The Radium Pool

                             Ed Earl Repp

                     _Fantasy Publishing Co. Inc._
                          _Los Angeles 1949_

                    Copyright 1949 by Ed Earl Repp

      [Transcriber's Note: Extensive research did not uncover any
  evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

       THE RADIUM POOL, copyright 1929 by Gernsback Pubs., Inc.

         PHANTOM OF TERROR, copyright 1933 by Teck Pubs., Inc.

        THE RED DIMENSION, copyright 1930 by Stellar Pub. Corp.
                & copyright 1945 by Better Pubs., Inc.

                       Manufactured in U. S. A.

                     Jacket Design by Jack Gaughan

                   FANTASY PUBLISHING COMPANY, Inc.
             8318 Avalon Blvd., Los Angeles 3, California

       *       *       *       *       *

Deep beneath the many-hued, volcanic sands of the Manalava Plains is an
eerie world. And in this world, in a gem-encrusted cavern, is a pool of
shimmering, iridescent matter, guarded by creatures from outer space.
Into this unexplored region go two men following the shadowy trail of a
vanished girl; searching down the corridors of time for a fragment of a
departed age. Intent upon their quest they do not heed the silent voice
that warns them of the great peril in the secret recesses of the cavern
land. Lured irresistibly toward danger, the Earthmen discover that the
interlopers from a far planet plan to use their superior powers to
protect their lootings.

THE RADIUM POOL is the story of the desperate search by two gallant men
for a lost woman; of their meeting with the weird Jovians in the hidden
work-shop under the Valley of Death; of the uncanny mysteries of the
Pool, and the immortality found therein. Throughout this tale of dark
adventure the unseen hand of fate is deftly guiding the destinies of
each man toward good and evil.

Included in this volume is a scientific detective story, "The Phantom
of Terror," and "The Red Dimension," once reprinted in _Startling
Stories' Hall of Fame_, and considered by many readers to be the
author's best science fiction short story.




                               CONTENTS


                           The Radium Pool

                           The Phantom of Terror

                           The Red Dimension




                           _The Radium Pool_




                          _Introductory Note_


_To begin with, you may not believe this story, yet I sincerely
urge you not to allow the apparent strangeness of it to create a
prejudice against it. Many weird tales, most of which are true, come
from the vast wastes of desert jungles. How little we actually know
of Death Valley--the lowest spot on earth and the hottest! With
its shifting sand-dunes, sun-baked hills, saline formations and
mysterious atmospheres, the Valley of Death has long been the subject
of mysteries for fiction and fact. In truth, it is the one spot on
the North American Continent that has not been thoroughly explored
either by desert rat or scientist. This is true especially of what lies
beneath the surface. Neither has it been thoroughly explored on the
surface--the area is too great--and it has never been found possible
to remain there for any length of time! Only those who have spent much
time in Death Valley can appreciate its intriguing mysteries, its
radiant beauty and deathly lure!_




                                   I

                         _A Choice Assignment_


At my little desk tucked away in the corner of the editorial rooms of
the _Outstander_, behind the broad, paper-littered table of the city
editor, I sat praying for something to happen. Anything would do that
would break the spell of semi-consciousness that had captured me during
a lull in city news.

As I dozed, I dreamed of visiting the glacier at Bishop. Then I floated
down to Rio de Janeiro. From there, all in a period of perhaps several
quiet minutes, I traveled to San Juan Capistrano where I found that the
old Bells of San Juan Mission were ringing loudly for the first time in
a half century. I awoke with a start. The telephone on the city desk
was jangling like a fire-bell.

I sat dazed for an instant. Then my brain cleared from its inertia and
I sat back expecting something to happen. I heard the City Editor slam
down the receiver. His swivel chair squeaked as he spun around.

"Dowell!" he called, lustily.

"Yes sir!" I answered, rubbing my bleary eyes.

"Oh, I see you snapped out of it, eh? I was figuring to have the
janitor bring you a cot to sleep on--or send you to a hotel for a rest,
or----"

"Or tell me to take a vacation, huh?" I returned. "This is a helluva
day!"

"Where'd yuh like to go, Dowell?" he asked.

"North Pole, boss! Or maybe up to Bishop to sleep in one of those
glacial caves they rave so much about. Ought to be cool there."

"That's a good one on you, Dowell. But I am going to give you a little
vacation in appreciation of your commendable work of late. I'm mighty
sorry I can't let you go to the North Pole or to Bishop either. You're
going to Death Valley!"

"I'm what!"

"I said you leave for Death Valley and I don't mean in December either!"

"That's fine----oh well, it might be worse!"

"It could be, but it isn't. I gotta send you out because you seem to
be the only reporter on the staff who understands scientific work.
You like geology, archaeology, anthropology and so on. You ought to
be happy at a chance to work with a real scientist. You dash out to
Southland Institute of Technology and make arrangements with Professor
Bloch to accompany him to Death Valley. Professor Bloch phoned in--yes,
while you were sleepin' like the original babe in the woods--and
invited us to send a reporter out to cover his reconnaissance of some
important human fossils reported found in the Valley. He'll be gone
several days, will pay all expenses and you ought to learn something.
It'll be a feather in your hat if you bring in a corking scientific
yarn for the _Outstander_ Syndicate--and don't forget the bonus offered
for the best story of the month."

"But it's quite out of the ordinary to send the star reporter out on a
goose chase, boss," I parried, hoping that he'd change his mind.

"It is, but not when a man like Professor Bloch asks for the star hand
on this journal. You know he has always suspected that there's more in
Death Valley than anybody ever learned. Who knows--he might make the
greatest discovery ever as regards human development in America! I'm
doing you a favor, Dowell, but you don't seem to appreciate it! I'd go
myself if I wasn't tied down to this desk. Now get the hell out of here
and remember that if a man bites a dog--that's news. And don't try to
make a monkey out of this paper, either!"

"Okay, general! I'll wire you from Barstow on the way back so you
can reserve a room for me down in the ice-house. And thanks for
the--er--the vacation!"

"Don't mention it, Dowell!" the City Editor laughed. "Have a hot time!"

       *       *       *       *       *

The trip to Death Valley was uneventful. We camped at what Professor
Bloch believed to be the lost Mesquite Springs. The sun had just
settled over the edge of the Funerals and the pack animals which we had
picked up at Stovepipe Wells were munching barley at the tail of the
buckboard when the professor beheld something bobbing about among the
sand dunes. The object was too far away to make certain with the naked
eye whether it was a man or an animal. Professor Bloch got out his
field glasses and discovered that it was a man.

We watched him for several minutes and during that time he fell seven
times. He was staggering in circles and appeared to move only because
some hidden power forced him to. Presently he fell again and this time
he lay still. So Professor Bloch saddled a burro and rode out to get
him. I stood up on the tail of the buckboard and watched the silent
drama.

Coyotes had followed the stumbling man patiently waiting for him to
die. The professor rode to a spot where they were squatted on their
hunkers, circled a small area and found his man. He brought him back
to the camp, and after we washed the alkali and sand ticks from his
eyes we gave him water. When it was safe enough for him to have all the
water he wanted, we gave him food, after which he said his name was of
no consequence but he had been foreman of the Panamint Mining Company
over Balch way. Hysterically he told us that he had lost his partner,
interspersing his words with fragments of a tale that made Professor
Bloch's strong brows knit together and his eyes flash.

"He's gone--he'll never see this world again!" the man interrupted
when I asked him if it were not too late for us to help his partner.

"Well!" he said, hysterically, "He's found his sweetheart, Allie Lane!
We followed the trail together and we found her 'way over in hell
across the Manalava plain! You can see it way over there in hell--it's
the red streak of table-land off to the southeast. For more than forty
years, Sands had been driftin' over the deserts searching for her. At
last they are together."

The prospector took a long pull at the canteen. Professor Bloch and
I squatted in the sand beside our tiny cook fire. The mine foreman
pointed with trembling hand, towards the southeast where the vague
and sinister outlines of a mountain range loomed mysteriously in the
ghostly desert dusk.

"That's a terrible place!" he groaned. "We found a band of heathens
there where not even a sidewinder would dare to venture. That flat,
above all else in these deserts, is the hottest place this side of
hell! And the heathens? Waugh!--"

Professor Bloch sat bolt upright and eyed the prospector whose
withered, leather-like visage loomed like a spectre in the glare
of the camp-fire. His face glowed with a ghostly tint of greenish
phosphorescence--like the radium dobbed face of a glowing watch-dial.

"Pardon my interruption, old man," Professor Bloch said,
apologetically. "Did I understand you to say that strange human beings
exist on the Manalava Plain?"

"A band of heathens, yes!" replied the prospector with a shudder.
"They ain't human, they're frog-faced beasts about seven feet tall,
with funny long arms, long legs and big heads! We stumbled on them
accidentally and they made us prisoners! God help Driftin' Sands and
Allie Lane!"

"Did you escape?" I inquired, rather disdainfully, for I was figuring
that the prospector suffered from the heat. I glanced over him. His
hands now were steady but his lips trembled a trifle. He shook his head
slowly and closed his eyes. I accepted the movement as an attempt to
shut out some terrible vision from his sun-scorched brain.

"Yes, young fellow, I got away! But only because I was left for dead!
And I come mighty close to passing on, too. I got a family over at
Balch, and kids that's been needin' me, otherwise I couldn't have made
it here."

"I always suspected that a race of peculiar people existed out this
way," Professor Bloch put in. "This account does not startle me in
the least. In fact, my associate, Dr. Jorg Jamesson, recovered some
strange and almost human remains in this neighborhood that gave rise
to startling revelations. Lately our astronomers have noticed peculiar
atmospheric conditions over Death Valley that seemed to indicate some
tremendous radio-active force emanating from the earth's surface!"

"If I remember right," the prospector commented, "Sands and I met your
Dr. Jamesson some time ago around here. We didn't have time to talk
much with him. I believe he showed us some bones that appeared to be
human. Let's see! Yes! He showed us a skull--a big skull that was twice
as large as mine, with an overdropping forehead, and the face of a
frog! Those Manalava heathens had the same kind of froggish faces!"

"Then that evidently proves Dr. Jamesson's contention that a race of
freaks exist or existed here in Death Valley." Professor Bloch slapped
a thigh enthusiastically. Then turning to me he said: "Dowell, I told
your City Editor that something was going to be found out here to
substantiate Jamesson's assertions."

I nodded. "But what's the story about Driftin' Sands and Allie Lane?" I
inquired of the prospector. It sounded like a good human interest yarn
to me. I did not believe that it had any significance with Professor
Bloch's project but it would make great feature stuff!

"Yes, yes! Go ahead with your story, old timer, by all means," the
professor said.

       *       *       *       *       *

"Well," the prospector began, somewhat wildly, "As I said, that's a
terrible place, that Manalava flat, and we were near the end of our
strings when we reached it.

"Our water was gone. We had two good drinks from a barrel cactus before
we reached the edge of the Manalava flats. That rotten stuff didn't
help any to quench our thirst. Near the flats we found a good spring
with dead men's bones strewn around it. A fight had taken place there
once--Indians and whites, and they must have fought for the water.

"The spring lies in a little box canyon opening out into the valley.
Sands and I could see the sun glistening on the whitened bones even
while we were yet a mile away from them. Our water was gone and it was
safer to continue than to turn back.

"The whites had held the spring and the Indians fought from behind
boulders on the hillsides. By the spring there's a semi-circle of old
prairie schooners with arrowheads sticking in the rotted framework.
You can find more arrowheads around the skeletons. There are no drafts
there and the bones have lain untouched for years. Even coyotes and
buzzards have stayed away from the Manalava Plain! I don't understand
why Indians, with their superstition, would venture near the earthly
hell.

"The spring was worth fighting for, I said to myself, as I ducked my
head in the water. The water was cool and tasted good, but it had a
greenish tint--that was the color peculiar to the heathens under the
Manalava Plain! We camped at the spring all night.

"Sands did not sleep well that night. He seemed to be high-strung and
excited in the morning. He claimed that he heard voices throughout the
night and after breakfast he began talking about Allie Lane.

"You've heard the tale about Allie Lane, of course. Everybody who has
lived in California long must have heard about it. She was Sands'
sweetheart back in Kansas City when he was a youngster. He came to
California first and Allie, with her father, started West with a wagon
train the following spring in 1880. If that train had ever arrived,
Sands would have known it. For over forty years he had been searching
for news of Allie up and down the coast until it cracked his mind some.

"Allie must have meant a lot to him, for he never married and for forty
years he's been drifting over California asking folks if they'd ever
met up with anybody by the name of Lane from Kansas City.

"Allie Lane had been a member of a train such as lay scattered around
the spring. This was worrying him, I could see. He was a bit off on the
subject after having searched for her so long. It taxed his brain, and
Sands was an old man. I watched him as he puttered and poked around
those whitened, petrified bones.

"There was a wagon train--the remains of one that had probably taken
the southern route across from El Paso, heading into California over
the old Fremont Trail. It wasn't necessary for them to head into Death
Valley; so they must have gone off the right trail and strayed through
an unknown pass into the Valley where they died fighting the Apaches at
this water hole.

"I tried to argue the old fellow out of the idea that Allie Lane had
been killed, telling him that she had arrived safe, married, and
forgotten all about him. But he would have none of it and flew into a
rage, saying that she promised to wait for him and that he'd meet her
alive in California. I let it go at that.

"I sat down on the wreck of one of the schooners and watched him putter
around the bones. He had loved this Allie Lane in the days of his youth
when he left her back in Kansas City. I suppose he had an indelible
picture of her as she was when he left her, stamped in his brain, and
did not figure that now she would be an old lady, even if she was alive.

"So Driftin' Sands continued his two great searches. One was for Allie
Lane, first and always, and the other was for gold of which he had
found plenty.

"I'm sure that Sands and I were the first to enter that canyon since
the fight by the spring. There was not a speck of ashes to prove that
anyone else had ever camped there.

"The canyon was free from sand storms, and sheltered on practically all
sides except for the Valley opening; and even if the sight of human
bones would drive one away, there was always the spring to lure a man
back. But it was hard on the nerves to stay there. There was something
eerie and ghostly about the whole section of desert that was not caused
by a few bones scattered around. We were to learn what it was later.

"Sands found an old trunk half buried in the sand. It was rotted and
sprung by sun and weather and it crumbled at the touch of a hand. In
that trunk Sands found an old family picture album. The photographs
were so dim that very few were distinguishable. He pored over them
nervously and when he had gone almost to the last page, his shaking
fingers held a leaf. He found a picture that glued his eyes to the
rotted book and then I had my first sight of Allie Lane!"




                                  II

                          _What Sands Heard_


"The face on the tintype displayed the features of the most beautiful
girl I have ever seen! Her features were clear-cut, her eyes soft and
appealing. In spite of the years, that one picture, out of a hundred
old tintypes, remained clear and distinct. Underneath the picture was
a written description that we could not read with the naked eye. The
ink had long since disappeared, leaving only faint traces of point
imprints. I got out my magnifying glass that I used to study ore
specimens, and read the words:

                              Allie Lane,
                        Kansas City, Missouri.
                            March 19, 1878

"I handed the glass to Sands and went over to douse my head in the
spring. You see, I'd heard the name of Allie Lane so many times that
when I came face to face with that picture of her, it fairly upset me.

"Presently Sands returned my glass and without speaking we packed our
outfit, rolled in the spring, and struck off toward the Manalava Plain.

"That night was like all the rest. We wrapped ourselves in blankets and
slept. But toward morning Sands awakened me.

"'Pardner! Get up!' he said. 'I hear a wagon passing off there in the
valley and if we hit the trail now we can hook up with it until we
reach the Manalava Springs. It's a long hike to the flats and water's
scarce! Hear the wagon crashin' through the brush?'

"I raised on my elbow and listened. There was not a sound to be heard.
I looked at Sands queerly. Was the heat and the excitement of seeing
Allie's picture, affecting his mind, and anyway, why should a wagon of
all things be trekking through the desert during the dead of night?
Anyone but an utter fool would use an auto. But I yielded to his
excitement and we started out at once, leaving behind an extra blanket
and some canned goods so as to travel lighter. I allowed Sands to lead
where he thought the sounds came from.

"We went on and on, I all the while arguing that I could hear nothing
while Sands insisted he heard the wagon continually.

"Little by little the gray and orange of approaching dawn began to
steal over the valley. The world was assuming a definite shape and the
day's heat began to mount even before the first rays of the rising sun
were visible. A mile in front of us a great, red streak rose against
the skyline, looming dimly and awesomely out of the lightening eastern
heavens. Sands remarked at its ghostliness and informed me that we were
nearing the southern extremities of the terrible Manalava Plain. I had
never been in the section of Death Valley and of a certainty, Sands had
never been nearer than he was then.

"In some forgotten day a volcano had scattered its red hot lava and
settled it into a stretch of plain which covered an area of thirty
miles either way, although no trace of a volcanic mountain was visible.
Bare and flat as a table-top and as hot under the glare of the sun as
the inside of an oven! Such was the Manalava Plain, never explored,
unmapped----a lost world of its own.

"Sands kept on insisting we were coming nearer to the sounds.

"Rapidly it became light enough for us to see the Plain. The sun, a
huge fiery ball, popped up almost suddenly from behind the Manalava
Plain and instantly the world was sweltering. Its golden glow reflected
on the red lava of the Plain and created a murky green haze that added
to the heat and burned acridly through the lungs. The odor was ungodly
and unworldly!

"'There's the wagon!' Sands suddenly exclaimed.

"I looked all over the desert, and not a thing like a wagon did I see.

"'I don't see a thing,' I told him soberly.

"'You don't?' he exclaimed incredulously. 'Why look out there.' He
pointed toward the base of a low hill. There was not a thing to be
seen. I knew then that his mind was slipping under the terrific strain.
I tried to argue with him. I even shot off my pistol to show him that
there would be no response. But Sands insisted on going on. Rather than
have him travel into that hell alone, I shook my head and followed
after him.

"We climbed the buttress of a low hill and swung to the left,
discovering a natural causeway that led up and out into the very
table-top of the Manalava Plain itself.

"Before us in unbroken desolation lay the forgotten country--Manalava
Plain! The formation of the floor was a soft lava-like surface--rock
that had once flowed in liquid form and after hardening to some extent,
gave the country a flat and shiny appearance like a great field of red
asphalt.

"'The wagon is gone,' Sands exclaimed suddenly.

"'That's mighty peculiar, Driftin',' I said, 'That they're gone when
you said that they weren't more than a mile ahead of us.'

"'I don't savvy it at all,' he replied. 'But let's follow further.
They'll sure need help.'

"Helplessly I followed.

       *       *       *       *       *

"Here was the Manalava Plain--as flat and smooth as a plate of
glass--and stretching for miles either way, bare and deserted. Surely
we were the only actual beings on the mesa!

"Perhaps, I thought, old Driftin' Sands was suffering from
hallucinations. Perhaps the sight of the bleached bones back at the
spring had gotten into his blood. I wanted to give up the chase but
Sands declared again he would continue alone. I had no alternative but
to accompany him. To me death beckoned either way and I'd been with
Sands so long now that a few more miles would not matter.

"Presently we came upon a weird sort of a cactus tree--a species of a
kind that I'd never seen on the desert! It was red instead of green
and had long, flowing branches like the tentacles of an octopus! The
tentacles twitched restlessly although there was not a breath of
wind to stir them. I warned Sands to stay a safe distance away from
it. The thing seemed alive! Farther off, standing dimly in the green
murky haze, I saw other trees like the one in front of us. They stood
motionless and stiff.

"By all the laws of nature, the trees in front of us should not have
been growing there--should not have been on this world at all! We
stopped and looked at each other.

"We looked at the cactus closely. Its tentacles were waving
spasmodically as though warning us to return from whence we came. I
tore my eyes from it and studied the earth. Sands gasped when I pointed
out to him the fragments of a human skull and other anatomical portions
of the human frame, apparently crushed, strewn under the waving,
rubber-like tentacles of this weird cactus.

"I felt an urge to dash away from the spot and it was with a mighty
effort that I controlled an insanity that was creeping through my brain.

"'Do you admit there's no wagon here?' I yelled at Sands.

"'I guess there isn't pardner,' he acknowledged, downcast. His
shoulders seemed to droop more than ever and the alertness in his eyes
suddenly disappeared. 'But how do you account for my hearin' a man, a
woman and a wagon? They've got to be here; so let's follow them out.'

"My insane desire to run now manifested itself into a reality, and with
Sands at my heels, I started off at a run. Eventually I steadied my
racked brain and slowed the pace. Sands came up, breathing heavily at
the exertion. I noticed that he had cast his pack away and clung only
to a gallon canteen in which I could hear the water sloshing around.
The sound told me that it was almost empty.

"Presently we discovered the remains of an old schooner. It was just
like those back at the spring. Its canvas tarpaulin, bleached white,
clung from the top-ribs in streamers of gossamer. Not a single bone
could be found in front of the wagon, lending more mystery to the
trail. Where had the horses gone? What had become of them? Surely,
there would be bleached skeletons in the traces had the horses been
deserted.

"'The horses laid down here.' Sands was saying as to himself, kicking
a foot at two wallows in front of the wagon. 'But they must've got up
and wandered away after restin'. See, the traces have been cut! The man
picked up the woman and packed her off. His trail is deeper now. We
ought to find 'em soon.'

"I said nothing. Perhaps he had seen something and I was the one who
was mad. Some story was plainly written on this wagon. Sands pointed at
the side board. Cut deep were the even letters of Alfred Forsythe Lane,
Allie's father. Below the name was a scratched message. With difficulty
we read it.

"'God have mercy on us. Our water is gone--this is the end. I love you,
Robert Sands of Kansas City. If you ever see this, you will know!'

"Sands sat down on the rotting tongue of the wagon and cried. His
great, booming voice quivered with emotion as his body twitched with
sobs. Tears rolled down his withered, weather-beaten face in spite
of the terrific heat of the Plain that sucked the moisture from our
bodies. Hands, gnarled with years of toil and sorrow, fondly held the
old tintype taken from the faded album found at the spring.

"Sands straightened. His eyes, now dry and dim, surveyed me for a
moment.

"'You'd better take this water, pardner,' he said, 'and hit the back
trail! I'm going to follow this to the end and there'll be no return.
You take it and go back to your wife and kids! They'll be needin' you,
pard, like Allie needed me. Take it!'

"Instinctively I reached out for his proffered canteen. Then I thought
better of it. I certainly did want to go back. What would my wife and
kids do if I failed to return! But if I deserted Sands I would never be
able to live it down. I decided to stick it out. A few more miles could
not matter now and the chances of me finding my way out were mighty
slender, anyway.

"'I couldn't take it, Sands,' I said. 'I'd rather go ahead and see
what's beyond. I--I--er--er rather like this hike, you know.'

"And so I followed him again.

"'There they go, pardner!' he shouted finally. 'Down the draw! Hurry
and we'll catch up with them!'

"I looked up in time to see two forms crawling on hands and knees
down the draw. I was certain that my own mind was giving way to
hallucinations, but to satisfy Sands I started forward at a trot.
Sands was at my side. As he ran, his jaws were beating a loud tattoo.
My heart ached for him and his sweetheart whom he'd search for so
long--Allie Lane! Maybe he would find her, I thought.

       *       *       *       *       *

"Presently we arrived at what we thought was the draw down which the
two crawling figures had vanished. Instead of finding what we expected
we actually encountered a saucer-like crater which I assumed at once
to have been the one from which the lava forming the Manalava Plain
had erupted. We stood on the brink of the yawning pit and noted that
in the center, surrounded by overhanging lava forming a circular
cave, brilliant with a green phosphorescent glow, was a pool probably
a hundred feet in width. The pool seemed as alive as that grotesque
cactus with its restless tentacles.

"The pale green that filled it, with its ghostly hue, reminded us of
the spring at which we found the Lane album. The material shimmered and
scintillated and even from our height we felt a terrific heat that must
have come from the stuff. There was a powerful odor coming from it,
too, sweet and nauseating. The glare from the pool seemed to burn our
skin even at the distance we stood from it. Nowhere was there a sign of
the mysterious crawling figures--the man and the woman, although under
our feet were the marks of a ragged trail.

"'Good Lord, Sands!' I cried, 'that stuff could be radium!'

"Sands looked at me with a puzzled frown.

"'Hell!' he expostulated, 'there's not that much radium in the whole
world and we wouldn't know it if we seen a lake of it. Looks like some
green salt solution to me and indications point to some funny deposits
here! What's that unearthly noise?'

"I cupped my hands behind my ears to catch the sound that Sands had
heard. My hair literally stood on ends. Spooky? Lord! I couldn't have
moved a foot if I wanted to. I was glued to the spot. The weird sound,
like the low moan of a woman in mortal agony, issued from the circular
cave surrounding the luminous pool. It grew louder until the Manalava
Plain groaned under the tumult. The sounds penetrated to the core of
the brain and seemed to beckon us down into the crater. Sands was
swaying to and fro as he stood on the slight parapet overlooking the
crater, in perfect rhythm to the tempo of the devilish sounds. I felt
that I too was keeping the same accompaniment and it was with an effort
that I broke the spell.

"My hand dropped to my gun butt. I tore it out of its holster and
fired rapidly, thumbing the hammer, into the pool. Sands yelled. Like
a living fountain, long columns of luminous green and red and violet
flame shot up to the parapet. Simultaneously we both leaped back. The
air seemed alive with some mysterious vibrations. Finally it died away
and the tumult issuing from the circular cave settled down to a low,
steady hum. We once again stood on the crater's escarpment and looked
within. The pool was glittering restlessly.

"'We might as well have a close look at that pool, pardner,' Sands
reminded me as I stood rooted on the edge of the crater, studying the
formation surrounding the pool. 'I can't make it out. If it's some
radium compound, you'll be a rich man. Your wife an' kids back in Balch
will be needin' it, I'm thinkin'. Let's go down.'

"Sands stepped over the escarpment. I followed him down into the
crater. We paused about twenty feet from the edge of the pool. The heat
was terrific--so great that it caused the blood to race to my head,
and my heart to beat rapidly. And more intense became that mysterious
vibration in the air, and a something that seemed to be eating into my
flesh. I remarked about the phenomenon to Sands and told him that it
must have been caused by some unknown power of radium. Rather than risk
touching the stuff I threw a piece of cloth on it. There was a little
sizzle and the cloth seemed literally to vanish before our eyes! He
then took his revolver and dipped it in. The hard steel of the barrel
melted like lead in a blast furnace, yet the butt in his hand did not
heat beyond sun-temperature. The melted steel floated to the surface
like slag and drifted out into the center of the pool, to sink again in
a tiny whirl. Sands fondled his useless gun speculatively.

