Only once did this danger threaten us, and then, as may
be supposed, it was the professor who proved our salvation.

The lever in the wall of the lower or living room of the car
communicated with screens, ingeniously arranged for shutting off the
power of the anti-gravity cubes.  By lessening our speed, the professor
suffered the asteroid to cross our course, our car ducking through the
luminous trail that swept out behind it.

Night reigned around us constantly.  Our car caught the rays of the sun,
it is true, but the lack of an atmosphere caused the light to be thrown
back into space and lost.

The castle was nothing less than a small planet, attended by five
satellites which, held to our vicinity by the car's attraction, circled
around us continually.  These satellites were the four knotted
handkerchiefs containing the tribute I had levied upon the plutocrats,
and also the revolver which had assisted me in the work.

These objects went through varied phases exactly as more pretentious
satellites would have done.  It would be difficult to describe my
feelings as I watched them from the car windows.

I am prone to think, at the present writing, that this lost booty,
waxing and waning under my eyes, planted in my nature those first seeds
of regret which finally grew into a reformation.

I recall a conversation that I had with Markham while I sat with my eye
at the lower end of the telescope, watching for stray asteroids.

The millionaires had given me to understand that I was not in their set.
Circumstances over which they had no control had brought us together
within the narrow confines of the car, but no social barriers had been
leveled.  Occasionally the novelty of our situation, and the consequent
excitement, would cause one or other of the wealthy gentleman to forget
the gulf that yawned between us.

This attitude of the magnate afforded me a good deal of innocent
enjoyment.  They had left social prestige, no less than their bank
accounts, behind them, and what little collateral they had had upon
their persons was now "satelliting" about the car.  The line they drew
between themselves and me, in their thoughtful moments, was a
distinction without much of a difference.

Markham, I remember, was munching a sandwich, contrived out of two
crackers and a slice of tinned beef.

"Did you never reflect, Mr. Munn," said he, "upon the evil of your
past?"

"When a man writes books which are mainly drawn from his own experience,
Mr. Markham," said I, "he has to go into his past pretty exhaustively."

"Ah, yes, I was forgetting about the books. Were you not horrified with
the results of your retrospection?"

"Horrified?  Well, yes, here and there.  I lost a big haul once through
the breaking of a jimmy, and I was horrified to think how any dealer in
burglar's kits could have foisted such an unreliable instrument upon a
well-meaning cracksman."

Markham stared at me dazedly.

"I have set down the experience in Chapter One of 'Forty Ways for
Cracking Safes,'" I proceeded, "and one of the first of my ten rules for
success in any safe-cracking job was this: Be sure that your kit is
reliable, and without flaws."

"Mr. Munn, Mr. Munn!" whispered Markham hoarsely.  "Think of the people
from whom you have taken property dishonestly."

"I never think of them but to wish that I had been able to relieve them
of more."

"This is awful!" muttered Markham.  "You really exult over what you have
done."

He would have started down the iron stairs had I not restrained him with
a word.

"Let me ask you something, Mr. Markham," said I.  "Last fall, bread went
to ten cents a loaf because the wheat market was cornered--and a man by
the name of Markham did the cornering. The people who had to put up that
extra five cents missed it more than did those from whom I took five
hundred dollars."

Markham coughed.  "Any asteroids in sight?" he inquired absently.

"I wonder if _you_ ever did any reflecting?" I asked tartly.

"What do you think of Quinn?" and Markham looked away as I took my eye
from the telescope and gave him an expressive wink.

"I don't think," I continued, "that you ever wrote a book called 'Forty
Ways to Starve the Poor.'  You have material enough for a pretty
effective volume on the subject, but you haven't my nerve."

"No," he returned slowly, "I haven't your nerve.  It requires unalloyed
impudence and a mind incapable of clear thinking to liken the results of
high finance with those of your own petty and highly criminal
proceedings.  You are too bright a man, Mr. Munn, to allow yourself to
be led afield by sophistries of that kind."

"Mr. Markham, Mr. Markham!" I breathed, in horrified protest.

"You have bolstered up your nefarious business with false ideals," he
went on, "and you are unregenerate and lost!"

"This is awful!" I murmured.

"When we get to where we are going," pursued Markham, either failing to
note my sarcasm or else hoping to ride it down, "I trust you will hold
your criminal instincts in check.  If there are any people there, don't
give them any false ideals or implant the notion that your standards
belong to the rest of us."

"I would not so belittle my ideals," I returned bluntly.

"Sir," he cried sharply, "am I to understand that you set yourself up as
being any better than Mr. Popham, Mr. Gilhooly, Mr. Meigs, or myself?"

"What you understand doesn't concern me in the least," I answered
airily.  "What you don't understand, it strikes me, is the matter that
ought to claim your attention."

"Confound you, sir!  Your overwhelming ignorance is equalled only by
your colossal egotism. I am sorry that I allowed myself to be beguiled
into any talk with you."

"Our regrets are mutual," said I, "for your conversation is
demoralizing.  You are a past master in successful trickery--trickery of
the sort that ought to be stamped out.  If the law was as quick to deal
with you as with me----"

"Hold!" fumed Markham, plunging for the stairs, "I have heard enough."

I have said that I was a hard man, in those times.  I could call a spade
a spade with never a thought that my angle of vision was distorted.  I
have regretted expressing my views in this frank fashion to Markham, yet
I believe that there was injustice in his remarks no less than in mine.

Being the only person in the car who possessed a watch, the professor
appointed me official time-keeper.  It was my duty to bulletin the hour,
with its equivalent in days such as we were accustomed to, upon a
blackboard in the lower room; I had also to enter this information upon
a book, which the professor called the "log-book."

Every ten hours we had a class in astronomy, with the professor as
instructor and with every man save Gilhooly and the lookout as students.
The railway magnate's aberration continued; all we could do was to watch
him solicitously and prevent him from doing any injury to himself or to
our paraphernalia.

The class learned that the nearest planet with an atmosphere, and
supposedly habitable, was Venus, which, at inferior conjunction, is
distant some twenty-five million miles from Terra, as Quinn called our
own planet.  Counting out the delays at starting, and in maneuvring to
escape the asteroid, our instructor asserted that we should reach Venus
in something like seventy-five hours.

Markham, Meigs, and Popham, on consulting the bulletin board and finding
that seventy hours had passed, began to brush their clothes and tidy
themselves against the hour of landing.  But they were destined to
disappointment.

Unable to locate Venus at the point where he had hoped to find it, the
professor decided that it was nearing superior conjunction and was
somewhere on the other side of the sun.  Meigs made a deplorable display
of temper.

Quinn was a mighty poor astronomer, he said sneeringly, if he could find
himself so far wide of the mark on such a simple matter.  Meigs further
added--with a good deal of childishness as I thought--that the role of a
derelict was distasteful to him: a derelict, he argued, was nothing more
than a tramp, and he objected to being a tramp, even a celestial tramp.

I was out of patience with the man.  Admiration for the professor had
taken fast hold of me and I would not have him sneered at or maligned.

A war of hot words was on between myself and the Wall Street broker when
Quinn interfered.

"True," said he, "we have missed Venus by a few millions of miles, but
we are aimed directly at the orbit of another world, and I can so
manipulate the lever as to wait for it, if necessary, and drop upon its
surface when it overtakes us."

"What world is that?" said Popham, pricking tip his ears.

"Mercury," answered the professor.  "It is the smallest orb in our solar
system and measures some three thousand miles in diameter."

"I thought Venus was rather contracted for men with such large schemes
as ourselves," remarked Meigs, shaking his head, "but this other planet
seems to be smaller still."

"I wonder if they have coal mines there?" murmured Popham meditatively.

"And if they grow wheat and cotton?" added Meigs.

"If Mercury is inhabited," spoke up Markham eagerly, "food will
certainly be as necessary there as on the earth.  I don't know,
gentlemen, but it strikes me we might fall into worse places."

"Poor Gilhooly!" sighed Meigs.  "What a pity it will be if the
Mercurials prove to have traction interests!"

"How long before we shall reach this planet you speak of, professor?"
inquired Popham.

"Well," answered Quinn thoughtfully, "Mercury is rather slow.  It
travels along its orbit at the rate of thirty miles per second, while we
are moving at one hundred miles.  At a rough estimate, I should say we
can effect a juncture with the planet in ten hours, although an extra
hour may be required for maneuvres to secure a landing."

The ten hours that followed were hours of great anxiety and feverish
labor.  Believing that my nerves were the steadiest, the professor
placed me at the telescope to act as pilot while he served as engineer
and manipulated the lever.

The responsibilities of my position so worked upon me that I had no time
for the glories of the planet we were endeavoring to intercept. Through
the telescope I saw huge mountains and broad plains, but they were
blurred over with a reddish light and the lesser details of topography
were lost.

When five hours were gone, the professor left the lever and came
upstairs to have a look through the telescope for himself.

"You have done very well indeed, Mr. Munn," he was pleased to say, "but
I think that I had better take this post from now on, while you go below
and station yourself at the switch board. The slightest mismanagement,
when the critical moment arrives, might hurl us against Mercury with a
force that would result in annihilation.

"The lever turns in a half circle, as you may know.  The arc is divided
into spaces, numbered from zero to ninety.  I will call down to you the
number to which you must throw the lever; you will repeat the number
back to me, and instantly obey my order."

"Trust me, sir," said I.

But the professor was loath to let me go without still further
impressing upon me the importance of the work before us.

"In order to alight safely, Mr. Munn," he continued, "we must graduate
the power of the anti-gravity cubes to the Mercurial atmosphere.  By
proceeding intelligently in the matter, we shall make the car weigh
slightly more than the atmosphere we encounter; then, when we are about
to land, we will let the car just counterbalance the 'pull' of the
planet and there will not be the slightest jar."

"I understand, professor," I answered and went downstairs.

Markham, Meigs, and Popham ascended to the upper chamber, this position
bringing them a few feet nearer the goal of our desires as well as
giving them a point of vantage from which to watch events.  Gilhooly was
the only one besides myself in the lower room; he was kneeling on the
divan writing imaginary stock quotations on the steel wall with the
point of his finger.

For four hours or more the professor called out for slight variations in
the speed of the car, but in the main the lever was held on the number,
90, which gave a maximum velocity.  The tension of the minutes ushering
in the last hour of the ten is beyond my power to describe.

Once in my evil days I manipulated the tumblers of a combination and
pulled open a vault door.  Behind the door stood two men with revolvers.
For two seconds I stared agape at the trap which I had sprung upon
myself; and when I got away I had a bullet in my shoulder.

Intensify my feelings fourfold as I stood looking into the leveled
revolvers of those two men, then spread out the two seconds to cover a
half hour.  In this way only can I describe my state of mind while we
fought for a safe landing on the planet Mercury.

Cries of wonder and apprehension echoed to me from overhead.  Above them
I heard the shrill voice of the professor:

"Zero."

"Zero," I repeated, throwing the lever clear over.

There followed a jolt as the screens covered the cubes and shut off
their energy.  Instantly there came the sickening sensation of a fall,
accompanied by a rush of displaced air that roared and bellowed all
about the car.

"Forty-five!" shrieked Quinn.

"Forty-five!" I yelled, throwing the lever half over.

Then we caught ourselves with a suddenness that threw me to my knees.
We were moving upward again--I could feel the steel floor rising under
me.

"Twenty!" came down from above.

"Twenty," I answered hoarsely, struggling erect and shifting the lever.

I felt that we were still rising, but slowly.  The professor was
juggling with an unknown atmosphere, and on the success of his judgment
depended our lives.

"Fifteen!"

"Fifteen!" and over went the lever for five degrees.

We were swinging stationary in mid-air. From the window by the switch
board I looked outward and downward with bulging eyes.

A dazzling glow covered peak and plain, and I turned away that my sight
might not be blinded to the lever numbers.

"Ten!" cried the professor.

"Ten it is!" and I threw the switch to the number given.

Then again we dropped, but slowly, very slowly.

"Five!"

I repeated the order, and again the air rushed against the blunt base of
the car, yet not so fiercely as before.  Then, all of a sudden, I felt a
grip of fingers about my throat, and I was hauled from the lever and
thrown back on the floor.

Gilhooly had a knee on my breast and was strangling me with fingers of
steel.  The fire of an insane purpose gleamed in his eyes, and he seemed
possessed of the strength of a dozen demons.

I struggled, but I might as well have tried to rise under the
thousand-tons pressure of a hydraulic press.

"Ten!" cried Quinn.

I did not answer--I could not, for my tongue was lolling between my
lips.

"Ten!" screamed Quinn.  "_Ten--or we're lost!_"

A groan, hardly audible, escaped my gasping throat.  I heard a frantic
clamor above and then there was such a jar and crash as I hope I shall
never experience again.

All tangible life slipped away from me, and I collapsed into an
unconsciousness that I felt might be death itself.




                             *CHAPTER VII.*

                      *FACING A MERCURIAL STORM.*


That our lives were preserved and the car saved from destruction was due
to two circumstances, one of them most peculiar and of far-reaching
importance.

The lesser of the two circumstances was this: the car had not dropped to
the plain, but had had its downward rush intercepted by an elevation, so
that the force of our fall was just about half what might have been
expected.

