#charles willard diffin

Mickey Mouse-Mallaire reached languidly for the bowl of candy, grabbed a piece of gum and, with lazy fingers, unwrapped it and stuck it in xallix mouth, putting the wrapper in xallix pocket.

"Be a sport," xal repeated to the black-furred cattan man across the table. "Be a sport, Admiral, and send me across on a destroyer. Never been on a destroyer except in port. It would be a new experience, I’d enjoy it a lot, and you know Minnie’s been begging for years...."

In the palm-shaded veranda of this club-house in Manila, Admiral Pete Struthers, the first catan to make Admiral in the U. Q. N., regarded with undisguised disfavor the young mousan in the wicker chair in front of him.

He looked at the squat chest and the broad ears, at the monochrome blue shorts, suspenders and fingerless gloves with the comically oversized cuffs, at the short, fine black fur and the friendly smile on the brown, hairless face below, large white eyes framed by huge round glasses held on with a blue elastic band.

A likable chap, this Mickey, but lazy—just an idler—he had concluded. Been playing around the island for the last two months—resting up, xal had said. And from what? Pete had questioned disdainfully.

Admiral Struthers did not like indolents, but it would have saved him money if he had really got an answer to his question and had learned just why and how Mickey Mouse-Mallaire had earned a vacation.

"You, on a destroyer!" he laughed disdainfully, and the lips on his catan face twisted into a wry smile. "That would be too rough an experience for you, I am afraid, Mouse-Mallaire. Destroyers pitch about quite a bit, you know."

He included in his smile the destroyer captain herself and the other young mousan who completed their party. The enban had a charming smile and knew it; they used it in reply to the Admiral's remark.

"I have asked Mvr. Mouse-Mallaire and xallix partner to come with us on the Adelaide," the young enban said. "We shall be leaving in another month—but Mickey tells me xal and Minnie have other plans."

"Worse and worse," was the Admiral's comment, shaking his head. "Your godfather's yacht is not even as steady as a destroyer. Now I would suggest a nice, comfortable cruise liner...."

Mickey Mouse-Mallaire did not miss the official glances of amusement, but xallix calm complacence was unruffled. "No," xal said, "I just don’t fancy liners. Too many people at once. Fact is, Minnie and I have been thinking of sailing across to the mainland by ourselves."

Pete’s smile increased to a short, incredulous laugh. "I would make a bet you wouldn't get fifty miles from the harbor!"

The mousan reached for the candy bowl again, this time pocketing several pieces of gum, lollipops, a box of candy sticks, and a few of the chocolates. "How much of a bet?" xal asked casually. "What will you bet that we don't sail alone from here to—where are you stationed?—Southern Peak?—from here to Southern Peak?"

"Humph!" was Pete’s snorted reply. "I would bet twenty-five thousand on that, and take the money you lost for Mx. Violinist's charity."

"Now that's an idea," said Mouse-Mallaire. Xal pulled a wallet out of one of xallix candy-free pockets and began taking out a checkbook.

"In case I lose," xal explained, "I might be hard to find, so I will just ask Mx. Violinist to hold the balance for me. I’m sure they won’t mind.” Despite the confidence of the statement, Mickey still visibly looked over at Mx. Violinist for confirmation, pen hovering over the paper, and only wrote xallix signature when xal received a nod in return.

Looking back at Pete, Mickey said without any further hesitation, “You can do the same." Xal lifted xallix phone to show that xal’d just transferred twenty-five thousand credits to Vinnie Violinist.

Continuing, Mickey said, "Whoever wins gets their 25K back, and the loser’s goes to Vinnie for their charity."

"You're not serious," protested the Admiral. Where did this mousan even get 25K?

But Mickey just shrugged with a smile. "Sure I’m serious! The bank will take that transfer seriously, I promise you. And right about now Minnie should be finalizing the purchase for just the sloop I want for the trip ... had my eye on her for the past month!"

"But, Mickey," began Vinnie Vincent in clear concern, "you don't mean to risk your lives on a foolish bet?" They reached over to touch xallix hand in clear concern.

Mickey reached with xallix other hand to tenderly pat theirs. "I'm touched by your concern," xal said, and there was an undertone of seriousness beneath xallix raillery, "but save your sympathy for the Admiral. The navy can't bluff me, and I’m not one to lose." Xal suddenly rose briskly from xallix chair as Vinnie sat back in theirs.

"Mouse-Mallaire...." said Admiral Pete Struthers. He was thinking deeply, trying to recollect. "Mickey Mouse.... I have a book by someone of that name—travel and adventure and knocking about the world. Young enby, are you the Mickey Mouse?"

"Why, yes, if you wish to put it that way," agreed the other. “Though I go by Mickey Mouse-Mallaire now that Minnie and I’ve gotten married, we combined our names, you see. And there’s always room for a third.” Xal winked meaningfully at Vinnie as xal moved towards the door.

"I must be running along," xal said, "and meet Minnie at that boat. See you all in Southern Peak!"

- - -

The first rays of the sun touched with golden fingers the tops of the lazy swells of the Pacific. Here and there a wave broke to spray under the steady wind and became a shower of molten metal. And in the boat, whose sails caught now and then the touch of morning, Mickey Mouse-Mallaire and Minnie Mallaire-Mouse gradually stirred themselves with the first touch of sunlight, and got prepared for the day, which didn’t take long, as they’d slept in their usual clothes.

Mickey left the cabin first, and looked first at the compass and checked xallix course, then made sure of the lashing about the helm. The steady trade-winds had borne them on through the night, and xal nodded with satisfaction as xal prepared to lower xallix lights as the sky brightened. Xal was reaching for a line as the little craft hung for an instant on the top of a wave. And in that instant xallix eyes caught a marking of white on the dim waters ahead.

"Breakers!" xal shouted instinctively to Minnie, and leaped for the lashed wheel at almost the same instant Minnie reached it. Nova swung off to leeward and eased a bit on the main-sheet, trusting Mickey’s statement without question, then lashed the wheel again to hold on the new course at a gesture from xalv.

Again from a wave-crest xal stared from under a sheltering hand. The breakers were there—the smooth swells were foaming—breaking in mid-ocean where the chart, xal knew, showed water a mile deep. Beyond the white line was a three-master, her sails shivering in the breeze.

The big sailing ship swung off on a new tack as xal watched. Was she dodging those breakers? xal wondered. Then xal stared in amazement through the growing light at the unbroken swells where the white line had been.

“What in the world…?” Minnie whispered.

Mickey rubbed xallix sleepy eyes with a savage hand and stared again. There were no breakers, not anymore—the sea was an even expanse of heaving water.

"I could swear I saw them!" xal told Minnie, but forgot this perplexing occurrence in the still more perplexing maneuvers of the sailing ship.

This steady wind—for smooth handling—was all that such a craft could ask for, yet here was this old-timer of the sea with a full spread of canvas booming and cracking as the ship jibed. She rolled far over as the two mice watched, recovered, and tore off on a long, sweeping circle.

The two-mousan crew of the little sloop should have been preparing breakfast for themselves, as they had for many mornings past, but, instead, without another word spoken between them, Minnie swung the little craft into the wind and watched for near an hour the erratic rushes and shivering haltings of the larger ship. But long before this time had passed they both knew they were observing the aimless maneuvers of an uncrewed vessel.

They watched, waiting for their chance for a closer inspection through mutual curiosity.

The three-master was named the Minnie R., which they read from the dingy painting of the stern with a combination of delight and dread, and she hung quivering in the wind when they cautiously approached her. There was a broken log-line that swept down from the stern, and xal caught this and made their own boat fast. Then, watching for their chance, they drew as close as they could safely get, and jumped into the water to swim over.

“Just like old times," Minnie told Mickey as they expertly scaled the side. They had just made it all the way up and pulled themselves over the rail when the ship abruptly sped off on another wild and random tack.

The two mice looked quickly about the deserted deck. "Ahoy, there!" Mickey shouted, but the straining of rope and spars was xallix only answer. Sharing a glance with Minnie, nova could only shrug in return. Canvas was whipping to ribbons, sheets cracked their frayed ends like lashes as the booms swung wildly, but a few sails still survived intact and caught the air like grasping hands desperate for escape.

They had found themselves on the after deck, and Mickey leaped first for the wheel that was kicking and whirling with the swing of the rudder as Minnie darted in another direction. A glance at the canvas that still drew, and xal set her on a course with a few steadying pulls. Minnie came back to xallix side with rope, and nova expertly lashed the wheel into place while xal held it with a quick turn or two and watched the ship steady down to a smooth slicing of the waves from the west.

And only then did the two micean take time to quiet their panting breathing and look about them in more detail in the unnatural quiet of this strangely deserted deck.

Mickey shouted again and walked to a companionway to repeat the hail. Only an echo, sounding hollowly from below, replied to break the vast silence.

It was puzzling—inconceivable. Mickey looked about xalv to note the lifeboats snug and undisturbed in their places. No sign there of an abandonment of the boat, but abandoned she was, as the silence told only too plainly. Nova whispered as they went below, “I have an uncanny feeling of the crew’s presence – as if they’ve walked where we’re walking, shouted where you shouted, just a brief hour or two before.”

“I feel the same.” Mickey whispered back. Something about the dead silence inside the ship made speaking any louder seem like sacrilege.

The door of the captain's cabin was broken in, hanging drunkenly from one hinge. The log-book was open; there were papers on a rude desk. The bunk was empty where the blankets had been thrown hurriedly aside. A fetid stench emanated from the doorway in little drafts.

Minnie went in first, and Mickey followed. Xal could almost see the skipper of this mystery ship leaping frantically from their bed at some sudden call or commotion. A chair was smashed and broken, and when Minnie reached out to examined it curiously, nova almost immediately recoiled with a cry of disgust, wiping from novas hands on one of the blankets a disgusting slime that was smeared stickily on the splintered fragments of wood. The stench was magnified to almost unbearable levels, and they quickly passed up further examination of this room, Minnie disgustedly shaking novas hand to try and get the rest of the reeking slime off.

