The Argosy, Christmas 1912 — page 170: what you’re looking at

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

156 hoping that some of the muglug army will get here before the guards, and - that—” Kennedy paused. A thump on the roof announced the alighting of an air- ship. A moment more and the voice of Horton came piercingly from a dis- tance: “The guards are here, Kennedy! The house is surrounded and a de- tachment has just landed on the roof- staging and captured Plunkett! ”’ Just then Horton showed his wild face in the door. “ Better surrender, Lumley,” he ad- vised; “‘there’s really nothing else to be done.” _ “Pll not surrender hinN ” flung back Kennedy. ‘Come on, Lumley; don't stop to put on your shoes.”’ With a shoe in each hand Lumley bolted after his host. Out in the hail they could hear the scuffling footsteps of the guards, racing through the rooms in a furious search. “This way,” whispered Kennedy, and made off along the passage. An exultant cry came from some- where in the rear. “They see you!” exclaimed Horton. “You are mad, Kennedy, to try to—” The words were lost. Kennedy had rushed through a door, jerked Lumley after him, and then slammed the door and shot a bolt. “An idea!” murmured Kennedy. “T can save you, Lumley, but we shall have to be quick.” “Save me?” echoed Lumley, in a panic. “ How?” “This is the pneumatic tube-room. From this point we send and receive packages from all over the city. Here!” He stepped to one side of the cham- ber. In the wall, some two feet from the floor, was a round opening closed with a metal disk. Above the disk was a transmit-knob. Just below the disk was a trestlework topped with a bed of small rollers. Upon the rollers lay a cylinder, six feet long by eighteen inches in diameter. THE ARGOSY. The cylinder was pointed at each end and halved and hinged lengthwise so that the upper half opened like a lid. The long lid was thrown back and Lumley could see that the cylinder was empty. “Get into it!” instructed Kennedy sharply. “ Get—into it?” repeated Lumley, recoiling. “Yes! It’s your only chance. Be quick!” ~ Lumley climbed to the staging and squeezed himself into the cylinder. There was plenty of room up and down but a tight fit across. Kennedy, mean- while, was striking the transmit-knob. “Well?” came a voice. “A hundred and thirty pounds of rain-plugs for the weather bureau,” called Kennedy. “ Rush order.” “The way is clear. Load the rain- plugs into the tube.” Kennedy pulled a lever. The cir- cular disk vanished and revealed the maw of a black opening. With a smothered exclamation Lumley sat up in the steel shell. “What are you going to do with me, Kennedy?” he asked, tremulously. “ Send you to your friends by pneu- matic tube,’ was the answer. “ But I’d rather not go to my friends in that way. I—” A rain of blows dashed against the closed door and a clamor of voices de- manded the surrender of Lumley. With a hollow groan Lumley fell back- ward and wedged himself into the cylinder. Swiftly Kennedy closed the cover and clamped it down. An awful feel- ing of helplessness and peril took pos- session of Everson Lumley. What if the cylinder should get blocked in the tube? How long would the air inside the steel shell support life? Suppose that— But he gave over his direful sup- positions abruptly. The rollers were turning beneath the cylinder and he felt that he was moving forward into the hole in the wall. A roar of air in CoOMmicbook CO