Adventure Magazine Cover — page 141: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

sy Se 4 PRESS He was out again next moment and was standing beside the cab. “T’m going to free your feet,” he told Blondie, “but I’'d advise you not to make the mistake of trying to get away.” The strangler imagined that the chauffeur must have been paid in advance or that some regular understanding in regard to pay existed between him and this eccentric persen who was now leading him, Blondie Doyle, up a flight of stone stairs, for he heard the regular, cicada-like hum of the receding machine. Yor the first time in his life there came into this strong man’s consclousness a vague, troubling, haif-realized sensation of fear—he was alone with a person whose like he had never encountered; he knew the terrible strength of that hand which rested lightly on his arm, but there was a subtle impression of moral power, of dominant will-force, in the other’s mere silent pres- ence that cowed Blondie and forced him to stumble along sullenly and without a defi- nite thought of flight or resistance. The door of the stone house opened and closed. The air was wonderfully cool and sweet within—the heated, dusty city seemed to have receded into an infinitely distant past, so that the strangler might have been on one of the planets. Something clicked and he stood blinking in the yellow light of an overhead lamp. [He saw that he was standing in a broad reception-hall, and then he was pushed forward and through an open doorway. The lights here were turned on, and Blondie uttered an exclamation—some- thing white, with great, dark holes for eyes and with its wonderfully perfect teeth gleaming at him in a sardonic grin, faced him from under a glass cover, nearly level with his face. The man beside Blondie smiled. “They’re harmless when they get to that stage, my friend,” he commented. ‘‘Have a chair— I’ll remove your bonds after we’ve reached an agreement.” The strangler’s glance took in other de- tails of the room; bookcases and reading- tables of Circassian walnut; a microscope and some instruments on a tabie of white enamel and plate glass; some curious, crooked-bladed swords on the wali—and then his eyes were drawn to his captor’s face. The young man of the Gladstone bag sat opposite him, smiling almost benevo- lently. 705 “Til wager it’s some time since you had as interesting an evening as this,” he said genially. ‘Not that ’'m running down your ordinary devices for passing the time —if you’re the man I’m looking for, you have not lived the life of a church warden hitherto. But I think this has been a little unusual. Now let me ask you a question. Do you want to carn some money—more money than you probably ever saw be- fore?” Blondie’s eyes narrowed. He was begin- ning to grow accustomed to the unusual; and the mention of money and of a chance of acquiring some of it thoroughly stilled and poised his thoughts. He stared in- tently at the speaker. “TH tell you what I want you to do,” the latter continued, ‘‘and you can decide whether you care to take the risks. Ina small house standing by itself in the north part oi town, at an address which I will fur- nish you later, an old gentleman lives alone, except for a cat. The old man and I worked together once at the project of making artificial diamonds of commercial size. We didn’t succeed, but one of the by- products of our work was a discovery that was worth infinitely more to the world, and, perhaps, to us. We maderubber syntheti- cally; pure, perfect rubber, with all the qual- ilies of the tree-grown product.” tie paused for a moment to watch the eficct of this statement on the strangler, but Biondie was far from being impressed. He stared back indifferently and, with an amused shrug of disgust, the young man continued: ‘Rubber is worth more from the view- point of political economy than diamonds, and I imagine this process is worth more in money than one for turning out perfect stones would be. However, that’s neither here nor there. My part of the work was largely that of a superintendent in a factory. I had the general theory, and I had worked out many o: the details. I hired Professor Hueber to help me with the myriads of for- mule that must be tested and retained or rejected. It was trying, nerve-wrecking work, and at times the old man showed signs of giving out. A week’s rest usually put him on his feet again, however. ‘““Hle worked at this for two years, and then, late one night, he sent a messenger to my house to tell me that he had finished— that quite by accident he had found the iin, COmmiclboooks (C@