As to the other and more vital circumstance, the fall itself was not
what it would have been on our own sphere.  The "pull" of gravity on
Mercury, as we afterward discovered, has only one-third the power it has
on Terra.  To this phenomenon were due many wonderful things, as the
reader will discover before we have gone very far.

I was not the first of our party to open his eyes after the landing, for
when I sat up and stared about me I saw the professor moving around the
steel chamber and ministering to the others.

Gilhooly was creeping toward the divan on all fours, muttering something
about "a great slump in the market" and chuckling over the way in which
he had "got out from under."

J. Archibald Meigs was groaning and trying to lift himself on his elbow;
Augustus Popham was on his knees, wobbling erratically and apparently
undecided whether to say his prayers or to try and get up; Hannibal
Markham was flattened out along the floor, the professor kneeling over
him and chafing his temples.

"What sort of a navigator are you, Quinn?" asked Meigs crossly.  "By
gad, it is more dangerous to make port with you than it is to sail
through space."

"Don't blame the professor for a fault of mine, Meigs," I spoke up
warmly.

The broker looked at me with something like contempt.

"I blame him for placing an incompetent and irresponsible person at such
an important post as the switch board," said Meigs.  "He should have
known that a man who holds your distorted views on the subject of
personal property is not to be trusted."

"That's right," added Popham, lifting himself to the divan.

"Gilhooly made an attack on me," said I.  "He bore me down and came
within one of strangling me."

"Quinn is the cause of Gilhooly's abnormal condition," persisted Meigs,
who was bound to have Quinn at fault for every evil that overtook us.

I got up, rather more wrathful than the situation demanded.  The fall
had jarred my temper no less than my body, and I was in a mood to have
the business out with Meigs at close quarters.

"Softly, Mr. Munn!" cautioned the professor. "It is well to have a deaf
ear for these gentlemen at times.  Help me lift Mr. Markham to the
divan."

The professor's words dispelled my anger. Without another word to Meigs
I went over and assisted in getting the food trust magnate into a more
comfortable position.

Markham was not long in recovering, and when we took stock of ourselves
we found that we were not much the worse for our shaking up. Quinn
called to me to go upstairs with him and see if any havoc had been
wrought there.

We found that no particular damage had been done to the instruments or
other material.  When we descended to the lower chamber, after an
absence of fifteen or twenty minutes, Meigs had the key in the steel
door and was standing at the entrance with Popham and Markham on either
side of him.

"Where did you get that key?" demanded the professor, one hand groping
in his pocket.

Heretofore he had been careful to keep the key upon his person.  Small
wonder that he was now surprised to find it in the possession of Meigs.

"I found it on the floor," replied the broker with a good deal of
dignity.  "Probably you lost it out of your pocket when you fell from
the stairs a few minutes ago."

"What are you intending to do?" asked the professor quietly.

"Professor Quinn, sir," returned Meigs with elaborate condescension, "we
have reached the parting of the ways.  While we were traveling through
space, I and my friends could do nothing less than bear with your
company, and with that of the rogue at your side; but now that we are
safely moored on Mercury, and can debark, we see fit to withdraw
ourselves and renounce further intercourse with you."

"Ah!" murmured Quinn, a slow smile hovering about his thin lips.

The smile caused some acerbity to manifest itself in the three gentlemen
at the door.  They drew themselves up haughtily.

"Quinn," went on the broker sharply, "you lured us into your castle and
abducted us from our native orb, with small regard for the feelings of
our relatives or friends, and no consideration whatever for the business
interests with which we were engaged; so----"

"Your business interests had my every consideration," interrupted the
professor.

Meigs took no notice of the remark.

"So," he continued, "remembering these wrongs, we feel that we can no
longer associate with you.  As for Munn"--here he turned a fastidious
eye in my direction--"he is utterly impossible to men of our social
standing.  This planet, you tell us, is three thousand miles in
diameter. May we request that you and Munn take one end of the diameter
and leave the other end to us?"

The professor laughed softly and seated himself.

"Sit down, Mr. Munn," said he.  "We have been ostracized by our
fellow-exiles.  Let us see how well they get along without us."

"We bid you farewell," finished Meigs loftily.

Thereupon he turned the key, threw open the door--and dropped on the
threshold as though he had been shot!  Markham and Popham cried aloud,
threw their arms across their faces and reeled back.

A blast as from a furnace drove in at the opening, filling the chamber
like a draft from Hades.  I could scarcely breathe in the stifling
atmosphere.

"Hurry, Munn!" cried Quinn.  "Drag Meigs away from the door or he'll be
burned to a crisp!"

The broker was already smoking when I caught his ankles and jerked him
inside.  The professor slammed the door.

Presently the air within the car readjusted itself to normal conditions.
Meigs, red as a beet and breathing heavily, was little the worse for his
warm experience.

"I fancy, Mr. Meigs," cooed the professor, "that you will wish to avail
yourself of one of my anti-temperature baths before cutting loose from
myself and Mr. Munn.  There is plenty of water left for all of us, and I
will go aloft, set up the collapsible tub, and make the bath ready.  We
have alighted in the tropics, evidently, and at the period of
mid-summer.  The temperature is about five hundred degrees, fahrenheit."

With that the professor took the key from the door to keep Gilhooly from
making a dash outside, and started for the storeroom.  I followed him,
the three disgruntled gentlemen gazing after us mutely.

The professor and I were the first to fortify ourselves with the
anti-temperature bath.  After dipping our bodies, we rinsed our clothing
in the liquid.

Aside from a pleasant, cooling sensation the bath gave no evidence of
its potent qualities. There was no hardening of the skin, as I fancied
there might be, no change in its ruddy color, no inconvenience.

When we went down again we sent the other three gentlemen aloft, the
professor instructing them as to the necessity of making their clothing
as well as their bodies proof against the climate.  In due course,
Popham, Meigs, and Markham once more showed themselves.

Gilhooly, of course, had also to be made immune; and he struggled
against it so fiercely that we were obliged to hold him in the tub while
the professor poured three buckets of the mixture over him.

He was not disrobed, and when sufficiently drenched he leaped from the
tub and fled, raving, to the lower chamber.

"Now," said the professor, "we are prepared to fare forth.  You
gentlemen"--he addressed himself to Markham, Meigs, and Popham--"may go
with Mr. Munn and me, or keep by yourselves, as you may elect.  But it
will be well to make this car our headquarters.  Here we have food and
drink, also a stronghold in case of attack by the Mercurials--if there
happen to be any."

"How can there be any life in such an over-heated atmosphere?" inquired
Markham.

"Nature is a great leveler of barriers," replied Quinn.  "She is able to
adjust life to its environment, you may be sure, just as easily as she
can bridge the social chasm that separates a thief from a trust
magnate."

His eyes twinkled.

"Such a bridge," he added, "would not prove much of a tax on her
resources.  For my own part, I do not think the chasm either so wide or
so deep as you gentlemen appear to imagine."

I chuckled at that, and Meigs and his two companions grew duly
resentful.

"As for Mr. Gilhooly," continued Quinn, "we cannot take him with us on
our tour of observation. It will be best to leave him locked in the car.
I will close the trap leading into the store-room and I do not think it
will be possible for him to work much damage in the room below."

"I don't know what good it will do me to go out with your exploring
expedition," said Popham dejectedly; "in a country as hot as this there
can be no earthly use for coal."

"Or wearing apparel," added Meigs listlessly. "Cotton couldn't grow in
such a temperature. And as for wheat!"  He shook his head wearily.

Cotton and wheat were the abc of his Wall Street experience.  Beyond
those commodities he groped in the dark.

"What sort of food can be grown on such a sun-baked planet?" grumbled
Markham.

The railway man was shouting something about watered stock, and his
babbling was wafted up to us.

"Gilhooly," added Markham, "is the only fortunate man in the party.
Realization will blast the hopes and mayhap prove the death of the rest
of us, while he--he cannot realize!"

"You gentlemen lose courage too quickly," said the professor.  "In my
lectures on Venus I told you how that planet was inclined to the plane
of its orbit.  The axis of Mercury has a still greater inclination; in
fact, the orb leans on itself as though about to fall.  Its days are of
about the same length as the days of Terra--only three minutes
longer--but its years, owing to its contracted orbit, are much shorter.
In eighty-eight days Mercury makes its round, so that each season is
only twenty-two days in length.

"At the poles of Mercury, in what answers to the polar regions of our
own earth, there must be a more tempered climate----"

"Then let us get there, by all means," cut in Popham.

"In whatever we do," answered Quinn, "we must make haste slowly."

"Let's get out and look around, anyhow," cried Meigs.  "It may happen,
after all, that we have a world to conquer here, and I have not the
patience to remain longer in this steel cell of yours."

"Very good," returned the professor.  "We will make our preparations and
go forth."

He shut off the flow of oxygen from the tank and then followed the rest
of us to the under apartment, closing a steel door over the trap at the
head of the stairs and locking it.  Gilhooly, imagining himself a
conductor, was walking around the edge of the circular divan collecting
tickets from imaginary passengers.

"Sing Sing!" he called out as the professor unlocked the door at the
entrance and pulled it open.

"Here's where you get off, Munn," said Meigs maliciously.

"Here's where we all get off," returned the professor, smiling.

Thereupon we passed hastily into the blinding glare of the Mercurial
day.  For several minutes our eyes rebelled at the brightness; when
finally they became inured to it, we looked around us upon a desolation
that struck dismay to our hearts.

We saw then that our car had alighted upon an elevation which was
nothing less than the rim of an extinct volcano of vast proportions.
From ridge to ridge across the abysmal crater at least half a mile could
be measured.

It was beyond the power of our eyes to penetrate to the black depths of
the great pit.

"Listen!" cried the professor, his voice resounding so thunderously as
almost to deafen us--some trick of the atmosphere.

We stood silently, our ears alert, and heard a confused babel of sound
proceeding apparently out of the very core of the volcano.

"Sub-Mercurial fires may be at work down there," whispered the
professor, nodding toward the crater.

Even the whisper sounded unpleasantly loud to us.

"What a world!" came from Augustus Popham in bellowing tones.  "With
fire within and without, what chance is there for life, liberty, and the
pursuit of happiness?"

Some of Meigs' peevishness had got into the coal man, and he rent the
air with it.  We remained mule after this outburst, I with my gaze
hopefully on the professor and the professor blinking at the sun.

In a little time I allowed my own eyes to falter zenithward, and the
glory of the sun in Mercury's mid-heaven has ever since been one of the
treasured memories of my life.  Its disk was six times its diameter as
viewed from Earth, and the grandeur of its flaming surface is beyond the
powers of my feeble pen to make known.

I was oppressed and held captive by a feeling of awe and wonder.  There
was a red tinge to the atmosphere, caused by a reflection from the red
of the planet's brick-like crust; through this warm color pulsed the
golden streamers--yellow and scarlet overhead, fading to faintest orange
on the horizon.

"Think you, Mr. Popham," murmured the professor, his voice awakening us
as from a trance, "that all yon splendor, which has been in these skies
for ages upon ages, was created for the enjoyment of no living thing?
If so, you are wrong.  There are now, as there have always been, beings
with an intelligence capable of appreciating all this magnificent
profusion of light and color.  But enough.  We have looked down into the
crater and up into the heavens; suppose we turn our eyes another way and
see what there is to offer."

He faced about as he spoke, and gazed down the bare rocky slope of the
volcano and off across an equally bare and forbidding plain.

"No trees, no water, no life of any kind," muttered Meigs querulously.

"There is a bright spot over there," said Quinn, shading his eyes and
pointing.

Our eyes followed his finger and encountered a glittering object on a
slight elevation.  As we gazed, the object, whatever it was, slowly
vanished.

"We might investigate that," suggested Popham excitedly.  "Perhaps it
was a Mercurial wearing a sort of armor to protect him from the heat.
It may be that there are people here, and that they live underground."

He would have started forthwith, but the professor stretched out a hand
and detained him.

"Just a moment," said Quinn.  "Before we get too far from the car, let
me make sure that all of you are sufficiently immune from the heat.  Do
you feel that you are fully protected in that respect, gentlemen?"

So far as I was personally concerned, I had not felt the slightest
inconvenience from the sun's rays.  I declared as much, and the others
likewise so expressed themselves.

"There's another one of the things!" spoke up Meigs, pointing in another
direction.

We were just able to detect a glow on another low elevation when it also
flashed into thin air. Then we began looking for the little hills, and
counted no less than a dozen within our range of vision.

Some of the hills were capped with the mysterious gleam, which dazzled
for a time and then twinkled out.

The professor was perplexed, as I could see plainly.

"We'll examine one of those hills," said Meigs, "and find out what this
means."

The top of the volcano, where we were standing, was perhaps five hundred
feet from the plain.  As Meigs spoke, he leaped for a rock a yard or so
below him.

To the astonishment of all of us, he rose in the air like a human
balloon, soared over the rock by a score of feet, and alighted several
rods down the slope.

It was a titanic jump, but Meigs had regained a foothold with the
lightness of a piece of down. He was a large man, was Meigs, his
ponderosity exceeding two hundred pounds, Fairbanks.

He was as much surprised at his agility as we were, and began to essay
various feats.  He leaped straight upward, gaining a maximum height of a
dozen yards and returning lightly and easily to his original position.