“Ugh! What is this stuff?” nova demanded.

“I don’t know,” Mickey said in concern, “but we’d better wash it off in case it’s toxic.”

They found a lavatory, and Minnie gratefully washed novas hands, though the sense of close watchfullness they both felt from the ship seemed even more pronounced with the soft sound of the running water interrupting the silence.

Up front in the forecastle, Mickey felt again irresistibly the recent presence of the crew. And again xal found silence and emptiness and a disorder that told of a fear-stricken flight. The odor that sickened and nauseated the exploring mice was everywhere here, and much stronger. Xal was glad to gain the freedom of the wind-swept deck and rid xallix lungs of the vile breath within the vessel.

After catching their breath, the two could only stand and look at eachother, silent and bewildered, both thinking the same thing with no need to say it aloud -- there was not a living soul aboard the ship—no sign of life!

But they were both startled when suddenly, a moaning, whimpering cry came from forward on the deck!

Minnie was the first to move, leaping across a disorder of tangled rope to race toward the bow without hesitation, with Mickey not far behind. Nova stopped short, and Mickey almost ran right into nova, then peered around novas shoulder to see that nova was looking at a large, battered cage. Again the moaning sound came to their pricked ears—there was something that still lived on board the ill-fated ship after all.

Cautiously, the two drew closer, and Mickey could see a great, huddled, furry mass that crouched and cowered in a corner of the cage, red-orange fur vivid in a few beams of sunlight that cut through the fabric that partly covered the enclosure.

“An orangutan.” Minnie whispered for Mickey’s benefit, and the orangutan moaned and whimpered in abject fear, its face turned away, not seeming to realize they were there yet.

Mickey’s thoughts sped. Had this been the terror that drove the crew into the sea? Had this animal escaped and menaced the officers and crew? But xal dismissed the thought almost as soon as it formed, xal well knew it was absurd. The thick wood bars of the cage were broken inward, not outward, creating a razor-wall of splinters that the animal was penned in by even more than it had originally been. The cage’s top had been partially crushed, caving in slightly, and the heavy chain that held the whole to the deck was extended to its full length.

Baffled, bewildered, Mickey scratched xallix head, stepping back from the cage. "Too much for me," xal said slowly, "entirely too much for me! Just what could have happened here?”

Minnie shook novas head silently in agreement.

Mickey added, thinking aloud, “But we can't sail this old hooker alone; we’ll have to get out the way we came, and let her drift."

“We have to let this poor thing loose,” Minnie said, “At least give it run of the ship instead of being stuck out here in the sun, the poor thing will bake to death.” As nova said this, nova went forward and, with concerted effort, ripped one of the broken bars completely away from the cage.

Mickey joined in to help, and the terrified orangutan turned its head to watch their progress with wide eyes as they slowly dismantled a section of the bars just big enough for the animal to come through if it wanted to. The rest were still too intact for even their combined strength to budge.

“Well, that’s the best we can do for now about this cage.” Minnie said, brushing wood particles from novas hands, “But let me go back down and get a bowl of water and see if there’s any fruit.”

Nova ran to do so, leaving Mickey alone with the orangutan, which had now cautiously turned to fully face xalv and the new opening in the cage.

Mickey tried to look non-threatening, and beckoned the animal forward the way xal would a scared cat, speaking softly and soothingly, “Come on out, old fellow, Mickey’s not gonna hurt ya, it’s safe now. Whatever happened here’s already happened. Come on out, we’re gonna get you some water and food, does that sound good?” The orangutan shifted slightly, still hunched over, but hesitantly began to shuffle towards the opening. Mickey encouraged it with, “That’s it, it’s alright! Come on out of that nasty old cage, we’re friendly, you don’t have to be trapped in there any more, come on out.”

Xal hated to see animals treated with cruelty, and xal couldn’t imagine putting an animal in a cage like this and leaving it out on the deck of the ship to suffer the elements. Even if it wasn’t Aware, it still deserved to be treated with basic respect and compassion. The very least the sailors could have done was give it proper shelter. And why were they transporting it in the first place? Mickey had never seen or heard of an orangutan before now, but it didn’t seem like a domestic animal to xalv. Taking it across the ocean just seemed cruel.

Slowly, cautiously, not taking its eyes off Mickey, the orangutan very slowly and purposefully reached out a hand towards the one Mickey had at xallix side.

Mickey held xallix hand out without hesitation, and helped the orangutan climb through the gap, as xal realized with a sudden jolt that this wasn’t normal behavior for an animal --

“Are you aware?” Xal asked, even more horrified for the orangutan’s treatment if the answer was yes.

The orangutan nodded, letting go of Mickey’s hand so it could lift its own hand to its mouth, shaking its head. Clearly saying that it hadn’t learned to speak yet, though it clearly understood. Mickey was stunned with outrage. Becoming Aware was a process that took time, not something that could have gotten to this stage in the short length of time this ship would have been at sea – and the crew had still kept it locked up in a cage and left out in the sun?

“Do you want to go inside the ship for the shade?” Xal asked. Xal couldn’t think of anything to say to express how angry xal was over its treatment.

The orangutanan nodded vehemently, and led the way, bounding to the open doorway on all fours, with Mickey running to catch up, not wanting Minnie to be startled if nova was on novas way back.

The orangutanan didn’t hesitate when it reached the stairwell where the smell hit Mickey in the face like a brick wall, it just kept going, ducking into the first room they found, which was a crew quarters. It hopped onto the closest bunk and pulled the blanket up around its shoulders. Mickey stayed just outside the door so Minnie would be able to find them.

It didn’t take nova long to come back from the depths of the ship. Nova had managed to find a few oranges, a lot of prunes, hardtack, dried beans, and salt pork, all of it untouched by whatever disaster had struck the crew, except for the ever-present stench on the outside of the containers. Thankfully, they had all been carefully stored, so the food inside was safe. Minnie had put as much as nova could carry into a small crate, found a pot and a ladle, and carried it all up, intending to go back for the rest. There was no point letting it go to waste, it might as go back on their ship with them.

Mickey introduced Minnie to the orangutanan, they gently questioned it to the best of their ability only to learn it had nothing helpful to share, and they let it have any of the currently-edible food it wanted, before the three of them went back down into the bowels of the ship to grab the rest of the supplies.

They found more dried and salted foods, clothes, which they packed up, and a few dirt pans for cats, but found no trace of the animals themselves, though they looked everywhere they could think of.

It took a while, but with the three of them working together, they managed to pack up everything that was carryable and would fit on their boat, and attached floats to them, piling them up by the railing. By the time they were done, Mickey found xalexir actually getting used to the stench.

Xal went below one last time, the orangutanan shadowing xallix every step like a ghost while Minnie waited up top, and came quickly back with the log-book and papers from the captain's room. They’d already found and carefully packed up as many personal possessions from the crew quarters as they could, to send back to the families of the missing.

Xal tied the log book and other papers from the captains room in a tight wrapping of oilcloth from the galley and hung them at xallix belt to make sure they wouldn’t float away, while Minnie took the wheel again and brought the cumbersome craft slowly into the wind.

The bare mast of their own sloop was bobbing alongside on the rope as Mickey went down the line and swam over to her first, then carefully brought it back up beside the larger ship so the loot could be lowered down with ropes before Minnie and the orangutanan climbed down.

Fending off from the wallowing hulk, Mickey cut the line while Minnie and the orangutanan stowed the supplies, and the small craft slipped slowly astern as the big vessel fell off in the wind and drew lumberingly away on her unguided course.

She vanished into the clear-cut horizon before the watching mice and orangutanan ceased their staring and Mickey pricked a point upon xallix chart that xal estimated was xallix current position.

And they all three watched vainly for some sign of life on the heaving waters as Minnie set the sloop back on her easterly course.

- - -

It was two young mice trailed by an orangutanan who walked with brisk strides into the office of Admiral Struthers. The gold-striped arm of the uniformed man was extended in quick greeting.

"Made it, did you?" he exclaimed. "Congratulations!"

"All O.K.," Mickey agreed shortly. "Ship and log are ready for your verification."

"Talk sense," said the officer. "Have any trouble or excitement? Or perhaps you are more interested in collecting a certain bet than you are in discussing the trip. And who’s your new friend there?"

"Damn the bet!" said the young enby fervently. "And that's just what I am here for—to talk about the trip and my friend. There were some little incidents that may interest you."

Xal and Minnie painted for the Admiral in brief, terse sentences the picture of that dawn on the Pacific, the line of breakers, white in the vanishing night, the abandoned ship beyond, cracking her canvas to tatters in the freshening breeze. And xal told of their boarding her and of what they had found, and that their new friend the still-unnamed orangutanan had been witness, but couldn’t explain what had happened, from a combination of shock and not yet being fully Aware.

"Where was this?" asked the officer, and Mickey gave the position as xal had checked it on the map.

"I reported the derelict to a passing steamer that same day," xal added, but the Admiral was calling for a chart. He spread it on the desk before himself and placed the tip of a pencil in the center of an unbroken expanse.

"Breakers, you said?" he questioned. "Why, there are hundreds of fathoms here."

“We know it," Minnie agreed, stepping forward firmly, "but we saw them—a stretch of white water for an eighth of a mile. I know it's impossible, but it’s true. But forget that for now, Admiral. Look at this." nova opened a brief case and took out a log-book and some other papers Mickey had collected.

"The log of the Minnie R.," nova explained briefly. "And yes, I know the irony. Nothing in this log but routine entries up to that morning and then nothing at all."

"Abandoned," mused the Admiral, "and they did not take to the boats. There have been other instances—never explained."

