Weird Tales volume 24 number 03 (16 page)

" 'Yet the same chemical elements occur in each!' I said slowly. 'Carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen and oxygen—combined in certain proportions they form substances, not only innocuous in themselves, but substances that are absolutely vital to the human organism. Combine the same elements in different proportions, and you have the deadliest explosives!'

" 'My God!—you mean to say '

" 'That every human being is a potential living bomb!'

"The effect of my words was electrical.

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The man who would have faced a hostile House without a tremor now sank into his chair, deathly white and unnerved. It did not need more explanation to enable his keen, far-seeing brain to visualize the awful possibilities of my discovery. Yet I could see that he was struggling to disbelieve me,

" 'It—it's incredible!' he gasped at last. 'Why, if what you say is true '

' 'Why waste words? Words may sway the thoughts and actions of men, but the most transcendent eloquence is powerless to affect the elements of nature. Compare those sets of symbols, and tell me honestly if you—without the assistance of a chemical expert—could say offhand which represents, say, creatine, the crystalline substance which is contained in your own muscles at this present moment, and the high explosive which goes by the name of devastite. Consider again that the very air we breathe consists of four-fifths of nitrogen—and it is scarcely necessary to remind a man occupying your post that nitrogen forms the basic principle of almost every explosive known. Then ask yourself whether it is beyond the power of modern science to make practical use of those facts. I know that you will probably remind me, in your turn, that the use of that particular explosive, devastite, has been discontinued because it has been found liable to detonate spontaneously through decomposition. But my answer is, that such a defect is a defect only so long as the explosive is within our lines—the moment it is within the enemy lines, the more easily it explodes the better! Each soldier in the vast armies arrayed against us contains within himself the means of his own destruction. It but needs one single element, harmless in itself, to be incorporated in a gas and sent over the enemy trenches, and the next few hours

would see a holocaust such as the world has never known.'

"Tj^or a long time my companion -F looked at me without speaking. 'So that was your idea?'

"I felt myself flush at his tone. 'It certainly was my idea, but I abandoned it.'

" 'Why?' he asked quickly.

" 'It was too horrible, too fiendish, too frightful '

" 'Frightful?' He pounced on the word like a swooping hawk. 'Do you know who has taught us that word? Who has advocated the doctrine of ruthless fright-fulness, backing it up with specious arguments that the most terrible weapons are the most merciful because they make the struggle of opposing nations shorter? Our foes have taught us that—and now they shall be confounded by their own text— "hoist with their own petard" in real earnest! Put whatever price you please on your own services—we must have that gas! I hope, I pray that we may never need to employ it, but we must have it— or the knowledge of its preparation—to use as a last resort.'

"I will not weary you with a recapitulation of the arguments he employed before I consented to renew my researches. But I made one stipulation. The secret of the gas must remain in my own possession, contained in a sealed envelope that would only be handed to him when I was convinced that no other alternative remained than the complete destruction of the British Empire. But fortunately I was not called upon to make that momentous decision, for when the United States of America became our allies there was very little doubt as to the ultimate result of the war.

"The peril has passed — but has it passed for all time? If I could have answered that question with an unhesitant

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363

affirmative, I would have committed the secret to the flames. But ever at the back of my mind there lurked a fear that the world might be confronted with another, even graver, crisis, when the possession of my secret would be the deciding factor between victory and defeat. For you may rest assured that whoever holds the sealed packet, which I hereby give into your hands, holds in his hands the destiny of mankind. Guard it, I entreat you, as a sacred trust; as something even dearer than life. For, once it falls into the hands of the emissaries of a nation whose ambition is the domination of the world, carnage and hideous chaos will follow as

surely as the night follows day, and "

A harsh command cut through Tren-

chard's voice like the stroke of an ax:

"Up with your hands—both of you!"

Three shadowy figures, each holding a

levelled revolver, stood in the doorway.

15

The grim command, backed as it was by muzzles of three weapons trained with such deadly accuracy as to make them appear like so many circles of steel, left no alternative but to obey. Hugh and Ronnie raised their hands above their heads.