"'Pardner,' he said, 'You're lookin' into a pool of some radium
compound! It must be radium for I've seen about everything else in its
line. If Allie and her father came too close to this, you can imagine
what happened to them. I fear the worst.'

"'Well,' I said, 'I don't like to think that your friends ended near
the pool. We might see some bones if they did. Let's take a look under
these overhanging shelves. The caves might tell us something.'

"'I don't reckon we'll find anything, pardner,' Sands returned, sick at
heart and utterly dejected.

"'Can't tell! We've seen so many strange things that I'm interested,' I
said.

"By all the laws of human nature and its greed for the precious, Sands
and I should have danced around the radium pool with glee over our
discovery. Untold wealth lay exposed before us, but under the sadness
of our circumstances, the living, pulsating pool was nothing. The
radium, which we believed oozed out of the old volcanic crater, could
ruin the world, with its great power and radio-active qualities.




                                  III

                              _Eldorado_


"At any rate, we picked our way carefully, shielding our faces,
remaining as close to the cave wall as possible, peeping intently into
the greenly illuminated circular cavern. Glowing stalactites hung
from the cave ceilings in mystic forms. Precious stones and metals in
countless numbers cropped out of the lava-like formations. Rock which
Sands had accepted previously as cinnabar was red rock-lava bearing
iron pyrites and black quartz, containing a wealth of sapphire and
diamond-like stones that glittered invitingly under the glare of the
green rays cast off by the pool.

"'My God, Sands!' I shouted eagerly, forgetting momentarily my sorrows
and sympathies for Sands and his sweetheart of long ago. 'We've struck
it! This is the real El Dorado! It is like the myths handed down by the
Spaniards! Wealth! Riches! Power and--'

"'--and unhappiness, greed and all the rest!' Sands added, staring at
me curiously. 'It means the fulfillment of your dreams, pardner. You
know what it means to me? To me it means the loss of all that I've ever
held dear in this life. It means that I've spent my life in quest of
happiness--and lost it right here at this pool! Do you realize that,
pardner?'

"I most certainly did realize it and I calmed down to once again share
Sands' great sorrow. He had trailed Allie Lane and her father over the
forty-year old trail. Here we believed that it ended forever. No need
to search farther. Yet for some unaccountable reason, Sands insisted
that she was still alive or if not alive, some remains must exist in
that vicinity.

"As we continued our search and explorations near the mouth of the
cave, the weird, ominous moaning that vaguely portended the advent of
something untoward, became audible again. Sands and I stopped in our
tracks to listen. Coming from the far side of the pool, the moaning
increased gradually until it became a steady wail like the shriek of
high-speed machinery. We stood watching the spot which unlike the part
of the crater on our side, did not glow with the green luminosity. It
seemed to be an inky black pit. Not even a stalactite was visible!

"Suddenly as we stared at the spot, the blackness became shot with
myriads of colors until it glittered blindingly. The wail was now
a terrific shriek. The Manalava Plain seemed to groan under some
tremendous impulse emanating from below our feet. The earth swayed and
rumbled. From the pool, came a mysterious sputtering and a tiny swirl
in its center at first, suddenly became a whirling maelstrom. A thin,
silver-like column rose several feet into the air from its middle. Like
a miniature water-spout, typical of typhoon infested sections of the
South Seas, the rising column whirled faster and faster.

"Meanwhile, the once black, bottomless abyss which had suddenly become
charged with blinding colors, was changing now to a more solid hue.
Green was transplanting the reds and vermilions, and thin, wisp-like
rays of yellow that seemed to charge the atmosphere with a super
high-tension activity, were twitching nervously in the pit. Gradually
the colors merged into a solid mass of luminous green and out of it
spun a glistening sphere that appeared to be a ball of the same liquid
that was now whirling over the pool!

"The sphere, probably twenty feet in diameter, moved slowly at first,
toward the pool, its surface glowing as it revolved with a terrific
speed. The atmosphere became stagnant and penetrated deep into the
lungs, but Sands and I were too stupefied to move a muscle. I felt a
sudden panic seize me and then breaking the grip of stupefaction I
ran like a mad man along the edge of the whirling maelstrom. I was
struck with fright. You cannot conceive my terror as I stumbled along
the pool! I forgot about Sands--forgot about everything in my blind
unreasoning. I felt no fatigue as I ran, only stark, mad terror.

"In my wild terrified scramble for safety, I ran past the only exit or
entrance down into the crater and soon found myself face to face with
the spinning sphere! Bright, swift-moving lights passed around the
sphere as it emerged from the abyss. The yellow rays were gone now and
as I stared at it in my utter terror, the sphere began to glow like a
great emerald ball. The high-pitched scream was more terrific here and
it pounded in my ear-drums with a metal-edged sharpness that sent me
blind and unreasoning back around the other side of the pool! In my
terror I thumped into Sands, who was standing in the same spot where
he had been when I started my mad dash. The collision brought us both
to the crater floor, clutching for the slightest handhold to prevent
us from rolling into the ghastly pool. At the very edge of the pool we
came to a stop. Sands put out a hand to brace himself but the tips of
his fingers accidentally dipped into the liquid. He jerked back his
hand with a bellow. The first digits of his left hand had disappeared,
leaving instead, completely healed stumps! The shock of the collision
restored my sanity and I helped Sands to his feet.

"We cast quick glances at the sphere. It had moved from the opening of
the pit, now lighted brilliantly red, and was whirling at the top of
the column in the center of the pool! Gradually the high-pitched scream
became a steady hum. The sphere was spinning faster and faster under
the whirling pressure of the column. The ball was changing slowly into
cylindrical shape, with a sharp-pointed nose and concave butt which
gradually thinned out. I stared with unbelief. Surely my brain was
playing pranks. I shot a glance at Sands. The old fellow seemed like a
statue, immobile as a rock. Insanity was gripping him, I could see, and
I screamed.

"Suddenly, the hum of the sphere's rapid whirling motion ceased. Like a
bullet shaped projectile it shot into the air, charging it with sparks
of pale green lights that drifted back into the pool and settled. We
caught a glimpse of the projectile as it leaped from the column. That
was all. Immediately it was gone leaving behind only the floating green
lights that, even in the radiance of midday, shone brilliantly. The
fearful scream of its passing through the atmosphere gradually died
away as its distance increased. At my scream Sands had regained control
of himself. He placed a palsied hand on my shoulder and stared at me
incredulously.

"'Did you see it, pardner?' he asked, completely unnerved.

"'Yes!' I answered, 'I've seen it whatever the thing was!'

"Sands stared at me, mouth agape.

"'Pardner,' he said, 'you look like a ghost! Your face and hands are
turning green! Your skin is getting the same color as the stuff in the
pool!'

"'You don't look like a white man yourself, Sands,' I managed to jest
at him, trying to control my agitation.

"'Maybe,' he returned, somewhat calmed, 'but, by jingle, I'm beginning
to feel younger! Maybe this is that fountain of youth the old spics
raved about!'

"'You must have just come into your second childhood,' I smiled back at
him, weakly. He managed to grin and I saw something that startled me
almost as much as did the luminous sphere.

"Sands' face was actually clearing! Deep furrowed wrinkles that had
marked him as an old man, sun-hardened and leathery, were vanishing
from his face! Except for a month's growth of beard, he appeared to
have dropped, in those few minutes, many years of his age. His brown
eyes that were dim, and watery, were taking on a sparkle that signifies
the vigorous health of youth. His bowed shoulders straightened. In
spite of the rapid change he was going through, the greenish hue
remained to mar his features with a ghastly pallor caused, no doubt, by
the radio-active power of the radium. As for myself, I could feel no
change in my physical being. I wondered if the great radium deposit was
to blame. I knew that science held transmutation of elements possible
and has even accomplished it in a small way and that radium itself is
the product of disintegration of uranium and ionium.

"For some reason, Sands and I felt better after the hurtling projectile
had lifted from the whirling pool and passed into the infinite. After
a short conference we decided to investigate the strange phenomenon we
had witnessed, and at the same time continue our search for Allie Lane
and her father, or whatever traces of them might remain. Our brains
were clear as bells now, our wits sharp in spite of so many strange
happenings that occurred since early that morning. After it all, we
thought, we could not be surprised at anything that might arise in the
future, and we might as well explore further, the weird circular cave
and the black hole which we noticed still retained its red glow. Sands
remarked that if the red glow continued to illuminate the cave from
which had come the whirling sphere, there would be no need of the small
carbide lamp I had in my pack still strapped to my shoulders. The only
thing that seemed to worry us was the absence of water. Our canteens
were practically empty and naturally we wanted to refill them if we
could. We seemed to have no thirst and a strange comfort appeased the
dryness of our throats.

"We single-filed along the edge of the pool toward the luminous red
cave. In several minutes we had reached the entrance to our glowing
objective. At the entrance of the cave with its glow of red radiancy,
Sands and I paused before entering. What we saw there caused Sands to
leap backward. I stood stock still, awed at the sight, not knowing what
to do.

"On either side of the cave, hung intact were the skeletons of two
human beings! With skulls grinning like green ghosts, the skeletons
hung against the side butts of the cave's entrance! Weirdly radiant
with the pale green hue, the bones stood out in high relief against the
red glow of the strange illumination as though to warn us that to go
further meant doom.

"I turned at the sound of Sands' getting to his feet. He stood at my
side, mouth agape.

"'That, pardner,' he said, softly, 'means the end of our search! I have
hoped for the best for Allie and her dad, but what we see now tells the
story of their deaths!'

"Sands doffed his hat and hung his head in reverence. I did likewise
for I was thinking along the same lines. Sadly I lifted my head and
again speculated on the skeletons. I was trying to figure who might
have hung those grisly relics on the wall of the cavern. Whoever it
was, I thought, had scant respect for the dead! The two could at least
have been given decent burials. I clenched my fists and swore. Sands
lifted his head suddenly at the oaths which escaped my lips. His hand
grasped my sleeve.

"'What's wrong, pardner?' he asked, with a trace of anger in his voice.

"'I'm just wondering, Sands,' I replied, 'how they came to be hung up
there like that. They couldn't hang themselves in suicide and the bones
remain intact. Let's look closer!'

"We moved closer to the dangling relics. As I had implied, the bones
were linked together with wire and hung against the wall with metal
pegs!

"'The dogs!' Sands hissed in my ear, his voice steady and as strong as
a young man of twenty-five. I looked at him curiously and indeed, he
was a young man again, save for his whiskers. Strangely, I thought, had
we actually come upon the mythical Fountain of Youth that the early
Spaniards actually believed existed in one of the Seven Lost Cities of
Cibola? Were we about to find, here in Death Valley, one of those seven
cities? Hardly! My imagination must be running wild, I thought.

"'Maybe some prospector had found these deposits, Sands,' I whispered,
'and hung those skeletons there to keep others away. It's not
impossible.'

"'No,' Sands said, 'it's not impossible, but it isn't likely! Skeletons
wouldn't frighten a man away from a great wealth like lies here. Your
idea don't explain that crazy ball of metal, either. I think there's
more to this than shows on the surface.'

"'Perhaps you're right at that,' I acknowledged, 'but who in hell would
want to hang a couple of grinning skeletons out here like that? By the
way did you compare the bones?'

"'Yes, I did compare them and I'm convinced that they are the bones of
two men. Neither is a woman! They are not Allie and her father!'

"I felt better at that. Buoyed up by the discovery, Sands' never dying
hope that he would still find his lost sweetheart Allie Lane, expressed
itself in his features.

"'And I feel that Allie is alive,' he continued. 'I don't know why I
feel it. It might be what we call a coincidence or just a hunch, but I
think we'll find her near here!'

"'Poor girl,' I muttered.

"I expected to find the age-whitened bones of Allie Lane and her father
but events seemed to have bred within me a belief such as Sands'.




                                  IV

                           _Into the Cavern_


"I felt that our search was at its end when we beheld the two
skeletons, but our observations told us that they were the remains
of two heavy-set men, one of whom had the ball of an old time bullet
lodged in his right wrist bone. We concluded that they had been a
couple of frontier bandits or prospectors who wandered onto the
Manalava Plain and died there of thirst. Sands strode over to the wall
and lifted a skeleton from the pegs. I watched him with amazement. The
rattle of the bones sounded oddly in the crater. He threw one and then
the other into the pool. As we watched, intently, the bones slowly sank
and vanished until there was nothing left. The stuff must have been
horribly thick and viscous to retain it on the surface so long.

"'That's about the best burial they'll ever get,' he muttered. 'I'd
hate to die knowing that my bones would be hung on a wall to frighten
folks away!'

"I agreed with Sands. He seemed a different man altogether from the
wrinkled old gent to whom I had been accustomed. With many of his years
gone, and apparently young again, he was wide-awake to the adventures
at hand. Without further words, he strode lightly to the entrance of
the luminous cavern. I followed, choosing to be led rather than lead.

"Carefully we picked our way into the tunnel which widened perceptibly
beyond the entrance. Inside, the red glow was more pronounced.
Sparkling gems, cropping out of the walls, glittered brilliantly
under the red radiance. A well-worn path led along the center of the
cavern's floor and we followed it for perhaps a hundred yards on a
downward angle of probably five or six degrees. We observed small caves
branching off from the main tunnel, but we continued along the trail of
the larger one.

"Suddenly, as we picked our way along the path, we heard the sounds
of a dismal chant. Steadily the sound increased. The entire cavern
reverberated with the ominous sound and almost from the moment it
reached our ears, we found ourselves in total darkness! The entrance
of the cave which had previously been open to the sunlight and looked
bright and inviting from the cavern's interior, was now totally dark!
The inky blackness was as oppressing as the damp, stagnant air was
nauseating. I reached out and grabbed Sands' arm so that we would not
get separated. At the same time I jerked my gun out of the holster.
Sands grunted when he heard the click of the hammer being drawn back
under the thumb.

"'Don't shoot until you're sure what you're shootin' at, pard,' he
whispered in my ear. 'I think I hear footsteps off there to the left.
Get around me or let me have the hog-laig!'

"'I hear something in back of me, Sands,' I replied, a little
nervously. 'Something seems to be flyin' around our heads like bats but
I don't hear the whirr of wings!'

"'Don't move then!' he advised.

"'That's a hell of a racket, ain't it?' I remarked, trying to control
my agitation.

"We stood closer together in the blackness. The tunnel reeked with an
evil odor that was sweet and lung-tickling. I have smelled something
like that before in caves where wild cats had holed up, but this was a
thousand times stronger.

"'No use standing here, pardner,' Sands whispered softly, 'I can't hear
any more footsteps and the bats seem to have vanished. Suppose you
light up the carbide lamp. I want to look around in here but not in the
dark. Might fall into a hole!'

"'Let's stand still a few more minutes,' I said. 'I'm a little uneasy
about this. I want to get my bearings for a line on that opening where
we came in. Looks like the hole has been closed up.'

"'That hole couldn't be closed without us hearing it!'

"'With that noise down below you couldn't hear it anyhow!' I argued.
'Sounds like a pack of demons thirstin' for blood!'

"'It don't sound any too good, I'll admit that,' Sands acknowledged.
'It might be wind caused by an underground suction, or chlorine gas
blowing out of a volcanic fissure. The stink smells like chlorine gas.'

"We peered into the darkness trying to penetrate a solid wall of
unfathomable black. My eyes ached under the strain. I removed my hand
from Sands' arm to rub them.

"Suddenly a darting light passed like a meteor through the blackness
above, showering green, luminous sparks to the floor of the cave! In
the brilliant light I caught sight of Sands' features. The expression
on his face told me that he had barely missed being struck by the
glaring missile. He yelled loudly to drop down flat, as another light
in the form of a sphere apparently of molten metal, darted over us,
dropping a shower of floating sparks.

"Instantly the meteor-like ball was followed by other bright,
swift-moving lights which passed perilously close to us and raced to
the end of the tunnel toward the entrance. Their passing was marked by
a low, droning hum of a likeness to the drone of the big sphere that
had been shot from the whirling column in the center of the pool.

"Lying flat on our backs on the hard lava floor of the cavern back
there under the terrible Manalava Plains, Sands and I watched the space
above us. Closer and closer came a steady stream of brilliant lights
that permeated the already nauseating air with the odor of burning
carbon! I raised my gun several times to fire at one of the lights but
thought better of it until I was sure of hitting the mark. Meanwhile I
began to think what might happen should I actually succeed in striking
one of them. I asked Sands' advice. He suggested that I try my luck.

"I raise my head a little to look down into the tunnel. Issuing from
what appeared to be a deep hole perhaps a half mile ahead, came a
spinning ball of glaring fire. It hovered for an instant over the
yawning, luminous hole and then darted in our direction at a terrific
speed. I lifted my gun from my hip. When the light was near enough, I
pulled the trigger.

"The sharpness of the concussion filled me with fear, but in the
instant the light was gone. Only a shower of sparks remained to prove
that my slug had gone true. The sparks lay on the tunnel floor, glowing
like lumps of molten copper, green and red.

"We lay on the ground for several minutes more. Then I nudged Sands. We
walked along the path for perhaps a dozen feet and then I realized that
our sense of direction was gone altogether. We were completely lost
in a strange world of blackness pierced only by mysterious lights and
sounds, of whose origin I could not guess.

"Presently we realized that it was folly to wander around when any step
might precipitate us into unknown dangers. I had an unpleasant feeling
of helpless fear that was gradually overcoming my reasoning powers
again.

"At times I looked fearfully to the right and left, but saw nothing
but blackness. The glowing remains of the light had long since died
out and the cave was once again in total darkness. There was no life,
no sound, no motion except for the movements of Sands and me. Allie
Lane at that time was very remote from my thoughts. I was thinking
of personal safety and although I had some assurance in the feel of
my gun in my hand and its effectiveness on the dangerous lights, I
was nevertheless fearful. I felt the panic of utter isolation from
humanity. I was in a different world entirely!

"Sands suggested again that I get out my carbide lamp. I hesitated,
fearful lest our positions be clearly defined in the light, and lay us
open to further danger from the fast floating lights and their sources.

       *       *       *       *       *

"Stagnation--everything stinking and stale! The cavern smelled of sheer
funk. It curled our nostrils and nauseated our stomachs to such an
extent that I became violently ill temporarily.

"'Let's get out of here, Sands!' I whispered. 'I think we are headed
into the cave and if we turn around we can reach the opening.'

"'We can try it. I'd like to get a breath of air.'

"'Hold on to me then,' I said, 'we'll get out!'

"'Maybe!'

"With Sands holding onto my arm we turned around and began a slow,
deliberate walk back to what we thought was the entrance of the cave,
long since dark. For perhaps fifteen minutes we picked our way along
the cave not knowing what step might sink us into death.

"Suddenly I collided with a solid wall. Around the edges the sunlight
of the outer world flickered and I knew that it was the entrance to the
cave.

"We were stunned when we discovered that the entrance had been closed
solidly with massive slabs of rock! The air was less heavy and stagnant
here and we sat down after a strenuous effort to roll back the rock
wall that trapped us. We rested, motionless on the floor of the cave. I
could not see Sands but sounds of his heavy, even breathing came to me.
We were too exhausted even to speak but I suddenly felt the pangs of
hunger.

"I slipped my pack from my shoulders and felt within it. I handed Sands
several squares of hardtack and a bar of chocolate for which he mumbled
his thanks. Ravenously I devoured my ration; then got out my carbide
lamp and toyed with it.

"As I sat I noticed that the low moaning sounds that we had previously
heard were again issuing from deep within the cave. I shuddered. The
sounds beat terrifically on my brain and in my terror I drew my gun and
fired four shots rapidly toward the interior.

"Instantly the hole was a bedlam! I leaped to my feet to run but
tripped over Sands' outstretched feet and tumbled to the floor.

"'Take it easy, pardner!' Sands advised, softly, his voice quivering.
At his calm words I lay down quietly.

"You cannot conceive my terror. Could I have but known the reasons
and the causes for the many things we had seen and the incidents that
happened, I would have been better able to control myself. Terrified, I
lay on the floor of the cave and it was a long time before I was able
to think. Meanwhile the cavern was in pandemonium. The moaning sounds
had again become a wail which gradually developed into high-pitched
shrieking. I expected momentarily to see another huge whirling sphere
shooting toward the entrance of the cave where we lay panic-stricken.

"To my horror, the cave began to lighten with the green luminous glow,
and a score of yards beyond I saw what appeared to be a sluggish red
stream, thick and mucky, flowing toward us. I kicked at Sands to draw
his attention to it.

"'I see it, pardner,' he whispered. 'What do you think it is?'

"'Lord!' I answered. 'If I only knew!'

"'Let me have your lamp. I'm going to take a chance on lighting it.
We've got to get out of here!'

"My blood turned cold at the mention of the carbide lamp. For the first
time I learned that it was not in my hands! At my attempt to run, I
thought I must have dropped the lamp with my pack. At any rate it was
gone! We crawled around the floor of the cave hoping to feel it. The
murky green glow in the tunnel did not help us any at all. It only
added to the disguise of the cave's interior.

"Sands cursed me for a fool at allowing the lamp to drop from my hands,
leaving us without a means of penetrating the darkness. My pack, which
I had placed on my knees before me, when digging out our rations, was
gone likewise. Nowhere could they be found. We searched the floor of
the cave minutely in the sickly green light but without success.

"Suddenly the cave became brilliant with light. The suddenness of the
change from darkness blinded my eyes and instinctively my hands shot up
to cover them. It stunned me for a moment and then I looked around.

"I stared incredulously at the sight; then turned to look at Sands. He
was poised on his hands and knees, stopped by the sudden light, in his
search for the lamp and the grub pack. His mouth hung open. I looked up
again.

"Standing around us in a circle stood a score of the strangest man-like
beings I ever beheld. They stood motionless, surveying us. Towering
high above Sands and me, the strangers looked down through great
eyes that blinked slow and deliberate like owls' orbs in the night.
Instinctively my hand shot down to my gun butt. When it neared the
metal it stopped and I jerked my hand away. The gun seemed charged with
powerful electricity! I managed to grin foolishly under the glare of
two-score blinking eyes. Then I made a careful appraisal of the beings
surrounding us.

"Tall in stature--probably seven feet high, they towered above us. With
great heads void of hair, powerful bull necks, barrel chests and long
skinny limbs that appeared to be of rubber like the tentacles on the
weird cactus back on the Manalava Plain, the creatures to the human
eye, were repulsively grotesque! Their arms, thin and sinuous, like
their legs, seemed of rubber and they hung motionless at their sides.
I looked for hands. There were none. At the ends of the tentacle-like
arms, there seemed to be sucker-like cups like the end of an elephant's
trunk!

"For several moments they stood appraising us. Likewise we studied
them. I noticed that above their heads waved two thin, flexible tubes
that curled at the end and were attached to the brows just above
their owlish orbs. Like the antennae on a desert butterfly, the tubes
twitched this way and that! The absence of ears at the sides of their
flat heads added bestiality to their repulsive features, and their
mouths, like the jaws of a toad, were pointed and bony! Each had the
face of a frog and all looked alike except that the creature standing
nearest to me and in front of the rest, was perhaps a head taller. He
wore a brightly-hued belt of metal around his narrow, skinny hips.

"The big fellow's tubes at his forehead were waving nervously. I stared
at him blankly for I had a peculiar feeling that somehow he was trying
to speak to me. I shot an inquiring glance at Sands. He was still in
the same position. His knit brows displayed a growing uneasiness.
Surely, I thought, these grotesque fellows were not hostile, otherwise
they would have made short work of us!

"I crawled slowly to my feet and stood erect in front of the repellant
fellow, who was apparently the leader of the frog-featured beings. His
green, luminous face was tilted down to me and from it radiated the
warmth of radium. He towered three heads above me and I felt like a
pigmy beside him and equally as helpless.

"'Well--,' I managed to say, in astonishment.

"His tubes stood out stiff and motionless. A strange power seemed to
be penetrating into my crazed brain and his attitude made me feel that
he was reading my thoughts. Suddenly my brain was struck with a direct
question, although I heard no voice.

"'What are you doing here?' a strange, silent voice seemed to ask.

"In answer my thoughts asked the same question and instinctively my
lips blurted out the words evasively. The awesome creature snapped his
frog-like mouth and his antennae stood rigid.

"'Answer me!' The silent demand was hostile under the glare of his
owlish orbs.

"My hand hung close to the butt of my gun but I kept my fingers from
touching it. My brain was a whirl of thoughts, making clear thinking
impossible. There seemed to be a peculiar power continually stirring
my brain, building up slowly an explanation for our presence there. I
opened my mouth to speak but the strange power ordered me to keep it
shut and to think. I looked around for Sands. He was standing at my
side, his face as green as the ghastly faces in front of me. I felt
somewhat assured by his presence and then my thoughts raced, omitting
no episode of the long search by my partner for his sweetheart, Allie
Lane. My thoughts told of tracing Allie and her father to the radium
pool and how, on discovering the cave, we had decided to search within
it for some remains of the ill-fated friends of Sands.

"In my excitement I blurted the question: 'Has anyone here ever heard
of Allie Lane--have you ever seen her?'

"The big fellow turned his tubes towards Sands as though to question
him. Sands must have been thinking terrible things about the grotesque
beings who stood around us, for the big fellow reached out a
rubber-like arm and suddenly circled it around his neck. Jerked from
his feet, Sands fell to the floor with a curse.

"'Get him pardner!' he yelled at me. 'Shoot him!'

"The suddenness of the hostile move against my friend naturally forced
me into action and in spite of the peculiar heat in the metal of my
gun, I drew it from its holster and fired point blank into the big
fellow's face.

"I expected to see him fall and the others dash away but the fellow
merely croaked like a frog and tightened his hold upon Sands. A small,
round hole appeared in his face where my slug had struck him just below
the left eye. A yellow liquid that glowed like fire, trickled out of
the hole for an instant, then vanished as the wound rapidly closed up!
I jammed my gun into the holster, amazed and fearful.

"Instantly the circle of strange creatures tightened around us. We were
doomed men, I thought, as I was roughly lifted into the arms of one of
the frog-faced beings!




                                   V

                             _The Jovians_


"Both Sands and I were carried on the broad chests of the mysterious
creatures far into the cavern. They made several abrupt descents and
the oppressive air told me that we were far below the surface of the
Manalava Plain! Their movements were rapid and forceful and their
long skinny legs bore their weight remarkably well, although they
wobbled like strutting geese. During the entire course, the tunnel was
brilliant with changing colors of various hues from green to red and
vermilion--everchanging.