"See if this helps any," suggested Mickey, and moved to Minnie’s side to grab the other two sheets of paper from the case. "They were in the captain's cabin," xal added.

Admiral Struthers glanced at them, then settled back in his chair.

"Dated September fourth," he said. "That would have been the day previous to the time you found her." The writing was plain, in a careful, well-formed hand. He cleared his throat and read aloud:

"Written by Jeremiah Wilkens of Salem, Mass., master of the Minnie R., bound from Shanghai to San Pedro. I have sailed the seas for forty years, and for the first time I am afraid. I hope I may destroy this paper when the lights of San Pedro are safe in sight, but I am writing here what it would shame me to set down in the ship's log, though I know there are stranger happenings on the face of the waters than man has ever seen—or has lived to tell.

All this day I have been filled with fear. I have been watched—I have felt it as surely as if a devil out of hell stood beside me with his eyes fastened on mine. The men have felt it, too. They have been frightened at nothing and have tried to conceal it as I have done.—And the animals....

"A shark has followed us for days—it is gone to-day. The cats—we have three on board—have howled horribly and have hidden themselves in the cargo down below. The mate is bringing a big monkey to be sold in Los Angeles. An orang-outang, he calls it. It has been an ugly brute, shaking at the bars of its cage and showing its ugly teeth ever since we left port. But to-day it is crouched in a corner of its cage and will not stir even for food. The poor beast is in mortal terror.

"All this is more like the wandering talk of an old woman muttering in a corner by the fireside of witches and the like than it is like a truthful account set down by Jeremiah Wilkins. And now that I have written it I see there is nothing to tell. Nothing but the shameful account of my fear of some horror beyond my knowing. And now that it is written I am tempted to destroy—No, I will wait—"

"And now what is this?" Admiral Struthers interrupted his reading to ask. He turned the paper to read a coarse, slanting scrawl at the bottom of the page.

"The eyes—the eyes—they are everywhere above us—God help—" The writing trailed off in a straggling line.

The Admiral’s lips drew themselves into a hard line. It was a moment before the catan raised his eyes to meet those of Mickey Mouse-Mallaire.

"You found this in the captain's cabin?" he asked.

"Yes."

"And the captain was—"

"Gone."

"Blood stains?"

"No, but the door had been burst off its hinges. There had been a struggle without a doubt."

“And your friend the orang-outangan cannot enlighten us?”

“No.”

“What about the cats that were mentioned?”

“We saw no sign of them besides their dirt pans.”

The officer mused for a minute or two.

"Did they go aboard another vessel?" he pondered. "Abandon ship—open the sea-cocks—sink it for the insurance?" He was trying vainly to find some answer to the problem, some explanation that would not impose too great a strain upon his own reason.

"We have reported to the owners," said Minnie. "The Minnie R. was not heavily insured."

The Admiral ruffled some papers on his desk to find a report.

"There has been another," he told his audience. "A tramp freighter is listed as missing. She was last reported due east of the position you give. She was coming this way—must have come through about the same water—" He caught himself up abruptly. Mickey sensed that an Admiral of the Navy must not lend too credulous an ear to impossible stories.

"You've had an interesting experience, Mvr. Mouse-Mallaire, M. Mallaire-Mouse, friend orang-outangan" he said, taking on a formal, dismissive tone. "Most interesting. Probably a derelict is the answer, some hull just afloat. We will send out a general warning."

He handed the loose papers and the log book to Mickey. "This stuff is rubbish," he stated with emphasis. "Captain Wilkins held his command a year or so too long."

"You will do nothing about it?" Mickey and Minnie asked simultaneously in astonishment.

"I said I would warn all shipping; there is nothing more to be done." the Admiral said shortly.

"I think there is." Mickey's black eyes were steady behind xallix glasses as xal regarded the man at the desk. "We intend to run it down. There have been other such instances, as you said—never explained. We mean to find the answer."

Admiral Pete Struthers smiled indulgently. "Always after excitement, two you" he said. "You'll be co-writing another book, I expect. I shall look forward to reading it ... but just what are you two going to do?"

"We are going to the Islands," said Mickey quietly. "We are going to charter a small ship of some sort, and we are going out there to camp on that spot in the hope of seeing those eyes and what is behind them. We’ll be leaving to-night."

Admiral Struthers leaned back to indulge in a hearty laugh. "I refused you a passage on a destroyer once," he said, "and it was an expensive mistake. I don't make the same mistake twice. Now I am going to offer you a trip....The Bennington is leaving to-day on a cruise to Manila. I'll hold her an extra hour or two if you would like to go. She can drop you at Honolulu or wherever you say. Lieutenant Commander Brent is in command—you remember him in Manila, of course."

"Fine," Mickey Mouse-Mallaire responded. "We'll be there, after we make arrangements for a plane to return our friend here home." Xal gestured at the orangutanan, who had been looking curiously around the room.

"And," xal added, as xal took the Admiral's hand, "if I didn't object to betting on a sure thing, I would make you a little proposition. I would bet any money that you would give your shirt to go along."

"I never bet, either," said Admiral Struthers, "on a sure loss. Now get out of here, you young trouble-shooters, and let the Navy get to work." His eyes were twinkling as he waved the young ones out.

- - -

Minnie and Mickey found themselves comfortably fixed on the Bennington. Brent, her commander, was a fine example of the aggressive young chaps that the destroyer fleet breeds. And he liked to play cribbage, Mouse-Mallaire found. They were chugging away industriously the sixth night out when the first S.O.S. reached them. A message was placed before the commander. He read it and tossed it to Minnie, who was closer, as he rose from his chair.

"S.O.S.," said the radio sheet, "Nagasaki Maru, twenty-four thirty-five N., one five eight West. Struck something unknown. Down at the bow. May need help. Please stand by."

Captain Brent had left the room. A moment later, and the quiver and tremble of the Bennington told Mickey they were running full speed for the position of the stricken ship.

But: "Twenty-four thirty-five North," nova mused aloud to Mickey, "and less than two degrees west of where the poor old Minnie R. got hers. I wonder ... I wonder...."

"We will be there in four hours," said Captain Brent on his return. "Hope she lasts. But what have they struck out there? Derelict probably, though she should have had Admiral Struthers' warning."

Mickey Mouse-Mallaire made no reply other than: "Wait here a minute, Brent. I have something to show you."

Xal had not told the officer of their mission nor of the experience they’d shared, but xal did so now. And xal placed before him the wildly improbable statement of the late Captain Wilkins.

"There’s something there, alright" surmised Captain Brent, studiously ignoring the fantastic elements of the story. "just awash, probably—no superstructure visible. Your Minnie R. hit the same thing."

"Something is there," Mickey agreed. "I wish I knew what."

"This stuff has got to you, has it?" asked Brent as he returned the papers of Captain Wilkins. He was quite evidently amused at the thought, and didn’t bother to hide his disbelief.

"You weren't on the ship," said Minnie Mallaire, simply, as nova followed him out of the room. "There was nothing to see—nothing to tell. But we know...."

They followed Brent to the wireless room.

"Can you get the Nagasaki?" Brent asked.

"They know we are coming, sir," said the operator. "We seem to be the only one anywhere near."

He handed the captain another message. "Something odd about that," he said.

"U. S. S. Bennington," the captain read aloud. "We are still afloat. On even keel now, but low in water. No water coming in. Engines full speed ahead, but we make no headway. Apparently aground. Nagasaki Maru."

"Why, that's impossible," Brent exclaimed impatiently. "What kind of foolishness—" He left the question uncompleted. The radio man was writing rapidly. Some message was coming at top speed. The three of them leaned over the radio man's shoulder to read as he wrote.

"Bennington help," the pencil was writing, "sinking fast—decks almost awash—we are being—"

In breathless silence they watched the pencil, poised above the paper while the operator listened tensely to the silent night.

Again his ear received the wild jumble of dots and dashes sent by a frenzied hand in that far-off room. His pencil automatically set down the words. "Help—help—" it wrote before Mickey Mouse-Mallaire's spellbound gaze, "the eyes—the eyes—it is attack—"

And again the black night held only the rush and roar of torn waters where the destroyer raced quivering through the darkness. The message, as those waiting well knew, would never be completed.

"A derelict!" Mickey exclaimed with angry scorn. But Captain Brent was already at a communication tube, too busy to notice.

"Chief? Captain Brent. Give her everything you've got. Drive the Bennington faster than she ever went before."

The slim ship was a quivering lance of steel that threw itself through foaming waters, that shot with an endless, roaring surge of speed toward that distant point in the heaving waste of the Pacific, and that seemed, to the three silent watchers on the bridge, to put the dragging miles behind them so slowly—so slowly.

"Let me see those papers," said Captain Brent, finally.

He read them in silence.

Then: "The eyes!" he read aloud. "The eyes! That is what this other poor devil said. My God, you mice, what is it? What can it be? We're not all insane."

"I don't know what I expected to find," said Mickey slowly. "I had thought of many things, each wilder than the next. This Captain Wilkins said the eyes were above him. I had visions of some sky monster ... I had even thought of some strange aircraft from out in space, perhaps, with round lights like eyes. I have pictured impossibilities! But now—" Mickey stopped short of saying what xal was thinking.

"Yes," the captain questioned insistantly, "now?"

"There were tales in olden times of the Kraken," said Minnie, knowing exactly what Mickey had stopped xalexir from saying aloud.

"The Kraken!" the captain scoffed. "A mythical monster of the sea. Why, that was just a fable."

"True," was Minnie’s quiet reply, "that was just a fable. And one of the things I have learned over the years is how frequently there is a basis of fact underlying a fable. And, for that matter, how can we know there is no such monster, some relic of a Mesozoic species supposed to be extinct? How long did it take for humans to really start to accept Awareness in other species?"

The two mice stood motionless, staring far out ahead into the dark. And Brent, too, was silent. The three seemed to try with unaided eyes to penetrate the dark miles ahead and see what their minds refused to accept.