"Keep 'em there, and don't move except as I tell you," said the man who had spoken before; to his companions he added, but without turning his head: "Keep the red-headed chap covered, Dawson; I'll see that the other one behaves himself. Regan, give 'em a frisk."

One of the men stepped forward and ran his hands lightly over Hugh's clothing. In a very few seconds he had found and removed the revolver which Hugh had carried in his hip pocket ever since the death of Silas Marie.

"Well heeled, eh?" The spokesman of the party took up the weapon with his

disengaged hand and glanced at the conical bullets which nestled in the chambers of the cylinder. "See what sort of artillery the red-headed chap's got in the back of his pants "

"Look here, old sport," remonstrated Ronnie, "not so much of the 'red-headed chap.' I know I'm not exactly a brunette, bu t "

"Shut up! You'll have plenty of time to

squawk when " The rest of his remark

was drowned in Ronnie's sudden cackle of laughter as the searcher inserted his fingers beneath his armpits. "What's the game now? Getting hysterical?"

"No—ticklish. I never could bear any one to touch me there. If you do not desist, I shall give one long scream and bite your face. I will—if it poisons me!"

"Stow your jaw," ordered the searcher roughly. "Where do you pack your gat?"

Ronnie looked pained.

"Gat? What vulgarity of terminology! We always refer to it as a 'lethal weapon' in our set. Well, if you're going to probe my anatomy until you find one, you'll wear your fingers into fists before you get the gat I haven't got. If you manage to find anything on me more deadly than a fountain-pen I'll present you with a fiver for your trouble."

The searcher paused and glanced round at the man who appeared to be the leader of the party.

"You heard that, sir?" he asked in a tone of virtuous triumph. "I call on you to witness that he offered me a bribe in the execution of my duty."

"Your duty?" gasped Hugh, a light beginning to dawn on him. "You don't mean to tell me that you are policemen?"

"By no means," was the answer, given somewhat stiffly. "We are detectives belonging to the Special Investigation Branch of Scotland Yard. I am Detective-Inspector Renshaw, and it is my duty

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to take you into custody for being on enclosed premises at night for a supposed unlawful purpose. And it is my duty to warn you that anything you may say may be taken down and "

"Oh, my sacred aunt!" wailed Ronnie, suddenly collapsing in the nearest chair and hiding his face in his hands.

" used in evidence." The inspector produced a note-book. "I'll trouble you for your names and the last addresses at which you slept."

Ronnie's shoulders ceased shaking as he rose to his feet.

"Put down the red-headed chap as Auburn Harry, of Wapping," he said gravely. "You know—the man who strangled five policemen with his bare hands. My accomplice in crime—'pal' is the correct term, I believe—is Cross-eyed Dick, of Shadwell "

"Shut up, you ass!" Hugh interrupted; then he turned to the detectives. "I'm afraid there have been mistakes on both sides, inspector. You apparently took us for a couple of crooks, and your dramatic entry certainly made us think you were three gentlemen of the same kidney. As a matter of fact, I am Doctor Trenchard, the present owner of this house, and this is my friend, Doctor Brewster."

Inspector Renshaw looked at him half incredulously. "I suppose you have some proof of what you say?" he asked at length.

"Not here, I'm afraid. But Mr. Andrew Shale, Marie's solicitor, will vouch for me, as will also Sergeant Jopling of the local police."

The inspector did not verbally intimate that the explanation was satisfactory, but his action was eloquent. He handed the revolver back to Hugh.

"Hope we didn't scare you with our gun-play, sir."

Hugh laughed.

"Oh, I'm getting used to scares since coming down here for a quiet holiday."

"The rest cure hasn't been a success, eh?" Inspector Renshaw nodded in a manner that was intended to convey sympathy. "We've heard all about the funny business that has been going on here, and for the past few days the place has been under observation. When my man reported that he'd seen two men enter, I rushed over at once, and thought I'd got a capture."