"As I lay cradled in the tentacle-like arms of the big brute who
carried me, I smelled his evil breath. The odor was the same nauseating
smell that had curled our nostrils and threatened to explode our lungs
on several occasions since we entered the cavern. With each slow blink
of his eye-lids, there was an accompanying metallic click. Occasionally
he opened his toad-like mouth and when he closed it hard, bony lips
snapped like the spring of a trap. Sands was being borne along by a
broad-backed creature in front of me. I could see his head bobbing with
each wobbly step of the beast and I knew that he was unconscious.

"I felt worried about Sands. The grip of the big fellow's arm around
his throat could have broken the spine of an ox without any effort. I
cursed the brutes venomously. The fellow bearing me tightened his grip
around my chest and I was forced to gasp for breath. When I became
quiet he loosened his hold. I felt a searing welt rise across my body.

"Presently we were carried into a great, circular chamber far below
the surface of the Manalava Plain! The chamber was luminous with the
strange, pale green color. In the center spun a huge glowing sphere and
it was surrounded by smaller spheres, each spinning in an atmosphere of
its own--like the earth--with its suns and moons revolving around it.
The huge ball in the center seemed to float in air without any visible
support. The smaller spheres likewise spun in mid-air at perhaps a
forty-five degree angle from the large one. They emitted a high-pitched
whine as they spun.

"My eyes, now accustomed to the luminous glow, searched every corner
of the chamber. To the right, standing on a flat rock platform, were
three massive chairs of green metal that was studded with precious
stones. The chairs were vacant.

"Lined around the circular chamber were several hundred more of
the grotesque creatures who had carried Sands and me far into the
underground world. They stood motionless as though at attention. From
deep in the bowels of the earth came a clanging of bells and each
creature in the chamber, with the exception of the two who bore Sands
and me across their chests, hung their heads. I heard the scraping of
rock against rock over to my right and I allowed my gaze to wander
there.

"A huge circular slab of rock was rolling away from an entrance
into the chamber. I watched it intently until its removal exposed a
glittering doorway. I had become so engrossed in watching the door
that I failed to notice that I was being carried toward the platform.
As I was borne nearer to the three chairs, I observed standing in the
opening the majestic figure of a huge, bestial creature, bedecked in
purple and gold robes of a metal that glistened blindingly. The fellow
carrying me halted before the platform and placed me on the floor. The
tall figure in the doorway moved quickly out of the entrance and walked
stiff-legged toward the chairs.

"From his dignity I at once accepted him as the king or chief of the
grotesque frog-men. I stood erect, my gaze following him. He appeared
not to take the slightest interest in me. I looked around as he neared
what I accepted as his throne. Sands was lying still on the broad
chest of the brute who had carried him in. His head hung loosely on
his shoulders. Disconsolately, my gaze again returned to the majestic
figure on the throne. He sat stiffly, the tubes above his eyes waving
slowly. While my interest was centered on Sands' lifeless body, two
other beings had followed the High Chief onto the throne and sat in the
chairs on either side of him.

"To my uttermost surprise I beheld two human beings sitting beside
the High Chief, one on either side! And one was a young woman, gaily
adorned in brilliant robes of purple and gold! Her wealth of golden
brown hair shimmered in the pale green light of the chamber. Her eyes
were motionless and she looked out over the room like one in a trance.
Her finely cut features and appealing blue eyes caused my pulse to beat
more rapidly than ever before in all my life. My whole body tingled
with exaltation. I had an impression that her features bore a distinct
resemblance to some beautiful face that I had seen before. She stared
straight ahead with unblinking eyes. I was unable to remove my eyes
from her. Where had I seen that fascinating, clear-cut face? Whose
features were they? Ah--I had it!

"Instantly I decided to look again at the photograph Sands had found in
the old album back at the spring! Perhaps it was the photograph that
had given me the impression of having at some past time beheld the
gentle features of the girl.

"I walked unmolested, over to Sands' limp form and reached inside his
vest. He was beginning to show signs of life when I brought forth the
well-preserved photograph that he said was the picture of Allie Lane
for whom we had been searching.

"Every owlish eye in that great assembly of unearthly beings was
riveted on me as I strode, photograph in hand, toward the platform. The
dignified leader sat motionless on the throne and regarded me through
saucer-like orbs. I felt, even though no sounds issued from his mouth,
that he was conversing steadily with our capturers. The tubes, just
above his broad forehead, waved in all directions as though catching
thought waves being broadcast by the others in the chamber.

"The girl sat in stony immobility. The man on the other side of the
High Chief was likewise motionless, his eyes staring straight ahead.
The man was slightly wrinkled around the mouth though he looked to be
no older than thirty. His jet black hair which had been freshly combed,
glistened as from oil. Was this man Alfred Forsythe Lane, father of
the beautiful girl whose trail led us to the edge of the radium pool?
Hardly, I thought.

"At the edge of the platform I halted, photograph held up before my
eyes. For a moment I was utterly stunned! The photograph showed the
same delicately rounded chin, finely shaped lips and radiant blue eyes
that marked the beauty of the girl in the chair! I stumbled backward a
few steps in my astonishment.

"'Allie Lane!' I must have shouted at the top of my lungs, for I heard
a patter of feet that brought Driftin' Sands to my side. I looked
at him. His face was white even under the luminous green glow that
affected him.

"'My God!' he breathed in amazement. 'It's Allie!'

"With a leap Sands jumped to her side on the platform.

"Instantly the High Chief raised an arm menacingly and a thin shaft
of green light shot from the sucker-like tip at the end. Sands placed
a wearied hand over his eyes, a small round spot, the color of chalk,
appeared on his brow as he sank to the floor heavily. Allie Lane moved
her finely shaped head with its brown hair hanging in thin wisps
curled around her temples, and stared blankly at her fallen lover. She
quivered slightly and raised her dainty white hands to her temples as
though striving to bring a return of memory. Presently she gave it up
with a shudder and continued to stare straight in front of her. The
gaze rested upon me, I felt, and I shifted my own uneasily, helplessly.
The grotesque people of the underground had displayed their protective
powers on several occasions and I was aware of what my fate would be if
I interfered to aid my friend. Whether Sands was dead or merely stunned
I could not guess, but I accepted the former readily enough.

"Expecting momentarily to feel the tingle of radium rays carrying
me into oblivion, I hung my head. I stood limply at the edge of the
platform, full of sorrow over the turn of affairs. Here was Sands, at
the end of a forty-year search for his lost sweetheart--the only living
thing that had kept him alive--and there was Allie Lane, probably
broken in mind and spirit and unable to go to him. Now, I thought,
his life was snuffed out while he stood on the very verge of complete
happiness. I offered a prayer to our Maker to re-unite them again and
let them enjoy the happiness that was theirs by right of nature and
heritage!

"I didn't think how strange it was at the time for Allie Lane to
be sitting there as fresh in the glory of youth as she was when the
photograph had been made of her back in Kansas City forty years ago!
I only knew that we had found her. I looked at Sands. He was lying in
a heap where he had fallen. No move had been made on the part of the
giant tunnel-dwellers to aid him. Certainly I could not! One move and
I would meet with the same fate. I was not ready to die. I strained
hard to think of some way to help him--to learn if he was dead. Some
irresistible influence was smothering all thought. It was then I
realized that I was being questioned by the High Chief on the throne.
I cast a quick glance past Allie Lane at him. His antennae tubes were
pointed straight toward me. I felt the strange power that seemed to
pass from his tubes to my mind. I shuddered for it gave me a terrific
pain at the base of my skull. Nevertheless I steeled myself for the
ordeal of questioning that I knew would follow. A peculiar feeling came
over me. I felt that I was gradually rising out of my physical body. It
was an incredible sensation. Then my brain grasped a vibratory mental
question. I seemed in a trance.

"'You, Man of the Earth, what brings you into forbidden country?'

"The peculiar eerie question gave me a faint feeling that some time
in the dim past I had heard it asked of me through a similar process.
I glanced down at my feet. They were invisible. I seemed to hang,
eyes only, suspended in a murky haze. Before me, on the throne, sat
the three silent figures glowing brightly and tinged with a greenish
hue. Sands' inert body seemed to have vanished! I strove to answer my
questioner. My lips moved but I could hear no words. My brain told
me that an answer was taking definite shape, but it would not be the
answer the monster sought!

"'Forbidden country here in America?' I answered him silently. 'Why you
must be crazy!'

"At that his saucer-like eyes blinked rapidly. His frog-like beak
opened and a red, fiery tongue flicked out of a luminous opening that
was his throat. The chamber was in stony silence. Only the click of the
High Chief's huge eye-lids broke the stillness.

"'You, Man of the Earth,' the words telegraphed to my brain. 'Dare
you jest with me? Do you know that I, Abaris, second in command of
Jupiter and the entire Universe, have the power and the right to forbid
anything or condemn any world!'

"His words struck me as inexplicably funny. How silly and absurd, I
thought, was this sudden boast of power from such a hideous, grotesque
freak. Had he ever heard of the great armies of the United States that
could fly over the Manalava Plain and annihilate his entire band of
frog-like freaks? Hardly, I thought. I felt my lips curl up in scorn at
his vanity.

"'By what right have you to condemn and destroy?' I asked, more
controlled.

"His flat beak opened in a froggish attempt to laugh. A peculiar
cackling sound, issued from his cavernous throat. He seemed to be
enjoying himself hugely.

"'For a lowly creature like yourself, Man of the Earth, who is doomed,
you speak strong words! What right have I to annihilate you? Why,
ignorant one, I have the right by all the power of the Universe! I
have the power of civilization ten million years in advance of your
aboriginal powers! We, your superiors by millenniums, could condemn
your earth to complete and instantaneous destruction should we so
desire!'

"This lengthy message, telegraphed to my stunned brain, caused me to
wonder what sort of beings these creatures were, from where they had
come and what was their mission here. Certainly, the owl-eyed freak
talked like a military lord. I began to feel that I was the proverbial
mouse and the cat was merely playing with me for his own amusement. The
strange power the High Chief had displayed in striking Sands to the
floor, awed me considerably. Of a certainty, we men on earth boasted
of no such strange weapons that shot pencil-thin light rays and killed
instantly and silently. Perhaps this giant freak was not boasting after
all.

"In spite of my sudden fears that perhaps this tribe of strange
creatures might be able to bring into play powers far superior to our
own, I still felt contempt and scorn for them. To have my partner--my
friend in years of toil and sorrow, suddenly struck down by the beasts
when he had found joy, was enough to bring out my hatred. The fact that
they held captive two human beings like myself, one a woman, under a
strange influence, only piled fuel onto the fires of my fury.

"'What have you done with my friend, O Abaris, Great and Exalted Ruler
of the boundless Universe?' I sneered contemptuously. 'Such a Great
and Glorious Ruler as you must take great pleasure in striking down an
unarmed man!'

"'I smite the hand that harms, Man of the Earth!' his soundless words
shot back, hostilely.

"'His was not the hand that harms, O Brave Abaris! His was the hand of
love and loyalty--with a mind of sorrow and grief!'

"At this juncture I shot a glance at Allie Lane. Her profile was
beautiful as she turned toward the grotesque creature sitting
majestically at her side. Her eyes looked up into the owlish orbs
appealingly. My heart jumped suddenly and I felt a lump rising in my
throat. The High Chief Abaris looked down at her through wide lids.
One of his snaky, tube-like arms writhed upward and encircled her soft
shoulders. His head tubes hung drooped in apparent affection for this
beautiful girl for whom Sands had spent the best part of his life in
constant search. I cursed the huge beast roundly.

"I understood it now. The frightful brute had saved Allie Lane from
a horrible death, and through some process unknown to man, he had
retained within her the youth and beauty that was hers when he found
her at the edge of the radium pool! He must have jealously guarded
that youth through the passing of the years that had made Sands, her
loyal suitor, an old and broken man! What was the secret of the strange
process? Was it the radio-active qualities of the radium that had
retained her youth as well as restored the youth of Driftin' Sands? If
so, then why hadn't I gone through the same change? Then I remembered
that Sands had accidentally dipped his fingers into the radium pool,
burning off the tips. The radium must then have sent life-giving
qualities surging through his veins and restored the worn and frayed
nerves and tissue of his body! The same injection, but through a
different process, I thought, must have been applied to the youthful
body of Allie Lane. Her father, too, must necessarily have gone through
the same procedure, else how could he have been restored to youth? Why
had he been permitted to live at all? Surely, now, his years had passed
the century mark!

"But, I thought, Allie Lane would have been better off had she died at
the pool! With such a beast as the frog-featured Abaris constantly in
her vision and showering her with his affections, a terrible life at
best must have been hers! And Abaris must have read Sands' thoughts,
too, before he struck the man down. He seemed to take great pride in
his possession of the beautiful feminine creature, I felt, and guarded
her zealously from others.

       *       *       *       *       *

"Suddenly my subconscious mind reeled under the pressure of Abaris'
strange power of mental telepathy. He rolled his great bald head aside
and with owlish eyes, languidly regarded me. My gaze became fastened
on his steadily blinking lids. Their metallic clap-clap-clap-clap as
they opened and closed, sounded dismally throughout the chamber which
was now lighted only with a pale green glow. The three figures on the
throne, a deeper green but tinged with a brilliant red aurora, sat
quietly. I wondered what had become of Driftin' Sands.

"Abaris' grotesque features stood out abruptly and seemed almost as fair
as Allie Lane and her father, under the mixture of colors that glowed
from the green and red hues. His great eyes bored into mine so deeply
that I felt a sudden panic seize me.

"'You, ignorant Man of the Earth, have seen the power of Jupiter,
greatest and most powerful planet in the Universe!' Abaris' words,
booming and unspoken, reached my mind. I thought it strange that these
grotesque beings could converse in my own language and by mental
process at that.

"'Yes,' I admitted reluctantly. 'I have seen them! But do you know that
one of our American bombing planes could fly over here and blow you and
your crowd to hell?'

"Abaris' frog-like features parted in a grin. His throat rattled
mirthfully. I stared at him, awed.

"'Hoh, hoh, hoooah!' My mind throbbed under the force of his booming
mental laugh. 'Why, lowly worm!' he shot, his tubes pointing straight
at me, 'If I but minded to I could destroy your entire world with one
little globule of radium!'

"'What do you mean?' I asked with a sudden desire to learn all I could
concerning these strangers and their awe-inspiring powers.

"'Just this!' Abaris said, evenly and with sarcasm, 'We of Jupiter are
so far your superiors that you are but worms in comparison. When your
people were still clinging by their tails we of Jupiter had already
mastered mathematics. During the years that followed and developed you
to your present state, we of Jupiter mastered many sciences--one of
which brings us to your world now. That is radium. We have mastered
radium in all its forms and we are therefore masters of the Universe
and all life in it.'

"'Well,' I said, 'why didn't you destroy us here on earth then if you
are so powerful? How did you get here on this earth if your planet is
Jupiter?'

"'We, Man of the Earth,' he said, amused, as though enjoying the mental
conversation immensely and taking great pride in the vast knowledge of
his people, 'we do not take life without cause, even though that life
is no more to us than your reptiles are to you!'

"'Then why did you kill my friend?' I queried, earnestly. 'Why have you
held these two white people with you?'

"'Your friend is unhurt physically, but mentally he now belongs to
Jupiter! His intentions were doubtful when he leaped up here beside
Eloli, whom your feeble mind refers to as Allie Lane! I should have
killed him instantly!'

"I felt unable to think of anything for a moment, and I stared
fascinated at the features that confronted me. I noticed that the
colors in the chamber were changing again and that the lackadaisical
visage of Abaris was growing more pronounced under the varying hues.
His saucer-like eye-lids continued their resounding clap-clap-clap like
the sound of shutters closing on a camera.

"'I don't believe you, Abaris!' my voice suddenly raised. 'You killed
him because you knew that he was Allie Lane's man by all the laws of
humanity on this world!'

"'What care we Jovians for the laws of your humanity!' Abaris' thought
wave struck me sharply. 'I could have killed you both instantly! You
were trespassing on forbidden ground and I therefore had the right to
remove you from it!'

"'How did you know we were here?' I asked.

"'Our sentinels on the surface informed us of your coming long before
you reached here. We had no intention of harming you unless you entered
the crater!'

"'Then that's why you hung up these skeletons out there--to scare us
away, eh?' I inquired. 'Did you think a few grinning skulls would make
us run?'

"'The skeleton of anything on this earth tends to frighten away
the living!' Abaris declared, nonchalantly. 'Even a dog will run
from the bones of its kind, why not you who are just a step higher
intellectually than the dog?'

"'You're a bragging cuss, aren't you, Abaris?' I shot back with
contempt and sarcasm. 'You've been misinformed as to the status of the
human race on this world! I could think up a better way to frighten a
man than that!'

"'We of Jupiter have many ways to frighten a man if you like to call
yourself such. But you see we are not particularly interested in
whether we frighten or not. You and your friend and these two humans
beside me are the first to have come here since we arrived from
Jupiter. We felt no need of methods to frighten others away!'

"My Lord! I thought, had these creatures come to this world from
another planet at a time when we on this world were crossing the
country in ox-drawn wagon trains? Had they arrived here before Allie
Lane and her father wandered into the Manalava Plain?

"'Yes, Man of the Earth,' Abaris' mental wave reached me in answer to
my thoughts. 'We dropped down from Jupiter, long before your people
began crossing your continent. We have been here exactly one hundred
of your years and we are now ready to return to Jupiter, if that
interests you. Our work here is completed. We return soon to our own
world; four hundred million miles away.'

"Four hundred million miles! My mind whirled with staggering figures
and I gave it up.

"'I can understand your mathematical deductions, Abaris,' I said, 'but
just the same I'm from Missouri and you have to prove to me that you
covered all that space just to visit this world. It is hard to believe
that any living thing can exist long enough to do it. It don't sound
possible!'

"'That's one of the failings of you Men of the Earth,' Abaris said,
evenly. 'You think that everything that does not come within your
scope of understanding is impossible. We of Jupiter long ago achieved
immortality. But why should I, Abaris, second in command of the great
Jupiter, explain to a lowly creature such as you, the vastly important
facts of interplanetary travel?'

"'You could tell me so I might inform my fellows on this earth that
it was actually performed. Otherwise I'll have to call you a liar!'
I said, with a false show of bravado. So far no harm had come to me,
and Abaris had informed me that Sands suffered no permanent physical
injury. I could afford to hold up my chin and meet on equal terms, with
the grotesque frog-men of Jupiter! What were they anyhow but unreal,
mechanical freaks?

"'Well, to tell the truth, your world will never learn the secret from
a Jovian, Man of the Earth!' Abaris' thought vibrations seemed to say.
'I might say that some day your scientists may evolve a medium for
interplanetary travel and we of Jupiter do not intend to shorten the
period of time when you will eventually try to visit us. You will not
be welcome!'

"'You're giving us a lot more credit than you have been saying was
due us, Abaris,' I remarked with a grin. 'I'm glad you have come
around to that. It makes me feel better to know that I'm a little more
intelligent than a crawling worm.'

"Suddenly the chamber brightened under the brilliance of the powerful
rays. Small spheres, spinning rapidly and glowing luminously, shot
restlessly to and fro in the far end of the chamber. At the sound they
made I instinctively turned to them for several seconds. When my eyes
again returned to Abaris and his two human companions, they were gone!
They had vanished apparently in thin air during the few short seconds
my eyes had wandered around the brilliantly lighted chamber.

"Save for an inert heap lying on the throne in the same position that I
had seen Sands when he had fallen, the chamber was completely deserted.
The spheres continued their back and forth movement as I dashed quickly
to Sands' side. At the close range I discovered that his body was
tinged with the same luminous glow that I had seen out-shining the
bodies of Abaris, Allie Lane and her father. Sands seemed stunned. He
was breathing but his lungs functioned laboriously.

"'Sands!' I cried, shaking him by the shoulder. 'Are you hurt?'

"From his lips issued a deep groan. I swung his inert body around for
a look at his face. The color of it was a deeper green than it had
been before. I stretched him out flat on his back and rubbed his numbed
hands to restore his circulation, but it availed me nothing. Then I
remembered that on my desert prospects I always carried a square lump
of camphor in my pockets to rub on my lips when they became parched
from the heat. I searched through my pockets for it and was overjoyed
when I found it. It was soft and spongy.

"Quickly I massaged Sands' lips and nostrils. Whether camphor would
serve in the place of the more powerful spirits of ammonia, I did not
know, but you can imagine my joy when his lids suddenly fluttered and
his lips parted. The camphor fumes had actually brought him out of
the faint into which the powerful rays from Abaris' deadly weapon had
thrown him.

"I laughed nervously. 'That's it, old timer!' I said, 'Snap out of
it! The devil said he didn't hurt you! We've got to get Allie and her
father out of here. These freaks are planning to get away from here in
a hurry, taking Allie and her dad with them. Sit still and take it easy
for a minute!'

"Sands sat very still for several minutes, his head resting in his
hands. I squatted on the floor of the platform beside him, my eyes
scouring every side of the circular chamber. To the right, the entrance
into the chamber through which had come Allie Lane, her father and
Abaris, stood open. The huge circular rock which must have weighed many
tons had not been replaced over the opening.

"The most conspicuous thing in the entire chamber was the fair-sized
globe in the center, resting on an axis and revolving rapidly. From the
distance I could see that it was lined with many criss-cross markings
and glowed as though containing a transparent liquid of a beautiful
emerald color, much similar to colored glass globes generally displayed
in drug store windows, in the city. Occasionally the brilliant spheres
that hung, spinning in mid-air, darted suddenly toward the larger globe
in the center. When one of the smaller spheres neared it, the central
ball emitted a peculiar high-pitched hum. The globes, combined with the
darting lights, gave me the impression that they must be used by the
Jovians for some astronomical purpose. The big sphere, I thought, must
represent the home planet of the grotesque beings. What else could they
be used for, I wondered? But I was due to learn much before I got out
of there.




                                  VI

                           _Sands Recovers_


"Presently Sands stood erect. He looked around him for several seconds,
evidently to get his bearings. I watched him nervously. What had Abaris
meant when he said that 'mentally Sands belonged to Jupiter?' I knew
when I looked into Sands' eyes. Like fathomless abysses, his eyes
glowed like sulphurous fires. The pupils had grown until they seemed
to disappear into the rim entirely! He seemed to be in the same trance
that had held Allie Lane's and her father's eyes staring straight ahead
without apparently comprehensive powers.

"When I spoke to him he merely stared blankly, although I was certain
that he understood my words. His lips moved to answer but no words
formed in his throat.

"I shook him by the arm.

"'I think,' I said to him, pointing to the opening from which Abaris
had come into the chamber and into which he had doubtless vanished,
'that we had better find Allie Lane and her father if we hope to get
out of here alive. You know that she's here and alive, don't you,
Sands?'

"To me it appeared that he made an attempt to speak when he heard
Allie's name mentioned, but he merely stared dumbly. At any rate I
believed he understood what I had said.

"'If we can get to Allie and her father without these critters knowing
it,' I whispered into his ear, 'she might be able to point a way out of
here. If we can get out I'll strike toward Stovepipe Wells and send a
telegram to Los Angeles asking for help. I'm afraid we'll need a couple
of bombing planes from San Pedro to get us out of this mess!'

"I grabbed him by the arm and hustled him toward the circular shaft
leading from the chamber. He came readily enough but when I loosened
the pressure on his arm he stood there, stock still. He seemed to have
no will power whatever and his legs moved only because I hustled him
along.

"As we entered the only open shaft leading out of the chamber, a
high-pitched musical note became audible. I wondered if our movements
had sounded some mysterious warning. As we continued on into the
luminous tunnel that glittered with deposits of priceless gems, the
musical note rose higher and higher so that it seemed to tax the sense
of hearing to its uttermost. Questioningly I turned to Sands. One of
his trembling hands was chafing his temples with thumb and forefinger.
The sound gradually became a wail like the metallic scream we had
heard before entering the cave that led down to the chamber.

"Suddenly I became aware that Sands had broken the influence that
had held him! With a frenzied scream he leaped aside and away from
me. I gazed in wonder at the man as he crouched like a beast at bay.
I expected him momentarily to spring at my throat. But he finally
recognized me and became controlled when I assured him the Jovians were
not in sight. His first questions were of Allie Lane. Had he really
seen her, he wanted to know, or had he been suffering from a brain
fever? Was she really alive--as beautiful as ever? I assured him that
she was.

"'Lord!' he gasped, shuddering. 'That noise would drive a man insane!'

"'Yes,' I whispered softly, 'But you ought to thank it for bringing you
to your senses!'

"'What do you mean?' he asked, blankly.

"'Don't you know that the Big Chief of these freaks bounced you for
jumping onto the platform?'

"'I don't remember anything but that I'd seen or dreamed I've seen
Allie Lane alive!' he said, disconsolately.

"'Well,' I explained, 'The High Chief, who calls himself by the name of
Abaris, didn't like the idea of you getting familiar with Allie and he
knocked you out cold. I thought he killed you and he might have at that
had he wanted to. I thought you were a goner!'

"'He's got a hell of a nerve then!' he exploded, his face twitching in
terrible rage that under the glow of green made him almost as grotesque
as Abaris himself. 'I've loved Allie Lane all my life and now that I've
found her nothing but death will stop me from having her!'

"'We haven't found her yet, Sands,' I reminded him softly. 'She's
somewhere down this tunnel! I think we ought to get to her as soon as
we can. Those devils are going to leave here! Abaris'll probably take
Allie with him!'

       *       *       *       *       *

"For perhaps several hundred feet we picked our way, hugging the
gem-studded walls, along the tunnel through which Allie Lane
had entered the chamber. Overhead small balls of light flitted
occasionally, illuminating the entire passageway. We encountered
several smaller passageways branching off from the main shaft but we
continued along the wider thoroughfare. What had become of the Jovians?
I wondered, as we slowly edged our way along the wall. The only thing
that seemed to mark their existence in the great underground maze
of tunnel and caverns, deep below Death Valley, was the persistent
high-pitched musical notes that smashed into the ear-drums with an
unending viciousness.

"Presently our footsteps led us into another circular chamber somewhat
larger than the one into which Abaris had come. This great room was
illuminated by darting lights which exposed units of rapidly revolving
machinery from which emanated the high-pitched musical notes!

"In our appraisal of the machinery we saw what appeared to be perhaps a
half dozen cylindrical tubes that stood upright, spinning rapidly. Over
each glowed a pale green luminosity. The bases of the cylinders went
through the hard rock floor of the chamber and their spinning movement
created a terrific suction, for the air in the cavern was swirling.
Attached to each of the cylinders were hundreds of small tubes that
gave off a deep green ray for their entire length. One tube ran from
the cylinders to a central manifold to which was attached a larger tube
that fairly sputtered and glowed under a force similar to but more
powerful than a great vacuum tube.