- - -

It was still dark when the search-light's sweeping beam picked up the black hull and broad, red-striped funnels of the Nagasaki Maru. She was riding high in the water, and her big bulk rolled and wallowed in the trough of the great swells.

The Bennington swept in a swift circle about the helpless hulk while the lights played incessantly upon her decks. And the watching eyes strained vainly for some signal to betoken life, for some sign that their mad race had not been quite vain. Her engines had been shut down; there was no steerage-way for the Nagasaki Maru, and, from all they could see, there were no human hands to drag at the levers of her waiting engines nor to twirl with sure touch the deserted helm. The Nagasaki Maru was abandoned.

The lights held steadily upon her as the Bennington came alongside and a boat was swung out smartly in its davits. But Mickey knew xal was not alone in xallix wild idea as to the cause of the catastrophe. They were all thinking of that terrible, mythical kraken.

"Throw your lights around the water occasionally," Brent ordered. "Let me know if you see anything."

"Yes sir," said the man at the search-light. "I will report if I spot any survivors or boats."

"Report anything you see," said Commander Brent curtly.

"You go aboard if you want to," he said, turning to Mickey and Minnie. "I will stay here and be ready if you need help."

It didn’t take long to get a boat ready, or for the two micean and a search and rescue crew to climb aboard and set out.

Mickey nodded with approval as xal looked back at the Bennington as the small boat pulled away in the dark, for there was activity apparent on the destroyer not warranted by a mere rescue at sea, showing that the captain was taking the threat seriously. Gun-crews rushed to their stations; the tarpaulin covers were off of the guns, and their slender lengths gleamed where they covered the course of the boat.

"Brent is ready," Mickey admitted softly to Minnie, "for anything."

“I hope so.” Nova said softly back. Neither of them spoke above a whisper, not daring to make any more noise while surrounded by the black waves with only a few plants of wood between them and the other sailors and whatever lay beneath it.

They found the iron ladder against the ship's side, and a sailor sprang for it and made his way aboard first. Mickey was not the last to set foot on deck, but xal still shuddered involuntarily at the eery silence xal knew awaited them.

It was the Minnie R. over again, as xal expected, but with a difference. The Minnir R., before Mickey and Minnie boarded it, had been for some time exposed to the sun, while the Nagasaki Maru had not. And here there were slimy trails still wet on the decks.

Xal went first to the wireless room with Minnie, while the sailors spread out to search for survivors. Xal had to know the final answer to that interrupted message, and xal found it in emptiness. No radio controller was awaiting xalv there, nor even a body to show the loser of an unequal battle. But there was blood on the door-jamb where a body—the operator's body, Mickey was sure—had been smashed against the wood. A wisp of black hair in the blood gave its mute evidence of the hopeless fight. And the slime, like the trails on the deck, smeared with odorous vileness the whole room.

They went again to the deck, and, as on the other ship, xal breathed deeply to rid xallix lungs and nostrils of the abhorrent stench. The ensign in charge of the boarding party approached.

"What kind of a rotten mess is this?" she demanded. "The ship is filthy and not a soul on board. Not a one of them, officers or crew, and the boats are all here. It's absolutely amazing, isn't it?"

"No," Mickey told her, "this is, unfortunately, about what we expected. What do you make of this?" Xal touched with xallix foot a broad trail that shone wet in the Bennington's lights.

"The Lord knows," said the ensign in wonder. "It's all over and it smells like a rotten dead fish. Well, we will be going back over, exiir."

She called to a petty officer to round up the crew, and the boat was brought alongside again. Mickey and Minnie went back across with the others.

They returned to the Bennington again through a pathway of light that Mickey knew was safe under the black muzzles of the destroyer's guns.

Or was it, xal asked xalexir. Safe! Was anything safe from this devilish mystery that could pluck each cowering sentient from the lowest depths of this steel freighter, that could drag her down in the water till the radio operator sent his cry: "We are sinking!..."

But they made it across safely nevertheless.

Xal told Brent quietly, after the ensign had finished report in on the lack of survivors to be found, of the struggles xal had found in the wireless room and its few remaining traces. And both micean had watched with the commander through the hour of deepest darkness while the Bennington steamed in slow circles about the abandoned hulk, while her search-lights played endlessly over the empty waters and the crew at the guns cast wondering glances at their skipper who ordered such strange procedure when no danger was there.

Eventually, Mickey and Minnie were forced to give up their vigil in return for sleep. As anxious as they were, they couldn’t stay on their feet any longer without rest. Almost as soon as their heads touched their pillows, they were out like a light, and too tired to dream.

They woke with the first rays of dawn, and with daylight the scene across from the Benningtonlost its sense of mysterious threat, and Mickey and Minnie were eager to return to the abandoned ship.

"We might find something," Minnie said to the captain as an attempt to bring him around to the idea, "some trace or indication of what we have to fight."

"I must leave," said Commander Brent. "Oh, I'm coming back, never fear," he added, at the looks of dismay on their faces. It was clear that the thought of leaving this mystery unsolved was more than these young seekers of adventure could accept.

"I'm coming back," Brent repeated firmly. "I've been in communication with the Admiral—Honolulu has relayed the messages through. All code, of course; we mustn't alarm the whole Pacific with our nightmares. The old cat says to stick around and get the low-down on this damn thing."

"Then why leave?" objected Mickey.

“Because I am coming around to your way of thinking, mice. Because I am as certain as can be that we have a monster of some sort to deal with ... and because I haven't any depth charges. I want to run up to the supply station at Honolulu and get a couple of ash-cans of TNT to lay on top of the brute if we sight him."

"Glory be!" said Mickey fervently. "That sounds like business. Go and get your eggs and perhaps we can feed them to this devil—raw.... And I think I'll stay here, if you will be back by dark."

“Me too, of course.” Minnie added.

"Better not," the other objected; but the two mice overruled him.

"This thing attacks in the dark," Mickey said. "I will lay a little bet on that. It left the orangutanan on the Minnie R.—quit at the first sign of daylight. We will be safe through the day, and besides, the beast has gutted this ship. It won't return, I imagine. And if we stay there for the day—live as they lived, those who manned that ship—I may have some information that will be of help when you get back. But for Heaven's sake, Brent, don't stop to pick any flowers on the way."

"It's your funerals," said Brent, not cheerfully. "The old cat said to give you every assistance, and perhaps that includes helping you commit suicide."

But Mickey Mouse-Mallaire and Minnie Mallaire-Mouse only laughed as Commander Brent gave his orders for a small boat to be lowered. A ship's lantern and rockets for night signals were taken at the officer's orders. "We'll be back before dark," he said, "but take these as a precaution."

One favor Mickey asked—that the ship's carpenter go over with them and help them to make a strong-barred retreat of the wireless cabin.

"And I'll talk to you occasionally," Minnie told Brent. "I tried the key while we were aboard; the wireless is working on its batteries, and I know the basics of how to use it."

Mickey waved a cheery good-by as the small boat pulled away. "And hurry back," xal called. The destroyer commander nodded an emphatic assent.

On board the Nagasaki Maru, Mickey directed the carpenter and its helpers in the work xal wanted done, while Minnie started up a search of the bowels of the ship. The carpenter-othran seemed to know instinctively where to put its hands on needed supplies, and the result was a virtual cage of strong oak bars enclosing the wireless room, and braces of oak to bar the single door.

Mickey was not assuming any bravado in xallix feeling of safety, but xal was doing what xal and Minnie had done in many other tight corners, and xal prepared their defences in advance.

These included weapons of offense as well. As the boat with the destroyer's crew pulled back to the Bennington, xal placed in easy reach in a corner of the room a heavy calibered rifle xal had taken from xallix belongings, and Minnie had novas sword.

And, still, with all xallix feeling of security, there was a strange depression fell upon xalv when the Bennington's narrow hull was small upon the horizon, and then that, too, was gone and only the heaving swells and the wallowing hulk were xallix companions.

Only these? Xal shivered slightly as xal thought of that unseen watcher with the devil-eyes whose presence Captain Wilkins had felt—and his crew, and the poor terrified ape! Xal deliberately put from xallix mind the thought of this; no use to start the day with morbid fears. Xal reassured xalexir that the orangutanan was probably safely home by now by way of airplane, no more need to fear the sea. Xal went below to examine the cabins, and to find Minnie, trying not to rush, trying to keep xallix fear in check. But xal carried the heavy elephant gun with xalv wherever xal went, and was only reassured slightly when xal was back at Minnie’s side.

Below decks the signs of the marauder were everywhere, yet there was little to be learned. The slimy trails dried quickly and vanished, but not before the two had traced them to the uttermost depths of the ship.

There was not a nook or corner that had gone unsearched in the horrible quest for sentient food. And one thing impressed itself forcibly upon the enby's mind: xal found a lantern, and xal used it of necessity in xallix explorations, but this thing had gone through the dark and with unerring certainty had found its way to every victim.

"Can it see in the dark?" Mickey questioned aloud. "Or...." Xal visioned dimly some denizen of the vast depths, living beyond the limits of the sun's penetration, far in the abysmal darkness where its only light must be self-made. But xallix mind failed in the attempt to picture what manner of horror this thing might be.

“Or else it finds its way entirely by touch.” Minnie offered.

Even in the hold its evil traces were found. There were tiers of metal drums that still shone wet in the light of Mickey lantern. Calcium carbide—for making acetylene, xal supposed—marked "Made in U.Q.N." The Nagasaki must have been westward bound.

The two went, after an hour or so, back up to the wireless room, and only when xal relaxed in the safety of the improvised fortress did xal realize how tense had been every nerve and muscle through xallix long search, even with the comfort of Minnie’s presence. Nova tried the wireless and got an instant response from the destroyer.

