Air Wonder Stories, July 1929 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

THE ARK OF THE COVENANT He wrung my hand and made a bee line for his laboratory, with the coin and locket held out in front of him in his cupped palms. I chuckled to think I had made Dan Lamont so interested, for I knew that the chemistry side of any investigations I wanted to make was in the most skilful hands in New York. I had enlisted the services of a power- ful ally. An Official Whispers pe next thing I had to do was to get the Sieve back to Long Island and see how Milliken was getting on with the Merlin, but on the way down to. the jetty I stopped to took in at the Post Office. There was a jam about the place, and the counters were crowded up. I wrote the name of the bank on one of my cards under my own name—which is the same as my father’s—and handed the pasteboard to a messenger. “Are you Mr, Boon?” he asked suspiciously. “T am,” said I. “Who is it you want to see?” he demanded. “Anybody in authority who has a minute to spar me “Will Mr. Glover do?” “Fine,” I said. “Lead the way to Mr. Glover.” He conducted me along a passage into a nest of private rooms, and tapped at a door. “Wait here,’ he said, and went into the room. He was out in a second. “Mr. Glover will see you.” A bald-headed man at a desk in the centre of the room looked up with an ingratiating smile as I came in, but when he saw me his grin froze, and he Tose in angry surprise from his chair. “What trick is this?” he demanded. “You are not Mr. Boon, sir! You are an impostor, sir—an im- postor! Let me inform you that I am familiar with the appearance of the president of the National Metallurgical! I am an acquaintance of Mr. Boon!” “That’s fine,” said I. ‘Allow me to introduce to you his son, James Vandersluyt Boon, whose card you have in your hand.” He looked at me suspiciously for a moment, then smoothed down, and held out his hand. I wondered at the change in his reception of me, but next moment it was explained. “Of course, of course!” he said heartily. “I might have known!” He waved a hand at the flying-kit I still was wearing. “You are the young conqueror of the air, our modern Icarus—though I trust not doomed to the same fate, I trust not,” said the pompous ass. ‘Well, Mr. Boon, and what can I do for your” I told him pretty snappily that I wanted a line on what had happened in the Post Office that morning, explaining that I was investigating every- thing that seemed to have any connection with the robbery of the banks. Mr, Glover looked hurriedly around the room, as if he were afraid somebody might be lurking in a corner. He dropped his voice mysteriously. “This is, of course, strictly entre nous,” he said. “IT can say nothing officially, you understand? It must go no further?” I said I quite understand—and found myself whispering like a fool when I said it. 15 “Very well, then,” said he. “I will tell you, Mr. Boon. A very strange thing happened here this morning. Five little packages, extremely heavy for their size, were dropped into the local collection box during the night or in the early hours. The box was cleared at seven, Mr. Boon, and it was ‘then that they were found. They would have escaped notice, I do not doubt, had it not been for the peculiar circumstance that they were all with- out the requisite stamps—unstamped, Mr. Boon! The sorter put them aside, and when he came to deal with them later, he found that there were also five bulky envelopes, similarly without stamps. Now, here is a curious fact, Mr. Boon”—with an- other apprehensive glance about the room—“both the envelopes and the packages were all addressed to important hospitals and research institutions in the city, an envelope and a package to each of five institutions !” He leaned back to see the effect on me of this thrilling revelation. “You amaze me, Mr. Glover,” said I. “Certainly a peculiar and suspicious circumstance.” “Wasn't it!” Mr. Glover agreed. “The packages were all alike, and appeared to consist of heavy little boxes wrapped in corrugated cardboard and brown paper. Well, now. Naturally the Office was agog with the news of the dastardly outrages mm Wall Street, and the sorter somehow connected these envelopes and packages with the crime, Mr. Boon. He summoned his immediate chief, and the result of their colloquy was that packages and en- velopes were held over for investigation by our police department.” “Have they been opened yet?” I asked. Mr. Glover looked pained at my lack of finesse. “Not officially, Mr. Boon—not officially. Special authority is needed for that.”” He dropped his voice to a whisper more confidential than ever. “But I can tell you—quite unofficially, of course—that the square packages contained black boxes of wood, inside which were what at first sight appeared to be lumps of solid lead. Closer investigation, how- ever, proved these last to be lead cases with ex- tremely thick sides.” “What was in the lead cases?” Mr. Glover shook his head. “T cannot say,” he said ponderously, “But as I atm inclined to think some outrage is contemplated, I should say—explosives! But, as you may know there is a special department of the Post Office primarily concerned with the handling of such con- tingencies, and at the moment, Mr. Boon, an in- vestigation is going forward—behind closed doors!” “You don’t know what was in the envelopes?” Once more Mr. Glover was pained at my blunt- ness. “No. That I cannot tell,” he said severely. “You now have all the information I can lay at your dis- posal, Mr. Boon—and that, sir, I beg you to re- member, is quite unofficial—and sacrosanct. It must not be bruited abroad !” ! I admit that I saw little ground for connecting this mystery with the robberies round Wall Street, nor any need for secrecy. I was inclined to think Mr. Glover’s love for the mysterious had led him into a fantastic interpretation of some silly joke on the institutions, but I thanked him with every appearance of being impressed, and took a speedy comnliclooolks.com