"Audible even above the noise that was created by the rapid whirl of
the peculiar machines, came the steady, rhythmic throb of centrifugal
pumps. The throb was the same sound that we had heard while we stood
for the first time on the rim overlooking the crater containing the
radium pool.

"Lights floated above the spinning machinery. They made little bright
spots in the luminous green that formed the drafty atmosphere, like
lanterns being swung rapidly in a murky fog. I turned to Sands who was
standing just behind me staring over my shoulder, intently watching the
motion of the machinery and the darting lights.

"'I'm beginning to believe Abaris now,' I whispered in his ear. 'These
devils are actually draining this world of an unknown radium deposit!
All this machinery, the spheres and lights must be operated by radium
power of intensity that is not possessed in the small quantities that
we have found so far!'

"'Well that might be so, pardner,' Sands placed his lips close to my
ear, 'But I'm interested in Allie Lane, nothing else! Let's find her!'

"I gave him an assuring nudge and we edged our way along the wall of
the circular chamber, maintaining a safe distance from the whirling
machinery for it seemed possessed with a powerful magnetism. I would
like to have studied it closer, but something seemed to warn me to
remain a safe distance away from whirling cylinders which spun like
electrical generators with the tubes connected like generating brushes.

"I was still awed over the sudden disappearance of the Jovians and felt
that their absence spelled some sinister disaster to us. I momentarily
expected some of them to appear and seize us.

"Suddenly we came to an exit shaft just high enough to admit a Jovian,
without bending. I raised an arm to estimate the height of the ceiling.
My fingertips just scraped it. The tunnel was in total darkness and
this appeared to be the only exit from the chamber with the exception
of the one through which we had entered. We clung, hand in hand, as we
went into it. We had not gone more than a dozen steps until we were
enveloped in an inky blackness. Certainly, I thought, the Jovians
must be aware, through their peculiar mental telepathy, that we were
exploring their secret chambers. Why didn't they swoop down upon us
and challenge our progress? Perhaps, I thought, they did not figure
it worthwhile, believing that we would eventually lose ourselves in
the network of underground vistas, tunnels and chambers, and die as
the result. It was a grim outlook for both of us at best, but I had
one thing--the assurance of Abaris himself, that the Jovians had no
intention of harming us seriously.

"Eventually we became somewhat accustomed to the inky blackness of the
tunnel and we were able to make out the forms of each other. Staring
straight ahead I discovered what I accepted to be a small circular
hole through which came a faint luminosity. We made for it as rapidly
as we could, although we were extremely cautious and fearful lest we
step into one of the bottomless abysses which I felt existed in the
underground world.

"We edged our way along the tunnel for perhaps a quarter of a mile
before we eventually came to the circular light which we had seen. I
was not surprised when we found that it was an entrance or an exit of
another chamber! We approached it carefully not knowing what might lie
ahead. We had no intention of exposing ourselves to the ire of Abaris
could we help it. We wanted to find Allie Lane and her father--now that
he too was alive! I crawled on hands and knees to the tunnel outlet.
Sands was on the opposite side of the hole. We peered intently into
the chamber which was brilliantly lighted. The white brightness of the
light gave me an impression that it emanated from the sun! It blinded
us temporarily.

"The chamber was decorated gorgeously in purple and gold drapes that
hung suspended from the room's walls. Massive metal chairs, like the
three on the platform back in the first chamber, stood in artistic
positions. On one side of the wall, draped with a yellow cloth of metal
that glistened like fire in the brilliant light, hung a great sheet of
glass-like material that mirrored other objects in the chamber. Under
it stood a golden dressing table at which was a frail silver bench.
Truly, I thought, as I surveyed the mirror, vanity and bench, these
objects could be of no use to anyone except a beautiful woman! The
thought gave birth to another idea. Perhaps this was the room to which
Allie Lane had been confined!

"My eyes wandered to the far end of the chamber. To my surprise
there stood, near the wall, a massive couch that seemed to have been
hewn from a great emerald block. Its coverings were of a soft, silken
material, edged with gold! As I stared at the beautiful piece my eyes
detected a slight movement of the coverings. I looked on the couch
awe-struck.

"There before our very eyes, and apparently alone, lay Allie Lane on
the silken covered, emerald couch! From underneath her brilliant robes
protruded a dainty foot and ankle. Her face lay buried in her arms and
her body wracked with silent sobs, her brown hair shimmering in the
glare of the light. I looked at Sands, across the tunnel outlet.

"He stared intently at the reclining figure, his mouth agape. He
allowed a hand to run nervously across his brow as though to gain
assurance that his eyes were not playing him false. Then I made a
careful scrutiny of the chamber to make certain that Allie was alone.

"'Sands!' I hissed, in low undertones that could not have been heard
beyond the few feet that separated us. 'There's your chance! There's
Allie Lane on that couch, sobbing for you! Go to her, partner! I'll
stay here and watch!'

"Sands looked at me for an instant, then taking my hand he squeezed it
until my fingers ached.

"'Thanks, pard!' was all he said, but his eyes showed what words
would fail to tell. Releasing his grip on my hand he stepped softly
into the chamber, and strode lightly with a buoyant step, toward the
silken couch. A lump rose in my throat as I watched him moving swiftly
toward the girl he had gone through hell to find. Few men would have
remained loyal as he to this slip of a girl and hunted in every nook of
California for more than forty long, weary years! It was his great love
for her in the first place, his beautiful sense of loyalty, that had
caused me to join him in the last few years of his search. Now he was
at her side!

"'Allie! Allie!' his voice, softly appealing, came to me where I
squatted, silently guarding the chamber. My eyes wandered around the
room, nothing escaping them. Again came Sands' appealing call. I looked
at him as he stood beside the couch, arms outstretched. The girl lay
perfectly still now, and her face remained buried in her arms as though
fearful to look up. Slowly her head turned. From where I squatted, I
could see her profile as it turned towards Sands, tears like pearls,
streaming down her cheek. I expected to see again her sweet features
staring mutely blank as they were when I first beheld her.

"Suddenly the girl sat upright and turned her face up to Sands!
Her eyes widened in amazement and fright. I watched her closely,
temporarily forgetting my own sworn duty to stand guard over the
chamber. Would she recognize her lover of forty years ago? I wondered
if she really would. Or was she still under the spell of some strange
Jovian trance? My blood pounded at my temples in those few seconds of
uncertainty. I could imagine her amazement at seeing Sands but I could
not comprehend her delay in flying to his embrace if she still loved
him. She sat very still, staring up into Sands' luminous green features
with their month's growth of beard. Perhaps his radium affliction
and his beard had puzzled her I thought. That was true. She did not
recognize him immediately as the result. For long minutes she stared at
him through glistening tears.

"Then with a soft cry Allie Lane literally flew into his arms. Sands
squeezed her close to him, his face buried in her tumbled brown hair. A
feeling of exultation and of triumph surged through my whole body and I
slapped my thigh with joy. I was immensely happy! But my joy was short
lived. I always was more or less of a crank and my happiness soon fled
before a cloud of gloom that formed sinister thoughts in my brain.

"Now that Sands and Allie Lane were together again, how were they to
escape from the underground outpost of Jupiter? If we did succeed
in finding our way out of the maze of tunnels, how did we expect to
traverse Death Valley without water? It was impossible! Better had we
all remain hidden far below Death Valley's burning surface than to
expose ourselves to the sinister power of Abaris or the terrible fatal
heat of the surface!

"Meanwhile my attention was drawn again to the two lovers as they stood
beside the silken couch. Allie nestled close to the broad, powerful
chest of her sweetheart and spoke to him in a low, musical voice.
Quickly I glanced around the room trying not to listen to them. I had
already a violent feeling of being an intruder on their reunion.

       *       *       *       *       *

"'Oh, Robert!' her voice, tense with both fright and joy. 'How did you
ever find me--why did you risk your life to come here in the midst of
these terrible creatures? I'm so afraid!'

"'I love you, Allie!' Sands whispered affectionately. 'I love you
better than life itself! I've searched for you for many years and I
would have continued searching until I could no longer crawl! At last I
have found you, Allie, and I shall never leave you again!'

"'Why, Robert!' she suddenly exclaimed. 'You haven't searched for me
for many years! You couldn't have because you are just the same Bob
Sands you were when you started to California. Why did you let those
terrible whiskers grow? I don't like them.' Allie emitted a little
musical laugh; then continued. 'You must shave those horrible whiskers
off at once!'

"'Don't you know, Allie dear, that you have been lost from me for over
forty years? I've been searching so long that I've lost track of time.'
Sands whispered softly, looking into her expressive eyes. A smile
played at the corners of her lips.

"'You are fooling, Robert,' she said, searching his face for proof of
jest. 'It just couldn't be! Why Robert I'd be an old woman now if it
were true--I'd be almost sixty.'

"'Good Lord!' I gasped to myself as I stood guard over the chamber and
this secret love tryst between Allie Lane and Driftin' Sands. Didn't
she know that she's been lost to the world for over forty years? Poor
girl! Sands oughtn't to tell her! Then, again, it might be best for her
to know everything!

"I listened intently, for now I wanted to learn any information that
Allie might give to Sands regarding the grotesque Jovians and their
plans. The information might aid us materially in finding ways and
means of escaping them.




                                  VII

                           _How to Escape?_


"She was crying softly, 'It's hard to believe you Robert! I know that
you wouldn't lie to me--but it does seem impossible. Why I'm just the
same as I was when you left me back in Kansas City--I don't seem to
have grown older! Let me look at myself, please dear?'

"Allie walked with faltering steps over to the huge mirror hanging
on the wall, and stared into it, her hands wandering softly over
her features. Sands walked to her side and peered into the radium
reflector. The reflection he witnessed there caused him to leap aside.
For the first time he saw his face since the radio-active qualities
of the radium had restored his youth. Here he was, in reality an old
man who had been suddenly returned to youth. And instead of seeing the
visage of a wrinkled and weather-beaten old man he beheld the features
of Robert Sands as they were when he arrived in California forty years
before! His was a surprise beyond description of words. He ran a hand
over his face incredulously.

"Taking this opportunity to attract his attention, I whistled softly.
He looked up with a jerk and patting Allie lightly on the shoulder, he
came to the entrance of the tunnel where I squatted. Allie was staring
into the mirror, incredulously, as though unable to believe that under
ordinary circumstances she would be in the autumn of life on this
earth--that the beautiful face in the mirror would long ago have become
wrinkled and shrunken!

"'Hadn't we better get Allie's father and try to get out of here,
Sands?' I asked him. 'Those devils might show up any minute!'

"'I plumb forgot about you, pardner,' he said, apologetically. 'I
forgot about everything. Have you any idea how we're going to get out
of here? I haven't! Maybe Allie knows of some way. I'll ask her.'

"'Yes, ask her now,' I advised. 'It's now or never!'

"With that he walked back to Allie. At the scraping sound of his boots
she turned to him, smiling joyously.

"'Allie dear,' I heard him whisper, 'I brought a friend of mine here.
He's standing guard to warn us if anyone comes. I've got him in this
terrible predicament and I want to get him out--get you and all of us
out of here. You want to go with me back to civilization, don't you
dear?'

"'I will go anywhere with you, Robert,' she said, placing her hands on
his chest endearingly.

"'Then, dear, can you tell me how to lead us out?'

"'I know of only one way to get out of here, Robert,' she whispered,
'but Abaris has guards there constantly. I'm afraid we could not get
through them. You needn't be afraid of Abaris, Bob dear. He has been
very kind to me and daddy.'

"'Humph!' Sands snorted curtly. 'He has not been so nice to me! I'd
like to blast him to hell! He knocked me cold when I first saw you,
Allie, out there on the throne!'

"'You saw me there, Robert?' she asked. 'And Abaris harmed you when you
came near me?'

"'He did, Allie! Knocked me plumb out and nearly killed me!'

"'The brute!' she said, angrily. 'Well, maybe we'll find a way out of
here, Robert! Let me call father. He's in the room next to me. Wait
here!'

"Sands returned to the tunnel and squatted in the semi-darkness beside
me. He was breathing hard with excitement, and there was a twinkle of
joy and anticipation that formed crows' feet at the sides of his eyes.
He seemed suddenly a very joyous man and forgetful of the sinister
danger that hovered over all of us. What would happen, I wondered,
if Abaris suddenly came upon the secret love tryst of Sands and his
sweetheart? Would he fly into a sudden rage and destroy us with his
terrible, invisible weapon that shot green, pencil-thin rays and
killed instantly? We sat silently, Sands with his thoughts of love and
happiness--I with thoughts of danger and death.

"Presently we heard a sound like the scraping of feet. Sands and I
shrank close to the tunnel's wall in the semi-darkness. Our fears fled,
however, when Allie came into the chamber followed by her father. Lane
appeared, at close range, to be a man of about forty. His hair was
black and his eyes were gray and penetrating. His carriage was that
of a man in his prime of life, full of power and vigor and his eyes
flashed as they searched Allie's room nervously. Sands got to his feet
and walked slowly into the lighted chamber. Lane stopped abruptly and
surveyed him with an incredulous stare. Suddenly he stepped swiftly to
Sands' side, their hands met firmly.

"'I'd given up all hope of ever seeing you again, Bob,' he said in a
clear voice that tingled with excitement. 'It is indeed a pleasure to
have you with us again. I'm sure Allie is glad.'

"'Thanks, Mr. Lane!' Sands returned. 'It's been a long time, but
I've struggled hard for this meeting. You've fared well under
conditions--you and Allie, but we've got to get away from these
frog-faced freaks here. Tell me what you know about a way out and we'll
start at once.'

"'Just like you, Bob,' Lane said, admiringly. 'You always did want
to be the first to get started. Let's sit down and talk it over. I'm
terribly afraid that we'll find it hard to get out, however.'

"'I've gone through a lot,' Sands whispered. 'A little more wouldn't
amount to much.'

"'Maybe not, Bob,' Lane interjected with a frown. 'But this is one time
when you do not know what you are up against. As much as I'd like to
get back home to my friends, I can't see any definite way to escape.
But I'll co-operate to the fullest for yours and Allie's sake.'

"The three of them walked softly to Allie's silken couch and sat down,
Allie close to Sands, his arms about her waist. I heard a faint sound
issuing from the tunnel that led from Lane's chamber. I held my breath
in fear. Was Abaris or some of his Jovians coming upon the scene? My
blood pounded as I listened with my hands cupped behind my ears to
magnify any sound. No more sounds came and I breathed easier. I turned
again to the three in Allie's room. Lane was speaking, his voice, in
muffled tones, reached me.

"'Allie explained to me how you came to be here, Bob,' he was saying,
'so we won't recount it again. These strange people here claim they
are from the planet Jupiter and came here solely for the purpose of
obtaining a great supply of radium. It seems that they have exhausted
the supply on their own planet. Through delicate instruments, Abaris
says, their scientists discovered that this earth contained a great
deposit of the metal. They henceforth set out to get it because life on
their planet depends upon it for existence. If Abaris fails, it means
that perhaps the entire population of Jupiter will be wiped out unless
some other heavenly body is found to contain a deposit.'

"'How the devil did they ever get here?' Sands asked, interestedly.

"'I'm coming to that now, Bob,' Lane continued, softly. 'It sounds
quite impossible but it is a fact that Abaris and his henchmen left
Jupiter in a great spherical machine similar to some of the spheres
that you probably saw on your way in here. This sphere, which is
capable of interstellar travel, propelled by a radium process known
only to their mechanics, is ready at this minute to return to Jupiter
with the greater stock of that metal. For a long time they have been
pumping radium out of the earth and sending it to Jupiter in small
spheres which are controlled and guided by an unknown source of power.
Abaris says that the deposit here is about exhausted and the cylinder
pumps are bringing up the last drops of radium existing in this earth!

"'Abaris expects to halt the pumps very soon and enter the
interplanetary sphere for departure to Jupiter! He has said that we
were to accompany him to his planet and being unable to escape Allie
and I have resigned ourselves to whatever fate is in store for us. I
must admit that Abaris has been very good to us and while we would
certainly like to get back to our people, I hold no animosity against
him, except, of course, that his appearance, as are all the rest of
his kind, is horrifying to us. But we have become adapted to the
environment, yet we must naturally rebel against being spirited away
from this glorious world of ours--to perhaps be regarded on Jupiter
much in the same manner as we have looked upon strange animals here.

"'For some time I have suspected that Abaris in his grotesque way, is
exceptionally fond of Allie! She has wanted for nothing. Her every
wish has been granted, but he will not consent to our appearing before
the multitude unless we submit to being placed under a strange power.
In other words we are forced to undergo hypnotism for a reason that I
have not been able to learn. That is why we did not see you when you
stood before the platform in the throne chamber.

"'As Allie told you, there is one exit from this underground world and
that is guarded constantly either by the Jovians themselves or their
grotesque death-dealing mechanical guards in the shape of a cactus
tree with arms like an octopus. The mechanical Jovians seem to have
all the powers of the creatures themselves, lacking only their mental
faculties. Unless controlled by a living hand they are helpless.

"'These Jovians are really geniuses in all forms. You have seen the
series of spheres in the throne room with the large hall in the center.
The large sphere is Jupiter in a miniature orbit. The small spheres are
its moons, as _good_ Abaris explained to us. Through these they are
able to watch the progress of their radium spheres as they shoot their
way toward Jupiter. The large spheres show their passage very plainly.
But these explanations of Jovian objects and scientific genius are not
getting us to our goal. So let us consider the possibility of escape. I
have a plan that we may be able to use.'

"I listened intently to the plan of possible action as Lane outlined it
to Sands. Allie's father explained that at a certain time the guards at
the only avenue of escape would be changed and the mechanical Jovians
with their tentacle-like arms, controlled by a remote central, would
be put in their places. Lane explained how he had previously located
the source of control over the mechanical men and was therefore,
perhaps, in the position to disconnect the controlling system and
suspend their activity. This sounded like a very excellent plan, but
how, I thought, would it be possible for us to steal near the central
control apparatus in our attempt to disconnect it? Surely, the Jovians
must maintain a constant guard over such delicate and important
apparatus. But on the other hand, they may not feel a need of it in
view of the fact that Allie Lane and her father had been with them so
long that they accepted them as being harmless.

"At any rate, Sands approved of the plan and it was decided that the
attempt to escape would be made at a time when Lane was to give a
low whistle and we would all meet in Allie's chamber, providing, of
course, that the way was clear. Lane, with his forefinger, drew an
invisible outline, showing the tunnel through which we were to go.
Sands watched him closely and absorbed the information. Meanwhile, I
shot rapid glances around the chamber in its entirety in my part as
guard. Several times my heart jumped when I heard sounds that softly
broke the stillness of the cavern, but the sounds failed to bring what
I expected--the grotesque Jovians.

"Sands was standing in the center of the room now, Allie Lane in
his arms. They kissed endearingly. Allie's father paced the floor
nervously. Suddenly Lane stopped pacing and faced his daughter and her
lover. He opened his lips to say something, thought better of it, then
turned half away. He swung around presently as though he had decided
on some question confronting him, and spoke softly.

"'Allie,' his words, nervous and tense, reached me. 'You love, Bob,
don't you dear?'

"'As well as life, father,' she answered. Sands turned to look at Lane,
puzzled.

"'Suppose, then,' Lane returned, 'that you marry Bob now. It would be a
good thing in the face of whatever confronts us.'

"'I would marry him now, father,' Allie said in a half whisper that I
barely caught. 'But how?'

"'You forget, my dear, that I was a minister back in Kansas City,' her
father smiled.

"'I've waited a long time, Allie,' Sands put in, holding Allie's
shoulder and looking into her eyes lovingly.

"'Then I will marry you at once, Robert,' she said, her eyes shining
with happy tears. 'Father can perform the ceremony.'

"Fascinated, I watched the procedure that followed, forgetting my duty
as guard in whose hands must rest the lives of the happy three. With
my eyes and attention on Allie as she whispered 'I do,' I failed to
notice that Abaris had suddenly come to the entrance of the chamber and
was standing there silently regarding the trio. Lane was saying 'I now
pronounce you man and wife,' when I beheld Abaris' towering form as he
stood menacingly just inside the room. The tubes of his forehead stuck
out rigidly, his tentacle-like arms twitching in anger, and his owlish
eyes opened and closed rapidly. I shrank back into the darkness of the
tunnel, fearful, lest I be discovered. From my hiding place, however, I
could see the entire chamber.

"As though struck by some terrific force, Sands and Lane at once spun
around and faced Abaris. Allie emitted a fearful little cry and shrank
back against the wall. Abaris' tubes were pointed at them menacingly
and I knew that he was speaking to them in his peculiar mental
telepathy. What words flew between them I was not able to catch for I
had learned that I could not receive the wave vibrations unless the
tubes were pointing directly at me.

"Suddenly I heard Sands' words as he angrily informed Abaris that Allie
had just become his wife and that it was no man's business what he was
doing in the chamber with her. His features twitched with growing anger
as he spoke, his hands were clenched.

"'You, frog-face!' I heard him shout, 'I've searched for Allie Lane for
forty years! Now that I have found her and she has become my wife, you
nor anyone else can take her away from me alive!'

"'Eloli is the bride of Jupiter, Man of the Earth!' I caught the
thunderous vibrations from Abaris' tubes which now waved spasmodically
in all directions. His thoughts were so powerful that they carried to
me where I crouched.

"'Allie Lane is my wife!' cried Sands, hotly. 'We die before she goes
with you to your planet of crazy freaks!'

"'Yes, O Abaris,' Lane put in, weakly, shaking as one palsied. 'Allie
is this man's wife. You cannot take her away from him. It is the law of
humanity!'

"Abaris' frog-like beak opened and then closed with a resounding snap.
I expected him momentarily to bring into play his terrible, invisible
ray of death. His skinny, tube-like legs held up his barrel-shaped
body admirably, I thought, as I watched him from my hiding place. They
seemed like stilts, unjointed except at the hips, around which was
draped a narrow breech cloth of gold-edged purple. His body glistened
oilily and around his bald, misshapen head rested a thin metal band,
glowing luminously green. His antennae tubes waved angrily.

"'Eloli goes with Abaris to Jupiter!' Abaris thundered, his vibrations
reaching me sharply. I shuddered under the force of his powerful
thought waves. 'On Jupiter we have specimens of many planetarial
beings. Our scientists would like to study specimens of the aborigines
of this planet. Therefore the three of you will accompany me to
Jupiter! Eloli comes as the bride of Jove!'

"'We would die there, O Abaris,' Lane parried, dejectedly. 'We of this
earth could not adapt ourselves to your environment!'

"'You do not seem to understand, Man of the Earth,' Abaris' vibrations
said, 'that we of Jupiter have accomplished immortality. There is no
death on Jupiter! Will you come voluntarily or shall I be forced to
resort to other methods?'

"From where I lay hidden in terror, I watched Sands' face. In his anger
his features twisted with fury. I could not help him should he attempt
to attack the huge Jovian commander who stood before him. If I only
could, how gladly I would have gone into the chamber!

"Suddenly I heard a dismal hooting from somewhere behind Abaris, that
gradually grew nearer. I watched the opening of the tunnel behind
him expecting momentarily to see his followers enter the room. Two
abreast they came, their bodies shining with freshly applied oil,
their loins covered with shimmering breech-cloths. Unlike Abaris, they
wore no bands around their huge heads. Like soldiers, their line broke
in the center where Abaris' huge body stood like a pivot, and they
single-filed around the walls of the circular chamber.

"I shot a quick glance at Sands. He stood belligerently watching.
Allie had crept into his arms and buried her head against his bosom.
Lane stared down at the floor, downcast and utterly dejected. When I
first beheld Lane, I was impressed with his flashing eyes and strong,
powerful body and had figured upon his co-operation at such a dire
moment as this. But perhaps, I thought, he realized unlike Sands and
myself, the utter futility of objecting to the demands of the Jovians.
But Sands was of a different mettle.

"Slowly he moved Allie behind him and again faced Abaris. The Jovians
lined around the chamber wall, stood apparently at attention. They
made no move to interfere. Had Abaris ordered them to remain inactive,
relying upon his own power of combat to force the three humans into
submission?

"'Frog-face!' Sands shouted, insultingly, at Abaris. 'You call off your
dogs and we'll settle this right now! I'm not afraid of your crazy
lights and even if I was I'd rather die than submit to you!'

"Abaris' throat cackled with his peculiar laugh. His owlish eyes stared
through unblinking lids. Sands approached him with sinister steadiness,
crouched ready to spring at the bull-like throat of the giant. I stared
at him fearfully. Here was the end, I thought, as Abaris tilted his
huge head to look down upon his insignificant antagonist. I glanced
around the chamber at the froggish Jovians. They continued to stand
silently at attention.




                                 VIII

                            _The Struggle_


"As I watched the unfolding of the terrible scene in the chamber, I
found myself wondering what I would do if Sands actually attempted to
fight his way through the death-dealing rays of the Jovians. My hand
accidentally touched my gun butt and for the first time since I had
used the weapon back in the first tunnel, I remembered that I still
possessed it. I felt somewhat heartened at the reassuring touch but
how useless it was in fighting the grotesque frog-men from the distant
world! Surely it could not kill or disable them for hadn't I thumbed a
slug into the bony features of one of them? That slug would have killed
a man instantly, but the Jovian had no more than croaked as the lead
tore through his head!

"I patted the gun affectionately and inspected the cylinder. Reloading
I snapped it back into its holster with a grim determination that I
would use it! Better had Allie Lane, her father and Driftin' Sands rest
in peace on this earth, than in mortal terror forever on Jupiter, I
thought!

"Suddenly my eyes were brought back to the chamber by a curdling
scream. Allie had fainted as Sands sprang at the bull-like throat of
Abaris, upsetting him in the suddenness of his attack. Lane stood
petrified, Allie lay unmolested and unaided upon the floor.

"Just inside the chamber near the entrance, Sands and Abaris seemed
locked in a terrible embrace of death. Chest to chest they lay on
the floor, Sands on top, holding in his powerful hands the thin,
rubber-like arms of the hideous, bestial-visaged ruler of the Jovians!
Sands grunted as he strained hard to hold Abaris' flexible arms to
prevent him from bringing into play the terrible weapon that seemed to
be concealed in the sucker-like tips at their ends. It seemed like the
conflict of two great forces--man and beast--in a terrible battle for
supremacy--like good and evil, angel and demon. I was thrilled at the
great heroism of Sands and my heart swelled with the pride of having
his loyal friendship. Slowly I edged my way toward the chamber, keeping
well against the wall, for a closer view of the struggle. As uneven as
it seemed, Sands, I thought, was the better of the two physically. But
how could he hope to win such an unequal combat, unarmed, and against
the terrible green death rays of Abaris? White man and planetarial
beast! No greater contrast could be imagined.