"Don't shoot it too fast," Minnie spelled out slowly to the distant operator as nova spoke aloud for Mickey’s benefit: "I am only a dub. Just wanted to say hello and report all O.K."

"Fine," was the steady, careful response. "We have had a little trouble with our condensers—" There was a short pause, then the message continued, this portion dictated by the commander. "Delay not important. We will be back as agreed. Have picked up S. S. Adelaide bound east in your latitude. Warned her to take northerly course account derelict. See you later. Signed, Brent, commanding U. S. S. Bennington."

Minnie tapped off novas acknowledgement and closed the key.

Mickey suddenly realized xal had had no breakfast, and the hours had been slipping past, and said so aloud.

Xal decided to go down to the galley to prepare a pot of coffee and porridge, and left xallix gun behind for Minnie.

It was not the time or place for an enjoyable meal, but xal would have relished it more had xal not pictured the Adelaide and her lovely owner steaming across these threatening seas.

Unfortunately, the two knew the captain of the Adelaide. "Obstinate pigheaded old Scotchman!” Mickey exclaimed to Minnie, “Hope he takes Brent's advice. Of course Brent couldn't tell him the truth. We can't blat this wild yarn all over the air or the passenger lines would have our scalps. But I wish the Adelaide was safe in Manila."

Minnie said nothing, but nodded in silent, clear anxiety.

They both knew Vinnie was aboard that boat.

After they ate, the two went back to exploring the ship in the afternoon, but their efforts were half-hearted and perfunctory. There was nothing more to be learned. But Mickey had seen in xallix mind some vague outline of what they must meet. Xal saw a something, mammoth, huge, that could grasp and hold an ocean freighter—against whose great body xal had seen the waves dash in a line of white spray. Yet a something that could force its way down narrow passages, could press with terrific strength on bolted doors and crush them inward, wrecked and splintered. Some serpentine thing that felt and saw its way and crawled so surely through the dark—found its prey—seized it—and carried off a man as easily as it might a mouse.

No octopus, no matter what proportions, filled the description. Mickey gave up trying to see too clearly the awful thing. And then xal had, casually, not thinking, walked to the railing to look over the waves. And suddenly there had come to xalv a feeling of fear that had sent the waves of cold trickling and prickling up xallix spine. Was there something really there?... A waiting lurking horror in the depths? It had been so terrible and oppressive that xal had turned tail and ran back to the wireless room on all fours in instinctive fear, and dragged the door shut behind xalv, startling Minnie at the table.

"The eyes," were all xal could think, "the eyes!…"

“There’s something out there.” was all xal could bring xalexir to say.

- - -

The position of the deserted ship was south of the regular steamer lanes on the TransPacific run. Only a trace of smoke on the northern horizon marked through the afternoon the passage of other craft. It was a long and lonely vigil for the waiting mice. But the Bennington would return, and Minnie listened in at intervals hoping to hear her friendly signal. They took turns napping over the course of the day to keep their energy up, and nothing untoward happened, despite their rising anxieties.

The batteries operating the Nagasaki's wireless were none too strong, so Minnie saved their strength, though nova tried at times to raise the Bennington somewhere beyond their reach as the sun sank lower in the afternoon sky.

It was touching the horizon when Minnie got novas first response. "Keep up the old nerve," admonished the slow, careful sending of the Bennington's operator. "We have been delayed but we are on our way. Signed, Brent."

That was easier said than done. In the wireless room, Mickey slid the oak brace across the door, and they both tried to pretend the action was nonchalant and unafraid as xal laid out extra clips of cartridges. But Mickey’s eyes persisted in following the sinking sun, and Minnie was practically glued to the wireless, and they watched, from within their self-made cage, the coming of the quick dark.

The protecting glare of day must be unbearable to this monster from the lightless depths, but that guardian daylight was vanishing. Mickey's mind was searching for additional means of defense. Xallix racing thoughts found it in the cargo xal had seen. The drums of carbide! They could scatter it on the deck—it reacted with water, and those slimy arms, if they came and touched it, could find the contact hot.

Xal shared the idea with Minnie quickly, and they decided it was worth the risk of leaving the wireless room.

Quickly, they took the lantern and went hastily below at a run to stagger painstakingly slowly back, having to work together to carry one of the large drums between them. It suddenly felt like every struggled step was a race against time, and they were losing.

In the half-light that was left they together forced the cover off, then rolled the drum frantically about the swaying deck. The gray, earthly lumps of carbide formed erratic lines criss-crossing the wood. Useless perhaps, xal admitted to xalexir, but the threatening dark forced xalv to find every means of defense at xallix command. It was the only thing keeping xalv from panicking completely.

They had brought up and were scattering the contents of a second drum when the two stiffened abruptly, simultaneously, to rigid attention.

The ship, thrown broadside to the wide-spaced swells, had rolled endlessly with a monotonous motion. But now the deck beneath their feet was steadying. As they stood frozen, it assumed an abnormal levelness. The boat rose and fell with the waves, but it no longer rolled. There was something beneath holding, drawing on it.

Mickey knew in that frozen second what it meant, and a petrified glance at Minnie showed nova did as well. The drum clattered to the rail as together they dashed for the wireless room. Minnie slammed and bolted the door behind them, and dove for novas sword. Grabbing up xallix gun, Mickey watched with staring eyes where the deserted deck showed dim and vague in the light of the stars and the bow of the ship was lost in the uncertain dark of night.

Wide-eyed xal watched into the blackness, and listened with desperate attention for some slightest sound beyond the splashing of waves and the creaking of spars and the sound of xallix and Minnie’s fearful breathing.

Far in the west a light appeared, to glow and vanish and glow again in the tumbling waters. The Bennington! Xallix heart leaped at the thought, then sank as xal knew the destroyer's lights would not appear from that direction.

Through an excruciating hour that seemed to crawl by in an eternity, the oncoming ship drew near, and xal knew with a sudden, startling certainty that it was the Adelaide—and Vinnie Violinist—coming on, through into the horror awaiting.

Mickey leaned forward tensely as a sound reached xallix pricked ears. A ghostly echo of a sound, like the softest of smooth, slipping fabric upon hard steel. And as xal listened, before xallix staring eyes, a something came between xalv and the lighted yacht. Minnie gasped almost silently beside xalv.

The shape wavered and swung in the darkness. It was formless, uncertain of outline, and it swung in the night out beyond the ship's rail till it suddenly neared, waved high overhead, and the cold light of the stars shone in pale reflection from an enormous, staring eye.

It surmounted a serpentine form that took shape in the dim radiance without and came lower in undulating folds to suddenly crash heavily upon the deck.

Hardly aware of moving, Mickey found xalexir with Minnie next to the wireless, and novas hand was upon the key.

Then, fast as novas panic allowed, Minnie called frantically for the Adelaide. Nova spelled her name, over and over.... Would the sleepy operator never answer? Automatically, like a prayer, nova whispered what nova was doing for Mickey’s benefit in a tone hardly louder than a breath, not daring to be any louder for fear of attracting the attention of the monster outside.

The Bennington broke in on nova. "Is that you, mice? What is up?" they demanded.

But Minnie kept up novas slow spelling of the yacht's name. Nova must get a warning to them! Then nova realized that the Bennington could do it better.

"Bennington," nova called, "Adelaide approaching. I am attacked. Warn them off. Warn them—" Novas frantic, hissing dots and dashes stopped suddenly. Beneath their feet the Nagasaki Maru was rolling again, swinging free to the lift and thrust of the swells beneath.

"Good God!" xal shouted aloud in dismay, "It's gone for the yacht!”

“Adelaide—“ Minnie tapped frantically, “turn north—full speed—Head north. You are being attacked!"

Mickey groaned as xal saw the Adelaide's shining ports swing away from the safety of the north; the ship broached broadside to the waves and came slowly to a stop.

"Bennington," nova radioed. "Brent—it has got the Adelaide. Help—hurry! We have to go over!" Nova didn’t need to check that plan of action with Mickey, because they both knew there was nothing that would stop them from going to the rescue.

Xal tore wildly at the barred door while Minnie took off the wireless, and together they made a dash across the deck, only to crash in a painfully tangled heap of limbs against the rail where the slimy traces of the recent visitor made the deck slide out under their feet like soap.

They got untangled somehow, and how they lowered the lifeboat left by the Benningtoninto the water without disaster, neither could ever say for sure, looking back.

While Minnie swept down first, Mickey secured xallix rifle around xallix shoulder and with a rope, then wasted no time in joining Minnie in the boat so they could cast off in a frenzy of haste.

What could they do? Mickey hardly dared form the question. Only this stood clear and unanswerable in xallix mind: The yacht was in the monster's grip, and Vinnie Violinist was there on board. Vinnie Violinist, so smiling, so friendly, so lovable! Food for that horror from the depths.…

Neither needed to speak aloud to know the other was thinking the same thing. They rowed with super-mousan strength to drive the heavy boat across the wave-swept distance that separated them from the yacht.

Between gasping breaths xal gave brief instructions to correct their course, xallix eyes locked on the lights in the quickly closing distance. As they drew near, xal saw, though indistinctly with the water that had splashed up onto xallix glasses, the unmistakable, snakelike weaving of horrible tenuous fingers, rolling and groping about the yacht.

They were plain as xal drew alongside. The trim ship rose and fell with the water, while over her side where the two mice approached swung a long, white monstrous rope of flesh. It retreated like the lash of a whip, and the horrified watchers saw as it went the struggling figure of a dogan in the grasp of flabby lips. And above them a single eye glared wickedly.

Another vile, twisting arm rose from the afterdeck with a screaming figure in its grasp and vanished into the water beyond the yacht. There were others writhing about the decks. Mickey saw them as they made the boat fast and clambered aboard.

A wave of reeking air enveloped xalv as xal reached the deck; the nauseous stench from the monster's tentacles was horrible beyond endurance. Xal gagged and choked as the stifling breath entered xallix lungs, Minnie coughing beside xalv.