Next he coupled his leap with an aerial somersault, and carried on with
an abandon much beneath the dignity of a Wall Street broker, as it
struck me.  In fact, he acted like a schoolboy out for a holiday, and so
full of animal spirits he hardly knew what to do with himself.

"You'd think he belonged to a circus," observed the disgusted Popham.
"I'll go down there and put a stop to the performance."

"And I'll go along and help," added Markham, visibly distracted because
of the broker's folly.

They started down the steep with rod-long steps; and presently one would
have thought they wore seven-league boots from the amount of speed they
developed.

Instead of putting a stop to the broker's performance they joined in.
By and by they were playing leapfrog, every bound taking them forward
half a hundred feet.

"Gravity here is far from having the force it has on Terra," remarked
the professor. "Exertion comes easy and gives most astonishing results.
Those men, Mr. Munn, are not used to such activity, yet their marvelous
gymnastics do not seem to tire them in the least.  Suppose that we
ourselves make a test of the Mercurial gravity?"

I needed no second bidding, and Quinn and I took the descent as
buoyantly as thistle-down before the wind.  Somehow the lightness of our
heels got into our heads, and the staid professor and myself began
cavorting like a pair of ten-year-olds.

The delightful freedom of movement, was as novel as it was exhilarating.
Liberty of muscle bred license of mind; had we been smoking opium we
could not have acted more outrageously.

Nor was there any fatigue apparent.  I felt that I could have run a
hundred miles in as many minutes and never paused for breath.

Carried away by the wonderful effects of diminished gravity, we forgot
all about our projected investigation of the little hills.  In the midst
of a game of tag we were suddenly brought to our senses with a round
turn.

A pall had fallen over the landscape.  The sun was blotted out by inky
clouds, and a tremendous wind began to blow.

"We must get back to the car!" cried Quinn.

His voice, great in volume though it was, was all but drowned in the
shriek and roar of the blast.  The lightness that had afforded us so
much enjoyment in still air now became a source of grave danger, for we
could not keep our feet in the fury of the tempest.

"Merciful powers!" roared Popham, as he and Meigs were driven against
each other with a terrific impact.

Although sorely put to it to keep myself from being blown away, I
managed to cling to a rock and watch the weird gyrations of the two
millionaires.  Their collision had caused them to lose their footing,
and, clinging desperately to each other, they were hurled back and
forth, touching the ground now and then, only to rebound from it like
rubber balls.  And all the time this ground-and-lofty tumbling was going
on both men were whooping frantically for some one to come to their aid.

I was too hard beset to think of leaving my place of temporary refuge,
and it was only when I saw the professor and Markham, their right hands
clasped, staggering toward the two men, that I made up my mind to join
them.  Three of us, in a chain, might be able to do something toward
rescuing Popham and Meigs.

Breathing deep, like a swimmer about to plunge through a whirlpool, I
cast myself adrift and allowed the wind to drive me in the direction of
the professor and Markham.  No matter how strongly I braced backward
against the blast, every time I lifted a foot I was hurled onward and
almost overturned.  Finally, more by good luck than anything else, I
came close enough to catch the professor's hand.

"Popham and Meigs will be killed if we can't get to them!" shouted
Markham.

There were eddies in the wind, like those in the swift current of a
stream, and Popham and Meigs had become entangled in them.  Had they
been blown off on a straightaway course, they would long since have been
too far away for us to do anything toward laying hands on them and
getting them upright.

The professor had taken note of the gyratory movements of our hapless
companions, and he called upon Markham and me to plant ourselves as
firmly as possible and remain in our present positions.  This was easier
said than done; yet, by calling upon every ounce of our reserve
strength, we contrived, after a fashion, to keep our places.

Popham and Meigs were bounding and leaping through the arc of a great
circle.  All we had to do was to remain where we were and wait for them.

They came to us in mid-air, and we had literally to reach up and pull
them down.  For a space the five of us were tangled in an indiscriminate
heap, our united weight offering greater resistance to the wind and
giving us an opportunity to rest and collect our scattered wits.

"Join hands," cried the professor, "and we'll get under the lee of that
rock.  Careful, now! We must not get separated again."

By desperate work we succeeded in getting to our feet and clasping
hands; then, hurled and buffeted, we gained the rock and fell breathless
under the leeward side of it.

"What a place, what a place!" groaned Popham.

"I wish Venus hadn't been out of our course," wailed Meigs.  "Certainly
we couldn't have been any worse off there than here."

"No wonder nothing can grow on this sun-scorched world," growled
Markham.  "Even if plants could stand the heat such a wind would pull
them up by the roots."

"What are we to do now?" demanded Popham. "You got us into this, Quinn,
and you've got to get us out of it."

"Now's a good time for you three to go off to the other side of the
planet," I remarked. "Whenever there's danger, you suddenly realize that
you can't get along without the professor. Oh, you're a fine lot of
nabobs, you are."

"Peace, Mr. Munn," called the professor.  "We have enough to occupy our
minds without wasting time in useless bickering.  I was at fault, for I
knew what terrible gales visit this planet, and that they come suddenly.
It was a mistake to venture so far from the car."

"A mistake," breathed Meigs, with some heat, "that came near having
tragic consequences. Popham and I were knocked about like a couple of
footballs."

"What's to be done, what's to be done?" cried Popham impatiently.  "The
gale is increasing, and who knows but this rock may be plucked up bodily
and rolled over us?  We can't stay here."

"That is true," said the professor.  "We must get back to the car."

"There's no telling what will become of us if we try that," called
Markham.

"And there's no telling what will become of us if we remain here,"
answered the professor. "If we form a chain, it is quite possible that
we may succeed in getting back to our refuge."

"Even the car may not be able to stand up against this wind," clamored
Meigs.

"We shall have to take our chances with it, nevertheless," went on
Quinn.  "If we should get separated, each of us must make the best
preparations he can to weather the gale, and then, when it has blown
itself out, hunt for the car.  That must be our rendezvous during the
time we are here."

The professor got up slowly, bracing himself against the fierce swirl
that came around the side of the rock.

"Come," he called; "it is now or never."

I could see that the gale had increased alarmingly.  Its force seemed
irresistible, and yet I knew that we could not remain where we were.

We clasped hands again, but were unable to cling together, being lifted
high and thrown helter-skelter in all directions.  Lightning
flashed--such lightning as I have never seen before or since.

It snapped and crackled overhead and ran like trailing serpents over the
rocks.  We were in a sea of flame.

And the thunder!  It seemed to split the heavens and crack open the
lava-like hills.  Rain came; yet not rain, for it turned to damp vapor
in the red-hot atmosphere.  The Mercurial elements were at war--wind,
steam, thunder, and lightning all marshaling their hosts and charging to
conflict.

To regain the steel car was impossible.  We were lost in the fearsome
fury of darkness and storm, driven helplessly and with smashing force
across the vast plain.

I was hurled against something which I gripped with convulsive energy.
The something gripped me in return.

"Help!" I cried, bereft of my wits and eager only for rescue.

"Munn!" shouted a voice.  "Is this you?"

"Quinn!" I exclaimed.

"We must hang together."  said Quinn.

And then, tightly locked in each other's arms, we were lifted high on a
billow of fog and driven relentlessly I know not how far.

When the blast released us, we fell to the rocks and rolled over and
over; then the surface beneath us gave way and we dropped.

The distance we fell could be only a matter of guesswork, and even
guesswork was out of the question in the disordered state of our minds
at that moment.  Suffice to say the fall did not render us unconscious,
and we struck on something that vibrated under the impact of our bodies.
We were still in blank darkness, and the turmoil of the tempest no
longer beat about us, but could be heard crashing somewhere overhead.

"Thank Heaven!" murmured the professor, withdrawing himself from me.
"Are you alive, Mr. Munn?"

"I believe so," I answered.  "What has happened to us, professor?"

"We have been flung into some sort of a shelter, it seems to me," he
replied.

"But we are not on stable ground," he added. "We are sitting on an
object that is descending with us, descending rapidly and--ah, wonder of
wonders!"

Abruptly we fell into broad day, surrounded by such sights and sounds
that I thought myself dealing with the mysteries of a disordered dream.




                            *CHAPTER VIII.*

                           *THE MERCURIALS.*


Professor Quinn and I were sitting on a large box constructed of metal
that was polished to dazzling brilliancy.  So far as our purposes were
concerned, this box was nothing less than an elevator; we had fallen
upon it and it had carried us down into the wonderful interior of the
planet.

Now, truly, we were in another world--a world that teemed with life--a
smiling and pleasant region underlying a most barren and inhospitable
shell.  The scoriated exterior of the planet was the husk; here was the
kernel.

It was a white world, extending league on league in every direction and
roofed with a lofty vault that sparkled as with stars.  From every hand
came a bee-like hum, proving that we were in a hive of industry and
life.

Houses spread out before us in rows, queerly shaped structures that
looked as though they might have been built of alabaster, and so
diminutive that the tallest scarcely came more than head high.  Back of
the houses were fields thickly covered with nodding blossoms that looked
like snow; through the fields ran waterways dividing each into small
squares.

So intent were we on the background of this strange picture that we
failed to take account of what was going on in our immediate vicinity.

Suddenly a weird creature hopped to the top of the box and stood between
my companion and myself, regarding us fixedly.  This, I supposed, was
one of the Mercurials.  If he considered the professor and myself
objects of curiosity and surmise, we were no less keen in so regarding
him.

He stood twenty-three or twenty-four inches high; his head was an ivory
billiard ball, and his trunk a larger spheroid; from his middle downward
hung a red kirtle.  He had one eye at the front of the head and an ear
at the back; the olfactory organ was missing, but there was a mouth
opening perpendicularly under the eye.

The upper spheroid rested directly on the lower; and at each side of the
lower one, corresponding to the shoulders, were two tentacle-like arms,
sinuous as whips and ending in hands that were made up of a palm and
seven digits. Queerest of all, there were two more arms set in the
breast and back.

From the creature's shoulder was suspended a round object like a
canteen.  For all of five minutes Quinn and I eyed this surprising
figure and were eyed in return.

"Can you talk English?" asked the professor at last.

It was a foolish question, such as I was far from expecting from the
professor, but something had to be said, and I suppose that was as good
as anything else.  As the professor began speaking the head whirled
squarely around, presenting the ear.

After my companion was done, the head spun back again, and the breast
arm caught the canteen while the fingers of a shoulder arm began
manipulating a set of keys.  The result was language, with all the
variations of tone and accent. But it was an unknown tongue, if an
expression of that kind may be allowed in such a case.

Since the word-box was as ineffective as our own speech, we fell back
with more success on the language of signs.  At this the Mercurial had
the better of us, for he could make signs with four hands.

The professor signified that we were hungry, and the Mercurial signified
that we were to descend from the box.  This we did, and found ourselves
in the centre of a group of Mercurials whose word-boxes were chattering
like so many magpies.

The Mercurial with whom we were already on gesticulating terms played
off some orders on his own canteen, and two of the others advanced upon
the box from which we had just descended. Pulling out a slide in the
side of the receptacle, they exposed two ewers of steaming food, and we
were motioned to fall to.

We stood not upon the order, but obeyed instantly, using a pair of small
paddles which were thrust into our hands.  I had no idea what the food
might be, but it was tender and of good flavor.

"A bright little people," observed the professor as he ate.

"Seemingly," I responded.

"Nature has denied them the power of speech, yet see how they have
surmounted the difficulty. I must give that talking machine of theirs a
close inspection.  We are in a most wonderful country, Mr. Munn."

"The little I have seen of it already quite dazes me," said I.  "What a
pickpocket a man could make of himself with all those hands!"

Quinn gave me a reproachful look, and I hastily apologized for even
mentioning a branch of my profession.

"Do you understand now," said he, turning the subject very pleasantly,
"what those bright objects were which we saw on the tops of the low
hills?"

"No," said I.

"They were ovens," he answered.  "Food is put in them and sent up to the
hot surface of the planet.  When properly cooked it is lowered again."

Association with this learned man was a liberal education in itself.  I
can never be sufficiently thankful to fate for causing our paths to
cross.

"You think, then," said I, "that we were blown to the top of one of the
hills and fell into a shaft used by the traveling ovens?"

"Nothing else could have happened."

The professor gave a start and looked worried.

"Dear, dear!" he exclaimed.  "I was quite forgetting our friends.  While
we are here feasting and taking our ease, they are battling with the
storm, and are no doubt in peril of their lives.  How very, very
thoughtless we are, Mr. Munn."

I was not greatly exercised over the matter. The trust magnates believed
that there was a figurative gulf between myself and them, and I was more
than willing that this gulf should grow from the symbol to the reality.

"I doubt if we can return to the outside of the planet at present,
professor," said I, "and even if we were able to do so, what could we
accomplish in the face of that tremendous storm?"

"True, very true," said he.

"That oven," said I, by way of taking his mind from the plutocrats,
"must have been very warm when we landed on it and descended to these
regions."

"We should have been grilled, sir," returned the professor, "but for the
fact that we are coated, and our clothing impregnated, with my
anti-temperature fluid."

"These Mercurials appear to stand the heat pretty well," I remarked.