"The muscles in Sands' neck bulged as he labored to hold the tough,
flexible arms of Abaris. The Jovian's skinny legs, unjointed and
stilt-like kicked spasmodically, poor protection against Sands'
powerful limbs. From a better point of vantage I watched the struggle.
Which of the two would win the terrible battle of physical forces?

"Suddenly Abaris gave a great heave that cast Sands clear from his
barrel-like body! But Sands held, with bull dog tenacity, onto the
writhing arms of the Jovian leader, struggling vainly to prevent
Abaris from aiming his pencil-thin emerald rays of destruction. Once
Abaris shot his terrible ray and a Jovian near him vanished entirely
in a puff of acrid smoke! A ray struck one of the huge chairs and it
crumbled. This combat, I felt, would be more like a wrestling match
due to the fact that it seemed impossible for Abaris to rise on his
stilt-like legs. That much in favor of Sands! But what would happen
to him if Abaris succeeded in striking him with a green ray shot with
uncontrollable anger?

"I studied Abaris' bestial features to see how he was accepting the
terrific throttling he was receiving. His owlish orbs gleamed, flaming
red, and stared bestially into Sands' set features, his terrible power
of will burning into the man's brain. I cast a quick glance at Allie.
She was just recovering from her faint and her father was at her side.
From behind fluttering lids, Allie looked at the struggling figures,
thrashing about on the chamber floor. She groaned softly and hid her
face, sobbing.

"Watching them my muscles involuntarily became tense. My breath came in
gasps born of sheer sympathy for Sands and his long lost sweetheart.

"Slowly, very slowly, the dominating will power of Abaris overcame the
struggling physical force of Sands. Gradually he eased his terrible
grip on the Jovian's writhing arms, and steadily Abaris was bringing
their sucker-like tips toward his antagonist. Realizing his waning
strength, Sands made a desperate effort to tear his eyes from the
blazing, relentless orbs of Abaris, turning his head to the side. But
struggle as he would, with all the physical strength at his command, he
could not check the gradual domination of brain-power and will that was
slowly but surely smothering him to submission.

"Presently Sands' muscles relaxed and finally the terrific power of
Abaris' dominating will swept into the core of his brain, overpowering
him. I cursed softly and hid my face in my hands for a second.

"Sands' head dropped to one side, his powerful arms hung limply. Blood
streamed from his nostrils, caused by his tremendous physical efforts.
I caught a glimpse of his eyes as his head fell. They were stark,
unseeing eyes! His body shuddered convulsively as it slipped inertly to
the chamber floor. Abaris was hoisted erect by two of his Jovians, his
tubes waving victoriously, a cackling laugh in his throat.

"Allie Lane screamed and her father stroked her shaking head gently as
Abaris strode, wobbling like a duck, toward them. I looked at Sands.
His breathing was heavy and irregular. Abaris, I thought, had not
killed him outright, nor had he brought into play his terrible rays.
His great mental power alone had completely subdued him.

"Slowly my hand stole to the butt of my gun. With a jerk I snapped the
weapon out of its holster, holding back the hammer with my thumb. In a
space of several seconds I could have hurled five slugs at Allie and
her father and the inert form of Sands. The sixth, I had planned, was
to crash through my own brain. I levelled the gun at Allie's temple
exposed through a wisp of her soft, brown hair, but I could not find
the heart to release my thumb from the hammer. Suddenly I felt a wave
of great remorse surge deep within me for not sending a half dozen
shots into the owlish eyes of Abaris. Why hadn't I shot him as he lay
there on the ground struggling under Sands, and clipped the writhing
arms from his body? Was I actually the kind of a coward who would stand
by, hiding like a frightened jack-rabbit while the life was being
crushed out of my dearest and most loyal friends?

"A terrible rage filled me. What would my wife think of me back at
Balch if she learned that I had stood idly by like a whipped cur and
permitted those uncouth freaks to commit a wrong against Allie and her
lover? How could my children ever live down the cowardice of their
father! It was with these thoughts in my maddened brain that I suddenly
dashed out of the tunnel, gun in hand, and blocked Abaris' passage
toward Allie and her father. I felt a terrible urge to kill--to spill
the blood or whatever it was that coursed through the veins of the
frog-faced beasts!

"'Stop, Abaris,' I shouted hysterically. 'Stop where you are! I'll kill
you if you move!'

"He stared at me through flaming, owlish orbs. His frog-like mouth
opened and there came from his cavernous throat the mocking, cackling
laugh. It was maddening--his cackling indifference! Suddenly
remembering that it was within the power of these strange creatures to
render my weapon useless, causing it to heat and burn my hand, I lifted
the barrel from my hip and let fly. Swiftly and with the flaming desire
to kill pounding at my brain I thumbed the hammer of my gun! In a row,
six round, green holes appeared just above Abaris' flaming eyes! He
tottered for an instant and then recovered himself. An emerald green
liquid poured from the holes and ran down into his owlish eyes.

"So rapidly were the slugs hurled from my gun that the Jovians did not
instantly grasp their significance. Then abruptly the entire chamber
seemed alive with thin green rays that played with deadly precision
around me. Abaris, suddenly ill from the effect of the six slugs
passing through his head, made a weak attempt to lift a tentacle-like
arm. It was with an effort that he brought it up. I made a leap at him
but I was too late. A ray shot from the tip of his fiendish arm! I felt
a tingle on my left side, just over the heart. The chamber floor seemed
to rush up as I fell, heavily. For several seconds I lay there, in full
command of my faculties but unable to move a muscle. My head swam and
I had a feeling that I was being hurled through space at a terrific
speed. Then a terrible blackness overcame me and I seemed to be falling
into a yawning abyss.

"How long I lay there I do not know. For ages, it seemed, I lay on my
back making no attempt to move, but staring into an inky blackness
overhead. What had caused the chamber to become dark, I wondered?
Were my eyes really open? I pinched myself. I was not dead after all!
I listened attentively for some sound to indicate the presence of
someone. I heard nothing. The silence was awful. Then I wondered if I
had succeeded in killing Abaris. If so, he should be lying at my feet.
With an effort I wiggled a leg in an attempt to feel the floor near it.
Perhaps Abaris had crawled away, or his men had removed him from the
room, I thought. Then I remembered the futility of trying to kill a
Jovian!

"I felt no pain although the blood pounded at my temples and I felt
terribly weak and nauseated. My left side seemed numb--deadened where
Abaris' ray had struck. Presently as I lay in the darkness, my ears
caught a low moaning sound. Increasing in volume, the sound soon became
a high-pitched wail like that which we had heard when we beheld the
sphere whirling on the column in the center of the radium pool. My ear
drums pounded under the force of the shriek and I placed my hands over
them to shut out the maddening sound.

"Suddenly the whole earth seemed to tremble! A rumble filled the
room as though the world were in the tumultuous throes of some great
upheaval! With an ominous roar the floor under me shuddered and
cracked. I lay panic-stricken, thinking that a terrible earthquake had
swept over the Valley of Death. Crashing earth-slides roared around
me as I lay helpless. Overhead I could see a thin streak of light
penetrating through a fissure that was slowly widening! The chamber was
becoming brighter under the glare of light that entered it from the
fissure. I stood upon my feet and braced myself to keep from falling
under the swaying movements of the earth. I looked around quickly.
The chamber was entirely vacant. Not a sign remained of Abaris, his
Jovians, Allie or any of them! They were gone! At my feet I noticed
a spreading pool of green liquid. I cursed Abaris and his hideous
followers roundly.

"Presently as I stood staring down at the liquid that must have poured
from the wounds I had inflicted upon Abaris, I heard a terrific roar
coming from somewhere near. The floor of the chamber rolled like the
surface of an angry sea. I was dashed against the wall where I lay. I
expected momentarily to see the chamber close up and crush me to death,
sealing me in a living tomb deep beneath the Manalava Plain!

"There came a terrific, thunderous crash, the impact of which caused
me to rise from the ground and fall again yards away! With the crash
came the blinding flash of some terrible explosion. A great, hissing
sound reached my ears and then I heard a loud, ear-splitting shriek.
I looked overhead at the fissure in the earth through which filtered
the soul-gladdening sunlight. I caught a glimpse of a great sphere
travelling at a terrific speed into the sky! As it sped away, the
shriek of its passing became less discernible and soon died out
altogether. The Jovians had departed for their own planet, taking Allie
Lane, her father and Driftin' Sands with them! Gradually the earth
roar ceased and with it ceased the earth's heaving.

"I stared around me now able to see the entire chamber. Not an object
remained in it--not a fragment of any of the beautiful purple and gold
drapes that had decorated the room which had been Allie Lane's. The
Jovians had removed every object while I lay on the floor, apparently
dead. Abaris' ray could not have struck me squarely, or else he had
been too feeble and weak as the result of his wounds, to do more than
stun me temporarily. In my rapid search of the room I discovered that
the upheaval caused by the departure of the great interplanetary
traveler, had sealed the tunnel in which I had hidden during the
conflict between Sands and Abaris. The tunnel through which Abaris had
suddenly appeared was likewise closed with massive rocks.

"As a last resort to escape from the underground world I began to
study the possibility of crawling to the surface of the Manalava Plain
through the wide fissure overhead. The opening was too high for me to
reach up and obtain enough of a handhold to support my weight. I spent
hours, working constantly, piling some of the broken rocks from the
tunnels under the fissure. Eventually I succeeded in grasping a sharp
rock protruding from the side of the crevice and hoisted myself up. It
was hard, that climb to the outer world.

"Presently after what seemed hours of back-breaking labor I reached the
surface. How good it was to breathe the pure air of Death Valley again!
The atmosphere, in spite of the terrific heat of the Manalava Plain,
was sweet and beautiful. My lungs, long since taxed with the foul,
nauseating atmosphere of the tunnels and caverns deep below me, pumped
madly, as I breathed in the delightful air of my own world!

"The Manalava Plain as far as I could see had strangely become ruffled
and strewn with broken rocks. Wide fissures and crevices were visible
at every hand and on several occasions as I picked my way off the Plain
I was forced to leap over them or make wide detours in order to pass.
After terrible torture I eventually reached the spring in the little
hidden canyon. There I drank deeply of the water that had previously
been pale green in color and was now strangely colorless. I looked
around the weather-broken wagons and searched the old trunk that Sands
had found before we started to follow the phantom wagon with its two
mysterious humans, but failed to find anything in which I could carry
a supply of water. After rolling in the spring I struck off across the
Valley. It was hell, friends, and I would have lain down many times
to die, but the ever present vision of my wife and youngsters over at
Balch, constantly beckoned me to continue. So here I am and I thank
you, gentlemen, for saving my life!"




                                  IX

                            _I Have Doubts_


Thus ended the strangest and most fascinating narrative that I had
ever heard in my entire career as a newspaperman. I sat breathless at
the very fearlessness with which the man narrated it and I could not
help but believe him. It seemed impossible for him to conjure in his
imagination, in so short a time, such a weird story. It could not have
been done even by the most versatile tellers of fabricated stories!

Long before he had finished his narrative, night had fallen and with it
had come its myriads of brilliant stars glowing overhead. So entranced
were Professor Bloch and I as he told it, that we failed to notice that
the shrouds of night were lifting in the east as the sun cast its first
vermilion rays into the darkened heavens.

Through the night the foreman had continued his tale uninterrupted and
when he eventually finished, mumbling his thanks to us, the desert
world had suddenly become brilliant with the everchanging colors of a
desert dawn. I stared intently into the glowing coals of the camp-fire,
fascinated over the strange experiences he had unfolded to us. It was
hard, very hard, to believe that tale, but somehow, it rang true. I
shuddered at the thought of the grotesque Jovians and their uncanny
powers.

The Professor remained silent lost in deep thought, apparently mulling
over the story in his scientific way. I glanced at him quickly,
expecting to see doubt written plainly on his features. Instead they
were more serious than I had ever beheld them. The foreman hung his
head in a stupor of exhaustion.

"Dowell!" Professor Bloch suddenly called to me as I sat staring into
the fire. The abruptness of his voice caused me to jump nervously.

"Yes, Professor," I answered, very glad that the awesome silence which
had settled over us after the foreman had finished his narrative, had
been broken. "I'm very much awake sir."

"My friend," said the Professor, seriously, "you have heard this
gentleman's weird story. Tell me plainly just how you have taken it. Do
not be afraid to express yourself."

"Well, Professor," I said, nervously. "It is difficult for a layman
to accept such a story without basic facts, yet I feel that certain
portions of it are true. Taking into consideration the fact that
astronomers have just about proven that life exists on certain distant
planets, it is not difficult to believe their assertions that its
development there could be much further advanced than our own in
scientific achievements. It seems quite natural that any form of
life on Jupiter would differ greatly from our own due to atmospheric
conditions and environment. As for radium, it seems quite possible
that a great quantity of it would contain more qualities than are
found in the small amounts of the metal that we have been able to
obtain. However, in my opinion there seems to be but one factor in the
narrative that has caused me to doubt a certain portion of it."

Pausing, I cast a quick glance at the mine-foreman. His head still hung
in the stupor of exhaustion. He appeared to be sleeping soundly in a
squatting position. I looked at Professor Bloch. He was regarding me
thoughtfully, chin resting on his sun-tanned fists. Then I continued:

"It seems to me, Professor," I said, eyeing him, "that if the Jovians
were immortal and could not be killed as this gentleman has related,
there could be no existing skeletal remains. You say that Dr. Jamesson
has recovered a huge skull. This man claims it fits perfectly with
the facial characteristics of the Jovians. Under those conditions it
is hard to accept that part of the narrative due to the fact that
this man says that the Jovians cannot be destroyed and yet identifies
a skull as being in exact conformity with the cranial structure of
the nonterrestrial beings. How could it be possible to recover the
skeletal remains of any creature that is allegedly immortal and
therefore immune to death?"

"Your scientific observations and opinions, my friend," Professor Bloch
said, enthusiastically, "are great for a newspaperman! I congratulate
you! Your City Editor told me that you were the best hand on the
_Outstander_ at scientific matters and I believe him. However, I have
gone over the narrative thoroughly and find in it the very same faults
you have mentioned. But I actually believe this man told the truth! The
green tint which marks his skin was undoubtedly caused by radium. I
have seen radium affliction several times and its power discolors the
human skin permanently when it is exposed to its rays for any length
of time. I agree with you when you say that radium in large quantities
must have more qualities than are known to exist in the small amounts
recovered.

"As for the huge skull which Dr. Jamesson recovered. It is my opinion
that the Jovians were not entirely immortal--that is, when they are
outside of their accustomed atmospheric conditions. It is easy to
believe that they achieved immortality on their own planet, for we
today, on this globe, are slowly approaching a period when longevity
will be increased to an astonishing degree. It is my prediction that
we, too, will some day have achieved immortality to a certain degree
inasmuch as radium is already known to have removed the cancerous
tissues of the human anatomy that cause death.

"However, I have reasons to believe that some of the Jovians were
destroyed by the peculiar atmosphere of this earth when they arrived
here. Naturally they could not be accustomed to our atmospheric
conditions and results were that only the fittest survived the rigors
of an alien planet. We must consider that years must have been consumed
before they actually succeeded in locating the underground source of
the radium deposit. Those who were unable to keep up the strenuous
pace, weighted down by the earth's own atmosphere, were quite naturally
cast aside. Some of them could not survive. Hence the skeletal remains
recovered by Dr. Jamesson!"

"But, Professor," I argued, seriously, "How could they survive the
slugs from this gentleman's gun? Such a slug as shot from his calibre
of gun would kill an elephant instantly."

"That, my friend, is one of their secrets of immortality. I do not
know how they could survive. I can merely hazard an opinion. This
man narrated that a peculiar green liquid poured from the wounds. I
am convinced, then, that a radium compound instead of blood, coursed
through their veins with power enough to heal even the most gaping
wounds instantly. Radium flowing through their anatomies would have
the power to banish the leaden slugs even as they entered. The lead,
like other lesser metals, would vanish into invisible atoms under the
embrace of radium and would therefore have no more effect upon the
Jovians than would pulverized dust. But great heat, alien atmospheric
conditions or some tremendous violence, would actually destroy a Jovian
if he were not of the most hardy sort. I feel certain of that, my
friend!"

       *       *       *       *       *

We remained all that day at the camp by the Mesquite Springs. After
a hurried breakfast we lay down and slept until late afternoon. The
heat was terrific and it beat down upon me with deadening effect. I
slept through it, dreaming terrible dreams. Eventually I was awakened
by Professor Bloch who had already prepared a light lunch. The
mine-foreman was holding a pan of sizzling bacon over a tiny fire while
the Professor set other victuals on the tail of the buckboard. I rubbed
my eyes sleepily and tilted my hat forward to keep the burning sun from
searing my face.

"We almost left you, Dowell." Professor Bloch laughed, good naturedly.
"You were sleeping so sound and dreaming so pleasantly that I hated to
disturb you, but our friend here thought it best to take you along."

"I'd just as soon die from the heat there, I guess, as melt completely
here. Let's eat! I want to get back to Los Angeles. The City Editor is
reserving a room for me in the ice-house!"

"Very well, we're starting now."

Immediately after lunch we started across the Valley toward the
mysterious red streak of table-land that marked the Manalava Plain.
For hours we rode in the bouncing buckboard--for hours, it seemed, we
walked along side of it to relieve the laboring animals. The sun beat
down with terrific intensity and the heat waves danced blindingly from
the sand.

Eventually we found it necessary to continue on foot, leaving the
burros and the buckboard in a little, partly sheltered arroyo. About
noon we arrived at what the foreman claimed to be the spot where he and
Sands had located the radium pool. The surface of the Manalava Plain
was a jumble of broken rocks and a maze of wide crevices. We stared at
a deep crater-like depression before us but it was void of anything in
the form of liquid. Nothing but boulders lay in its basin and the sides
had crumbled in steep, loose rock-slides!

For what seemed ages, we searched around the surface for some opening
that might lead us down into the deserted tunnels and chambers of the
Jovians. None could be found. Evidence of some great, recent upheaval
was everywhere and search as we did we could locate no avenue by which
we might enter the strange underground world.

Presently Professor Bloch decided that the underground domain had
been destroyed completely by the upheaval, caused no doubt, by the
tremendous force of the radium in propelling the space-traveler from
this earth. Disconsolately we trailed back to the buckboard.

When we eventually returned to Los Angeles, Professor Bloch refused to
make a public statement regarding the foreman's strange experiences,
and I was henceforth unable to submit the narrative for publication
in the _Outstander_. I did, however, write an account of Dr.
Jamesson's discovery of the peculiar skull and hinted indirectly at
its remote connection with the chain of evolution on this globe, and
the possibility of this world being invaded at some future period by
Martians, Jovians or Venusians, but the _Outstander_ published only a
few garbled paragraphs that were unintelligible and valueless.

One thing Professor Bloch did say was that if money and inventive skill
could be obtained an attempt might be made to go to Jupiter to rescue
the unfortunate trio. If such a thing were to happen I will be one of
the crew.




                        _The Phantom of Terror_




                                   I

                             _The Phantom_


Professor Jerome Mortenson, hunched over the work bench in his private
laboratory, looked around suspiciously at the sound of stealthy feet
behind him, and found himself looking into the cold, unwavering muzzle
of an automatic. The masked, midnight intruder who held the weapon in
a steady hand, halted abruptly in his tracks and crouched tensely. He
breathed hard, making the only sounds audible in the instrument-filled
room.

"Stand up, professor!" the intruder said coldly. "Don't try anything!"

Mortenson eyed the man calmly from head to foot, his gray, penetrating
eyes trying hard to see behind the polka-dotted 'kerchief that hid the
fellow's features from the bridge of his nose downward. All that he
saw, however, were a pair of beady eyes, flashing with deadly earnest,
a muscular figure that filled a well-cut brown suit, polished black
oxfords and a white flannel cap, the latter pulled rakishly down
over the right temple. The man's eyes fascinated him for a moment. A
devilish light seemed to radiate from them with almost stunning force.
They gave him the aspect of a dangerous man.

"What do you want?" Mortenson grumbled, appraising him.

The intruder chuckled softly, never once removing his steady gaze from
the apprehensive features of his victim. He fumbled into a side pocket
of his coat and brought out a scrap of wrinkled newspaper which he
handed to the scientist with an insolent shrug.

"You should have had better sense, professor," he said coldly, "than to
tell the world that you had discovered a way to penetrate and enter the
Fifth Dimension!"

Mortenson reached out for the paper, a startled look in his eyes now.
His hand trembled suddenly as he unfolded the clipping and glanced over
it.

"I presume you refer to my interview with the editor of the _Journal_?"
he inquired, controlling his anger and fear. "What has that to do with
you?"

"Plenty!" the fellow snapped, advancing a step. "I want the apparatus
you used to enter the Fifth Dimension!"

"You must be crazy," Mortenson gasped weakly. "You could never make use
of it!"

The intruder grunted and Mortenson heard the click of the safety catch
as the man's thumb slid along the side of his automatic.

"That's where you come in!" he said curtly. "You're going to see that I
_can_ make use of it."

"What do you mean?" the scientist asked innocently.

"You know what I mean!" the man hissed sharply. "Don't try to pull
that _innocent_ stuff on me. You're going to hand over your Fifth
Dimensional apparatus with instructions on how to use it. Now hop!"

"You don't know what you're doing," Mortenson argued desperately. "You
must be insane!"

"Don't I?" the man jeered. "What do you think I came here for?"

"The apparatus, of course," said Mortenson, glancing about him
furtively in search of a handy hammer or a weapon, "but, good Lord,
man, you must be fond of trouble!"

"I'm used to it!" the intruder snarled. "And I'm giving you two minutes
to hand it over!"

"That interview did not tell what actually exists in the Fifth
Dimension," the scientist said dryly. "It's a terrible, invisible world
filled with strange beasts that would tear a man to pieces, should he
be caught there."

"You're a calm liar, professor!" the other jeered venomously. "It says
plainly that the Fifth Dimension is nothing more than a curtain of
invisibility!"

"Of course," Mortenson replied evenly. "I said that, because I did not
want to frighten narrow-minded people with the knowledge that on every
side lurk weird, ferocious man-beasts that would annihilate them, were
it possible for them to emerge from behind the veil that hides the
Fifth Dimension from human vision."

The intruder glared at him, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. Then he
shrugged his broad shoulders decisively.

"You've got one more minute to deliver the goods, professor!" he
barked. "I want the apparatus and instructions on how to operate it.
Now sit down at your typewriter and pound 'em out!"

"It's all right with me, young fellow," said Mortenson resignedly,
"if you want to seal your own doom. That's what you are going to do
if you do some criminal act and place yourself in the Fifth Dimension
to escape apprehension. It's your life, not mine. You won't listen to
reason. I hate to see it...."

"Shut up!" the other growled. "Sit down and write fast!"

"If I should refuse?" Mortenson paused at his typewriter.

"Then I'll drill you," the intruder snapped, tensing.

Mortenson hadn't a qualm of doubt but that the fellow would kill him
in cold blood if he refused. And Mortenson had a great desire to live.
He had just discovered a way to penetrate, neutralize and enter the
invisible world of the Fifth Dimension. He was on the verge of doing
great things in the world of science, and he had no intentions of
removing himself from it by refusing the demands of this daring crook
who was, doubtless, as dangerous as he was fearless.

As he sat down at the typewriter he had a sudden feeling that he would
be doing the law-abiding citizenry a great favor by meekly writing out
instructions as to how to operate the Fifth Dimensional apparatus. The
daring crook would undoubtedly meet his just deserts, if he ventured
behind the veil into the mysterious world of the Fifth Dimension. The
law of man would not be required, he thought, to bring the man to
justice. What lay beyond would see to that.

He shivered a trifle as he thought of it. Swiftly his fingers flew over
the typewriter. Meanwhile the crook stood over him, glaring hostilely,
his gun in readiness to send instant death into the man whose life had
been spent delving into the mysteries of the dimensions. The ignorant
fellow could not know what was in store for him, and he had refused to
listen to cold reason. Mortenson's warning had come from the heart. He
had seen what lay behind the veil, and had been so sick and nauseated
at what he saw, that he had slept little for some nights thereafter.
But let the obstinate fellow go.

Mortenson yanked a sheet of paper from his typewriter, glancing over it
quickly and stood erect.

"There you are, my friend," he said with a shrug. "The instructions are
full and complete. I'll get the apparatus for you."

"Mortenson," the man snapped coldly. "If you've bunked me I'll come
back and blast you into hell! Get that?"

"Never fear, young man," the scientist said, eyeing the fellow
squarely. "The instructions are perfect and simple. Follow them to your
doom. Now for the apparatus...."

"Just a minute, professor," the crook cut in. "You got any plans for
the apparatus?"

Mortenson glanced at him shrewdly, suspiciously. He shook his head.

"No, I have not," he lied glibly. "I have no way of duplicating the
apparatus, if that's what you mean."

"That's it exactly," the other sneered. "If you're lying--"

"I'm not!" the scientist grumbled. "I have not yet had time to make
plans or illustrations. Not getting cold feet, are you?"

The man laughed peculiarly.

"Do I look yellow?" he grunted.

Mortenson agreed silently that he certainly did not look like a coward.
But maybe the yellow streak would show up afterward, when it was too
late to save himself. He smiled grimly and turned his back on the man.
Quickly he strode to a big steel vault that stood in one corner of the
room. The doors hung open. He bent over and removed a strange-looking
helmet and an oval apparatus to which was attached a wide metal belt.
Wires ran down from the helmet and hung loosely with small plugs
dangling at the ends. In front of the helmet were firmly attached two
projecting tubes. With the helmet in place on a man's head, these tubes
fitted in front of the eyes, like field glasses.

The crook appraised the apparatus calmly. He displayed not a trace
of excitement now, but Mortenson's blood pounded at his temples. He
did not object to handing over his instruments, if they were to cause
justice to place the hand of doom on the man who was robbing him and
who had and would rob others. Within ten days he could construct other
sets. The plans were in a safe-deposit vault in the bank. Mortenson
was nobody's fool, though it had not entered his mind when he gave the
_Journal_ editor the interview, that his inventions would ever fall
into the hands of the underworld. He was vaguely sorry now that he had
allowed the news to be published, but it was too late for regret now.
The thing was done.

"There you are, young fellow," he said, placing the apparatus in a heap
on the bench. "Take it and be damned to you!"

"I didn't figure to get it so easy," the crook said, advancing toward
the bench. "I've got a hunch you're trying to be smart!"

He glared at the scientist evilly, his fiery eyes glittering like the
pink orbs of a snake.

"How do you put this stuff on?" he added with a snap.

"Helmet over the head, cylinders in front at the eyes," said Mortenson,
hiding a grin. "Belt around the waist with attachment at the back. Plug
the wires into the oval unit and send yourself into hell!"