A huge rope of slippery, throbbing flesh stretched its twisted length toward the stern. It contracted as xal watched into bulging muscular rings and withdrew from the afterdeck. The deadly end of it stopped in mid-air not twenty feet from where xal stood. The jawlike pincers on it held the limp form of an officer in its sucking grip, while above, in a protuberance like a gnarled horn, a single great eye glared into Mickey's two with insatiable hunger.

The beak opened sharply to drop its unconscious burden upon the deck, and the watching enby, petrified with horror, saw within the gaping maw great sucking discs and beyond them a brilliant glow. The whole cavernous pit was aflame with phosphorescent light. Dimly xal knew that this light explained the ability of the beastly arms to grope so surely in the dark.

The eye narrowed as the gaping, fleshy jaws distended, and Mickey Mouse-Mallaire, in a flash that galvanized xalv to action, was suddenly aware that xallix fight all their lives was on. Xal fired blindly from the hip, and the recoil of the heavy gun almost tore it from xallix hands. But xal knew xal had aimed true, and the toothless, seeking jaws whipped in agony back into the sea, leaving its prey behind.

There were other arms whose eyes were searching the stern of the yacht, and no time to think.

The two micean plunged frenziedly down a companionway for the cabin they knew was Vinnie Violinist’s. Were they in time? Could they save them if they found them?

Mickey’s mind was in a turmoil of half-formed plans as xal rushed madly down the corridor after Minnie only to find the body of their beloved a limp huddle across the threshold of their cabin, with four other young people huddled by them, only slightly more conscious, one of them clutching an unconcious catan in their arms.

Vinnie was alive; xal knew it when Minnie swung their limp body across one shoulder, flashing a steely determined glance at xalv. Mickey somehow found the strength in xallix panic to yank the four strangers to their feet, hissing for them to follow if they wanted to live, helping to carry the unconcious catan when it became apparent the stranger who’d been holding them was too shocked to do it themselves at the moment.

As a panicked herd the group staggered up the stairs led by Minnie carrying Vinnie, with Mickey carrying the catan at the rear to keep them all together.

If xal could only breathe! Xallix throat was tight and strangling with the reeking putrescence in the air. It was no wonder Vinnie was unconcious and the others not far from it. And before xallix eyes was a picture of the strong oak bars of their own retreat. Somehow, some way, they had to get back to Nagasaki Maru.

An eye detected their group as they came on deck, and xal was forced to shove the limp body of the cat into two of the other survivor’s combined arms as xal swung xallix rifle toward the glowing light within the opening jaws. The sucking discs cupped and wrinkled in dread readiness in the fleshy, toothless opening. Mickey emptied the magazine into the head, though xal knew this was only a feeler and a feeder for a still more horrible mouth in the monstrous body that rose and fell tremendously in the dark waters beyond. But it was typical of Mickey Mouse-Mallaire that, even in the horror and frenzy of the moment, xal rammed another clip of cartridges into xallix rifle, realized the humans xal had shoved the catan at were much more aware and could carry them better than xal could, and managed to fire another shot to ward off another reaching tentacle as Minnie led the group again at a charge towards their boat.

The forward deck for the moment was clear; it rose high with the weight of the writhing, twisting arms that weighed down the stern of the yacht where Mickey could see what looked like another two members of the crew had taken refuge. Xal couldn’t tell if either were Vinnie’s god-father from this distance.

For a moment Mickey thought of stopping, of trying to help them too, but xal was forced to dismiss even the thought as another great eye came over the rail just feet away from Minnie at the head of the group. Once more xal used the gun with stunning effect, slung it back securely over xallix shoulder, then quickly leapt to grab the crew member who’d been dropped by the monster when they first arrived while Minnie hustled everyone into the boat.

Not knowing or caring if the body in xallix arms was even alive, Mickey jumped down into the boat, shoved the body into someone else’s arms without even looking, and they frantically cast off, xal with one set of oars, and Minnie with the others, while the survivors crowded the middle.

They rowed with the stealthiest strokes they could manage with so many extra burdens aboard, trying to get away without drawing more attention to themselves. Mickey didn’t know what they would do if their little lifeboat were attacked, there would just be no chance.

Behind xalv, reflected in Minnie’s wide eyes, were whipping points of light above the white brilliance of the yacht Adelaide, the search lights of the hungry monster. The boat was tossing in great waves that came from beyond, where a body, incredibly huge, was tearing the waters to foam. There were ghostly arms that shone in slimy wetness, that lashed searchingly in all directions, as the monster gave vent to its reaction at Mickey's attack.

There were now screaming human figures grasped in two of those flying jaws, and the enby felt guilt wash through xallix soul at not being able to rescue them as well. But there was nothing that could be done, not without risking everyone aboard the lifeboat now.

With the monster so enraged, they gave in to the fear and began to row with all speed now, desperate only to get as far away as possible as quickly as possible.

Even with their combined strength at the oars, with so many heavier humans as passengers, both Minnie and Mickey’s breaths were coming in great choking sobs of sheer exhaustion when they finally pulled up beside the Nagasaki Maru and managed topull the senseless forms of the survivors, both unconcious and concious, over the railing. One and all, with the humans now helping to carry those who were unconcious, they retreated into the frail shelter of the wireless room.

Stout had the oaken bars appeared, and safe their refuge in the barricaded room, but that was before the two mice had seen in horrible reality the fearful fury of this monster from the deep. Only the weight of the rifle still on xallix shoulders gave xalv the courage to keep upright. Xal placed the braces against the door and Minnie jumped with hopeless haste to seize the wireless key while the survivors huddled around the still unconcious forms of Vinnie, the catan, and the crew member on the floor.

"Bennington," Minnie called, and the answer came strong and clear: "Where are you.... Help—" For a moment novas fingers visibly froze upon the key, and the answering message in novas ears was unheeded as nova stared across the water, drawing Mickey’s gaze away from nova and towards the final destruction of the yacht.

This craft that had dared to resist the onset of the brute, to fight against it, to wound it, was feeling the full fury of the monster's rage. The gleaming lights of the doomed ship were waving lines that swept to and fro in the grip of those monstrous arms. The boat beneath their feet was tossing in the waves that told of the titanic struggle. Mickey had meant to look south for some sign of the oncoming destroyer, but in fearful fascination xal stared spellbound where the masts of the trim yacht swept downward into the waves, where the green of her star-board lantern glowed faintly for an instant, then vanished, to leave only the darkness and the starlit sea.

A voice aroused xalv from his stupefaction. "Where am I ... where am I?" Vinnie Violinist was asking in a frightened whisper. "That terrible thing—" their voice shook violently as the memory clearly returned to show again the horror they had witnessed. "Matilda, Where are we?” their voice was growing in strength with terror “What-- Mickey? Where did you— And the Adelaide— where is it?"

Mickey turned slowly toward them. The horrific turmoil of the past hour had suddenly numbed xallix brain, stunned xalv.

"The Adelaide—" xal mumbled, and groped fumblingly for coherent thoughts. Xal stared at the enban. They were half-risen from the floor where Minnie had laid them, supported by their friends, and the sight of their quivering face brought reason again to xallix mind. Xal knelt tenderly beside them and raised them in xallix arms, the others releasing them trustingly as Minnie came over to join the desperate embrace.

"Where is the yacht?" Vinnie repeated. "The Adelaide?"

"Gone," Minnie told them despairingly. "Lost!"

A thought struck Mickey "Was your god-father on board, Vinnie?"

Vinnie was clearly dazed.

"Lost," they repeated. "The Adelaide—lost!... No," they added in belated response to Mickey's question. "He was not there. But the rest of the crew—Captain MacPherson ... that horrible monster...." they buried their face in their hands as they realized what Mickey's silence meant. Their friends folded in around the three of them and those who were still unconcious, and Mickey was comforted by it. Xal needed some reminder that xal was still alive.

Supported by the group hug, xal did xal part to hold Vinnie’s trembling figure upright as they whispered: "Where are we? Are we safe?"

"We may win through yet," xal told them through grim, set lips. Mickey realized abruptly that xal was seeing the face of Vinnie Vincent in the light. Xal had left a lantern burning!

Mickey withdrew xalexir from the hug as quick as xal could and sprang to put out the tell-tale light. In darkness and quiet was their only safety. But xal knew as xal sprang back to the illusion of safety with the others that xal had waited too long as a soft body crashed heavily on the deck outside.

There was nothing but silence and heartbeats in the dark where they all crouched waiting—waiting.

A luminous something was glowing outside the cabin. It searched and prodded about the deserted deck to whip upward with the audible hiss of wet carbide. Another appeared; the rifle came carefully, silently over Mickey’s shoulder as a pair of jaws gaped glowingly beyond the windows and an eye stared unblinkingly from its hornlike sheath.

Suddenly it crashed madly against the walls of the wireless room to shatter the glass and make kindling of the woodwork of the windowpane, sending gasps and cries of terror from everyone in the room. Mickey fired once, and then had to fire again before the specter vanished, but xal knew with sickening certainty that these wounds, however painful for the beast, were only messages to some central brain that would send other ravening tentacles against them.

But the oak bars had held.

For now.

Minnie reached in the brief interval for the key, and began sending out frantic calls for help. Xal strained xallix ears, hoping to hear some faint, friendly word of hope from the headset that Minnie didn’t even bother to put on.

"—rocket," the wireless operator was suddenly saying. "Fire rockets. We can't find—" A swift, writhing arm wrapped crushingly about the cabin, drowning out the rest of the message.

Mickey fired into the gray mass that bulged with terrible muscular contractions through the window, and then fired again to aim lengthways of the arm and inflict as damaging a wound as xallix weapon would permit.

