The Argosy, Volume XLIV — page 196: what you’re looking at

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

192 You see, I place this tin on the bars, and close the doors and lock them, so. All I have to do now is to press this concealed button, and set the powerful forces inside at work. In five minutes I will open the doors again, and you will see—nothing.” | “Press the button then, in God’s name, and get it over!” Allan cried, tortured beyond endurance by the other's deliberation. “Ta-ta-ta,’ Dr. Armitage answered, shaking his head. “ The unscientific mind again.” He raised his hand to the wall, and Allan turned away his face. There was a blinding flash of flame, and a roar like a hundred pieces of artillery fired simultaneously. As in a dream, Allan felt the chair m which he sat caught up by an invisible hand and hurled violently against the oppo- site wall. Then darkness came over him and he knew no more. * * * * Three weeks later he opened his eyes to find himself lying in a hospital cot, a mass of bandages, and his friend At- kinson seated beside him. “What has happened?” he asked faintly. “ Steady, old man,” replied the other soothingly. “ You mustn’t talk.” “Tell me,” Allan insisted. “I must know. Dr. Armitage——? Was he killed? ” Atkinson shook his head. “No,” he said. “ They dug you both out of the ruins almost at the same time, just before the fire reached you. He was, if anything, more badlv hurt than you, but he made a marvelous recovery. ‘The doctors say they never saw anything like it. His vitality was THE ARGOSY. extraordinary. He left the hospital a week ago.” ‘And he was not arrested? ” “ Arrested? No, why should he be? He explained that he was showing you an experiment when the compound un- fortunately exploded.” Weak as he was, Allan ground his teeth with rage. “And the chair—the horrible death trap in which I was fastened. Did that awaken no suspicion? ” “You were fastened in no chair,” the other replied. “ You have been having sick dreams, old man. There was a rafter across your chest pinning you down, but that was all.” Allan groaned. “The thing must have been torn apart by the explosion,” he said, “ but they must find it. It will hang that villain. Tell them to search the ruins.” “ Hush,” said Atkinson. “ You must not excite yourself. The explosion set fire to the débris of the cottage, and everything was consumed.” “Then tell them to arrest Dr. Armi- tage at once,” the sick man cried ex- citedly. “ He is a ghoul—a vampire! He carries the lives of nine men in his pocket, and God knows how many more he has killed. “He murdered Allerlee. He con- fessed it to me. There are pictures of the dead men in a little safe in the mantel-shelf. I know where they are; let me get up. I will get up—do you hear ? ” He made a desperate effort to rise, and fell back unconscious. When Allan had recovered suffi- ciently to be able to tell a coherent story, a diligent search for the doctor was instituted, but in vain. Dr. Armitage had vanished utterly. BETWEEN. LIFE means to us a thousand different things ; The highest meaning is the one we miss ; And yet a warning voice unceasing sings, “ Life is eternity’s parenthesis.” Grace H. Boutelle. ECOMRiNIEloOO@ SS) (GO) awa