"Funny, aren't you?" the fellow growled. "Is that all?"

"Wait and see!" Mortenson mused.

"If you're pulling a fast one ... here! Take this to remember what'll
happen to you if you are!"

The crook stepped forward suddenly. Before Mortenson had time to move
the automatic crashed with a thud on his head. He sank to the floor
with a groan, a terrible roar in his brain, great, dancing lights
spinning before his dazed eyes. The intruder looked at him once,
stepped over the still body and picked up the apparatus. With a pleased
grin he made for the door and vanished into the night.




                                  II

                             _The Robbery_


When Professor Jerome Mortenson regained his senses a midday sun was
casting its brilliant light and warmth through a skylight directly over
him. His head throbbed painfully, his lips were dry and feverish. Dark
stains on his shirt-front made him feel his aching head. His hair was
matted with coagulated blood, his cheek was caked. He marvelled that he
had survived the terrible blow at all.

Half-dazed he stood up, swaying like a drunken man. The room spun like
a top. He closed his eyes to steady himself, then lurched slowly
toward a wash-stand to douse his head in cold water. A trickle of
vermilion ran down his temple after the dried blood had been washed
from a gaping scalp wound that would require at least three stitches
to close. Holding a towel over the gash he sat down to his telephone,
called a doctor, and waited in gloomy silence for his arrival.

He did not have long to wait, however. Within fifteen minutes the
medico was on the scene and in less time the wound was stitched and
bandaged. Feeling the effects of a sedative administered to him,
Mortenson became more alert. Rapidly his mind raced over the robbery.
To make sure that he was not dreaming he went to his safe. The fifth
dimensional apparatus was gone all right.

"Damn!" he ejaculated softly, and then: "Oh, well! It's a wonder the
devil didn't kill me. He thought I was fooling with him, but...."

The shrill cry of a newsboy outside suddenly attracted his attention.
He listened as the cries grew louder. Trembling he went to the door and
stepped out into the open. The sun was dazzling and made his head ache
violently for a moment. The newsy paused in the street and yelled at
him.

"Paper, mister?" he cried sharply. "Extra! All about the phantom
bandit!"

Mortenson dug into his pocket and bought a paper. The headlines made
him wince. Quickly he returned to his laboratory, sat down and began
reading with a strange feeling of helplessness.

    Like a colorful character stepping out of a fantastic Edgar Allan
    Poe story, a lone bandit early today held up the Farmers' National
    Bank here, shot and killed James Sprowl, a teller, and escaped with
    approximately $250,000.00 in cash.

    The holdup occurred shortly after the bank opened its doors this
    morning and according to Martin Jones, Sprowl's assistant, employees
    were forced to line up beside the vault at the command of a man who
    appeared as if by magic.

    Speaking almost hysterically of the bold daylight robbery, Jones is
    quoted as saying:

    "The bandit seemed to appear out of thin air and wore a strange mask
    that had two long cylindrical objects sticking out from the eyes. He
    had not been seen to enter the bank after the doors were opened.

    "I heard his command, even before I could see anything more than a
    vague shadow looming up in front of our cage, and then there
    appeared a peculiar glow around it from which emerged the bandit.

    "He covered Sprowl and me first. I do not recall just what happened
    and I'm not certain if Sprowl grabbed the gun under the counter. But
    the mysterious bandit's automatic exploded and Sprowl fell dead at
    my feet.

    "With everyone cowed and appalled, the man forced us to fill a bag
    with all available cash and with the money he vanished into the air
    again right before our eyes. For a full minute, thereafter, there
    was a peculiar blue haze in the spot where he vanished. I heard him
    laugh weirdly as he disappeared like a ghost."

Mortenson continued to read the accounts for some minutes; then
suddenly he was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. He jumped
nervously, laid the paper aside and went to it. His hand shook on
the knob and his lips twitched. He swung the door wide open, to find
himself confronted by two burly detectives. They displayed their badges
with little formality. But Mortenson knew what they were after.

"Come right in, gentlemen," he invited quickly. "I've been expecting
this call."

"Oh, you have, eh?" Detective-Lieutenant Barton grunted sarcastically.
He glanced over Mortenson with shrewd, suspicious eyes and entered.
Riley, his companion, followed him, his right hand buried in his coat
pocket. Barton continued: "What made you expect this call?" he snapped
bluntly.

At first glance at the newspaper headlines, Mortenson knew he would be
suspected of being the phantom bandit. The world already knew that he,
of all people in it, had been the first man to solve the mysteries of
the Fifth Dimension through the use of strange apparatus such as worn
by the bandit, but he had little doubt of establishing his innocence,
so far as the robbery and killing was concerned. He sat down heavily in
a chair as though to prepare himself for an ordeal of questioning.

"Well," he said slowly, "having invented the apparatus used by the
bandit to make himself invisible, and being known as the inventor, I
would naturally expect to be questioned by the law, considering the
circumstances under which that apparatus has been used. I presume I am
suspected of being the phantom bandit?"

Barton scowled as though taken aback by the scientist's cool,
straightforward speech. He glanced at Riley, whose steel-blue eyes
twinkled with suspicion and amusement.

"You are not only suspected, but accused, Mortenson!" Barton growled.
"What have you to say to that?"

The scientist appraised him calmly, a flush of warm blood mounting to
his cheeks. His head throbbed again and made him slightly dizzy.

"I'll say that I can put you on the right track if you'll listen and
don't go off half-cocked," he said curtly, beginning to resent the
officer's hostile attitude.

"I suppose you'll deny your guilt?" Riley put in ruthlessly.

"I'd be a fool to confess to something I did not do," Mortenson
informed him quickly. "You fellows seem pretty sure of yourselves,
don't you?"

"Now, Mortenson," said Barton, shoving a cigar between his teeth and
pausing to chew at it. "I don't want any beating about the bush. I want
you to tell me exactly where you were this morning at nine-fifteen."

"That's easy, Barton," said Mortenson coolly. "I was lying right
there on the floor, knocked out completely. As usual I worked late
last night. About midnight a masked man came in here, robbed me of my
Fifth Dimensional apparatus, knocked me cold with his gun and skipped.
That's the reason for the bandages on my head and the cause for that
blood-stain on the floor near your feet. I came too about an hour
ago, had Doctor Brandon sew me up, and then bought a newspaper which
informed me of the bank holdup and killing.

"I hardly blame you for suspecting me, but you can see at a glance that
I had nothing to do with the bank affair, except, of course, giving the
crook instructions as to how to operate the apparatus."

"Why did you do that?" snapped Barton.

"To live, Barton," the scientist retorted. "You probably know what it
is to face a gun, not knowing what minute it might go off."

The detectives exchanged baffled glances and Barton bent over to
appraise the blood-stain on the floor. Riley's eyes roved about the
room and finally concentrated on Mortenson's bandaged head.

"Suppose we have a look at that head, Mortenson," he said with a shrug
of his powerful shoulders. Barton looked up.

"Never mind that, Riley," he said authoritively. "Let Wagner do that at
headquarters."

"You mean you are going to take me in on suspicion?" Mortenson sat bolt
upright.

"I've got a warrant for your arrest, Mortenson," the other replied
firmly. "Your story sounds pretty good to me, but I'll have to book you
at least. You'll probably be released on your own recognizance, if the
police surgeon's report is satisfactory. You know...."

"Oh, I know, Barton," said the scientist with a nod. "You think I might
have put that stain there and bashed my own head to establish an alibi.
Well, you're all wrong. Look in the wash-stand and you will see that I
washed the blood off my head and face there. It takes at least eight
hours for blood to coagulate and I'm sure you will find clots in the
sink to prove that I was injured shortly after midnight."

"Why didn't you report to headquarters when you came to?" Riley
grumbled.

"I don't know," said Mortenson. "I guess I was too dazed. Then Dr.
Brandon came and fixed me up. After that I became interested in the
news of the bank robbery."




                                  III

                         _Mortenson Explains_


Entangled in the net of the law, Mortenson, despite his high social
standing and fame as a scientist, was taken to police headquarters and
summarily booked on suspicion. He went through the process of being
finger-printed and "mugged" like a man in a trance. All the while his
head ached violently, sending sharp, stabbing pains through his brain.
The reaction of the blow was telling on him now and his hands shook.
But he submitted to the rigid rules of the police department without
protest, for he had little fear of failure in proving his innocence, if
given the chance.

Finally Police Surgeon Wagner removed the bandage from his head and
appraised the scientist's scalp. Already the edges of the gash were
beginning to heal. A soft scab was forming at the ends of the cut.

"Lucky for you, Mortenson," Wagner said with a grin as he began to
re-bandage the scientist's head, "that you have a thick skull. The blow
might have killed a man less fortunate."

Mortenson nodded. "The devil hit me without warning," he mumbled,
"with the barrel of his gun. Barton hinted that I bashed my head in to
establish an alibi!"

"You'd have to be a contortionist to do that," laughed Wagner. "I get a
huge kick out of some of the flat-feet we have on the detective force.
You've been slugged and no mistake, Mortenson."

"Thanks, Wagner," said Mortenson warmly. "Doubtless you'll put that in
your report."

"Of course," the surgeon replied, ripping some adhesive tape from a
roll. "I couldn't do anything else in this case."

"Then I'll be turned loose," said Mortenson grimly, "on my own
recognizance. If I can get help from the Police Department, I'll make
it mighty hot for a certain bank robber ... that is, if he hasn't
already jumped into the fire. Time alone will tell."

Mortenson could not know that at that very moment the Phantom Bandit
was again making his appearance in the heart of the city's banking
district. This time the daring crook chose the Inter-State Bank for the
scene of his activities. But as the scientist sat in Wagner's office
waiting for the final cessation of police procedure, he heard the
flying squad suddenly tear out of the adjoining station amid a riot of
screaming sirens.

He could not help but conclude that something serious was taking place
somewhere in the city. The scream of the sirens gradually subsided as
the speeding police cars put distance between them and headquarters.
Mortenson glanced at the surgeon as the telephone on his desk jingled.
Wagner pressed a button quickly and the ambulance roared out of the
receiving hospital driveway. The surgeon then glanced at Mortenson.

"The vanishing bandit robbed the Inter-State Bank, Mortenson," he said
crisply. "Killed a watchman and shot up another teller. I guess that
lets you out entirely, old man. You couldn't be the Phantom Bandit and
a _fish_ at the same time."

"Fish?" Mortenson queried blankly. "What do you mean?"

Wagner laughed at the other's questioning expression. "Fish," he said
quickly, "is what we call prisoners."

"Oh," mused Mortenson. "Teller hurt bad?"

"Dunno!" said Wagner. "They usually are when they're sent here." He
turned to the officer into whose custody Mortenson had been placed
for his visit to the receiving room. "Take Mr. Mortenson to the desk,
Tully," said Wagner. "They'll want to release him and apologize. That's
all! And good luck, Mortenson. Hope you catch the phantom bandit."

"Much obliged, Wagner," the scientist replied, rising. "I trust you'll
be ready to receive his corpse."

Wagner chuckled. "In that case, send it next door," he grinned. "The
morgue handles the remains. Think you'll catch him?"

The surgeon's attention was diverted by a sudden screech of brakes
outside. He gave Mortenson a passing glance and went out. Officer Tully
escorted the scientist to the desk-sergeant.

"Heard the news, Mortenson?" the sergeant inquired, grinning.

"About the new robbery--phantom bandit?" the scientist grunted.

The sergeant nodded. "Robbed the Inter-State Bank in broad daylight and
got away like a ghost," he responded talkatively. "By the way, what
kind of an outfit was that he got from you?"

"Rather complicated to explain here, sergeant," Mortenson said,
impatient to obtain his release.

"Yeah?" the other replied slowly. "One of those things, huh?"

"One of those things, sergeant," Mortenson repeated restlessly. "I
suppose now the law is convinced that I am not the phantom bandit. If
that is the case, I'd like to get back to work."

"Right you are, professor," the sergeant boomed. "Moreover, the chief
requested a moment ago to have your fingerprints, picture and all
personal records destroyed. He wants to have a talk with you, if you
don't mind."

Mortenson's features brightened. "Of course," he nodded. "I wanted to
talk with him. How soon can I see him?"

"Right away, sir!" the sergeant stated, turning to Tully who had
wandered off. "Tully!"--he called aloud. The officer came up quickly.
"Take Mr. Mortenson up to the chief's office. He's waiting!"

Newspapermen thronged the office of Chief of Police Steckel. Mortenson
was mobbed until the chief interfered with the eager reporters and
ordered them to the press room. The scientist had a keen dislike for
notoriety and displayed it at the onset by refusing to answer any of
the questions put to him by the zealous reporters. Chief Steckel,
seeing this, went immediately to his rescue. The office was cleared
quickly. Mortenson was invited to a chair.

"Professor Mortenson," the executive began without hesitation, "just
what is the apparatus you report was stolen from you, presumably by
this so-called phantom bandit?"

The scientist settled back in his chair, frowning.

"I'm afraid you would not understand, chief," he said complacently, "as
it is very complicated. But if you like, I'll explain it just as simply
as I can."

Steckel shook his head eagerly, handed a cigar to the scientist and lit
one himself. Immersed in a cloud of blue, fragrant smoke, Mortenson
explained the principle of his invention, its use to science and,
unfortunately, to crime. He told what lay behind the veil of the Fifth
Dimension, that invisible world beyond the vision of man, yet which
existed on every human hand; there in the office, up on the roof and
out on the streets. He went further to say that even within the world
of the Fifth Dimension others existed--the Sixth, the Seventh and so on
probably without limit!

But of them all, Mortenson had succeeded in neutralizing the curtain,
behind which existed the Fifth Dimension. Steckel was astounded as he
grasped the magnitude of the facts. He pressed the scientist for more
information and got it.

"You see, chief," Mortenson said finally, "our visionary organs behold
only the colors of the spectrum. Below and above each individual color
is a deeper shade which our eyes cannot perceive because of the high
or low vibrations of light, whichever the case may be. Now the Fifth
Dimension lies above the violet shade. Physical science calls this
'color' the ultra-violet. It is a vast, invisible realm in itself,
as invisible to us as our own world is to the creatures who inhabit
the Fifth Dimension. It is invisible because of the rapid vibratory
oscillation of its light scale. Color or rather ether waves have high
light scales of vibration, too rapid or too slow to be perceived by the
naked human eye. On each of these scales lie vast realms, some teeming
with life of primitive or advanced state, others absolutely blank
because of adverse electronic conditions.

"Taking the scale of light offered by the ultra-violet as my field
of study and experiment, I succeeded in neutralizing the veil of
invisibility, that enshrouds the Fifth Dimension. In doing this I
overcome the vibrations of light and electrical current. By applying
these oscillations to the physical body through the instrument I
devised, and which, incidentally, was stolen from me last night, I
was able to transfer my own body from our world to the realm of the
Fifth Dimension. These vibrations and electronic movements, when
applied to the physical body, cause it to become invisible at once and
automatically transfer it to the particular scale to which they are
aligned.

"By adapting certain prismatic lenses to my eyes, I was able to visit
and to perceive this ultra-violet world and all that exists in it
within range of vision. You can imagine my amazement when I beheld a
world of solids, that was tinted with a pale violet shade, as the earth
is with gold at times of sunset. And my apparatus had placed me right
in the midst of death and destruction! The Fifth Dimension teems with
primitive life; is inhabited by strange creatures, armed with primitive
but deadly weapons.

"That was my first venture into the realm of the Fifth Dimension, my
dear Chief. And in my horror and fear I transferred myself back to
our own world before the creatures recovered sufficiently from their
surprise at seeing me to attack. I was afraid to venture there again,
alone, and was working on a new form of weapon for defense, when I
was held up and robbed of the instrument that made my visit to the
ultra-violet realm possible. This phantom bandit is undoubtedly the
very man who stole my apparatus, but for the life of me, I cannot
understand how he manages to enter the Fifth Dimension and remain for
any length of time, without being destroyed by the creatures who live
there!"

Chief Steckel eyed him strangely, perhaps a trifle incredulous in his
expression.

"You really mean then, Mortenson," he said softly and in a baffled
tone, "that this vanishing killer-bandit can rob and murder and hide
behind a curtain of invisibility beyond the reach of the law?"

"That gives us exactly his reason for taking my apparatus," said the
scientist, "and obviously for what he is doing now, hiding somewhere
in the Fifth Dimension, safe from human apprehension!"

"Good Lord, man!" Steckel exploded suddenly. "Does that mean we'll
never have a chance to grab him?"

Professor Mortenson smiled shrewdly. "You'll never lay hands on him,
Steckel," he said flatly. "Unless you give me your aid in carrying out
a plan I have already devised. Even then it may be impossible, but we
can try. Meanwhile this criminal is going to go about his way killing
and robbing at will and may, at this very moment, be in this room!"

Steckel's face paled and his eyes flashed. Mechanically he glanced
around as though searching for some imaginary eavesdropper. But
Mortenson quickly placed him at ease.

"He could not hear a thing from this world if he is hiding in the
other," he said. "Sound is similar to light in that respect. There are
sounds too high or too low in pitch to be heard by our limited auditory
capacities. The desperado would have to be right here and visible to
hear what we say. He may watch every move I make now, for he warned me
that I would be a dead man, the first attempt I made to follow him into
the Fifth Dimension."

Steckel's eyes continued to flash apprehensively. "Why, the devil might
have designs on _my_ life," he said. "He might pop up at any moment,
kill me for the good of the underworld, and vanish again! Or he might
kill you if he thought you could duplicate the apparatus!"

Mortenson scrutinized the chief thoughtfully.

"He doesn't, chief," he said seriously. "At least that is my
impression. I told him I had no plans of the instrument; that I could
not duplicate them. Had he believed otherwise, I'd have gotten his
bullet instead of a crack on the skull."

"But you can duplicate them, Mortenson?" the chief asked eagerly.

Mortenson laughed shrewdly. "Of course," he replied. "I have a complete
set of plans. I merely lied to save my neck!"

"You intend to use them, then?" Steckel inquired, leaning forward.

The scientist nodded. Without hesitation he explained his scheme.
Steckel listened intently, his eyes narrowed.

"So you see," Mortenson finally concluded, "we can make it mighty hot
for the killer if I get the support of your department. It will be an
exceptionally dangerous adventure, but worth...."

"Then count me in personally!" Steckel injected quickly. "If we can
lay our hands on the phantom bandit by going into the Fifth Dimension
after him, it will be worth the chance we take. When you are ready I'll
detail eight men to your services. Moreover, the department will stand
the expense of duplicating your apparatus ... ten complete sets. I
think it would be well to start immediately, don't you?"

"Right!" ejaculated Mortenson, rising. "But it will take ten days or
more to build the instruments."

Steckel groaned. "Meanwhile the crook will keep on operating!" he said
grimly. "The city will be at his mercy until the sets are finished. But
I guess it can't be helped."

"No," said the scientist slowly, "it can't be helped."




                                  IV

                             _The Visitor_


Days passed swiftly. Gold seemed to have become an obsession with
the phantom bandit. The police were powerless. The crook robbed and
killed at will, feeling safe and secure in his ability to swoop down
and vanish, leaving the alert minions of the law baffled completely.
In three days he had robbed four banks and escaped with his loot. He
left death and fear behind him on each occasion. Then for a whole day
he failed to appear, but Mortenson felt that he would return. And he
did, the following day, to loot the city treasury of a quarter million
dollars!

Then the rumbling of public protest echoed through the press. Chief
Steckel and his department were at once swamped in a vortex of
caustic sentiment. But the chief had been under fire before and
remained silent, while the press made light of his ability to cope
with the underworld forces, particularly with the phantom bandit. He
was powerless and knew it, yet he kept secret his negotiations with
Professor Mortenson. It would never do to allow that to get out! Before
Mortenson could complete his apparatus, the phantom crook would swoop
down upon him and kill him. What then? Chief Steckel was no fool, and
he took the bitter dose without complaint.

The "_Journal_" boldly asked the mayor and the police commission to
dismiss him. Steckel was called on the carpet and thoroughly denounced.
Sentiment and unmerciful nagging were beginning to disrupt the whole
department, a fine machine that he had built up for the protection of
the people. He smiled grimly through it all, and finally asked for
a fifteen day stay of removal. This was granted to him by the mayor
despite the protests of the press and the commission. Steckel laughed
secretly and told himself that there'd be a change of opinion at the
end of fifteen days.

Meanwhile, Mortenson, with five expert opticians and three master
mechanics under him, worked doggedly in his laboratory. The laboratory
adjoined the scientist's big house where they consumed their meals
hurriedly. Mortenson slept with the men a few hours each night in the
workroom. Plain-clothes men lurked about the place as a precaution
against a raid on the scientist by the vanishing criminal who, they
suspicioned, might have learned through the grapevine system what was
going on.

But the crook appeared to have taken Mortenson's word that it was
impossible to duplicate the instrument that transferred him from
one plane to another. He seemed satisfied to add to his already
fabulous coffers and let the scientist alone. Perhaps he was afraid of
Mortenson, fearing that the scientist might have evolved some means of
nullifying the effect of the vibration on the physical body.

Mortenson was elated at his progress, but he had a constant fear of
the criminal. Doubtlessly the man would kill him if he learned that he
was putting his heart and soul into the work of building sufficient
apparatus to outfit a squad of police officers who would use them to
hunt him down in the mysterious, invisible world. Yet the scientist
worked dauntlessly, night and day, feeling more secure with each
passing hour as the instruments neared completion.

To kill Mortenson, the desperado would first have to emerge from behind
the veil of the Fifth Dimension. To do this would lay him open for
immediate death at the hands of the officers and plain-clothes men, who
constantly guarded the scientist. As a further precaution, Mortenson
was on the alert at all times. He was armed and ready to defend his
life, yet there persisted within him a constant fear that the man would
unexpectedly appear and shoot him in the back.

Finally Mortenson stepped back and appraised ten complete Fifth
Dimension sets neatly arranged on the workbench. Each set was equipped
with a wide metal belt, attached to which was a small, oval box
containing storage batteries capable of releasing vibratory electronic
current. Loose wires as thin as thread, with small plugs at the ends,
ran from the head-gear. The gear appeared like field glasses connected
to a leather helmet. But inside the leather ran meshed wire with bare
electrodes exposed to fit snugly against the forehead and the back of
the neck.

He trembled with excitement when he realized that at last the job was
completed. The plans had been followed to the minutest detail. Nothing
could go wrong and Mortenson shivered at the thought of what lay behind
the curtain that hid the Fifth Dimension from view. He meditated a
moment on the miracle that had prevented the phantom terror from
meeting his doom behind the veil. Then his telephone disrupted his
thoughts. He went to it at once. His caller was Chief Steckel and his
voice trembled fearfully.

"My God, Mortenson," he informed the scientist. "The phantom bandit
shot at me on Broadway a few moments ago! His slug creased my shoulder!"

"No!" Mortenson was incredulous. "Why would he want to kill you?"

"I told you before, Mortenson," Steckel said, "that he might kill
me for the benefit of the underworld! They couldn't buy me off for
protection, but they could kill me to intimidate the Department!"

"You mean actually that the fellow shot at you right on Broadway?"
Mortenson inquired dubiously.

"He did!" snapped Steckel. "What's more, he took a chunk out of my
shoulder! Before he could shoot again a crowd surged around him. He
vanished in a blue haze like a ghost!"

"It seems incredible that the fellow would be so bold," said Mortenson,
"but will your wound interfere with your going into the other world?"

"I'm not hurt seriously enough for that," responded the chief. "How
soon are you going to be ready?"

"Right away, Steckel," said the scientist grimly. "I was going to
call you in a few moments. But get your squad and come on over to my
laboratory. Everything is ready!"

"Good!" said Steckel. "Take my advice and watch your step! That fellow
may try to get you! I think he's been tipped off to our plans!"

"Don't worry about me," said Mortenson lightly. "I'm well guarded."

Mortenson hung up the receiver and turned to his staff of assistants.
The work was completed and he needed them no longer. His payroll was
already prepared and he paid them off. They were dismissed, but as they
filed through the door, Mortenson kept his right hand in his pocket.
His fingers closed tightly around the butt of an automatic. He was
taking no chances on a sudden appearance of the phantom bandit.

For fully five minutes after the last man had gone out of the room, he
stood beside the bench and waited silently. Then cautiously he went
to the door and barred it from the inside. With a sigh of relief he
turned. A blue haze appeared suddenly before him. It made him blink for
an instant. Then out of the shimmering, vibrating mist appeared the
form of a man.

Had Professor Mortenson been struck by lightning, he could have been
no more stunned or electrified. He recoiled, throwing his arms up as
though to shield his face from a blow. Out of the dimming haze emerged
a man, looking grotesque in a Fifth Dimension helmet. In his right hand
was a blunt-nosed automatic. Mortenson's face went bloodless.

The phantom bandit stood before him, a cold, significant sneer on his
lips. Suddenly he laughed outright, like a man without a soul. The tone
of it filled Mortenson with a deep-seated fear.

"You--you've come back!" he gasped, glancing about him wildly.

The bandit laughed again in a weird display of mirth. Something had
changed the man, re-made him entirely, Mortenson thought. He was not
the young, dashing desperado that had appeared in the laboratory ten
days previously and walked away with the Fifth Dimensional apparatus!
This man had a stubble of gray beard on his chin and his clothes were
tattered and torn. And he seemed like a man who had gone through hell
and left his soul with the devil's imps!

"I said I'd come back, didn't I, professor?" he snapped savagely. "I
thought you were telling me the truth, the night I cracked you on the
head. But you're a liar, Mortenson!"

"But ..." Mortenson began, stammering.

"Shut up!" the bandit cut in with an oath. "You thought you could
fool me, didn't you, Mortenson? But you didn't, you sneak! You never
stopped to think that I'd have you watched, did you?"

Mortenson winced. His vitals seemed to turn over within him at the cold
chill of the killer's now sharp, biting voice. He was getting control
of himself rapidly now and he stood in the middle of the floor like a
graven image. He could not see the man's eyes, for they were hidden
behind the vision cylinders of the helmet. But he could watch the
fellow's lips. They were thick and cruel and curled up to the right
side of his mouth with almost every word he spoke.

"Then why didn't you kill me a week ago?" the scientist hissed suddenly.

Again the bandit laughed. "I just wanted to see how far you'd go,
Mortenson!" he snarled. "I thought I'd let you get your ten sets of
apparatus built and then bump you off for your trouble!"

"You're a cool liar!" said the scientist boldly. "There's something
deeper than that. You thought you'd let me build ten more sets so you
could take them for your pals, eh?"

"You astound me with your psychic powers, professor!" the bandit
sneered. "Of course I wanted the other sets! But I'm going to kill
you nevertheless! Isn't it a disappointment to have worked like a dog
merely to be killed in the end?"