The first arm relaxed, but a score of others took up the attack. Again the sickening stench was about them as gaping jaws gleamed fiery beneath the hateful eyes and tore at the flimsy structure. Mickey jammed more cartridges into the gun and fired again and again and again, while Minnie leapt forward and fumbled for the rockets that Brent had given them. The other survivors were huddled in the center of the floor, squeezing together in a desperate bid for safety.

Minnie lighted one rocket with trembling fingers while Mickey kept firing with xallix rifle, and the first ball shot straight into a waiting mouth. Another ignited a searing flame of acetlylene gas where a wet arm writhed in the hot carbide trail. Then, in a move that almost stopped Mickey’s heart with horror, Minnie jumped forward and leaned far out through the broken window to aim the rocket at the sky.

The red flares streamed upward high into the air, lighting up the deck and the writhing tentacles in blood red, then Mickey pulled nova back through the window in sheer terror.

A mass of undeterred, enraged muscle crashed against the door, which went to splinters under the impact, and only the two oak bars remained to hold in check the horrible tentacles and the darting heads. One beak forced its way between the bars. The oak gave under the strain as Mickey pulled vainly at the trigger of the suddenly nonfunctioning gun.

Behind xalv rose shrieks of terror as the monstrous thing came on, and Mickey, in xallix terror, began to beat with frantic fury with the clubbed end of rifle at the fleshy snout. Then someone else joined in, bashing at the nose with a smashed piece of chair, screaming wordlessly, and Minnie jumped forward, slashing madly with novas sword, opening lines of deep wounds that glistened wetly in the blood-red light of the flares.

Then there was a rush of movement behind xalv in the dark, and Mickey Mouse-Mallaire smiled grimly in the numbing horror as xal realized that Vinnie Violinist was beside xalv now, and the other concious survivors beside them.

A piece of oak was in Vinnie’s hands, and they were striking with desperate and silent fury at the slimy flesh, while the others did the same, roaring now with fury as well as fear.

But despite the grievous wounds it was receiving, the monster did not recoil or retreat, seeming to shrug off this vicious show of solidarity like they were not even there. Not even Minnie’s sword deterred it. The hard flesh around the tentacles were apparently much less sensitive than the inside of the mouth.

It was the end, Mickey knew, and suddenly xal was glad. The nightmare was over, and the end was coming with xallix favorite people beside xalv. But Mickey Mouse-Mallaire was fighting on to the last, and xal tried to make xallix blows reach outward to the hateful devilish eye.

Mickey could suddenly see it plainly now, for the deck was abruptly flooded by a glare of blindingly white light. Xal saw the eye and the thick arm behind it, and the score of others that made a heaving, knotted mass that was brilliant and wetly shining. Xal could see now how best to strike, and xal turned xallix gun to thrust the barrel end at the glaring eye.

It withdrew violently before this strike—the jaws slid backward to the deck. There were new sounds that hammered suddenly at xallix ears. "The guns! The guns!" a woman’s familiar voice was screaming. Across the deck, where a search-light played, huge arms were lashing backward toward the sea. The waves beyond had vanished where a monstrous body shone wetly black in a blinding glare.

And Mickey hung panting, helpless, on the one remaining bar across the doorway to look where, beyond, her forward guns a spitting stream of staccato flashes, the Bennington tore the waves to high-thrown spray. Her four clean funnels swung far over as the slim ship, with her stabbing, crashing guns, swung in a sweeping circle to bear down upon the black bulk slowly sinking in the search-light's glare.

The vast body had vanished as the destroyer shot like one of her own projectiles over the spot where the beast had lain. And then, where she had passed, the sea arose in a heaving mound. The Nagasaki Maru beneath the feet of the watching survivors shuddered again as another depth charge roared its challenge to the master of the deeps.

The warship went careening on an arc to return and throw the full glare of her search-lights on the scene. They lighted a vast sea, strangely stilled. An oily smoothness leveled waves and ironed them out to show more clearly the convulsions of a torn mass that rose slowly into sight.

Mickey suddenly way found xalexir outside the cabin with no recollection of moving there. And xal knew that Minnie and Vinnie were again beside xalv as xal stared and stared at what the waters held.

A bloated serpent form beyond believing was struggling in the greasy swell. Its waving tentacles again were flung aloft in impotent fury, and, beneath them, where their thick ends jointed the body, a head with one horrible eye rose into the air. A thick-lipped mouth gaped open, and the gleam of molars shone white in the blinding glare.

The twisting body shuddered throughout its vast bulk, and the waving arms and futile staring eyes dropped helpless into the splashing sea. Again the revolting head was raised as the destroyer sent a rain of shells into its fearful mass. Once more the oily seas were calm. They closed over the whirling vortex where a denizen of the lightless depths was returning to those distant, subterranean caverns—returning as food for what other voracious monsters might still exist.

Mickey was enveloped in a hug with Minnie and Vinnie, all of them trembling anew in a fresh reaction from the horror they had escaped, when a small boat drew alongside, shining a spotlight on them.

"They're safe!" a hoarse voice bellowed back to the destroyer, and a lemuran came climbing up a rope where they had launched the lifeboat.

And now, as one in a dream, Mickey allowed Minnie and Vinnie to be gently taken from xalv, to be lowered to the waiting boat, while other soldiers came up to help xalv, and, when they realized their presence, the other survivors, who were trickling hesitantly out of the wireless room. Mickey clambered down with the help of the sailors, suddenly finding xallix limbs weak and shaking, and it was with a dreadful silence that they were all rowed across to the destroyer.

"Thank God!" shouted down Brent, as he met them at the rail. "You're safe, old enby ... and M. Mallaire, Mx. Violinist,... all of you! You let off that rocket just in time; we couldn't pick you up with our light—” He stopped suddenly, and added instead, "And now we're going back; back to San Diego at full speed. The Admiral wants a word of mouth report."

Mickey stilled him with a heavy gesture. “Just let me go to sleep.” xal said dully. "Let me forget ... forget!... Good God, can we ever forget—" Xal stumbled forward, heedless of Brent's arm across xallix shoulders, while a swarm of surgeon’s assistants descended upon them all.

- - -

Admiral Pete Struthers, U.Q.N., leaned back from his desk and blew a cloud of smoke thoughtfully toward the ceiling. He looked silently from Mickey and Minnie to Commander Brent.

"If either one of you had come to me with such a report," he said finally, "I would have found it incredible; I would have thought you were entirely insane, or trying some wild hoax."

"I wish it were a damn lie," said Mickey quietly. "I wish I didn't have to believe it." There were new lines about the black eyes behind those glasses, lines that spoke what the lips would not confess -- of sleepless nights and the impress of a picture xal could not erase. Minnie fared no better.

"Well, we have kept it out of the papers," said the Admiral stiffly, uncomfortable with the clear trauma the two had faced. "Said it was a derelict, and the wild messages floating about were from an inexperienced man, frightened and irresponsible. Bad advertising—very—for the passenger lines."

"Quite," Commander Brent agreed, trying to inject some lightheartedness into the room, "but of course Mvr. Mouse-Mallaire-Violinist and M. Mallaire-Mouse-Violinist may want to use this in their next book of travel. They have earned the right without doubt."

"I won’t stay silent on this, Admiral." Mickey said tiredly, "I told you, Brent, there was often a factual basis for fables—remember? Well, we have proved that. And its time this myth was brought forward as the truth. Studying these creatures is the only way we can protect others in the future--" A light step sounded in the corridor beyond, interrupting xallix thought.

Everyone rose politely as Vinnie Violinist-Mallaire-Mouse entered the room.

"Ah, welcome! You’ve reminded me," said the Admiral with an engaging smile, "of the matter of a certain bet. Mvr. Mouse-Mallaire-Violinist — congratulations, by the way — has won handily, and xal has taught me a lesson."

He took a check book from his desk. "What charity would you like to name, Vinnie? That was left to you, you remember."

"Send it to a group of marine biologists who will be willing to study those creatures." said Vinnie gravely. "You will know who best to choose, if you two are really serious about that silly bet."

"That bet, my dear," said Mickey, now with smiling eyes despite their tiredness, "was very serious…”

Minnie added, moving forward to land a kiss on Vinnie’s cheek, “And it has had most serious consequences."

Vinnie blushed and smiled.

There were papers on the desk, a litter of papers scrawled over, in the careless writing of indifferent students, with the symbols of chemistry and long mathematical computations. The man at the desk pushed them aside to rest his lean, lined face on one thin hand. The other arm, ending at the wrist, was on the desk before him.

Students of a great university had long since ceased to speculate about the missing hand. The result of an experiment, they knew—a hand that was a mass of lifeless cells, amputated quickly that the living arm might be saved—but that was some several years ago, ancient history to those who came and went through Professor Eddinger's class room.

And now Professor Eddinger was weary—weary and old, he told himself—as he closed his eyes to shut out the sight of the interminable papers and the stubby wrist that had ended forever his experiments and the delicate manipulations which only he could do.

He reached slowly for a buzzing phone, but his eyes brightened at the voice that came to him.

"I've got it—I've got it!" The words were almost incoherent. "This is Avery, Professor—Avery! You must come at once. You will share in it; I owe it all to you ... you will be the first to see ... I am sending a taxi for you—"

Professor Eddinger's tired eyes crinkled to a smile. Enthusiasm like this was rare among his youngsters. But Avery—with the face of a poet, a dreamer's eyes and the mind of a scientist—good boy, Avery!—a long time since he had seen him—had him in his own laboratory for two years....

"What's this all about?" he asked.

"No—no!" said a voice; "I can't tell you—it is too big—greater than the induction motor—greater than the electric light—it is the greatest thing in the world. The taxi should be there now—you must come—"

A knock at the office door where a voice said, "Car for Professor Eddinger," confirmed the excited words.

"I'll come," said the Professor, "right away."