"Covered, as we are, with the anti-temperature compound," he returned,
"it is impossible for us to judge, even approximately, of the degree of
heat that obtains in these sub-Mercurial regions. Naturally it must be
very much less than prevails on the surface of the planet, and yet, even
at that, if left unprotected we should probably be shriveled to
cinders."

"Hardly, professor," I ventured to protest. "Those fields"--and I waved
my paddle toward the open country--"are growing rank with a white herb,
which is evidently cooked in these ovens and served for food.  Quite
likely we are eating of it now, and very good eating I find it. However,
the point I wish to make is this: If the heat was so intense as you
surmise, those fields would be wilted and dried up."

"Nature, Mr. Munn," answered the professor, "adapts itself to every
condition.  On our own planet we see how life and comfort are rendered
possible in every zone from the farthest north to the tropics; and this
same adaptability of intelligent creatures to their environment, we may
be sure, proceeds throughout the universe.  These one-eared, one-eyed,
diminutive creatures are formed in the manner best calculated to afford
them comfort and happiness amid these surroundings.  And, as with them,
so with the products of their husbandry."

"You could argue a squirrel out of a tree, professor," said I, with
whole-souled admiration. "I am sorry I did not take a course of
scientific training, for it would have helped me immensely in my
business.  A burglar should be an all-around man.  If I ever return to
Terra----"

"So long as you feel as you do regarding your odious profession, Mr.
Munn," broke in the professor, compressing his lips, "you will never
return to Terra."

"A return is possible?" I asked, hiding the wonder his words aroused.

"Anything is possible."

"How about the millionaires?  Are they to return provided the means are
at hand?"

"Provided they experience a change of heart. In their present state of
delusion, they are mere firebrands of destruction.  Before they ever
again take part in mundane affairs, they must be taught to see things
differently.  I wonder what has become of them?"

The professor's brow clouded with anxiety.

"Don't fret about them, professor," said I. "They are not overeager for
our society.  Let them have a taste of shifting for themselves without
your knowledge and resourcefulness to shield them from everything that
goes wrong. It will do them a world of good."

"Perhaps you are right, Mr. Munn," my companion answered musingly.  "If
I could know they had survived the storm, I should feel tolerably easy
in my mind.  These little Mercurials appear to be a friendly people, and
if our comrades escaped that frightful tempest they must sooner or later
fall into the hands of these dwellers of the under-world."

"I suppose," I ventured, seeking to draw my companion's mind from the
plutocrats, "that this Mercurial under-world is another illustration of
the way Nature takes care of her proteges.  After baking the outside
shell of the planet to a degree that makes all life impossible, she
thoughtfully scoops out the interior so that these small creatures will
have a place to go."

"You have stated the case correctly, Mr. Munn," and the professor's face
lighted up as he swept his gaze over the country immediately adjacent.
"These ovens," he proceeded, "are a remarkable example of adapting means
to an end. The fierce heat of the surface does the cooking."

"Popham will find little pleasure in that," I laughed.

"Like the rest of us," answered the professor grimly, "he will have to
accustom himself to new conditions."

"Everything must be different here from the surroundings with which we
have been familiar all our lives.  I wonder what form of property is
considered most valuable to these Mercurials?"

The professor frowned.  My mind was running in its old groove despite
its novel environment.

"That query was inspired by an unworthy motive, Mr. Munn," said Quinn
severely.

I bowed humbly.  "Every man his own way," said I.  "I cannot help trying
to adjust myself along the line of the principles I know best.
Nevertheless I am of an intensely curious disposition, and those
talk-boxes fill me with wonder."

"The Mercurials are dumb, it seems," answered the professor, "and they
have to resort to purely mechanical means for an exchange of ideas.
Language appears to flow readily enough from the little boxes."

"If any one of them ever lost his four hands," I observed, "he would not
only find it impossible to help himself but would be unable to tell
others what to do to help him.  Nature has been prodigal with them in
the matter of hands, and in this, no doubt, showed her usual wisdom."

"I am glad to see your thoughts taking a philosophical trend, Mr. Munn,"
said the professor. "It argues well for your future."

By that time we had emptied the receptacle of food, and as we dropped
our paddles and drew back, the word-boxes of a hundred Mercurials
shrieked despairingly.  The pygmies clustered about the empty basins,
glared into them, and then turned their menacing eyes on the professor
and myself.

"Goodness me, Mr. Munn," exclaimed the professor.  "We have probably
eaten the food supply of the entire district.  If we do not have a care,
our voracious appetites are like to prove our undoing.  Look, there come
more of the Mercurials.  They're after their supper, I'll warrant, and
they are going to be disappointed."

I looked in the direction indicated by the professor, and saw a long
line of billiard balls rolling our way.

It was a procession, headed by a pompous little Mercurial whose trunk
and arms were gorgeously gilded.  With two of his hands he carried a
metal plate and spoon, and with the other two he wielded a silver baton
about the size of a match.

Plates and paddles were also carried by the rest of the advancing
Mercurials, their word-boxes chanting a sort of quickstep.  The sight of
the professor and myself, towering mountain-like over the throng about
us, brought the procession to an abrupt halt with a squeak of dismay.

The gentleman in the red kirtle went forward and held converse with the
gentleman of the gilt torso.  Before they got through, their word-boxes
were fairly roaring, and stricken groans went up from every talk-machine
in the line.

The advent of two leviathans like my companion and myself must have had
a demoralizing effect, but that seemed as nothing in comparison with the
harrowing results of our voracity.

The leader raised his baton.  Silence fell.  The leader then advanced to
where we were standing and circled around us, examining us critically
with his solitary eye.

The survey finished, he tried his word-box on us, the professor
answering in all the languages of our home planet, living and dead, of
which he was master.  But in vain; we could not come to an
understanding.

The begilded gentleman finally gave over and whirled on the underling in
the red kirtle.  His fingers flew over the keys of his canteen, and
speech of a swift and commanding kind was poured out.

A skurrying about of the oven tenders resulted.  From somewhere a fresh
supply of uncooked food was brought and placed in the huge metal box.

While this was going forward, Quinn suddenly seized my arm, a troubled
look crossing his face.

"What is the matter, professor?" I asked.

"Matter enough, Mr. Munn!" he answered. "The lever was left on Number
Five!"

His thoughts were up with the steel car.  I was surprised at this, for
it appeared to me that there was more than enough to claim our full
attention right in our immediate vicinity.

"And what of that, sir?" I asked.

"The anti-gravity cubes lighten the car by five degrees," he answered
excitedly.  "Thus buoyed, and in its elevated position, I doubt if the
car should hold its own against the fury of the storm!"

"You think it has been blown----"

"Aye!  Blown to the uttermost parts of Mercury and perhaps wrecked and
lost--lost with all our scientific apparatus and other paraphernalia!"

"But----"

"And that is not all," went on the professor. "The lever should have
been thrown to zero and then removed to prevent Gilhooly from tampering
with it.  Who knows what that mad railway magnate may take it into his
head to do? Suppose he were to grasp the lever and give the cubes their
full power.  He would be launched into the void, sir, and we should be
marooned on this sun-baked planet, compelled to live out our lives with
these one-eyed quadrumana, devastating the country of its food
supply--our presence a curse instead of a blessing!"

I had already imagined a possible return to Terra, and from this it,
seemed that the professor had not lost sight of that contingency.

"What is to be done?" I asked, catching some of his excitement.

"We must return to the outer shell--we must find the car--we must go
back on the oven when they send it up!"

As he finished speaking, Quinn ran frantically to the metal box and
leaped to its top.  I followed, clumsily upsetting a half dozen
Mercurials who chanced to gel in my way.

The oven was loaded by that time and ready for its return to the intense
heat; nay, more, the chef in the red kirtle already had his hand on a
wheel which presumably released the lifting power.

Our movements, however, had acted as a check on proceedings.

"We've got to go back!" cried the professor, forgetting in his stress of
feeling that his words were lost on the throng around us.  "Don't
attempt to stop us, don't!  We'll return----"

The Mercurials began leaping to the box from all sides in a veritable
swarm.  Carried away by the excitement of the moment, I sank to my knees
and swept my arms about me, throwing them back pell-mell.

The professor also resorted to violence.  In the midst of it all, I
caught a glimpse of the gilded gentleman aiming his baton.

A moment more and there was a lurid flash, which enveloped my companion
and myself in a billow of violet fire.  Every atom of strength was drawn
from my limbs, and I fell limply to the ground with the professor on top
of me.




                             *CHAPTER IX.*

                        *LEARNING THE WORD-BOX.*


It was not the violet fire that did the work for the professor and me.
Rather it was some chemical, known to the Mercurials, and which
manifested its presence by an overpowering odor.

Long after we had regained consciousness, the drug-like smell clung to
our clothes and sapped our strength.  Shackles of iron could not have
been more effective in making us prisoners.

Cords were made fast to our feet, and we were dragged by a small army of
Mercurials down the principal street of their city and out into one of
the white, irrigated fields.

Had a dwelling been found large enough, I presume we should have been
comfortably housed, but we were of such stupendous proportions that
there were no walls capable of containing us.

When we reached the field, a ring a foot high was reared about us.  As
the odor lessened and my strength increased I tried to roll over this
low barrier, but received such a shock that I was only too glad to roll
back to the professor's side again.

"It is of no use, Mr. Munn," said the professor, who had been watching
my attempt.  "These Mercurials are possessed of ways and means beyond
our earthly powers to combat.  We must accept the situation with all the
philosophy we can muster."

This great man, who could remain unshaken under any fate that befell
him, was a constant source of strength and inspiration to me.  While we
lay forsaken by our captors and couched on the strange white herbage of
that underground field, our discourse drifted along many channels.

I remember that I asked him a question concerning a matter that had long
been weighing upon my mind.

"How is it, professor," said I, "that your anti-gravity compound remains
in a liquid state in an open cask?  I should think its inherent energy
would cause it to fly upward _en masse_."

"I can demonstrate that by means of an algebraic formula," said he.
"Are you acquainted with algebra?"

"No," I answered humbly.

"Then," he went on disappointedly, "I fear you will have to remain in
ignorance.  You must rest content with the evidence of your senses,
since an explanation in terms you can understand is impossible."

And thus the matter rested.  When we were so far recovered as to be able
to rise, we made an attempt to step over the ring that hemmed us in, but
were shocked by the same unseen power I had already encountered, and
driven back.

"See with what weapons nature has provided these people!" murmured the
professor. "Throughout the universe everywhere you will find, Mr. Munn,
that Nature takes care of her own.  Ah, here comes Captain Goldman!
Retainers follow, and they are bringing--now, what are they bringing?
Why, as I live, they have manufactured a couple of large word-boxes.
Evidently we are to be taught the use of them."

The professor was right.  Ever since our disastrous attempt to regain
the surface we had been tabooed by the inhabitants of the country.

"Captain Goldman," as my companion referred to the little man who had
used his mysterious baton with such telling effect, was crossing the
fields toward us, followed by six of his countrymen bearing the talking
machines.  As a precautionary measure, the captain carried his weapon.

Arriving at the ring, Captain Goldman reversed the baton and with the
black tip of it cut an imaginary doorway for himself in the air. He then
stepped through and joined us, without shock or resistance.

Thus, by means to us inexplicable, he broke the power of the circle at a
given point.  The others followed him through the entrance he had
cleared.

Wielding the baton with two of his hands, Captain Goldman began
manipulating his word-box with the other two.  He was not addressing us,
however, but those who had come with him.

Three of his followers advanced to me with one of the machines, while
the remaining three conveyed a machine to the professor.  At once our
instruction in the art of mechanical speech began.

It is not my intention to burden the readers with the details of our
lessons, although a few remarks under this head may not be out of place.
As to the word-box itself, it had seven keys. This made it somewhat
difficult for a five-fingered creature to operate with any great degree
of fluency, although the professor did get so he could peg out his ideas
at a remarkable rate.

There are but six syllables in the Mercurial language, each syllable
being represented by a corresponding key.  The way these syllables were
fingered gave the words.  As they could be combined and repeated and
combined again, the vocabulary of the boxes was practically unlimited.
The syllable notes were of resonant quality and of such divergent timber
as to be quickly and easily recognized.  The syllable for Key 1 was
synonymous with our personal pronoun "I," and was the most assertive and
determined note in the whole gamut of the box.

The seventh key emitted a sound so utterly unlike the other sounds as to
be in a class by itself.  It was used for spacing between words, for
exclamatory purposes and for the audible expression of laughter and
grief.

It was likewise the expletive or swear-key; for these small egotists had
all the passions of other mortals, and Key 7 acted as a sort of safety
valve.  The manner in which the key was used gave it its versatility.

Day by day our lessons proceeded, the professor learning with a rapidity
that was marvelous.  He was well along in the polysyllables while I was
struggling with the basic tones and acquiring some facility in spacing
and in the expression of the feelings.

Our ears kept pace with our fingers, and in a fortnight the professor
was so eloquent with his word-box that he could now and then play off a
metaphor, or some other frill, to the great delight of himself and his
auditors.