Mortenson was perfectly aware of that, but his deadly cold features
failed to display the truth. He laughed loudly in the man's face.

"You're not going to kill me or anybody else, my friend!" he said
perhaps a trifle hysterically. "All I need to do is to call the guards!"

"Humph!" the killer growled. "I fixed every bull on the place; knocked
every one of them cold. They're a bunch of lazy flat-feet!"

"Good Lord, man!" gasped Mortenson, sobering. "Don't tell me you killed
all those detectives!"

"No, I didn't kill 'em!" the other barked. "But it'll be a month before
they get over their headaches! Now listen to me, Mortenson. You're a
damned smart man ..." he lowered his voice, "and I hate to kill smart
men...."

"You don't say!" Mortenson cut in sarcastically.

"Shut your mouth!" the bandit snarled, shoving forth his gun in a
significant gesture. "I'll do the talking! You listen until I ask you
to speak!"

The scientist, resolved that if he was destined to die, he would do so
like a man and he realized suddenly that if ever a man faced death,
he was facing it now. But somehow, after his first scare, he was not
frightened and in a few moments Steckel would arrive with his squad. If
he could stall the bandit along until then, well....

The killer's voice diverted his thoughts.

"As I was saying," he said softly, "you're a smart man and I understand
you're not very well fixed financially. Now just supposing I'd settle
a million on your bank account ... just supposing I would. Would that
make any difference in your life?"

"Just what do you mean, young man?" Mortenson arched his brows.

"Don't stall, professor!" the man ordered curtly. "You know what I'm
driving at. In case you don't, I'll enlighten you. I'd like to have a
man like you on my side and I'm willing to pay a big price, too. I'm
going to organize a bunch of my friends and declare the Fifth Dimension
as my inviolate domain. In exchange for your services and help I'd make
you my right hand man. With your brains and my guts, we could go a long
way, but listen! I don't really need you! I can have those devices
duplicated anytime! I'm merely giving you a chance to live. What do you
say?"

Bribery! But why would this man try to tempt him? What could he,
Mortenson, do that would aid the underworld, unless it was to build
Fifth Dimensional apparatus to outfit the phantom criminal's followers?

Mortenson studied the man meditatively, his brain working rapidly.
So the fellow wanted his services, eh? Why, when he could have the
apparatus duplicated by some corrupt scientist? Or could anyone
duplicate them at all, beyond himself? Mortenson's eyes narrowed as he
grasped the full significance of the man's bold proposition.

The apparatus could not be duplicated by anyone but himself! That was
why the bandit was so intent upon enlisting his aid to set up a domain
of terror in the Fifth Dimension, a domain that would prey unmercifully
upon the world in which he now stood. That was Mortenson's conclusion
and it was correct. The bandit had tried elsewhere to have the
apparatus duplicated and had failed. Without Mortenson's help his mad,
daring scheme would also fail.

Mortenson stroked his chin in silence. His attitude was that of a man
deciding an important issue in deep thought. The bandit squinted at him
shrewdly, a leering smile on his almost diabolical lips. Then Mortenson
addressed him.

"What about the creatures in the Fifth Dimension?" he asked curtly.

Before the criminal could make a reply, there came the sound of heavy
footsteps from the hall leading to the laboratory from the outside.
Instantly the man tensed, jerking his automatic in line with the door.
Mortenson's heart pounded like a triphammer. Chief Steckel and his men
had arrived. But were they in time?

The phantom bandit backed slowly toward the work bench on which lay the
ten completed sets of Fifth Dimension apparatus. A heavy knock rattled
the laboratory door. The bandit squinted at the scientist.

"Well, what about it, Mortenson?" he hissed coldly. "You with me or
not?"

The scientist winced as the man levelled his automatic at him.

"I haven't had time to decide," he replied in a quivering voice. He
glanced at the door. It was barred, but through it he could hear the
voices of the men outside.

"Then I'll be generous with you and give you twelve hours to make up
your mind," he jeered. "Meantime I'm going to take care of these ten
sets of apparatus."

A wave of fear and desperation went over Mortenson as he realized that
the man was going to make away with the Fifth Dimensional devices. He
felt an urge to cry out to Steckel to smash down the door, but the
bandit's pistol prevented it. In his pocket lay his own automatic, but
it was useless now. If he made one move to draw it the bandit would
undoubtedly kill him without a qualm.

Suddenly he seemed to calm. He overcame a wild roving of his eyes and
settled them on the bandit. Then slowly he advanced toward the man,
speaking in a lowered voice. "You say there's a million in it for me?"
he asked in a half whisper.

The bandit nodded and relaxed. "Yeah!" he said quickly. "And more if
you play ball with me."

"How do I know you will not double-cross me?" Mortenson asked,
advancing carelessly.

"When I give my word, I don't go back on it," the bandit replied with a
perfunctory shrug. He lowered his automatic a trifle, impressed by the
scientist's interest in his proposition.

"All right!" said Mortenson decisively. He halted within four feet of
the bandit and jerked his thumb at the door. "Speak low," he said, "or
they'll hear you. Now, it'll take twenty thousand to start building
apparatus on a big scale."

"That's fine," the bandit nodded, pulling a roll of bills from a pocket
and glancing at it carelessly. By sheer force of desperation, Mortenson
lashed out savagely and brought both hands down on the man's gun-arm.
Instantly the automatic spat like a whiplash and then clattered to the
floor. With an oath he swung around at the scientist, his roll of bills
scattering.

Screaming at the top of his voice, Mortenson lunged himself bodily at
the phantom bandit. His arms caught him around the waist. They fell to
the floor, Mortenson yelling at the officers outside.

"Steckel!" he screamed wildly. "Break down the door! BREAK IT DOWN!"

A savage foot caught Mortenson on the chest and sent him spinning.
There was a rending crash of splintering wood and into the laboratory
rushed Steckel and his men. Mortenson stared at them in a daze.

"Get him, Steckel!" he shrieked. "He's lying on the floor near the
bench!"

Automatics drawn, the officers glanced toward the bench. Above it
hovered a pale blue haze that shimmered like a curtain of smoke. From
it came a venomous curse that all could hear before the phantom bandit
vanished completely into the Fifth Dimension.

"I'll get you for that, Mortenson!" the bandit snarled. "You dirty
double-crosser! I'll get you if it's the last...." His voice trailed
off into nothing as he penetrated the veil between the two worlds.

"Did you hear that, Steckel?" Mortenson gasped, rising.

"What's it all about?" Steckel grumbled, mystified.

"The phantom bandit!" exclaimed the scientist. "He was in here ... you
heard his voice! I tackled him in an effort to hold him, but he kicked
me and got away."

Mortenson rushed to his work bench. On it lay the untouched apparatus.
His mad lunge at the bandit and the appearance of the officers had
thwarted the desperado's intentions of making away with them. The
scientist gave a sigh of relief and turned to Steckel.

"Let's get started, chief," he said urgingly. "There's no time to lose.
The bandit is somewhere close and we must catch him. My life isn't
worth a counterfeit penny now!"




                                   V

                      _Into the Fifth Dimension_


With Chief Steckel and eight grim-faced officers including Barton and
Riley lined up, Mortenson hurriedly gave instructions on the operation
of the Fifth Dimensional apparatus. Each man wore a set, giving them
the appearance of gargantuan creatures of another world, with the
projecting eyes, tight-fitting helmets and wide metal belts. They
looked like men from Mars, but Mortenson had no time to make such
observations or any comparisons.

He had made some important improvements over the first set of
apparatus taken by the phantom bandit. The new ones were equipped with
a small panel that hung down over the chest. On this were three buttons
arranged in numerical order so that the wearer could press number one
and start the electronic vibrations coursing gently through the body,
and on down to number three which actually neutralized the veil of
invisibility between the two worlds. This arrangement, he thought, made
the apparatus fool-proof.

Finally the scientist donned his own set. As he swung the lenses
before his eyes he glanced along the line of men. Each officer held
an improved model sub-machine gun capable of firing a hundred rounds
of ammunition at one loading. They were short, squat weapons with
cartridge disks on the barrel just before the stock grip. A grim set of
men, he concluded, who would stop at nothing to apprehend the desperado
who struck without warning like a _fer de lance_, leaving death and
terror on his invisible trail.

"Are you all ready, men?" Mortenson inquired suddenly. A murmur of
assent ran along the line. "Remember what I told you ... in event any
of you are wounded in the world which we are now to enter and want
to transfer yourself back here in a hurry, press all three buttons
simultaneously. The vibratory reaction will probably knock you out for
a moment, but it will not harm you. Take note of your surroundings when
we enter the Fifth Dimension so that you can mark the spot for the
return to this laboratory. Now, gentlemen, place your fingers on the
control buttons and press number one. Allow a count of five seconds to
pass, then press number two and repeat the operation until after number
three has been pressed. Ready! Press number one!"

A faint throbbing surged through the ten men as they simultaneously
pressed the first button. The laboratory went aglow with the pale blue
luminosity. Then the throbbing intensified, whirring like the wings of
a honeybee. To an observer the men might have appeared to vanish slowly
from the room in a thin vapor of blue. The electronic current played
around them in a shimmering curtain, the electrodes pressing against
their flesh creating a slight burning sensation. Their muscles seemed
to jerk as the vibrations intensified. As they pressed the third button
the throbbing became a high-pitched whine, rising in tone until it
almost screamed.

Each man felt a sinister dizziness as he left the laboratory. After a
moment of nausea and the sensation of falling into an abysmal pit, they
felt no other reaction to the rapid vibrations of the apparatus. But
the current continued to whine, sending the oscillations throughout
their bodies and weapons with unceasing force. Gradually the weird,
spectral world of the Fifth Dimension unfolded itself before them.
From their eye-instruments shot twin jets of violet light, that seemed
to illuminate a jumbled mass before them. Slowly the terrain of the
Fifth Dimension assumed definite shape. It was a rolling, uneven world,
covered with a tall violet lush and spectral forests of deep blue. No
tall mountains were visible; rather was the Fifth Dimension a place of
undulating hills, rolling and rippling as far as they could see.

Just rimming the horizon stood a ball of violet flame. Mortenson knew
it was the sun, but he was not certain if it was rising or setting. Its
heat made them uncomfortable, for it seemed to bite into them like
acid at first. Gradually, as the strange world became clearly defined,
they grew accustomed to the force of the violet disk and after a few
moments it had risen above the horizon. They had entered the Fifth
Dimension at sun rise! On their own world it was well past noon.

Tensed almost to the snapping point, each of the ten men stared about
them in search of the horrible creatures Mortenson had told Steckel
existed there. Suddenly they discovered that they were actually
standing in swaying lush that reached to their shoulders. This came
upon them as their eyes began to observe their immediate vicinity. The
sudden change of environment had caused them a mild far-sightedness,
but now they could see clearly on every side. The lush rolled and
swayed like a sea of earthly wheat-stalks in a light breeze.

Mortenson realized in a moment that they would have to mark the spot or
their inevitable wanderings would cause them to become hopelessly lost.
He yanked his kerchief from a pocket and tied it like a flag to a tuft
of the taller plants. It waved feebly in a cool breeze. He turned to
Chief Steckel.

"I think it best that we string out in a line, Steckel," he said, his
voice sounding microscopically low. "We ought to come upon the phantom
bandit's trail in this vicinity. But be careful! He must be desperate
and will shoot on sight."

Steckel gave his curt orders. The officers stretched out in a long
line. The chief and Mortenson went forward side-by-side with Barton
and Riley flanking them. The line swung gradually in a circle around
the scientist's handkerchief which acted as a centre. The lush seemed
unbroken, being so closely grown together that even a small animal
would have left visible indications of its passing through it. They
continued onward until suddenly the officers at the far end of the line
emitted a triumphant yell. Immediately the others surrounded him to
find the lush broken in a narrow path through which the desperado had
gone. Feet had trampled down one spot. The trail led away from it. The
trampled lush in the one place gave them the impression that the man
had popped up out of the yielding soil to go marching away.

Barton suddenly stooped over to pick up an object. He handed it to
Chief Steckel. It was a black-tipped matchstick.

"We're on his trail, chief," he said excitedly. "He lit a smoke here
and tossed the match at his feet!"

Steckel gave a sibilant whistle. "Damned if we haven't traced the snake
to his hole!" he snapped. "I hadn't much stock in this scheme, but it
looks like his trail, all right. Let's follow it, strung out. He might
be hiding in the grass and a line will bring him out."

He started forward rapidly, eagerly. Mortenson grasped his arm.

"Not so fast, Steckel," he warned ominously. "We're not in our own
world, but in one unknown. This tall lush might harbor anything. I
have no stomach for running into a wandering band of Fifth Dimensional
beings."

Steckel fell back instantly. With Mortenson beside him he followed
the trail, the others strung out on either side. Slowly they went on
for what seemed hours. It was hard work for them to go through the
lush. It was as tough and fibrous as dried coconut husks. Had it not
been for their heavy clothing they would have been cut to shreds in
no time. Their hands suffered from the ordeal, but it could not be
helped. They had not prepared for such conditions and it was too late
to go back. They were at last on the trail of the phantom killer. Only
death or inconceivable terror could drive them from it. The man must be
apprehended at any cost and each had secretly resolved to see the thing
through to a finish. Yet they derived a certain sense of pride from the
fact that they were among the first humans ever to tread this strange,
blue-tinted world. Police history would long remember them for their
daring.

Suddenly there was a violent commotion in the lush not far ahead.
Abruptly the intrepid man-hunters halted in their tracks. Machine guns
were snapped forward. Then a terrifying shriek rent the stillness.
Mortenson's blood chilled and he crouched instinctively. The others did
likewise from natural instinct, weapons aimed straight ahead to sweep
the wall of vegetation with a deadly fire.

For a moment thereafter the place was as silent as a tomb. Then another
shriek came from ahead. Tensely the men waited and then the thing
appeared, head and shoulders above the swaying, rolling sea of lush.
Barton let out a feverish yell and snapped up his gun. It rattled with
a staccato snap. The men stood erect to see an incredible monstrosity
staring at them through a triangle of eyes that seemed to spit blue
flame.

The monster of the Fifth Dimension was like an awful nightmare. It had
a long, reptilian neck, at the end of which was a venomous-looking
head. Its eyes, as large as saucers, were deep set in the forehead,
like the three corners of a triangle. From its neck spurted streams
of greenish-blue liquid, spilling through the wounds made by Barton's
missiles. The enormous head was studded with unnumbered horns and waved
back and forth, a long, purple tongue darting from between fang-filled
jaws. With a sudden lunge the beast moved toward the men.

"Shoot!" Steckel bellowed, aghast. "Don't stand there like a squad of
statues! Shoot!"

The machine guns went into action with an ominous deadliness. The first
barrage literally clipped the monster's head from its body. The beast
leaped high in the air and fell with a thud, to writhe in the throes of
agony and death. Its long, reptilian tail lashed out, beating madly.
Finally the creature lay still and the men went cautiously toward it.

The beast had the legs of a centipede, but thick and powerful. The feet
were four-toed and savagely clawed. Mortenson was astounded to find a
cross between the reptile and the insect and he promptly named it a
_serpenta insecteana_.

With a shudder he turned away. The grim-faced man-hunters continued
to follow the trail, wondering silently how the phantom bandit had
managed to escape the terrifying beast. But the man had had at least a
half-hour start on them and Mortenson concluded that the creature had
just happened along.

Mile after mile they plodded on, gripping their guns. The phantom
bandit, it seemed, had covered mileage at a rapid rate. Finally they
entered into a large clearing at the edge of a spectral forest. Weird
trees with thick, leafless branches stood before them, but in the
clearing they found traces of a fire. The coals were dead and cold.

"The bandit must have stopped here several days ago," said Mortenson to
Steckel. "I think he went on into the forest this day. Let's look for
the trail at the edge of the trees."

They discovered the trail quickly. It continued onward through an aisle
of trees. They followed it single-file now, for the growths were too
thick to be penetrated on the sides. The path seemed to be well-beaten
but almost every step of the fleeing desperado was marked by the
outline of his heels in the yielding soil.

There were other tracks too, that interested Mortenson, causing him
considerable apprehension. The foot-marks of the Fifth Dimension
dwellers were clearly defined on the trail. The marks were broad,
disclosing the outlines of feet that were like those of a monster goose.

Eventually they emerged from the forest. It proved to be merely a
mile-wide belt of trees. Now they found themselves in the tall lush
again. The trail continued through it. The lush was well-trampled now
as though a large party of men had gone through.

After another hour of steady walking, they encountered a series of
trails branching from the main path. They paused, baffled.

"Looks like we're getting near some town or encampment, Mortenson,"
Steckel suggested. "Do you think the desperado could have gone on ahead
to mingle with the creatures you say exist here?"

"That," said the scientist blankly, "I cannot answer. It is hard to
believe, however, that any human could stand on friendly terms with
such savage, such grotesque beings. The ones I beheld were indeed
savage, though my imagination might have made them more so than they
are."

Steckel spat at a large, gargantuan beetle that ambled across the
trail. "Which one of these trails do you think we ought to follow?" he
asked bluntly.

"I'd follow the center one," said Mortenson, studying the trail
closely. "Look! There's a heel print."




                                  VI

                               _Trapped_


Doggedly they went on. Here and there the man's foot-prints showed
clearly, but the others were likewise defined. Mortenson wondered if
the band had been finally captured, and was being taken now to some
Fifth Dimension village. But his thoughts were diverted suddenly,
when the men before him halted. They had come upon another clearing,
one that sloped down the side of a rolling hill. Well-worn paths
criss-crossed it and in the center stood a squalid town with primitive
shacks, closely packed together. Off to the left browsed a score or
more of strange beasts. Mortenson squinted at them. They were of the
same species as was the one which their bullets had destroyed back in
the sea of lush! As though sensing the strange visitors, the beasts
lifted their heads, eyed them for a moment, and then ambled away.

Something suddenly whined past Steckel's face. It was followed by the
dull report of a gun. Instinctively they dodged back out of sight.
Steckel looked at Mortenson. His face was white and bloodless.

"He's in that town, Mortenson!" he cried. "He's there!"

"Undoubtedly," replied the scientist, gripping his automatic tightly.
"He took a pot shot at us. I saw a wisp of smoke from one of the
shacks!"

"Then we've got a fight on our hands, chief," said Barton grimly. "And
he's got friends. Let's rush...."

A bullet clipped a blade of lush beside his face and he flattened
himself. Then came another report. Barton lined his machine gun on the
town, but Mortenson held his arm.

"Don't waste bullets, Barton," he advised. "Wait until you see
something to shoot at; then let 'em have it."

That _something_ was soon to appear, for hardly had Mortenson finished
giving his warning to Barton than a score of the strange beasts
raced from the back of the town and galloped toward them. Running
like mammoth centipedes, reptilian heads high, long tails dragging
behind them, they came. The men watched, awe-struck. Then a yell from
Mortenson broke the spell of awe, that had held them motionless.

"Here they come!" he bellowed, snapping up his automatic. "Look on
their backs!"

On each beast rode two or more Fifth Dimension dwellers. They held
primitive bows in their hands and had quivers of arrows hanging across
their backs. They looked almost human, astride the racing beasts, their
long, skinny legs dangling, equally thin arms of which there were four
to each creature, waving above their grotesque, egg-shaped heads.
They were dwarfed by the size of the monstrous mounts which needed no
urging. As they neared the astonished man-hunters, they appeared all
arms and legs. Their bodies, blue in color, were short and thick, like
the fat belly of a great ape. Their eyes protruded from their faces and
waved like the feelers of a snail. And they were equally as loathsome.

"Good God, Mortenson!" Steckel groaned. "We're out-numbered fifteen to
one!"

The scientist shuddered, his eyes bulging with terror. "We can't lie
here and let them run us down!" he mumbled tensely. "Order your men to
shoot their mounts! That'll stop them for the present!"

Steckel stood up impulsively. His head and shoulders rose above the
lush. His men lay around him, watching the approaching horde through
the vegetation. Before he could give an order, something tugged at his
sleeve. A dull report followed and a wisp of white smoke floated from
the back of one of the running monsters. Steckel sank with a groan, his
left arm feeling numb.

"He got me!" he said dismally. "The killer!"

"Hurt bad, Chief?" Barton quizzed, excitedly.

Steckel shook his head. "Creased me, Barton," he replied. Then he
yelled at his men. Instantly the lush at the edge of the clearing
became a hornet's nest. The machine guns rattled dully. Mortenson's
pistol cracked and his target pitched to the ground. A half-dozen
beasts reared up, screamed hideously, and rolled over, spilling their
riders headlong. The latter dodged behind the prostrate beasts and
showered the ambushers with a hail of arrows.

A shaft buried itself in Riley's chest. He emitted a shrill death cry
and rolled over, clutching frenziedly at the arrow. Steckel picked up
the detective's machine gun and sent death into more of the running
beasts. But there was no halting their mad rush. They continued on
toward the men in the lush and the creatures on their backs were either
tremendously courageous or too stupid to sense their own danger. They
stuck to their mounts until they fell. The clearing was littered with
dead and dying. Then the last of the beasts went down under a solid
barrage of bullets from the machine guns. It was literally torn to
pieces. The riders were buried under it as it rolled over on its back.

Mortenson had a glimpse of a human being running back toward the
town. Instantly his automatic went up, but Mortenson had never been a
marksman. He emptied his gun at the fleeing desperado and groaned as
the man vanished from view. He turned quickly to Steckel. The chief was
shooting wildly at the dead beasts hoping to down some of the hideous
creatures shielded behind them.

"Steckel!" Mortenson called to attract his attention. The chief looked
around, quizzically. "The bandit just ran into a shack to the left,"
the scientist continued. "I saw him! He didn't have on his Fifth
Dimensional apparatus! We've got to get him before he puts it on and
vanishes back to our own world! What do you say we rush the town?"

"We'll be killed, Mortenson!" Steckel declared excitedly. "Those devils
will run us through with arrows, before we get half-way across the
clearing!"

"There are only a few of them left," insisted Mortenson. "We can make
it. It's now or never, Steckel."

Steckel eyed him thoughtfully for an instant and then spoke to Barton.

"We're going to rush the town, Bart!" he said. "Call the men together
and let's go!"

"Okay, Chief," said the detective. "We got 'em on the run now!"

He yelled to the men. Two of them were sitting on the ground, fumbling
with their apparatus. They were wounded. Riley was dead, his face
twisted in a grotesque mask of death. As the remaining men stood up,
the two wounded officers vanished as they transferred themselves back
to their own world.

With Steckel and Mortenson in the lead, they started across the
clearing. A hail of arrows caused them to crouch.

"Split!" yelled the chief. "Barton, you flank the devils and wipe them
out!"

Barton ran off to the right to get in the rear of the creatures, who
were hiding behind a dead beast. In a moment his machine gun rattled.
The others saw several skinny-legged beings leap into the air. They
made no sound as they fell back, dead. The attackers had been wiped
out, leaving the way clear.

Mortenson, lying on the ground close to a dead dweller of the blue
world, appraised the creature quickly. He was a hideous specimen of a
strange race. His face was round and his protruding eyes hung limply
in death. His mouth was loathsome and was half-open, revealing jagged
teeth like those of a deep-sea fish. Around his neck hung a fibre cord
to which were attached three silver dollars.

"So that's how the bandit got into the graces of the Fifth Dimension
people," he reflected with a nod. "Gave 'em presents same as we do in
Africa or Borneo to win respect from the natives."

Steckel's voice suddenly drew his attention. The chief stood erect,
gripping his gun tightly.

"Let's go, boys," he said quickly. "The place is clear now and we've
got to get that killer!" He turned to Mortenson. "Which shack did he
enter, Mortenson?"

"The big one at the left," replied the scientist.

"All right," said the chief. "Now let's spread out and surround it."

The violet sun was standing well west of its zenith. It seemed to cast
grim, malignant shadows over the realm of mystery, death and terror.
As they went quickly, but cautiously, toward the town, Mortenson felt
something sinister in the terrible silence of the place. Surely they
had not wiped out its citizens, leaving the phantom bandit there alone
to reckon with fate. He decided that this was the case; that the town
was merely an outpost, meagerly populated by roving bands of Fifth
Dimension warriors. Perhaps, too, it was the headquarters of the
vanishing bandit! He wondered if it was.

Then Steckel caught his eye and motioned to him. Instantly the chief
broke into a run, closing in on the shack. It stood somewhat isolated
by a narrow, crooked street. Mortenson followed him and they gained the
shelter of the wall. Strangely, no sound came from the shack. It seemed
as deserted as the town itself. The other men surrounded it completely,
but Steckel and Mortenson were nearest to its single door.

Cautiously they peered in. It was a place of gloomy shadows, but on the
far side Mortenson caught a glimpse of a shimmering curtain of blue. He
knew what it was instantly. The phantom bandit was transferring himself
back to their own world, leaving them without further resistance.

With a bound the scientist was in the shack. His pistol spat twice into
the blue haze. He turned to Steckel.

"He's going back to our world, Chief!" he cried. "Call your men and
we'll follow him!"

While Steckel bellowed to his men, Mortenson glanced around the shack.
On the hard-packed floor lay piles of silver coin. Empty bags littered
the floor in one corner. Stacks of currency of all denominations were
piled neatly to one side. The phantom bandit had certainly made use of
his ability to strike and vanish. Untold wealth lay on every hand in
the unclean hut, but it would have to remain there for the present. He
withdrew his fascinated eyes from it, as the men filed into the room.

"The crook has just returned to our world, men," Mortenson informed
them crisply. "We're right on his trail! Press the first two panel
buttons together; then press the third. We'll find ourselves within
arm's reach of the killer. Be ready to shoot him on sight! Ready? Here
we go!"

Instantly the shack glowed with the peculiar pale blue luminosity cast
off by the electronic apparatus. As one the men vanished, wondering
where they would next appear. Within five seconds vague shapes began to
dance before them. Then out of the jumbled maze of dancing, tottering
forms they beheld familiar buildings. The dull rumble of traffic
reached their ears above the drone of the apparatus. They emerged from
the Fifth Dimension to find themselves standing directly in the middle
of an intersection. The traffic was at a standstill while the corner
signals changed.

Instantly the crowds scattered. Women screamed and fainted. The traffic
cop went into action, sensing something was about to happen, and held
up the traffic. The bandit's pistol cracked. Mortenson felt a stab of
pain in his right shoulder. He dropped his automatic and sagged to the
street, a black nausea swept over him. He felt himself dropping into a
yawning hole as a machine gun rattled almost in his face. Dimly he saw
Barton standing over him, his machine gun spitting flame and death.