"You must have hustled," Ronnie put in, speaking in a tone of admiring respect. "Unless you were camping somewhere on the Moor, you must have started soon after we entered this house. I am rather curious to know how your man managed to tip you off so promptly."

The inspector shrugged and permitted himself a cryptic smile.

"Oh, we have our methods, sir," he said with an air of mystery. "Some people are very fond of sneering at us and hinting that the mental development of the C. I. D. got atrophied somewhere in the Mid-Victorian era. They are apt to remember our failures and forget the fact that Scotland Yard delivers the goods— in the shape of the wanted man—nine times out of ten. We don't advertise every new invention we adopt, but I can tell you this—at one hour's notice I could get enough men here to search every square yard of this Moor, big as it is."

"That's the stuff to give 'em!" cried Ronnie approvingly. "I bet you've got a wireless set, and a few airplanes, and half-a-dozen tanks up your sleeve somewhere! I thought I and my friend were going to enjoy a nice little spook-hunt all on our own, but now you've come in, all we'll have to do is sit tight and read all about it in the papers. Of course you have a theory?"

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365

Inspector Renshaw gave a non-committal shrug.

"I don't set much store on theories when I can get hold of solid facts. You seem to have got hold of a few," he made a gesture toward the sheets of manuscript on the table. "I suppose you have been going through the dead man's papers?"

"As he had a perfect right to do," Ronnie interposed briskly, "seeing that the whole of Silas Marie's property devolves on him "

"Of course, of course," Inspector Renshaw hastened to say. "My remark was not intended as a criticism of your action, Doctor Trenchard. I was merely anxious to know if you have found anything that will shed light on the mysterious happenings here."

"Well, not directly," Hugh answered, after a pause during which he did some hard thinking. "The only salient facts contained in the papers I have already read are that Marie was a chemist who had made a special study of the chemical warfare which the late War brought into being, and had invented a novel and—at any rate theoretically—effective method of wholesale slaughter. You are quite welcome to hear the remainder of his narrative, but I warn you I shall skip any passage which appears to be of a private or personal nature."

"That's fair enough," assented Renshaw. To his subordinates he added: "You two keep watch outside and see that we are not disturbed."

When they had the room to themselves, Hugh took up the thread of Silas Marie's story:

"My conditions were accepted without the slightest demur. I was to be given an absolutely free hand in making my researches, but, merely as a matter of form, I was entered on the pay-roll of the lab-

oratory staff of the Royal Arsenal, Woolwich. But it was very seldom that I entered the gates of that establishment, for I quickly realized that my work was too hazardous to be carried on in the same vicinity where large quantities of explosives were being manufactured and stored. I looked out for a spot, lonely and remote from human habitations, and at last I decided to buy a dilapidated and reputedly ghost-haunted house known as Moor Lodge, situated on the most desolate part of Exmoor.

"Needless to say, I did not go out of my way to refute the grisly legends respecting the old house, for I counted on them ensuring me the seclusion I so much desired. One of the rooms I fitted up as a laboratory, and there I labored to convert my dream into a tangible, practicable reality.

"No galley-slave ever toiled harder at his oar than I toiled at my bench during the first three months. We lived here alone, my dear wife and I, and sometimes whole weeks would go by without either of us seeing a strange face. She knew that I was engaged in confidential work for the government, but little did she guess the nature of that work!

"But gradually the strain began to tell on me. I was far from being a young man, and in addition to my experiments I was obliged to perform the rough work of the house; for my wife was not strong physically, though nothing could have exceeded her love and devotion to me. It was almost impossible to hire a domestic servant at that time, when the prospect of earning high wages was tempting every able-bodied girl to the munition factories; even in normal times I doubt whether any local girl would have consented to spend a single night in a house with such a ghostly reputation as Moor Lodge. I even journeyed to Plymouth and inter-

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viewed several, discharged soldiers and sailors who had been disabled in the war. But they all seemed too intelligent for my purpose—I simply dared not risk having a man on the premises who might so much as guess at the nature of the work on which I was employed. Things were at a deadlock when Fate brought to my door the very man I needed.