Next to a wonderful jimmy invented by a cracksman named "Cricket"
Doniphan, whom I knew well, and who, at that period, was doing time in
Stillwater, I take off my hat to that Mercurial word-box as the most
marvelous contrivance ever evolved by a thinking mind.  I have a very
good memory, and when sufficiently proficient with the keys I practiced
by repeating passages from "Forty Ways of Cracking Safes," which, as
distinguished from "The Sandbagger's Manual," I considered my _chef
d'oeuvre_.  I could not discover that my terse English, faulty enough
though it was, lost anything in force from translation into the
Mercurial tongue.  (The word "tongue" is used with reservations, for, of
course, tongue that language was not.)

Difficulty was experienced in getting a suitable Mercurial equivalent
for the good English word "cracksman."  Finally, however, I hit upon
three quick touches of the swear-key, which made the word intelligible
in my own ears if not to any one's else.

Soon I began to observe a little throng gathering across my side of the
prison ring, listening intently as I practiced.  From day to day the
throng increased.

Over on the other side of the ring Professor Quinn was absorbed in
cutting all manner of scientific capers with his word-box.  "The
Mutability of Newtonian Law" formed his staple theme, and he was able to
put it through the keys with amazing variations.

But no crowd gathered to listen to the professor.  The Mercurials were
all on my side of the compound.  Thus it was clear to me that my brand
of science was more attractive to the little people than the
professor's.  While "The Mutability of Newtonian Law" languished for an
audience, "The Sandbagger's Manual" was fast acquiring one that taxed
the capacity of the word-box.

The professor, for a long time, had been so wrapped up in his attempt to
master the Mercurial language that he had paid little heed to me and my
efforts.  The attention my work was securing, however, finally caused
him to sit up and take notice.  Halting his weighty remarks, he laid
aside his talk machine, came over to my side of the circle, and stood
behind me, listening. The first I knew of his presence was the reaching
of two angry hands over my head and the snatching away of the instrument
on which I was, at that moment, reciting the ten rules for a cracksman's
success.

My audience was as greatly put out as I was myself.  While I was leaping
to my feet and whirling around, my listeners were clamoring on their
word-boxes for me to proceed.

Professor Quinn, white-faced and in a greater temper than I had ever
before seen him, held my talking apparatus over his head and seemed of a
mind to clash it down on the earth at his feet.

"I say, professor," I called restrainingly, "don't do anything rash."

"Mr. Munn," he gasped, his voice thick with suppressed emotion, "is my
confidence in you to be destroyed utterly?  I singled you out as one of
the worthiest of all those brought from Terra, and yet I find you busily
inculcating false ideas of personal property into the keen minds of
these Mercurials!  For shame, sir!  Would you demoralize this planet?
Would you turn these law-abiding people into thieves?"

"Professor," I answered, "your ideas and mine do not harmonize on this
matter of property rights."

"While I admit, Mr. Munn," he answered, "that conditions on our own
planet in a measure condoned your actions, yet I maintain that you have
no right to air your ideas in Njambai.  Here the conditions are of an
altogether different sort. So far as I have been able to learn, this orb
has not fallen under the noxious spell of the monopolists.  You have no
excuse for instructing the Mercurials in the alpha and omega of your
contemptible profession."

"Contemptible?" I repeated.  "That is a hard term, professor.  Besides,
they seem to be fond of the instruction.  Everybody listens to me, while
you haven't had so much as a corporal's guard to enjoy that astronomical
stuff you have been playing off on your concertina."

"Your line, perhaps, is more attractive than mine," and the shadow of a
smile curled about his thin lips, "for the notion of getting something
for nothing has a direct appeal to every thinking being.  On the other
hand, my thesis on 'The Mutability of Newtonian Law' requires profound
thought before it can be assimilated.  Yet, be that as it may, I shall
not allow you to degrade these people with the unworthy ideas that have
been coming from your word-box.  I can destroy this machine, sir, and I
shall do so unless you promise never again to let an ignoble thought
come out of it.  What do you say?"

"Your mere command is enough, professor," I replied.  "It is not
necessary to couple it with a threat."

His face softened, and he at once returned to me my talk-producer.

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Munn," said he.  "I have confidence in your
word, and know that I can trust you."

Thereupon he went back to his own side of the ring, and I applied myself
assiduously to undoing any evil my ill-considered practicing may have
wrought.  I told the Mercurials that my utterances had been in the
nature of a fairy story, and I gave the lie to my convictions by
declaring that the reasoning, as in all fairy tales, was unsound.

From that hour my audiences vanished.  The professor, although his talk
was profound and somewhat wearying, seemed to the Mercurials as more
worth while, and they flocked to hear him. We began acquiring a
knowledge of the country, and of its people and institutions, with our
very first lesson.  In two weeks we had gathered most of the information
that follows:

Their planet they called Njambai; their country was Baigol.  Baigol was
one of four kingdoms comprising the under-world of Njambai. The other
three kingdoms were Baijinkz, Baigossh, and Baigadd--all derived from
the root word "bai," signifying planet.

There were only two places on Njambai where water was able to collect
and defy the absorbing power of the sun.  These places were at the two
ends of the planet's axis, corresponding to the polar regions of Earth.
Here there were seas feeding rivers that ran through the under-world and
irrigated the fields.

The kingdoms of Baijinkz and Baigossh lay on the shores of these seas,
the former at the north and the latter at the south.  They were the only
kingdoms on the outer shell of Njambai, and levied tribute from the
interior kingdoms of Baigol and Baigadd for water rights.

The distribution of light and heat throughout the nether kingdoms was by
a system of gigantic reflectors, located at either end of a radius drawn
through the equator.  There was one stupendous reflector on either side
of the planet, measuring no less than twenty _spatli_ across--a _spatl_
being the equivalent of a geographical mile.

These reflectors, we were told, followed the sun as it moved through the
heavens, and reflected heat and light to countless other reflectors
ingeniously placed to acquire and radiate the solar energy.

The heat thus secured was further intensified by the planet's shell,
which, forming the vault of the nether kingdoms, constantly diffused
warmth.

The king was Golbai, the nine hundred and twenty-fifth of his line.  The
name of the pompous gentleman whom the professor had christened "Captain
Goldman" was Ocou.

Names of people, places, and things, as here given, are simply a rude
equivalent as nearly as can be rendered into English.

From my wording the astute reader will probably discover more than the
six basic syllables of the Baigol language.  The flexibility of the
word-box will account for this, and the inconsistency is only seeming
and not real.

Baigol had one half the inner sphere, and Baigadd the other half.  These
two kingdoms were not on the best of terms, owing to a wretched piece of
business carried out by Gaddbai, king of the other country, which will
be adverted to later.

The four kingdoms were connected by a railway, if such the mode of
transportation could be called.  The roadbed was a "V"-shaped groove,
and the wheels of the cars were solid spheres with axles pierced through
their diameter.  On these axles the carriages were supported.

For a people so wonderfully progressive the Baigols were strangely
backward in their motive power, their trains being dragged by
hand--relays of the small creatures taking them in charge.

Owing to the diminished force of gravity, large weights were easily
handled, and a fair rate of speed was developed by the train haulers.
But it was a very primitive method of transportation.

The trunk line connecting the nether kingdoms was known as the Baigadd
and Baigol Interplanetary System.  When two weeks of our enforced stay
in Baigol had passed, a startling rumor was wafted from the word-boxes
of the other kingdom to the effect that the management of the line had
secured a wonderful new traction power of tremendous speed and unlimited
endurance.

The kingdom of Baigol was agog with excitement, for the president,
vice-president, and board of directors of the Interplanetary were to
take a trial spin over the road in a special equipped with their new
motive power.

We had not yet been allowed to leave the mysterious circle which
imprisoned us, but we could stand erect, and so overtop the fields and
houses that we were able to see the railway station.

Billiard balls came rolling in from every direction, clustering about
the right of way and clambering to roof tops and other elevations that
would afford an unobstructed view of the centre of excitement.

At last, far off, the professor and I heard a thunderous shout:

"Toot, t-o-o-t!  Ting-a-ling-a-ling!"

No word-box could have been the source of that echoing cry.  The
professor gave a gasp and clutched my arm convulsively.

"Do you recognize that voice?" he asked hoarsely.  "Merciful powers, Mr.
Munn, how could such a thing happen?  Look!  Look!"

Over the fields beyond the city, leaping along at fifty-foot bounds and
dragging behind him a train of queer-looking cars crowded with officials
of the system, came no less a person than Emmet Gilhooly!

The professor threw himself at the barrier that hedged us round.  He
could not pass, although he struggled frantically.

"Take it coolly, professor," I urged, grasping and holding him upright.

"But this is outrageous, Mr. Munn!" he cried. "Poor Gilhooly!  Is _he_
the new traction power the other kingdom has been talking about?  How
does he happen to be here?  And why are they treating him like that?
This must be stopped! Where's my word-box?"

His eyes swept the ground.  Glimpsing his talking machine he dived for
it and began working the keys like mad.

No one paid any attention to the furious language that went up under his
frenzied fingers, however.  Leviathan in harness absorbed the entire
attention of all the Baigols, and with another "Toot, toot!
Ting-a-ling-a-ling!" the railway magnate galloped out of sight.

It was a sad spectacle indeed.  I was almost as completely unmanned by
it as was Professor Quinn.




                              *CHAPTER X.*

                       *HOW WE WERE CATALOGUED.*


Let it not be supposed that we had given no thought to our companions in
exile during our two weeks' probation in Baigol.  The professor and I
had talked of them frequently, wondering whether they were alive or
dead, and, if alive, where they were and what they were doing.

Our story had been punched out of our word-boxes for the benefit of the
Baigols, but had not seemed to make much of an impression on Ocou, or on
others who came to see us.

Now the sight of Gilhooly would add corroborative detail, and we harped
on that key until Ocou promised to communicate directly with King
Golbai, and find out what his wishes were in the matter.

As for the professor, he wanted to go roaming the four kingdoms looking
for the other exiles, first visiting Baigadd and appropriating the
motive power of the B.&B.I. system.

The most we could get from Ocou was a promise to learn his majesty's
pleasure in our affairs; and while we were abiding the king's decision,
other events took place which were of prime importance to us.

Ocou had a queer-looking machine borne to our "home circle," which was
the humorous fashion in which the professor referred to our prison ring.

The machine was an upright shaft measuring some three feet in height.
To its base was attached a golden cord several yards long and
terminating in a small silver disk.

Professor Quinn and I were consumed with curiosity while this
contrivance was being set up and made ready.  We put a question through
our word-boxes, but were only smiled at mysteriously.

Presently I was made to sit down, Turk fashion, while one of Ocou's
attendants came to me and passed the silver disk over my head.  One end
of Ocou's baton had a black tip, the other a white.

As the disk passed over my head, Ocou rested the white tip of the baton
on the pedestal. Instantly a slide flew out of the shaft's top bearing a
painted ideograph.

The professor and I were not "up" in the Baigol ideographs, and were
very much surprised at the actions of Ocou and his companions when they
looked at the slide.  They recoiled, stared at me suspiciously, and
moved about me with caution.

I grabbed my word-box.

"What's the matter, anyhow?" I asked.

"We have just discovered that you are a robber," said Ocou.

"I am no robber here," I answered, "no matter what I was in the place I
came from."

"Once a robber always a robber," retorted Ocou, "unless you touch the
Bolla."

"Well, well!" murmured the professor, rubbing his hands delightedly over
the pedestal and giving little heed to Ocou's remark.  "What do you call
this machine, Mr. Ocou?"

"That, sir," Ocou replied, "is a character indexograph.  We find it very
useful in cataloguing the natural tendencies of subjects of the realm."

He sighed.

"The number of indexographs in the kingdom is limited, and they have all
been working overtime of late.  This is the first opportunity we have
had to use one on you and your friend. Now, professor, if you will
oblige me."

The professor dropped down, the disk gliding over his bald head, and
another ideograph shot into sight.

"Ah," murmured Ocou, reading the sign: 'philanthropist, scientist, a man
to counsel with!'  You'll do, sir; but your friend!"--and he shook his
head sadly as he dropped his talking machine.

"I suppose," said I, watching Ocou and his attendants make off with the
indexograph, "that I shall be kept within this circle indefinitely?"

"Let us hope not, Mr. Munn," rejoined the professor, laying a kindly
hand on my arm. "Rather let us hope that you will experience a moral
rejuvenation, so that when the indexograph is tried on you at another
time it will show a different result."

"I wish they would try that thing on J. Archibald Meigs!" I exclaimed.
"The Baigols would find, I think, that I have no monopoly on that
particular ideograph."

The professor laughed quietly.

"Let us see what comes to us now after we have been catalogued," said
he.  "I think they have simply been waiting to make trial of our
tendencies before allowing us to pass out of this enchanted circle."

Ocou came back in a couple of hours, carrying a roll of parchment in
addition to his baton.  He came alone.

"Gentlemen," said he in his mechanical way, "your names have been
entered and tagged.  In accordance with the information secured through
the indexograph, a task has been set for you. Perform that task
faithfully and you are to have the freedom of the realm."

"What is the task, Mr. Ocou?" inquired the professor.

"You are to restore the sacred Bolla to his majesty, the king of
Baigol."

"And what is the Bolla?"

"It is the stone of happiness and peace.  Merely to touch it restores a
mortal to health, physical and moral.  Crime is a contagious disease,
and since the Bolla has been lost to us and untouched of any in the
kingdom, lawlessness has become widespread."

"Where is the Bolla?"