For an instant the nausea left him, but the pain in his shoulder
increased. Dazedly he looked around. A man was sagging limply near
the curb. He was covered with blood and seemed dead on his feet. Then
Mortenson recognized the phantom bandit as the man slumped from the
curb and fell face-forward into the street. The pain in his shoulder
intensified. He fainted.

When he regained consciousness, Chief Steckel and Police Surgeon Wagner
were standing beside his cot in the receiving hospital. After a moment
he spoke:

"Did you get his corpse, Wagner?" he inquired weakly, his brain still
foggy from an anesthetic.

Wagner grinned. "Dead men are sent to the morgue next door, Mortenson,"
he said. "They've kept a slab ready for the Phantom Bandit...."

"But is he making use of it?" Mortenson cut in anxiously.

"Hell, yes!" replied Wagner. "He's been sleeping on it for two hours!
Now be quiet. Sleep if you can. You're not badly hurt, except for a
perforated shoulder-blade."

Mortenson felt relieved for the first time in weeks, and promptly went
to sleep.




                          _The Red Dimension_


A party of Russian engineers surveying a desolate part of Siberia came
one day upon the body of a man. He had evidently been dead for quite
some time and, from the wasted face and limbs, it was concluded he had
died from starvation. He carried in his pocket among other things a
small pouch in which were found some dirty sheafs of paper on which was
scrawled what follows. The thing had little interest for the surveyors
and it was my good fortune in being an invited member of the party that
gave me possession of the papers. Subsequently, I tried to verify the
statements made in the manuscript and failed. Though I hunted through
countless volumes of the records of Russian courts, I ran across no
mention of a Doctor Ivan Korsakoff, or the trial of Arnoldi Kherkoff.
Whether this story was only the raving of the poor wretch who was
found dead, or whether it had a basis in fact far beyond my ability
to discover, I cannot say. I must present the manuscript intact as I
translated it, and leave it to my readers to judge.

How I hope to succeed in getting the following narrative to the world
is a secret which I never will reveal. Should the channels through
which it may reach you be disclosed, then the hands of my jailers would
forever seal the lips of those who aided me in giving to the world the
true facts of the strange case of my life-long friend and benefactor,
Dr. Ivan Korsakoff.

Few people will remember the case. It was given some prominence at the
time that the events occurred; but the details were soon forgotten in
the frenzied excitement of war and the dethroning of the Romanoffs.

In brief, let me say that I was convicted on circumstantial evidence
of having done away with the famous scientist. The evidence I brought
in my favor had no effect and I was forthwith sentenced to life
imprisonment in a pest-hole in Siberia.

For years I lived in the hope that the truth of Dr. Korsakoff's case
might become known. But the passing of years have made me an old
man--although I'm only forty--and have caused me to wish that I had
received a death penalty. For life has been unbearable! Even now, I
lie in a bed of filth praying a humane hand to relieve me of the
burden of life.

Perhaps you will be inclined to doubt me when I say I am still confined
in a filthy prison camp. You probably believe that such confinement for
criminals has been abandoned by every civilized nation in the world.
Let me destroy that belief.

In the wastes of Siberia, forgotten by the world, I am destined to
remain for the rest of my natural life! Siberian prison camps were the
pets of Russian monarchy in the early days. Mine was the most accursed
of all, being visited only on rare occasions to receive prisoners and
scant supplies. If civilization has actually abolished these places of
lingering death, then mine must have been overlooked and forgotten when
the Romanoffs met their fate and the monarchy was overthrown!

But the place still exists. Where, I do not know--nor does any other of
my pestilence-stricken fellow prisoners.

It is not my intention to dwell too long on the horrible details of
confinement here. My main object before I answer the Hand that beckons
is to give the world the fact regarding dear Dr. Korsakoff. But first
let me tell you who I am. My name is Arnoldi Kherkoff, and I, until
my arrest, had hoped to become a great scientist. When I was but four
years old, my parents disappeared strangely.

I was left alone--deserted. It was then that Dr. Korsakoff found me
wandering aimlessly through the snow-clad streets of Moscow, ravenous,
terrified and frost-bitten. He took me at once to his home.

I became his ward and lived with him until the end. He showered me with
everything that wealth could offer.

As I grew older, I in turn helped him in his laboratory and learned
much about optics and other branches of physics and obtained an inkling
of the dimensions beyond ours.

Dr. Korsakoff began to discuss his various experiments with me when I
reached eighteen. I was delighted, because it was a sign that I was
progressing in the sciences. He could converse with me and receive
intelligent replies; and he trusted me not to disclose the nature of
his experiments to others.

One day Dr. Korsakoff approached me and laid an affectionate hand upon
my shoulder. I looked up from a book I was reading. His face was aglow
with excitement and his hand trembled. I surveyed him with alarm, for I
felt that excessive work was beginning to affect him. He glanced at the
book which now lay on my lap.

"I am pleased to see you reading the treatises in that book, Arnoldi,"
he said beaming. "How far have you gone?"

"I've reached the chapters that explain Dr. Valenev's magic goggles,
sir," I replied, regarding him curiously. "The second chapter tells how
he managed to see into an alien dimension. Quite interesting reading
matter, sir, but rather fantastic. It sounds impossible."

His hands became still and apparently nerveless. Then his strong
fingers sank into the flesh covering my shoulder-blade. He seemed tense.

"It is somewhat fantastic, Arnoldi," he said slowly, "but not as
impossible as one might think."

"What, sir?" I asked, interested. "Those magic spectacles not
impossible?"

"Quite so, my son. It is not at all impossible to see into other planes
of life through er-er magic glasses."

"I've never heard of anyone ever doing it except in this book, sir," I
protested. "And the experiences set down here sound more like fiction
than actual fact. Who was this Dr. Valenev, anyhow?"

"Valenev?" Dr. Korsakoff said, brows arching. "Have I neglected to
recount his life to you?"

"Rather I have neglected reading his works, sir," I replied.

"Vladimir Valenev, Arnoldi, was one of the very first Russians to
take up the practice and study of optometry in the early days. He was
actually the father of the profession in Russia. But his startling
discoveries branded him as a fool and he was discredited by the church
and state. He was eventually strung up by the thumbs in old St.
Petersburg for an exhibition to black magic.

"Most of his statements were without concrete foundation, and they led
him presently to his death. Yet for all that, Arnoldi, have you ever
thought it might be possible to create a pair of spectacles through
which one could see into the beyond?"

I stiffened in the chair and the heavy book thumped on the floor. I
surveyed his serious features for a sign that he was jesting.

"I've never thought of such a thing, sir," I said, shaking my head.
"In fact I do think it is quite impossible with any glass or series of
glasses which we have today."

"Naturally, Arnoldi," he said, "it could not be done with our present
chromatic glasses. Yet it _is_ possible to penetrate the beyond--the
planes of existence beyond our own."

"What do you mean, sir?" I asked.

"You already know that we exist in a world that wise scientists realize
is very limited. Atomic vibration, my dear Arnoldi, has created a
varied series of planes of existence, to which the human retina and the
human auditory organs are totally out of accord. That is--everything
vibrating within the perceptions of our own immediate powers of sense
manifests itself in the form of concrete material matter, such as
myself and yourself and objects in this room, perceptible by sound,
sight, smell, touch, and so forth. Everything below or extremely above
our accustomed vibratory limits is to us non existent. You are aware
that there are sounds so high in pitch or frequency that the human
auditory system cannot hear them. Also there are objects that emit
vibrations whose low frequency makes them invisible to the eye."

"You have taught me to understand that, sir," I replied, beginning to
have a dim, awed feeling of what was to come.

Surely he had not evolved a pair of glasses adjusting our senses to
vibration frequencies beyond our natural limit, for he would have
told me of it. But I had learned to know two sides of Dr. Korsakoff.
Although he took great pride in explaining his experiments to me, he
secretly guarded his plans and formulae until he could offer concrete
proof of their feasibility.

"I have tried to teach you much, Arnoldi," he said, "but a complete
knowledge of the science of infinite dimensions is too broad for one
man. Our span of life is too short--the powers of apprehension too
limited. Yet I mean just what I say about the planes of vision and
hearing. I will go even further. I believe there are living material
things on these other planes. It will surprise you, no doubt, to learn
that I have created a medium through which we may see and hear them!"

I stared at him astounded--fascinated. He smiled down at me with
supreme assurance, but without the arrogance that usually accompanies
such statements of scientific power. Yet the conception of such a thing
was too stupendous for me to grasp all at once.

At the moment I could relieve my tension in no way but to laugh. My
mirth seemed to sober him and his features clouded. I felt suddenly ill
at ease under his steady eyes and became more serious.

"I'm sorry, sir," I said, grasping his sleeve. "I couldn't help but
laugh at the conception. But I simply can't grasp the feasibility of
such a thing. It sounds too much like Valenev."

"Arnoldi," he replied impressively, "as we see it the world has been
fairly well explored. Yet, if we were to delve into the hidden worlds
around us, think of the strange objects and beings that might be seen.
Why, the value of the knowledge that could be gleaned from such an
adventure would be beyond calculation!"

My head spun at the thought and I stood erect, eager with anticipation.

"You almost convince me, sir," I said, "that such a thing can be
done--that such worlds do actually exist."

"It _can_ be done, Arnoldi," he replied, smiling again: "And other
worlds _do_ exist within our own world! It is possible that we can
visit at least several of them. Would you like to see them, my son?"

Trembling I nodded assent. Dr. Korsakoff grasped my shaking hand and
wrung it in a firm grip. He placed an arm around me and together we
strode slowly toward the laboratory.

As we entered the work-shop which contained practically every known
instrument of optical science, and many others, including high-speed
lathes, grinding apparatus, measuring devices for facet shaping, and
priceless stores of transparent gem-stones, I had a vague feeling that
the experiment would see the advent of something unknown to man. I cast
a glance at the scientist. His face was stern and serious, although his
eyes glowed with excitement. But, could I have realized then what the
experiment was to lead to!

He motioned me to be seated before a long quartz-topped table. It shone
like myriads of diamonds under the glare of a hanging lamp emitting a
strange purplish light. In the center of the table lay two oddly-shaped
helmets. From what I believed to be the front of them, there struck
out two sets of tapering metallic cylinders. On the sides were
accoutrements which I learned were to fit tightly over the ears. Wires
ran down from the helmets toward the edge of the table and disappeared
beneath it. I surveyed them curiously as Dr. Korsakoff sat down beside
me. He picked them up and held one close to me for observation.

Inside the cylinders I saw what appeared to be crystals with hundreds
of facets which glittered weirdly under the light. The helmets were
oddly designed and of light, pliable metal. The backs of them were not
unlike the ancient Roman helmets in so far as they extended down to the
shoulders where the metal would fit snugly.

The auditory appliance was shaped exactly like the human ear. In the
center were small, bright-metal discs which fitted directly into the
inner lobe for unhampered transmutation of whatever sounds might come
through the magnetic discs from the invisible worlds!

"You see, Arnoldi," the doctor said in explanation, "there are several
crystals in each of the sense-transmitting cylinders. Each one was
ground with seventy-seven outer facets and double internally. I have
cut three different stones and pieced them together in slices to give
them the power to transmit the super-sense vibrations. Between each
of the lenses, yet below the direct line of vision, are very tiny,
high-frequency electrical bulbs. By special transformer I shall lift
the voltage through the crystals from a hundred and ten volts to
twenty-two thousand. The current will pass finally through the helmets
and into the cylinders, creating a transformation of vibrations to our
own perceptive limits. The senses of this world are directed to us by
a ray, commonly known as the infra-red ray. In a small transparent
container behind each of the crystals is an accumulation of _dionium_,
a creation of my own. Beyond that, my dear Arnoldi, I can tell you no
more about these instruments; for I have constructed them in such a way
that caused me to depart from many accepted principles of optics."

He lifted a helmet and fitted it over my head, the cylinders directly
in front of my eyes and the auditory systems snug in my ears. I sat
deathly still and closed my eyes while he made certain adjustments,
expecting momentarily to find myself looking into a strange world of
the beyond. But nothing met my vision. Only darkness--deep darkness.

"Do not be alarmed, Arnoldi." He patted me assuringly. "There is
nothing to fear. Just sit still until I adjust my own helmet to the
Sixth Dimension, and we will be ready for the experiment."

Presently I heard the hum of a high-speed motor somewhere under the
table. It throbbed softly through the auditory apparatus on the
helmets. I shuddered at the terrific vibratory movements of the world
I began to perceive. Suspended between two worlds, these new sounds
grated like steel on my ears. I remembered that such vibrations were
alien to the human organs and settled back to wait.

I was startled by a sudden word from Dr. Korsakoff, for it pulled me
back to our own world.

"I didn't mean to frighten you, Arnoldi," he said, chuckling. "There's
really nothing to be alarmed about. I merely wanted to tell you not
to jump when I start the current flowing through the helmet. It will
sound very weird on your ear-drums. Sit perfectly still and keep your
eyes closed for best results. Open them very slowly, and a new world
will be revealed. Now be perfectly still, my son. I am switching on the
current. You keep your hands on the table. I will control the vibration
from a panel at my side. Have an enjoyable visit into the Sixth
Dimension--the Red World, Arnoldi!"

I sat with closed eyes for a long time and felt drifting off. Then
slowly I opened my eyes and was stunned by an amazing brilliancy of
vari-hued lights. For a moment a pain shot through my eyes--they pained
to the depths. Gradually it wore off. Crystals that ranged in color
from deep, unfathomable red to emerald green danced before me. As
though fighting for some control of a color-world the reds began to
seep through into the blues and the greens.

They suddenly merged into one solid color--the deep, unfathomable
infra-red of the spectrum. The suddenness of the change caused my whole
system to react in a terrific shudder. Remembering the scientist's
words, I clenched my teeth for control over myself. Now I leaned
forward tensely. Objects were slowly shaping themselves from the
masses. It was the Red World! I thought I was gazing on a world of
fire. Everything shimmered in what appeared to be a terrific heat.
Then, as objects assumed definite form, I was able to detect the
outlines of strange, luxurious vegetable growths. Weird trees and ferns
stood on all sides.

The sky overhead was of a red not less deep than the more concrete
materials of Red Dimension. The earth--as it appeared, showed in open
areas like blood-covered sandstone. Across it raced what appeared to be
heat waves dancing on a hot, searing surface. Slowly the scene moved.

Then I beheld a rather large clearing completely surrounded by the
thick, tangled vegetation. I thought I caught a slight movement in a
patch of swaying lush herbage. I watched the spot tensely.

Slowly, very slowly, the blades parted and out of them protruded a
weird snout. The thing was coming into view, slinking forward like a
stalking panther.

Its nose, like the magnified beak of some grotesque earthly insect,
pointed to needle thinness, and was pikelike at the base where it
protruded from a terror-invoking face! The eyes were like the orbs of
an owl, opening and closing with even, rhythmic precision. The creature
seemed to crouch ready to spring upon a victim. I wondered at whom or
what that death-dealing pike of a snout was aimed. And what did the
victim look like? And what were the dimensions of the strange beast or
insect of prey? I was soon to learn.

Suddenly the crouching thing hurled itself forward at terrific speed.
As it raced on long, slender legs toward the center of the clearing,
it appeared in full view to be really an insect. It had three pairs of
well-balanced legs that held the segmented body well above the herbage
when erect.

Two pairs of wings were distinctly discernible; although they were
as transparent as the wings of a dragon fly. They struck outward,
apparently to lend speed to the racing thing as it fairly flew across
the open. Accompanying its motion there was a dull whir that sounded
weirdly in the heavy silence of the red jungle.

I felt as though I were in the jungle, and the thing was coming toward
me. I tried to move, even to scream but it were as if I had turned to
stone. A frenzy of fright filled me.

But then I perceived another creature even more loathsome than the
insect. I tried to close my eyes from it, but a horrible fascination
of fright forced me to look at it. It stood, half-crouched, as though
waiting for the arrival of a deadly enemy to give mortal combat. Its
eyes, protruding from an egg-shaped brow, were concentrated on the
coming insect.

As though suddenly sensing that it was being watched by an unseen
enemy, it turned its head in my direction for a glance at its invisible
audience. The thing's eyes bored into mine for an instant and I
suddenly felt very weak and limp.

Probably eight feet tall it stood. From its vile mouth blood-hued
saliva dribbled. Loathing filled me. It had four skinny legs that
seemed like stilts, jointed well up toward its narrow, straight hips.
The abdomen bulged like the belly of some huge boiling pot, and heaved
tremulously with each enormous intake or outlet of breath that must
have been as foul as the creature itself.

At the end of each leg was a wide, web-shaped foot that covered an
enormous area even for so large a monster. Broad-shouldered, with three
tentacle-like arms attached to each side, the terrifying creature of
the Sixth Dimension stood ready to meet its antagonist.

The arms writhed like so many snakes held together by the heads,
their bodies swinging free. The arms on the right clutched at a long
spearlike object that appeared to be shaped like a small fan at one end.

Sight of the object, which I accepted at once as being a kind of a
weapon, gave me the feeling that this horrible beast was of greater
intelligence than the other. Seeing the weapon brought into play
strengthened my belief that here was really a creature far above the
merely animal, despite its indescribable loathsomeness!

That it was deadly, more deadly than any weapon we on this plane ever
possessed, I was soon to learn!

In comparison with the intended victim who now stood with weapon
upraised, fanshaped end pointing toward it, the monstrous insect seemed
slightly more than half his size.

Yet the insect came on without hesitation, its needle-tipped, natural
weapon, aimed at the towering creature. Should the insect actually
succeed in reaching the more intelligent creature of the Red World, its
pike would doubtlessly run him through from pot-bellied abdomen to the
small of the back.

With a sudden roar that echoed and re-echoed in my ears, the larger
creature crouched down. Then I heard a whining hiss and from the
fanlike end of his spear-shaped weapon shot a sudden beam of strangely
mixed reds and yellows.

The ray seemed to begin in a point and widen abruptly as it left the
weapon, taking in an area that I had no way of calculating.

At any rate, the racing insect seemed to stop in its tracks and wilt to
earth where it lay, trembling violently. Finally it became still.

Then, all at once, the air was filled with a terrible hooting and
screeching that chilled my blood. The victor of the uneven battle
stiffened at the first outbreak of the violent sounds and swung his
protruding eyes around the clearing.

His legs went rigid as though prepared to run, when he beheld a
slowly-advancing army of the monstrous insects ringed around the edge
of the clearing and treading the low lush herbage with slow deliberate
steps as they crept upon him.

As they came on, marching with ominous steadiness, I wondered if any of
the upright creature's fellows were near. Surely he had not wandered
into this remote section of his world alone.

Immovable as I was I could not look about, and I dared not move for
fear that they could see me. But the creature himself seemed prepared
for the onslaught. He assumed his crouching position again and pivoted
around in a circle. Suddenly the insects rushed. The whir of their
movement and the new intermittent hooting, created a battle din in my
ears.

Instantly the peculiar rays shot from his weapon and the ground on
one side of him was covered with the stricken insects, twitching
spasmodically as they died. He spun around in a quarter circle and cut
a clean slice from the ranks of the threatening insects.

As he spun around again, I speculated upon the strange scene. What was
this? Was it the re-enactment of a scene such as had gone past in the
dim days of our own world?

Were these enormous insects the undeveloped life from which had
sprung the intelligence of the Sixth Dimension--the Red World? In
all probability it must have been! For after all there was a strange
similarity between the two forces. The legs and the bodies.

This then, must have been a dreadful battle between the developed and
the undeveloped--like the eternal combat of man against beast--beast
against man, for supremacy.

Would intelligence on this weird plane of life, as on our own,
ultimately predominate?

With panic striking at my reason I watched the battle. The Red World's
"man" swung around again with whip-like motion. His rays cleared a
clean path through the threatening ranks again. Only one quarter of the
circle remained now and the upright creature opened his vile mouth to
voice his cry of victory.

It came in a weird maniacal scream that vibrated and re-echoed over the
Red Domain like the cry of a preying jungle beast! The insect horde
hooted dismal sounds of defeat, but what remained of them came on
nevertheless.

Then again came the defiant answering cry of the upright creature.

He tested the atmosphere with wide, flexible nostrils. Again he voiced
his cry of victory. It was answered by a series of exultant roars
coming from somewhere deep in the jungles.

Then the creature made his fatal mistake. Expanded to conceit by the
victory within his grasp, he lowered his ray weapon and surveyed the
remaining insects with contempt. Whether the presence of his fellows,
probably not far in the growth, had bred within him a feeling of
security, I do not know. But hardly had he lowered his instrument of
destruction than the horde of insects closed in on him with astonishing
rapidity.

Bewildered at the suddenness and calmness of the rush, the creature
roared in a different note, appealing and terror-stricken, and
struggled vainly to bring his weapon into play.

It was useless at such close quarters and he cast it aside to grasp
six hooting insects in the steel-like grasp of his writhing arms. He
crushed them on the instant and hurled them aside. I heard him gasp,
when the needle-pointed pikes of the insects began to puncture him.

I caught sight of ghastly mysterious organs protruding from his bulging
belly as an insect shook itself loose. He crashed to the ground.
Instantly the insects changed the sound of their voices and the ring of
high-pitched hootings drowned his cries of death.

At once they set upon the fallen creature. They gouged and tore into
his vitals. He managed to keep up a dismal howl even after his vitals
had been ripped from his belly. I saw a dozen insects line themselves
along his side.

They plunged the pikelike snouts into him and sucked at the thick red
substance that was his blood. One lowly creature took hold of the thick
skin near the victim's breast. With a jerk it ripped a long streamer of
flesh from the body and gobbled it with smacking relish!

That scene was altogether too much for me to stand. I strained and
strained to tear myself away from the stone-like immovability that
gripped me. Finally I managed to emit a terrible scream and seemed to
faint away.

When I opened my eyes once again, I was still in the Red World. Out
of the jungle raced a wedge formation of upright creatures, like the
slain, with ray instruments, pointed at the devouring insects. With
incredible speed they came into the clearing. Instantly the space was
aglow with the red and yellow beams.

The insects clambering over the torn and mangled body of the fallen
creature lined themselves to meet this new enemy. With an abrupt rush,
as though by some signal they advanced toward the oncoming wedge. But
before they could cover any amount of space the fatal rays wilted them
in their tracks.

Harsh roars echoed through the growths. The features of the upright
creatures were even more hideous with rage and they set upon the
dying insects to gorge! One insect just to my right seemed to have
been untouched. It rose suddenly and attempted to escape. An upright
creature detached himself from the gorging mass and gave chase,
bringing into play as he ran, his death-dealing ray instrument.

On they came, directly toward me. As they neared I could almost feel
the terrific heat of the creatures' bodies. Ghastly features stood in
front of my eyes. It seemed to me that hardly a foot of space separated
us! I screamed insanely again. Then I saw the upright being lift his
ray-gun. The reddish yellow ray seemed to bite into the depths of my
eyes. I heard as from far away a deep-throated groan.

I seemed to be flying through space and suddenly, with a jerk, I found
myself seated in the chair of the laboratory. I tore frenziedly at the
helmet on my head and managed to take it off. Then a dizziness overcame
me and a black void....

At any rate, I lay stunned and senseless for what seemed hours. When I
finally regained consciousness I opened my eyes to see Dr. Korsakoff
sitting stiff in his chair, his helmet still intact. I reached out and
grasped his shoulder and shook him. He was cold, his body rigid.

Terrified, I leaped from my chair and swung him around. Oh, God, that I
may never witness such a sight again!

The front portion of his helmet seemed to have been cloven with an axe!
The vision cylinders hung in shreds and clotted with dried, cracking
blood! The lower half of his face seemed to have been beaten into a
mass with a blunt instrument!

I screamed like one insane as I removed his helmet. Across his eyes
and frontal arch, his skull was cloven in twain! The rays of the Red
World had cut a deep gash through which had drifted the life of my dear
friend and benefactor.

How I managed to escape a similar fate I do not know unless from my mad
movements to remove the helmet.

What must have happened was that our devices, not insulated against
things of which Dr. Korsakoff could have known little or nothing, had
acted like copper wires in the distribution of electrical energy. The
Sixth Dimension beam, then, must have been carried along with our own
to strike at us in our own distant plane.

Why tell of what followed--my apprehension for the crime and my
conviction?

Now, dear world of which I am but a miserable outcast, praying for
death to relieve me of my suffering, let me close this chapter in my
book of life. If any story succeeds in reaching the world, the world
itself will know and believe that I, Arnoldi Kherkoff, did not murder
my beloved benefactor, Dr. Ivan Korsakoff, as the courts of Russia
believed.

His was a murderer far beyond powers of man to apprehend.

I suffer for the deed of a being in the Red Dimension--but not for
long! I have little fear of the penalties exacted against prisoners of
the camp for communicating with the outside world! When they learn of
it, life will have already flown.

       *       *       *       *       *

                              THE AUTHOR

After an exciting career as a newspaper man, Ed Earl Repp began writing
science fiction back in 1929. When his story "The Radium Pool" appeared
in _Science Wonder Stories_, the following was written by the editor:
"Perhaps it is a bit unethical for the editor to wax enthusiastic about
any story, but we certainly could not help mentally applauding when
we read _The Radium Pool_." Since that time Mr. Repp has had several
hundred fantasy stories published in all the science fiction magazines,
including _Amazing Stories_, _Planet Stories_, etc., and still receives
fan mail asking for a sequel to _The Radium Pool_ and others of his
works.

In addition to his fantasy writing Mr. Repp has written and had
published over 1500 fiction stories of all types in all the leading
pulp magazines. He has authored eighteen books published in the United
States, England, Australia, etc., and some of his novels have been
reprinted in paper-backed editions. Mr. Repp has over eighty-five
screenplay credits written for Warner Brothers, Columbia, Eagle Lion
and others and is at present employed in his writing capacity by R. K.
O. Studios in Hollywood.

Ed Earl Repp is hailed as one of the leading magazine fiction writers
in the country, specializing in action stories of western fiction
and kindred subjects. One of the stories in this volume, _The Red
Dimension_, has stood the test of time well enough to be nominated for
SCIENTIFICTION'S HALL OF FAME and was reprinted as such in the summer
1945 issue of Startling Stories.

Mr. Repp has been a member of numerous scientific expeditions into
various parts of the country, and is widely traveled. His leading
hobbies include archaeology, geology and paleontology. He is a resident
of Sherman Oaks, California.


                        _Books by Ed Earl Repp_

                            EMPTY HOLSTERS
                            SUICIDE RANCH
                            MUSTANG MESA
                            HELL ON THE PECOS
                            GUN HAWK
                            HELL IN THE SADDLE
                            DON HURRICANE
                            CANYON OF THE FORGOTTEN
                            HELL'S HACIENDA
                            RIO GRANDE