Robert Moore Williams

“ He would have lived nearer if he could have found a room. In fact, for one deliriously happy month, he had slept on a cot in the basement of the museum. Then Sharp, the thin-faced business manager who had charge of the property and the finances, had caught him and given him the bounce.
"Malone, get the hell out of here," Sharp said. "Of all the damned fools we have around here, you are probably the worst. I should think you would get enough archeology just by spending fourteen hours a day here."
"Aw, hell, I'm not hurting anything. Why can't I sleep here if I want to?" Rocks had answered. ”

“ Rocks Malone stood without moving, listening to the operator repeat his message. He could scarcely conceive the meaning of the words. "Over three hundred people dead—" Dim pictures flashed to his mind. Out of nowhere, out of nothingness, silence had come. Three hundred people had died. Before they knew what struck them, death had washed over them. Millions of microscopic needles had plunged through their bodies, points of agonizing pain. Then death—
Jerkily, the telephone rang. ”

“ Rocks was so sunk in grief that he scarcely noticed the men who lifted all that was mortal of the old archeologist on to a stretcher.
Kennedy came to him and said sympathetically. "Don't take it so hard, Malone. Morton, I guess, was a friend of yours."
Rocks told the detective what the archeologist had meant to him. Kennedy's eyes softened. "I'm sorry, Malone. We'll do everything we can to discover what happened, but frankly I don't know which way to turn. I've been talking on the phone to some of the men who are in charge of the museum. McCumber was one, Sharp was another. ”

“ Rocks whispered.
Kennedy exploded. "He needed money, needed it bad. I dug this all up in my investigation today. He was trying to sell the weapon he had discovered to the agents of a foreign power. They wanted a demonstration before they would pay off. So he gave them a demonstration. He showed them how efficient a weapon he had for sale—by killing all the people in a theater."
The detective was furiously angry. "And I let myself get taken in by a story of a monster."
Rocks had already picked up the instrument Sharp had found in that box. ”

“ Death came out of a box and stalked through the streets of Chicago.
Samuel Morton found the box in Asia Minor, in a niche in the tomb of a forgotten Sumerian king, and not being able to open it, brought it back to this country with him. Morton was an archeologist, on the staff of the Asia Museum, located in South Chicago. ”

“ He went to meet her. She flew to his arms. "It's awful outside," she whispered. "Thousands of people must have heard the news broadcast. Half of them are trying to get to the theater where all those people were killed. The others are trying to get away. Oh, Rocks, have you discovered anything."
He shook his head. She looked again at his unshaven, haggard face, and said nothing.
He went back to the notes Morton had left. With Penny helping, he went through them, down to the last page. "It's no use," he groaned. "Morton didn't know anything about the thing that was in that damned box." ”

“ Penny tried to think, and tried not to.
Rocks talked to Kennedy. The burly detective said, "If this was an ordinary murder, I would know how to handle it. The first thing we always look for is the motive. When we find that, we've got the killer. But there's no motive here—there's not anything. Frankly, Malone, I'm up a tree. We've got to find that thing, and destroy it, quickly. Supposing it should start wandering loose through the streets of Chicago—" The detective shuddered. ”

“ McCumber said. The old archeologist had arrived a few minutes after the business manager. He had received the news of the death of his associate calmly but it was obvious that he was deeply affected. He and Morton had been fellow workers for more than forty years. Now Morton was dead, and McCumber's sorrow was too deep for expression. It didn't show on his face. But when he entered the basement, he leaned rather heavily on his granddaughter's arm. Penny, who always drove his car for him, had driven him down. ”

“ What did you find in that box, Sharp!"
His words were hard and flat. There was no mistaking their challenge.
Behind him he heard Penny whisper. "Oh, Rocks—"
He knew he had made a mistake. He should have waited, let the law handle the situation, let men trained for the task do the job. But Morton had been his friend. And so had McCumber. And Morton and McCumber were dead. And Rocks Malone was not a man to wait for someone else to do what he considered his job. ”

“ That was the method Sharp used to kill McCumber. As they left the museum, Sharp dropped one of the bits of glass in the pocket of the old archeologist's coat. McCumber had found it, but had attached no significance to it.
The experts hope that the War Department of this country will never need such a weapon. But if it does, it will have it.
But the thing that plagues the experts, that frets the archeologists, that has caused Rocks Malone to tear his hair, is the fact that the weapon was designed to be used by a creature who had six fingers. Not five fingers. Six. ”

“ And Sharp had reported him to the board anyhow, but that august body, in view of his youth and the pathetic interest he had in archeology, had not reprimanded him. They were archeologists themselves and they knew how the science gets into the blood and bones of a man. Secretly, they had rather approved of Rocks trying to sleep in the basement, so he could be near his beloved relics of dead and gone civilizations. ”

“ The instrument that came out of the box from the tomb of the forgotten Sumerian King is now in Washington, in the secret vaults of the War Department. The experts are studying it, trying to fathom how it works. They have begun to get hints of the principle involved. Only hints, but something to go on. They have discovered that it kills in two ways. The first, and obvious way, is by pointing it directly at its victim. ”

“ Tragedy in burlesque showhouse. Over three hundred people dead. Cause of death not known. Manager went in to investigate sudden silence. Found audience and cast of show dead. Bodies livid color, as if they had been burned. ”

“ Rocks answered. He walked across the basement toward the business manager. He was ten feet away, he was five feet away. He stopped. "One thing we have discovered. Morton's notes. He said in his notes that when he opened the box he found it empty. What do you suppose he meant by that?"
Sharp looked perplexed. "Why, I have no idea. Perhaps he decided that what we saw was an illusion after all."
"I think not," Rocks contradicted. "He would certainly have mentioned any creature such as you described if he had found such a thing in the box. ”

“ Rocks felt Penny's fingers searching for his hand. Her hand slid into his. She was trembling.
The detectives were pale, their faces bloodless. How much they had really understood of Sharp's description was open to doubt. Only a mathematical physicist could have grasped all the possibilities he had opened, and the cops weren't physicists. But they were alert. One had half-drawn his run. They were warily looking around the room.
"What did you do then?" McCumber persisted.
"We naturally spent some time searching the basement. ”

“ Rocks leaped across the room to the scales, checked the weight of the box. It weighed 121 pounds. Quickly he found Morton's notes and located the weight of the box when it was first brought to the museum.
"Before it was opened it weighed an even 130 pounds," he said. "Now it only weighs 121. That proves that something came out of it."
Kennedy whistled. "Nine pounds of sudden death. Well, we don't need any proof to know that something came out of that box. We've got two dead men to prove it. ”

“ Look," the detective finished, "I'm going back to McCumber's residence and see if I can locate that piece of glass. You keep trying to crack that language."
He went out of the room on the run. The motor of the squad car howled to sudden life outside as the detective left.
Rocks expected Kennedy to return. But he didn't come back that night. He called instead. "I'm at the undertaker's. They didn't find any piece of red glass. I've been over McCumber's house with a magnifying glass. It isn't there. ”

“ Clothing falls to ashes when touched. Sergeant Kennedy of the homicide division suggests there is a definite connection between the death of these people and the death of the two Asian Museum archeologists last night. Be on the alert. Take over main intersections and prevent panic. Story already broken in general radio news flash. Cordon being thrown around the theater area. All special details canceled, all squad cars call your stations for definite orders—Be on the alert—Calling all cars—"
Death was walking through Chicago, a horrible, incredible form of death. ”