"It was loaned some seasons ago to the king of Baigadd, who now refuses
to return it.  As Baigadd is a more powerful country than ours, it would
be an act of destruction for us to make war for the stone.  So our king
has graciously decreed that Mr. Munn shall proceed to the neighboring
kingdom and steal the Bolla, taking you along with him, professor, as
adviser and general aide."

Nothing could have pleased us more.

As I have stated elsewhere in this narrative, stealing property from
some one to whom that property does not rightfully belong can hardly be
accounted a crime; and when property thus purloined is restored to its
rightful owner, the theft is transformed into a high and noble act.

Such a task filled me with enthusiasm, and I was ready to go forth among
the four-handed enemies of Baigol and demonstrate my abilities. The
professor, thinking of Gilhooly, would have welcomed any undertaking
which carried him into the neighboring realm.

Ocou told us that the king of Baigadd was a very grasping individual,
although he was very careful to abstain from touching the Bolla.  Had he
touched the wonderful stone, so great was its power that he would have
experienced a change of heart immediately, and could not have shirked
returning the property to its rightful owner.

King Gaddbai was very wealthy, according to Ocou, drawing his revenues
principally from the kaka industry, of which he had a monopoly.  Ka was
a fibrous plant from which kaka, the only cloth known in the four
kingdoms, was made.

This plant would grow nowhere else than in Baigadd, so that the people
of the other three kingdoms had to go to Baigadd for their kirtles.
Every time the king of Baigadd suffered a pecuniary backset, or donated
a large sum to charity, he recouped his exchequer by boosting the price
of kirtles.

There was a time, Ocou declared, when all the inhabitants of Njambai
went clothed from neck to heels, but wardrobes dwindled as the price of
cloth rose.  Very few people could now afford the luxury of a full suit;
and since the upper half of the body could not be covered with a
garment, it was covered with paint--the paint being usually of a color
to match or harmonize with the kirtle.

A variety of black kaka was the only serviceable material to be had for
writing purposes, ideographs being traced on its surface with white ink.
We were told how gentlemen once wealthy, but who had fallen upon evil
days, had drawn upon their libraries for wearing apparel.

Books of poetry, essays, travel, fiction, all yielded their leaves to
the making of various garments, thereby clothing the body as comfortably
as they had already clothed the mind.

What could be more apropos than a morning gown inscribed with choice
ideographic sonnets? Or a student's robe begemmed with the brilliant wit
of an essayist?  Or a traveling costume bearing an account of some
voyage of discovery?

The only fault to be found with this arrangement was that such clothing
advertised the wearer's poverty; and in Njambai, as in Terra, the pride
of wealth was most pronounced.

King Gaddbai, it appeared, had so enhanced the cost of black kaka that
literature lay languishing.  Writers had not the requisite material on
which to inscribe their thoughts, and the four kingdoms were threatened
with a blight of ignorance.

From what we heard of King Gaddbai, the professor and I were not
disposed to regard him very favorably.  He seemed a greedy and
unscrupulous person, more than ready to swell his coffers by trampling
on the rights and the welfare of others.

The parchment roll brought by Ocou was a map, showing us how to direct
our steps in order to reach Baigadd.  Ocou also delivered to us a royal
banner, direct from the hands of King Golbai, which was to procure us
favor en route and entitle us to be received and cared for as
ambassadors when we reached the other kingdom.

The professor asked for a baton, but this was denied him.  The Baigols
feared, I suppose, to trust such a terrible weapon in the hands of
aliens.

The professor's pleasure over the prospect of being allowed to leave our
prison ring and journey in search of our friends while seeking the Bolla
was marred somewhat by Ocou's revelations.

He had hoped to find Njambai free of monopoly and greed, and yet here
was King Gaddbai boosting the price of kaka whenever the whim struck
him; and he had hoped to find a people where poverty was unknown, and
yet he discovered how the educated were obliged to raid their libraries
in order to cover their nakedness.

"Human nature, professor," I expounded, "is the same all over the
universe.  If a man finds himself in a position to gouge his neighbor,
he is as apt to do it on Jupiter, or Mercury, as he is on Terra."

"I am grievously discouraged," he sighed.

"Furthermore," said I, "my practicing on the word-box could not have
caused the havoc you imagined it might.  Ocou tells us that, since the
Bolla has been taken from Baigol, lawlessness has been widespread, and
increasing."

"Your rehearsal of the false sentiments contained in your book may have
helped on the lawlessness.  I am more sorry than I know how to express
in finding, among this gifted people, some of the worst elements of our
own civilization. And my regret is the more pronounced on the score of
Popham, Meigs, Gilhooly, and Markham."

"How do they figure in your disappointment?" I queried.

"Can't you understand?" he cried.  "I had the same hopes of them that I
had of you.  Suppose we found on this planet not a trace of monopoly or
greed; suppose we had found here a peace-loving, justice-serving people,
with plenty to eat and wear, needing no laws to govern them, and all
happy and contented.  The moral effect upon you and the rest of our
friends would have been uplifting.  You would have seen, admired and
coveted the same conditions for our own orb.  A change would have been
worked in you, and for the better.

"That," he went on passionately, "is the full measure of my
disappointment.  So far from finding such conditions, Mr. Munn, you are
immediately catalogued as a thief, and given a task commensurate with
your supposed abilities--a task or robbery!"

"But a righteous robbery," I averred.  "Recovering stolen property and
returning it to the rightful owner is a meritorious act."

"We must call it so," he answered bitterly, "since so much hangs upon
our joint attempt. But what a lesson for these poor, benighted people!"

"The ability to get the stone is beyond them, and they call upon us," I
pursued.  "Their action is flattering, rather than otherwise.  If we
succeed, it means that we shall stand even higher in their estimation."

"We, who ought to know better, are making ourselves living examples of
successful thievery."

"The end justifies the means, professor."

"We must strive to think so."

"I suppose Gilhooly has been catalogued, the same as you and I, and that
he was found to stand so high in traction affairs that they----"

"Let us not dwell upon poor Gilhooly."

"He is just where he ought to be," I declared. "I only wish he had a
glimmering of sense still left him in order that he might realize his
position.  The effect would be salutary."

This frank expression of my views rather startled Professor Quinn.  He
walked back and forth, his hands clasped behind him and his head bowed
in deep thought.

"The indexograph is a most remarkable invention," he finally observed,
"and would be of inestimable value on our native planet.  The detection
of crime would be an easy matter, and on the testimony of the
indexograph alone justice could be meted out without the intermediate
application of the courts.  Furthermore, justice would never miscarry."

"I hope," I exclaimed in a panic, "that I shall never live to see the
day when the police officials of Terra are equipped with indexographs!
It would prove a knockout blow for my profession. Every citizen would be
tested, and his proclivities jotted down in black and white."

"That would mean," expanded the professor, "that crime would be
relegated to the limbo of lost arts!  Before a lawless act could be
committed, the artist in crime would be placed where the deed would be
impossible."

"That's the way I figure it out, professor."

"But that is not the least of the indexograph's merits.  Children could
be duly catalogued, and, if they showed criminal tendencies, could be
sent to institutions for proper moral training.  The inclination of the
young toward certain trades could be learned, and they could be given
instruction along the line which would best serve their future careers.
There would not be so many failures in life, Mr. Munn."

"Perhaps not," I answered stubbornly, "but I still maintain that the
overturning of our customary standards would land us in chaos."

"Tut!" he exclaimed half angrily.  "Some day, I trust, your angle of
vision will change materially.  Until that time, Mr. Munn, it would be
well for you to repress your peculiar views, for, you are going to be
sorry for them."

Just three weeks to a day from the time we reached Baigol we fared forth
from the royal city, bent upon the performance of our mission. We were
armed only with our word-boxes, the king's standard, and a firm
determination to achieve our liberty by securing the Bolla, no matter
what the cost.

Our journey led us through a pleasant country, level for the most part
and covered with irrigated fields growing the white blossoms which the
Baigols gathered and cooked for food.  The king's will, as made known by
the banner, secured us rest by the way.

I have not considered it necessary to refer to the fact that there was
light and darkness throughout the kingdoms of Baigol and Baigadd during
each period of twenty-four hours and three minutes.  Light and heat were
sent through the under-world by means of the two huge reflectors already
mentioned, and when the sun passed from the heavens of course night
fell.

But the climate was at all times delightful. We were armored against the
temperature, and could not ourselves experience the equable air, yet our
eyes and ears assured us of its presence, and this proved another
surprise for the professor.

By day we traveled and by night we rested, often covering as many as
five hundred _spatli_ in a single day.  Four days, at that rate, were to
carry us to the capital of the other kingdom.

I gathered much wisdom from the professor as we journeyed, and there
were two of our conversations which made a deep impression on me.  The
first had to do with the reflectors that turned the sun's rays into the
bowels of the planet.

"Without the sun, Mr. Munn," remarked Quinn, indicating the white fields
beside us with a gesture of the hand, "there could be no vegetable life
in Baigol.  Those fields must be quickened to life by the solar rays or
they would be as barren as the outer shell of the planet.  Finite
ingenuity may always be trusted to accommodate itself to its
environment.  I can set the astronomers of Terra right on one mystery,
at least."

"What mystery do you refer to, professor?" I asked.

"Why," he answered, "a luminous point has been detected by earthly
telescopes on the disk of Mercury.  The phenomenon has been explained as
a huge mountain, whose top reflects the sun; yet it is only one of the
great reflectors fabricated by these ingenious people."

Then at another time:

"Professor," said I, "have you made any discoveries relative to that
powerful little weapon which the Baigols know so well how to use?"

"A few," he answered.  "The baton is called a zetbai, and its ammunition
is drawn from a peculiar ingredient of the atmosphere.  The white tip of
the zetbai furnishes the destructive force, while the black tip combats
and nullifies it.  The inhabitants of this orb, Mr. Munn, have a weapon
of such awful power in the zetbai that a dozen of their number, armed
with the batons, could descend upon our own globe and devastate it.

"Well is it for Terra that means are lacking for interplanetary
communication; otherwise the Baigols and their fellow-creatures might
prove the Napoleons of the universe.  Such a contingency is terrible to
contemplate."

"Had the zetbai anything to do with that invisible power that stayed us
from crossing the circular wall?"

"It had everything to do with that.  An unseen barrier was placed around
us--a barrier of zet, drawn from the atmosphere by these Baigols and
made to serve their ends.  Unlike powder and ball, which destroy
themselves in creating destruction, zet is indestructible; it can be
regathered into the zetbai and used over and over again. The resisting
medium, controlled by the black tip of the baton, is alone powerful to
annul the energy of the white tip."

These were the points that impressed me. Another which we discussed, but
which did not appeal to me as logical or accurate, had to do with the
object of our quest--the Bolla.

"With all due respect to Mr. Ocou," said I, "he was certainly talking
moonshine when he described the Bolla."

"I would not go so far as to say he was talking moonshine, Mr. Munn,"
the professor answered.  "There are stranger things in Heaven, Earth,
and Mercury than are dreamed of in our philosophy.  Take yourself, for
instance.  You are a sick man----"

"Never sick in my life," I declared.

"I mean morally," went on Quinn.  "If crime is a disease, you will
admit, I think, that you are sick."

"No," I averred, "I am healthy in mind and body.  I take no stock in Mr.
Ocou's assertions--which ought to prove that I am mentally sound, I take
it.  But we'll get this palladium, just the same, for our liberty
depends on it."

Toward noon of the fourth day, as we drew near the boundaries of
Baigadd, we entered a rocky and uneven country, the well-defined road we
had been following cutting and circling through the low hills.  When we
were well in among the bowlders a frantic shout reached us from around a
bend in the road a few _spatli_ ahead.

"That was a cry in our own tongue, Mr. Munn!" exclaimed the professor,
coming to a halt.  "Did you not hear it?  It was certainly a call for
help."

"You are right, sir," I answered.  "That was a lusty English yell, if I
ever heard one."

"It was given by one of our friends, of course."

"No doubt; it is not hard to distinguish a human voice from the bleat of
one of these Baigol word-boxes.  Possibly the new motive power of the
B.&B. Interplanetary has rebelled and is fleeing this way."

"No," answered the professor excitedly, "I do not think that shout came
from Gilhooly.  It was----  Ah, Mr. Meigs!"

At that instant, J. Archibald Meigs came bounding into sight around the
bend.  But he was not the well-groomed, richly appareled Mr. Meigs of
Earth and the steel car.  His only garment was a kirtle.

He must have been surprised at seeing us, but so great was his fear that
he did not show it. Panic left no room for any other emotion.

"Quinn!  Munn!  Save me--save me from the soldiers!"

A few dozen prodigious leaps brought him trembling to our vicinity, and
he fell exhausted to his knees.




                             *CHAPTER XI.*

                      *THE DILEMMA OF MR. MEIGS.*


"My, my!" cried the professor.  "What has happened, Mr. Meigs?  How is
it that we find you in this--er--forlorn condition?"

"I'm a wretched man!" wailed Meigs, grabbing the professor's knees in
the stress of his emotion.  "You have got to save me, Professor Quinn.
It was you who brought me to this awful planet, and if I am slain my
blood will be upon your head!"

That was Meigs for you.  Even in his dire extremity he did not forget to
heap censure upon the head of our great savant.