He pondered, as the car whirled him across the city, on what this greatest thing in the world might be. And he hoped with gentle skepticism that the enthusiasm was warranted. A young man opened the car door as they stopped. His face was flushed, Eddinger noted, hair pushed back in disarray, his shirt torn open at the throat.

"Wait here," he told the driver and took the Professor by the arm to hurry him into a dilapidated building.

"Not much of a laboratory," he said, "but we'll have better, you and I; we'll have better—"

The room seemed bare with its meager equipment, but it was neat, as became the best student of Professor Eddinger. Rows of reagent bottles stood on the shelves, but the tables were a litter of misplaced instruments and broken glassware where trembling hands had fumbled in heedless excitement.

"Glad to see you again, Avery." The gentle voice of Professor Eddinger had lost its tired tone. "It's been two years you've been working, I judge. Now what is this great discovery, boy? What have you found?"

The younger man, in whose face the color came and went, and whose eyes were shining from dark hollows that marked long days and sleepless nights, still clung to the other's arm.

"It's real," he said; "it's great! It means fortune and fame, and you're in on that, Professor. The old master," he said and clapped a hand affectionately upon a thin shoulder; "I owe it all to you. And now I have—I have learned.... No, you shall see for yourself. Wait—"

He crossed quickly to a table. On it was an apparatus; the eyes of the older man widened as he saw it. It was intricate—a maze of tubing. There was a glass bulb above—the generator of a cathode ray, obviously—and electro-magnets below and on each side. Beneath was a crude sphere of heavy lead—a retort, it might be—and from this there passed two massive, insulated cables. The understanding eyes of the Professor followed them, one to a terminal on a great insulating block upon the floor, the other to a similarly protected terminal of carbon some feet above it in the air.

The trembling fingers of the young man made some few adjustments, then he left the instrument to take his place by an electric switch. "Stand back," he warned, and closed the switch.

There was a gentle hissing from within glass tubes, the faint glow of a blue-green light. And that was all, until—with a crash like the ripping crackle of lightning, a white flame arced between the terminals of the heavy cables. It hissed ceaselessly through the air where now the tang of ozone was apparent. The carbon blocks glowed with a brilliant incandescence when the flame ceased with the motion of a hand where Avery pulled a switch.

The man's voice was quiet now. "You do not know, yet, what you have seen, but there was a tremendous potential there—an amperage I can't measure with my limited facilities." He waved a deprecating hand about the ill-furnished laboratory. "But you have seen—" His voice trembled and failed at the forming of the words.

"—The disintegration of the atom," said Professor Eddinger quietly, "and the release of power unlimited. Did you use thorium?" he inquired.

The other looked at him in amazement. Then: "I should have known you would understand," he said humbly. "And you know what it means"—again his voice rose—"power without end to do the work of the world—great vessels driven a lifetime on a mere ounce of matter—a revolution in transportation—in living...." He paused. "The liberation of mankind," he added, and his voice was reverent. "This will do the work of the world: it will make a new heaven and a new earth! Oh, I have dreamed dreams," he exclaimed, "I have seen visions. And it has been given to me—me!—to liberate man from the curse of Adam ... the sweat of his brow.... I can't realize it even yet. I—I am not worthy...."

He raised his eyes slowly in the silence to gaze in wondering astonishment at the older man. There was no answering light, no exaltation on the lined face. Only sadness in the tired eyes that looked at him and through him as if focused upon something in a dim future—or past.

"Don't you see?" asked the wondering man. "The freedom of men—the liberation of a race. No more poverty, no endless, grinding labor." His young eyes, too, were looking into the future, a future of blinding light. "Culture," he said, "instead of heart-breaking toil, a chance to grow mentally, spiritually; it is another world, a new life—" And again he asked: "Surely, you see?"

"I see," said the other; "I see—plainly."

"The new world," said Avery. "It—it dazzles me; it rings like music in my ears."

"I see no new world," was the slow response.

The young face was plainly perplexed. "Don't you believe?" he stammered. "After you have seen ... I thought you would have the vision, would help me emancipate the world, save it—" His voice failed.

"Men have a way of crucifying their saviors," said the tired voice.

The inventor was suddenly indignant. "You are blind," he said harshly; "it is too big for you. And I would have had you stand beside me in the great work.... I shall announce it alone.... There will be laboratories—enormous!—and factories. My invention will be perfected, simplified, compressed. A generator will be made—thousands of horsepower to do the work of a city, free thousands of men—made so small you can hold it in one hand."

The sensitive face was proudly alight, proud and a trifle arrogant. The exaltation of his coming power was strong upon him.

"Yes," said Professor Eddinger, "in one hand." And he raised his right arm that he might see where the end of a sleeve was empty.

"I am sorry," said the inventor abruptly; "I didn't mean ... but you will excuse me now; there is so much to be done—" But the thin figure of Professor Eddinger had crossed to the far table to examine the apparatus there.

"Crude," he said beneath his breath, "crude—but efficient!"

In the silence a rat had appeared in the distant corner. The Professor nodded as he saw it. The animal stopped as the man's eyes came upon it; then sat squirrellike on one of the shelves as it ate a crumb of food. Some morsel from a hurried lunch of Avery's, the Professor reflected—poor Avery! Yes, there was much to be done.

He spoke as much to himself as to the man who was now beside him. "It enters here," he said and peered downward toward the lead bulb. He placed a finger on the side of the metal. "About here, I should think.... Have you a drill? And a bit of quartz?"

The inventor's eyes were puzzled, but the assurance of his old instructor claimed obedience. He produced a small drill and a fragment like broken glass. And he started visibly as the one hand worked awkwardly to make a small hole in the side of the lead. But he withdrew his own restraining hand, and he watched in mystified silence while the quartz was fitted to make a tiny window and the thin figure stooped to sight as if aiming the opening toward a far corner where a brown rat sat upright in earnest munching of a dry crust.

The Professor drew Avery with him as he retreated noiselessly from the instrument. "Will you close the switch," he whispered.

The young man hesitated, bewildered, at this unexpected demonstration, and the Professor himself reached with his one hand for the black lever. Again the arc crashed into life, to hold for a brief instant until Professor Eddinger opened the switch.

"Well," demanded Avery, "what's all the show? Do you think you are teaching me anything—about my own instrument?" There was hurt pride and jealous resentment in his voice.

"See," said Professor Eddinger quietly. And his one thin hand pointed to a far shelf, where, in the shadow, was a huddle of brown fur and a bit of crust. It fell as they watched, and the "plop" of the soft body upon the floor sounded loud in the silent room.

"The law of compensation," said Professor Eddinger. "Two sides to the medal! Darkness and light—good and evil—life ... and death!"

The young man was stammering. "What do you mean?—a death ray evolved?" And: "What of it?" he demanded; "what of it? What's that got to do with it?"

"A death ray," the other agreed. "You have dreamed, Avery—one must in order to create—but it is only a dream. You dreamed of life—a fuller life—for the world, but you would have given them, as you have just seen, death."

The face of Avery was white as wax; his eyes glared savagely from dark hollows.

"A rat!" he protested. "You have killed a rat ... and you say—you say—" He raised one trembling hand to his lips to hold them from forming the unspeakable words.

"A rat," said the Professor—"or a man ... or a million men."

"We will control it."

"All men will have it—the best and the worst ... and there is no defence."

"It will free the world—"

"It will destroy it."

"No!"—and the white-faced man was shouting now—"you don't understand—you can't see—"

The lean figure of the scientist straightened to its full height. His eyes met those of the younger man, silent now before him, but Avery knew the eyes never saw him; they were looking far off, following the wings of thought. In the stillness the man's words came harsh and commanding—

"Do you see the cities," he said, "crumbling to ruins under the cold stars? The fields? They are rank with wild growth, torn and gullied by the waters; a desolate land where animals prowl. And the people—the people!—wandering bands, lower, as the years drag on, than the beasts themselves; the children dying, forgotten, in the forgotten lands; a people to whom the progress of our civilization is one with the ages past, for whom there is again the slow, toiling road toward the light.

"And somewhere, perhaps, a conquering race, the most brutal and callous of mankind, rioting in their sense of power and dragging themselves down to oblivion...."

His gaze came slowly back to the room and the figure of the man still fighting for his dream.

"They would not," said Avery hoarsely; "they'd use it for good."

"Would they?" asked Professor Eddinger. He spoke simply as one stating simple facts. "I love my fellow men," he said, "and I killed them in thousands in the last war—I, and my science, and my poison gas."

The figure of Avery slumped suddenly upon a chair; his face was buried in his hands. "And I would have been," he groaned, "the greatest man in the world."

"You shall be greater," said the Professor, "though only we shall know it—you and I.... You will save the world—from itself."

The figure, bowed and sunken in the chair, made no move; the man was heedless of the kindly hand upon his shoulder. His voice, when he spoke, was that of one afar off, speaking out of a great loneliness. "You don't understand," he said dully; "you can't—"

But Professor Eddinger, a cog in the wheels of a great educational machine, glanced at the watch on his wrist. Again his thin shoulders were stooped, his voice tired. "My classes," he said. "I must be going...."

In the gathering dusk Professor Eddinger locked carefully the door of his office. He crossed beyond his desk and fumbled with his one hand for his keys.

There was a cabinet to be opened, and he stared long in the dim light at the object he withdrew. He looked approvingly at the exquisite workmanship of an instrument where a generator of the cathode ray and an intricate maze of tubing surmounted electro-magnets and a round lead bulb. There were terminals for attaching heavy cables; it was a beautiful thing.... His useless arm moved to bring an imaginary hand before the window of quartz in the lead sphere.

"Power," he whispered and repeated Avery's words; "power, to build a city—or destroy a civilization ... and I hold it in one hand."

He replaced the apparatus in the safety of its case. "The saviors of mankind!" he said, and his tone was harsh and bitter.

But a smile, whimsical, kindly, crinkled his tired eyes as he turned to his desk and its usual litter of examination papers.