"You are not going to be slain," said the professor confidently.

"But these creatures are as venomous as centipedes!" murmured Meigs,
suffering himself to be lifted erect by the professor.  "Horrors! There
they come now.  Oh, this is too much, too much!"

Meigs got behind the professor.  Turning our eyes toward the bend, we
saw a detachment of the Baigadd army just hurling itself into sight.

We had made some acquaintance with military affairs in Baigol.

Soldiers, as may be surmised, were armed with zetbais, but word-boxes
were kept out of the ranks.  Only officers carried talking machines,
matters being ordered on the principle that privates were to hear and
obey.  Each soldier wielded two zetbais--one with each pair of
hands--thereby enormously increasing his capacity for destruction.

The fighting force of Baigol, we had been informed, although organized
on a smaller scale, was equipped and maneuvred exactly as was the
military arm of Baigadd.

The detachment approaching at a double-quick in pursuit of Meigs was, as
we afterward found, a company of Gaddbaizets, or royal guards. They
numbered fifty, wore yellow kirtles, had the torso gilded, and were
commanded by a single officer carrying nothing but a word-box.

The sight of the professor and myself caused the Gaddbaizets to come to
an abrupt halt. They had undoubtedly heard of us, but they were far from
expecting to encounter us there at that time.

The officer was the first to recover his wits, and approached the place
where we were standing, holding his talking machine over his head and
punching its keys vigorously.  His first words were a command to the
soldiers: "Hold your zetbais and make no move against these fierce
colossi until you get further orders from me!"

Then, to us:

"Behemoths!  Whence come you and why are you protecting the monster in
the red kirtle?"

Meigs, it could easily be seen, was not on familiar terms with the
word-boxes.  So far as he was concerned, the captain's words fell on
deaf ears.

"We are from Baigol," said the professor, giving an amiable twist to his
words by a deft use of Key 7, "and come on an errand from the king of
that country.  This gentleman is a friend of ours----"

"A friend!" screeched the captain's machine. "He is a thief and has
stolen a hundred djins of kaka from our sovereign storehouse."

I thrilled an amused laugh on the seventh key of my own machine.

"How do you know he is a thief?" I asked. "Did you try the indexograph
on him?"

"I'll do the talking, Mr. Munn," said the professor in our own tongue;
then added to the officer: "There must be some mistake, captain. This
gentleman has a very good reputation and would not commit a theft, such
as you describe."

"He bears the proof of it upon his person," answered the captain.  "It
is the kirtle."

Now, a djin is a unit of measurement and corresponds to the inch of our
system; from which it follows that Meigs stood convicted of stealing
about eight feet of red kaka--enough to make kirtles for a score of the
Baigadds.

"What are you harping about?" asked Meigs.

"They say you are a thief, Mr. Meigs," said I.

"Thief!" he blustered, glaring at the captain over the professor's
shoulder.  "I deny it, sir, I deny it!"

"He says you stole that kirtle you have on," I continued.

"A man has a right to clothe himself as well as he may," answered Meigs,
aggrieved.  "I do not count that theft.  The country should see that a
man is provided with a respectable covering."

This was too good an opportunity for the professor to let slip.

"Suffer your mind to drift back to your own planet, sir," said he.  "It
is your opinion that our government owes every poor man a suit of
clothes?"

J. Archibald Meigs cringed under the blow. It was a thrust at his
clothing trust, and it found the weak point in his armor.

"Circumstances are different here," he mumbled.

"In some ways, yes; in other ways, no.  King Gaddbai is the monopolist
of this planet.  He controls the kaka output and charges for it
accordingly."

The captain of the royal guard was growing impatient.

"If you are here on an errand from the king of Baigol," said he, "we
shall be glad to escort you to the capital--but not until you have
surrendered the giant who stole the king's property."

"Take us to his majesty," returned the professor, "and we will explain
everything in a satisfactory manner."

But this the captain would not do, and he became so threatening that we
retreated behind a barrier of bowlders.

"Display the banner, Mr. Munn," said the professor, and I held up the
royal standard so that the captain could not help but see it.  His one
eye gleamed insolently, and he came as near swearing as the seventh key
of his word-box would allow.

"Deliver up the thief," he ordered, "or I will command my men to
annihilate you with their zetbais."

It was certainly a critical situation.  I had already had a slight
experience with the overpowering properties of zet and didn't care for
further acquaintance with it.  Meigs was nothing to me.  He would have
stripped the coat from a poor man's back, if he could have had his way
on Earth, and it afforded me secret pleasure to see him hoisted by his
own petard.

The trust magnate did not fail to take note of the war-like movements of
the soldiers.

"Can't you do anything to save me, professor?" he pleaded.

"We shall not give you up," answered Quinn firmly.  "Can you think of
any way, Mr. Munn, whereby we can extricate ourselves from this
difficulty?"

I have a quick mind, if I do say it, and a happy thought presented
itself on the spur of the instant.  Stooping, I picked up a stone; then,
raising myself, I let the missile fly straight at the captain.

His shoulder-arms still held the word-box above his head, and the stone
smashed against it and carried it away.  It was rather neatly done, for
the captain himself was left untouched.

"Bravo!" cried the professor.  "You drew the fangs of the enemy by that
trick, Mr. Munn. You have rendered the captain mute, and his men cannot
act without orders."

I had already figured this out in my mind, and it was presently proved
that I had not gone far from the mark.  The captain recovered the
word-box and attempted to use it, but its mechanism was so disarranged
that the order to attack became a confused jumble that seemed to sound a
retreat.

The whole company whirled and fled, their leader following and
gesticulating wildly and helplessly with his arms.  Meigs was saved for
the present, and he should have thanked me for it--but he did not.

Seating himself on a bowlder, he gazed pensively down at the red kirtle.

"This is what I call the irony of fate," said he in a morose tone.  "And
then, on top of it all, to be called a thief!"

He leaned his bare elbows on his knees and dropped his face in his
hands.

"How did this happen, Mr. Meigs?" asked the professor gently.

"Happen!" cried Meigs, lifting his head with a jerk and glaring at
Quinn.  "It would never have happened but for you!"

"Have you seen Gilhooly?" went on the professor, ignoring the reproach.

"Poor Gilhooly!" sighed Meigs.  "He has become a power in the traction
interests of the country.  The last I saw of him he was hauling trains
throughout the kingdom."

"We know that much already.  How about Popham and Markham?"

"Alas!" groaned Meigs.  "Popham is working like a galley-slave in a coal
mine; and Markham--well, these little fiends are slowly starving him to
death.  All Markham does is to wander about the kingdom with a plate and
a paddle begging food enough to keep body and soul together. Think of
it!  And the great Augustus Popham, owner of a controlling interest in
all the great anthracite and bituminous fields of Earth, delving in the
mines of this planet--no better than a two-dollar-a-day miner!"

"Coal fields!" I exclaimed.  "What do they need of coal in these
underground kingdoms?"

"They use the coal in the kingdoms of Baijinkz and Baigossh, which are
situated at the poles," explained the professor.  "During the long
nights in those countries a certain degree of cold must prevail.
But"--and here Quinn turned again to Meigs--"tell us what happened to
you and the other two gentlemen during the storm which separated us."

"We managed to regain the car," replied Meigs.  "We could not get in, of
course, because you had the key, but we hung to the latticework at the
windows.  I am a little hazy as to what happened after that, but I think
the car must have been picked up by a terrific gust and thrown to the
bottom of that crater in the volcano."

"Ah!" murmured the professor, looking at me. "You remember, Mr. Munn, I
told you I feared something of the kind would happen."

I nodded.

"Proceed, Mr. Meigs," added the professor. "This is all intensely
interesting.  Was the car seriously damaged?"

"I haven't seen the car," resumed Meigs.  "A hiatus followed the blowing
away of the castle, and when I opened my eyes again I was a prisoner in
the hands of a legion of those one-eyed creatures.  For two weeks I was
kept confined--an object of curiosity for the whole kingdom, if I could
judge from the way the little imps flocked to stare at me.

"After a time I was led off to a place where I joined Popham and
Markham.  Need I tell you how affecting that meeting was?  Popham shed
tears, and both Markham and myself were nearly unmanned.

"Our captors had some sort of a contrivance consisting of a small shaft
and cord.  One end of the cord was put to Markham's head and a slide
flew up on the end of the shaft.  Then Markham was led off, given a
plate and paddle and cast adrift.

"Popham was the next one to have the queer machine tried on him.  When
he was removed my turn came."

Meigs wrung his hands despairingly.

"After the storm," he continued with an effort, "my costume was not as
complete as I would have had it, but those impudent creatures denuded me
still further.  In self-defense I was forced to steal this red cloth and
run for my life.  Oh, it was terrible!  Woe is me that I should ever
have lived to see this day!"

"Some good may come out of this unfortunate experience, Mr. Meigs," said
the professor.

"Good!" almost shouted Meigs.  "Sir, you express yourself strangely.  Is
it good to have a man used to such luxury as I have been fleeing through
these rocky underground hills merely because he committed theft in order
to retain his self-respect?  Have a care, sir!  Do not think for a
moment that I am under any misapprehension as to the real cause of my
sorry situation."

"The king of this country is evidently a man of a humorous and practical
turn," observed Professor Quinn after a little thought.  "The
indexograph made him familiar with the natural bent of you three
gentlemen and he is seeking to show you the error of your ways.  On
Earth you were at one end of a trust; here you are placed at the other
end.  Really, I think the experience will prove most wholesome."

J. Archibald Meigs stared at the speaker with distended eyes.

"Is it possible," said he, "that your brain has been turned, like
Gilhooly's?"

"Nonsense!" I struck in.  "The professor's head is as clear as a bell.
He's got the right of this thing, Meigs.  The king of Baigadd is making
you take a little of the medicine you measured out in such large doses
on the other planet."

"You are both crazy," snarled Meigs.  "I never stripped a man to his
hide and threw him out in the cold world--as the king of this country
has done to me, in a figurative sense."

"You don't know how much evil you have done," said Quinn, an expression
on his face similar to the one I had seen when he jerked the lever and
shot us into the unknown.  "You have taken your pound of flesh, Mr.
Meigs, but are now under the heel of a monopoly yourself."

"Stuff!" cried Meigs.  "We will talk no longer about a matter in which
you display such poor judgment.  Although I have told you my story, I
have heard little of yours.  Am I to conclude that you and Munn
purposely cut loose from myself and my friends?  After bringing us to
this miserable planet did you have the heart willfully to abandon us?"

"Not at all, Meigs," said the professor hastily.

I wondered if Meigs had forgotten all about the attempt he and his
friends had made to abandon the professor and me?  He was one of the
most inconsistent men I have ever encountered.

"Like yourself and the others, Mr. Meigs," continued the professor, "Mr.
Munn and I were taken prisoners----"

"But you were not treated with the same barbarity as the rest of us,"
burst out Meigs, his small mind finding even that a cause for temper.
"You, who engineered the plot, and plunged us all into these terrific
difficulties, escape the consequences.  What is that banner?"

"We are under the protection of the ruler of the neighboring kingdom of
Baigol.  That is the royal standard."

"Ah," said Meigs bitterly, "you are even received at court--you and a
professed thief--while Markham, Popham, Gilhooly, and I are no more than
outcasts!  Is there no such thing as justice, even on this disgusting
planet?  Look at me!  _Look at me!_"

His final request for us to look at him was a frantic wail.  He yanked
savagely at his kirtle, and twisted his bare feet around in fearsome
dejection.

"We are looking at you, Mr. Meigs," observed the professor quietly.

"Do you find any pleasure in the spectacle? Does not my situation arouse
even a spark of pity?  I do not ask Munn for his sympathy, but you,
Professor Quinn, although criminally careless in evolving plans and
carrying them out, are a scientist, and you must have a heart."

"My heart is wrung with your misfortunes," replied the professor gently,
"but I realize that desperate diseases require desperate remedies."

"What disease are you referring to," snapped Meigs, suddenly changing
his tack, "and what remedy?"

"The disease that afflicts our common country, and which you would deny
and ridicule were I even to name it.  The remedy, too, you would
consider no remedy at all, but a useless infliction of discomfort and
mental anguish.  What you are undergoing, Mr. Meigs, is not accidental,
but providential.  The workings of fate are as marvelous as they are
effective.  Patience a little, and we shall see what we shall see."

"This is no time for oracular remarks!" scowled Meigs.  "These
four-handed, one-eyed demons are forcing Gilhooly, Markham, Popham, and
me steadily toward destruction. Gilhooly, daft as he is, is pulling his
heart out on their ugly little transportation system; Markham is
galloping from place to place pounding his paddle against his dish and
begging a few morsels of food; Popham is working like a galley-slave,
and his wages, already insufficient to give him the necessary food he
requires for his heart-breaking labor, are being systematically cut
down; as for me, the army of Baigadd is at my heels.  Baigadd!" and, in
his extreme discouragement, Meigs gave vent to a wild, mirthless laugh.
"Baigadd and Baigol!  They sound like expletives from our own good
planet, but altogether too mild to express the state of my feelings."

"Be calm," adjured the professor, with an apprehensive look at me.

"Calm!" echoed Meigs brokenly.  "I shall be as mad as Gilhooly if this
keeps up much longer."  He started forward with a truculent air.  "What
are you going to do for me, Quinn?" he cried. "How are you going to get
me out of this fix? Those infernal little soldiers went away, but
they'll come back again.  Then what?"

"We are here in the role of ambassadors," answered the professor,
"and----"

"Munn an ambassador!" sneered Meigs, drawing away from me.

"And, as such, we are entitled to some courtesy at the hands of King
Baigadd.  I feel quite sure that, when the higher authorities understand
you are my friend, they will be lenient in their treatment of you."

"That is rather a vague supposition on which to ground a man's hopes of
life or death," muttered Meigs.

"It is all we can fall back on, Mr. Meigs. There are but six of us on
this small planet, and we must make the inhabitants our friends.  If we
do not, annihilation will overtake the lot of us."

"We were fools ever to land on Mercury in the first place," pursued
Meigs, still wild and unreasoning.

He stamped with his bare foot to emphasize his anger, and a sharp stone
unexpectedly gave point to it.  With a howl of pain he caught his foot
in his hands.

I have never been called particularly hard-hearted, but somehow I took a
measure of enjoyment out of all this.  However, I had the grace to turn
my head and conceal the smile.

"You must be careful, Mr. Meigs," warned the professor.  "Sit down and
rest yourself."

"Rest!" fumed Meigs, "just as though such a thing were possible!  I am
one of the miserable victims of your duplicity, and if I could have
recourse to the law of our planet for about an hour, I would soon put
you where you belong."

"Be sensible," I struck in, perhaps ill-advisedly. "You act like a
whipped schoolboy, Meigs."

"I'll hear nothing from you," he cried, glaring at me.

"As I was saying, Mr. Meigs," proceeded the professor, "Mr. Munn and I,
although we appear to be free, are, nevertheless, virtual prisoners of
the king of Baigol.  We are being sent to Baigadd upon an important
mission, and on our success or failure depends, very largely----"

"That will do," interrupted the broker irritably; "I don't care to hear
an account of your experiences, Quinn.  It is evident, I think, that you
and Munn have not been crossed by the same adversity which has overtaken
myself and the others.  I have a demand to make."

Meigs arose from the bowlder and struck an attitude which he intended to
be both dignified and compelling.  With his unshaven face and red kirtle
he succeeded only in making himself ludicrous.

"What is the demand?" inquired Quinn.

"You and Munn are fairly well-clothed," replied Meigs, "and I demand
that you share my distress to the extent of donating enough of your own
clothing to make me presentable."

On the impulse of the moment the professor began removing his coat.
When the garment was half off he changed his mind and slipped back into
it again.

"No," he returned.  "You have made your own bed, Mr. Meigs, and I think
you should lie in it until you experience a change of heart. When you
can truly say to Mr. Munn and me that you realize how sadly mistaken you
were on the other planet, we will share your distress--but not till
then."

"Out on you for a pair of heartless wretches!" exclaimed the broker
angrily.  "Your reasoning is false, and I will never yield assent to it.
I wash my hands of both of you"--and he went through the motions--"and
if our paths should cross in the future, it is my desire that we pass as
strangers."

He glared at us, turned on his bare heel and made his way to the road.
Then he strode off in the direction of the bend.

We watched him silently, the professor with apprehension and I with
unrestrained enjoyment. As he was about to vanish from our sight we saw
him come to a startled halt, gaze off along the road that lay beyond the
bend, then throw up his arms, whirl and race back to us.

"They're coming!" he shouted frantically; "the whole army is coming!  Is
there no way you can save me, gentlemen?  Think, for mercy's sake,
_think_!"

Meigs was continually building barriers between himself and the
professor and me, only to knock them down again whenever the slightest
danger threatened him.  Had I been the one to decide, he should then and
there have been left to shift for himself.




                             *CHAPTER XII.*

                         *CONDEMNED TO DEATH.*


"Have courage, Mr. Meigs," said Professor Quinn.  "It is my hope that
some high personage may be with the approaching army, in which event the
royal banner given us by the king of Baigol will be respected and prove
the salvation of all three of us."

This great and good man was utterly incapable of harboring resentment
against any one.  He beguiled the plutocrats into his castle, I grant
you, and shuffled them from the scene of their grievous labors, yet this
was not because he loved the rich man less but the poor man more.

As I write these words, piecing my narrative together out of my
commonplace book, a wave of affection and reverence rolls over me.

And often I steal forth o' nights when skies are propitious, gaze at
Mercury through my telescope, and can almost fancy myself in communion
with the gentle soul forever lost to its native planet.  But I
anticipate.

The retreating Gaddbaizets had reached headquarters and acquainted the
high chief in command with the fact that two more colossi had appeared;
so the major part of the king's forces had been ordered out.  By tactful
maneuvres, they were approaching from all sides.

A cordon was drawn around us--a cordon of soldiers with their flashing
zetbais presented. One hostile move would have placed the seal on our
death warrant.

The high chief, perhaps fearing his word-box might be wrecked as his
captain's had been, had evidently laid plans and given all orders in
advance of his attack on our position.  The assault was noiseless,
swift, and sure.

When completely surrounded by the troops, a number of the soldiers
disengaged themselves from various points of the circle.  These soldiers
carried lances at least ten feet long.

The lances were held high, and to the point of each the upper edge of a
net was made fast, the lower edge of the net trailing along the ground.

As the lancemen advanced the net took the form of a rapidly contracting
circle, the professor, Meigs, and myself in the centre.

In less than five minutes we three colossi were stoutly encompassed by
the net, hurled together and thrown in a helpless jumble.  The web was
finely woven and of a material that defied our efforts to break through
it.

Professor Quinn made a fierce attempt to use his word-box, but he was
held so rigidly that he could not do so.  One by one we were
disentangled, the upper parts of our bodies were wrapped about in
sections of the net so that only our legs were free, and we were forced
to proceed with our captors, the army marching on every side of us.

Meigs was loudly bewailing his evil fortune.

"Take heart, man!" cried Quinn.  "If I can see the king or get word to
him I am sure that all will yet be well."

"It's all day with us," returned Meigs with a groan, "and you cannot
make me believe otherwise."

There was no twilight in the nether kingdoms. Day leaped into night as
swiftly as a curtain falls on a stage play.

Long before we reached our destination we were in Stygian blackness.
There were no artificial illuminants known to the creatures of the
under-world, and they had no need of them. Their single eyes were gifted
with power to see at night almost as keenly as in the daytime.

When we had traveled several hours we were made to halt and a circle of
zet, similar to the one that had imprisoned Quinn and myself in Baigol,
was reared around us.  Thereupon we were freed of the nets and left to
ourselves.

The instant he was able to make use of his hands the professor grabbed
his word-box and began shooting questions into the opaque gloom that
hemmed us in.

"Why have you taken us prisoners?  What harm have we ever done you?  We
are under the protection of King Golbai.  Did not the captain of the
other detachment so inform you?"

Answer came back:

"You have been taken prisoners because you resisted the royal authority
and tried to protect a man who stole goods from our regal master. Theft
of goods from his majesty's storehouse is punishable with death.  Even
ambassadors from King Golbai are not above the laws of our realm."

"What is to be our fate?"

"Zet," was the laconic answer.  "You will all three be slain by the
executioner-general as soon as may be after the great reflector sends
its first gleam of day through the kingdom."

That ended the professor's talk with our unseen enemy who, presumably,
was the high chief of the forces.  It was sufficiently discouraging,
although I was reckless enough to ease my feelings with a few expletives
on Key 7--the most insolent and defiant that I had learned in Baigol.

"Mr. Munn, Mr. Munn!" cried Quinn in rebuke. "This is no time to express
yourself in that key."

"I am not endowed with your magnificent forbearance, professor," said I,
"and I had to say something."

"What's it all about, anyway?" asked Meigs.

"We are to die at sunrise, Meigs," I answered roughly, "or as soon after
sunrise as the executioner-general may find it convenient."

"I would have spared Mr. Meigs that information," said the professor.

"He ought to have time to prepare himself," I returned.  "As the night
is far spent I am going to turn in and snatch forty winks against the
time the reflectors begin to work.  Good night, professor," I added, as
I stretched out on the ground.  "I don't amount to much more than Meigs,
and will never be missed, but I am sorry for you."

Quinn groped for my hand.

"Life, in itself, is a small thing," said he, "no matter whether it is
long or short.  It is what we do with life that counts, Mr. Munn."

"I have no regrets for what I have done with mine," I declared.

And I had not.  Conscience did not accuse me in the least.  Never had I
taken a penny from those who could not afford to lose it.

"Think again, Mr. Munn!" implored the professor.  "I would not have you
face your doom in that mental attitude.  Surely your senses are not
blunted to the evil of your past life?"

"Sir," I answered, imbued to the core with the sophistry that had made
me what I was, "I have been a financier in a small way.  Not having the
requisite capital for large operations, I was compelled to work in a
small way.  My business, however, while it may not have been as
legitimate, was every whit as honest as that of Meigs and his
associates."

"If you men would stop that useless palavering," called Meigs, from
somewhere in the dark, "and try to think of some way for making our
escape, you would be putting in your time to better advantage."

"Never mind him, professor," said I.  "This is probably the last
opportunity we shall ever have for an extended talk.  At such a time a
man speaks from the heart, and I want you to know just where I stand."

"Just a moment, Mr. Munn."  The professor turned his head to answer
Meigs.  "It is impossible for us to escape," said he.  "Even if we could
get away from here, we should find the entire country in arms against
us."

"Possibly we could get back to that other benighted kingdom from which
you and the thief come accredited as ambassadors?" returned Meigs.

"It is a hard journey from here, Mr. Meigs, and we should be overtaken
and recaptured before we could cross the border into a friendly country.
Before we could take to flight, however, we should have to beat down the
barrier of zet that hems its in.  That, as I know from experience, is
out of the question."

Meigs began to complain, and to find fault, and the professor turned
from him and went on talking with me.

"I have brought these troubles upon you, Mr. Munn," he continued, a sad
note in his voice, "and upon the others.  It seems impossible to
accomplish any great good without causing some small amount of misery."

"Don't let my situation worry you," I remarked.  "While constantly
exercising my wits to secure the best fortune for myself, I have always
made it a point to be prepared for the worst.  I shall face the zetbais
in the morning without the quiver of an eyelid."

"Don't misunderstand me, Mr. Munn," said the professor earnestly.
"While I grieve that matters should have fallen out in this fashion, yet
I would not undo the one thing which brought us into these troubled
waters.  In other words, I would rather be here, in Njambai, with death
staring us in the face, than back there on Terra, with Meigs, Markham,
Popham, and Gilhooly free to work out their nefarious plans."

"That's the spirit!" I cried warmly.

"It's the spirit that has put many a man in the penitentiary," called
Meigs, who appeared to be following our conversation even if he was not
taking any part in it.

I turned with a stinging reply on my lips, but the professor dropped a
hand on my arm, and I held my peace.

"We are sharing together our last few hours," said he, "and let us have
no quarrelsome talk. Personally, I have a good deal of charity for
Meigs.  He is a man who, until very recently, has been accustomed to
having scores of people wait upon his slightest nod.  Here he has been
subjected to much indignity, and at the hands of a people whom he
believes to be his inferiors. Naturally that renders him disagreeable."

"He might, at least, have the grace to leave you alone," I answered.

"Not so, Mr. Munn.  He is perfectly right in badgering me.  I am at
fault, so far as he and his associates are concerned, and he knows it. I
do not expect approbation at their hands, but at the hands of those, in
far-away Terra, whom my drastic actions have helped.  Your calm
acceptance of your fate is so different from the attitude of Meigs that
it touches me deeply.  You have the same cause to blame and abuse me,
and yet you let the opportunity pass."

"It has been worth something, professor," I responded, "to stand at your
side and to pass through these remarkable adventures shoulder to
shoulder with you."

"Thank you for that, my friend."

"I have no doubt," I continued, "that if you and I were to be spared,
you might in time lead me to see what you are disposed to call the error
of my way, for you are a master hand at arguing; but, as I am at
present, I feel that my chances in the next world are as good as any
one's.  The rich have taken from the poor in a way that the law
sanctions; and I have taken from the rich in a way the law does not
sanction, and, in a few rare instances, have given to the poor.  There's
nothing in that to oppress my conscience.  The only thing I am sorry for
is that I entered your castle with my felonious intention centred upon
your property.  Now that I know you so well, my plan to steal from you
looks more like a crime than anything else I have done."

"Munn," he replied, "it grieves me to think that your career is to be
cut short before you have had an opportunity to reform.  However"--and
he sighed softly--"there is no escaping fate on our own planet or on
this.  Good night to you."

I was dog-tired and went off into slumber the moment I closed my eyes.
About the last thing I heard was the peevish voice of Meigs resisting
what little comfort the professor tried to offer him.

I was aroused by the professor.

"The first gleam of day, Mr. Munn," said he, bending over me with a
quiet smile.

I rubbed my eyes and got the cobwebs out of my brain.  Yes, it was the
first gleam of day--our last day.

We were in an open square in the heart of a diminutive city.  From every
side radiated trim little streets bordered thickly with white dwellings.

In front of us was a palace, rising dome upon dome until it stood full
thirty feet high. Inhabitants of the royal city were a

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