Roy J. Snell

“ It was mid-afternoon when they bade Madame LeClare and her fine family a hearty farewell.
“I wanted you to know them,” the Captain rumbled as once more they entered the great city. “You are to be one of us. You may have an opportunity to be of great service. Danger and death may threaten you. It will help you to understand the war we are waging, and why we must win.”
“Thank you,” said Johnny humbly. “I am sure it will.” ”

“ There was consternation in her tone. “Felix left that terrible thing on! How can you ever forgive us?
“But please do come in.” Her tone changed. “You came about Father’s books? How generous of you. Poor Father! His head is so full of things! He is always forgetting.”
Johnny stepped inside. The door closed itself noiselessly.
“What kind of a house of magic is this?” he asked himself. “Doors close themselves. Eyes gleam at you from the wall. You see your own skeleton in the dark!” ”

“ It was silence such as Grace Krowl had seldom experienced.
[111]
Strangely enough, at the “House of Magic” in quite another section of the city, Johnny Thompson heard that same whisper. What was stranger still, the words were not the same. From this it might surely be learned that this was, at least, not a radio broadcast.
He had fallen asleep staring at that magic ceiling that had a way of falling silently. He awoke at dawn, still staring at that ceiling. To his vast surprise, he found it now fully twenty feet above his head. “Was that way when I went to bed,” he assured himself. ”

“ The girl’s face had vanished. Something told him, however, that she was seated close by his side.
Memories, gorgeous, thrilling memories! They would be with him until he died. He and this slim, dark-haired girl had not been lovers; much more than that, very much more. They had been pals. And as pals they had shared dangers. They had dared together and had won. Drew Lane had been with them, Newton Mills too, and Tom Howe. Men there had been who would gladly have killed them. Yet, standing side by side and fighting for the good of all, they had won. ”

“ That portion of the city is not inviting, nor does it seem particularly friendly to well-dressed strangers. During the day, when the weather is fair, the cross streets swarm with men who once worked, who may work again, but who for the present stand and idly stare or wander up and down.
This night was damp and chill. The street was all but deserted. Halfway through a block a chance flash of light from a passing car revealed four well-dressed men standing at the entrance to an alley.
One look, and Johnny sprang back. The movement was purely instinctive. ”

“ Johnny added. They were on the old Fair grounds. “When you think what this place has been, so full of light and sunshine, so hilarious with the screams and shouts of jolly revelers, every corner seems to hide a ghost.”
“Yes.” Spider quickened his pace. “There’s the place where they had all those freaks—tall, skinny men, short, crooked ones, two headed, one legged—all sorts of funny and distorted humans. Gee! Johnny, what a joy to have two legs and two arms, eyes, ears and all that!” ”

“ Johnny recalled the professor’s remarks regarding the “Eye” but said nothing.
“It’s a queer place,” he told himself.
As if reading his thoughts, Felix put down his cup. “Father’s what they call an electrical wizard,” he said. “He does things no one dreams of. Enjoys it a lot, he does. So do I. But Father has a deep purpose in it all, thinks electricity may help to save the race; anyway that’s what he calls it.”
Once more he lapsed into silence. Johnny searched the dark corners of the room for peering eyes, but could find none. ”

“ BACK IN THE OLD SHACK
Johnny was not out for good. But his return to consciousness was gradual. He began to hear things dimly as in a dream. There was a certain melody and harmony about the sounds, like a pipe organ played softly at night. This was shot through at times by a loud pop-pop-crack. Had memory returned, the boy might have thought they were fighting it out over his prostrate form, those men and the police. ”

“ Outside, close to the road, a windmill stood on its tall, steel tower. From time to time the wind, giving this mill a twist, caused it to send forth a sharp, grating scream that seemed a human cry of pain.
“Boo!” Johnny whispered. “There’s something spooky about a lonely country place at night.”
[208]
A moment more and his thoughts were back with the Captain. “The wind,” he thought, “will be whistling about the corners of skyscrapers tonight. The snow will go scooting and whirling away and away just as it does among the crags of the Rockies. Cities are like that. ”

“ Johnny laughed in spite of himself. “That’s what I went over to see about.”
“Yes,” Felix grinned. “But now they’ve found us. All the honest people in that great city will want to save us. Isn’t it wonderful when you think of it?” he marveled. “So many good people in the world! So many willing to give a fellow a lift when he’s in trouble. If only we could all pull together all the time, what a world this would be!”
After that, each occupied with his own thoughts, they drifted on into the night.
A half hour later a dark bulk came stealing toward them. ”

“ He stood up, raising his hands high. “So long as God gives us breath, we’ll hunt those men until the last one of them is dead or in jail for life. For life!” His hands dropped to his side and he sank into his chair.
Then again Johnny was conscious of the low humming song, the aroma of fine food prepared by skillful hands and loving hearts—the distant scuffle of boyish feet. ”

“ Endowed with great strength, trained to the limit, with a brain like a brightly burning lamp, he was the despair of evil doers. Scarcely less effective was his team-mate, Tom Howe. Small, freckled, active as a cat, silent, full of thoughts, Tom planned, while, more often than not, Drew executed.
Joyce Mills, as you may know, had become a member of this group quite by accident. Her father, Newton Mills, after many years of distinguished service as a detective in New York, had at last fallen a prey to strong drink. Johnny and Drew had found him in Chicago drinking his life away. ”

“ The package flew from his hand. In a fair fight with one man, or even two, Johnny needed only two well-formed fists. As the third man sprang at him, he squared away to give him an uppercut under the chin that closed his jaws with the snap of a steel trap and put him out for a count of twice ten.
But at that instant something crashed down upon Johnny’s skull. The fourth member of the gang, he who had hovered in the shadows, had gone into action.
Ten minutes later when a detective threw the beam of his flashlight down that alley it fell upon a lone figure huddled against the wall. ”

“ And through his mind there flashed a thousand pictures of the bright and beautiful world he might, in ten seconds’ time, leave behind.
All this in the space of a split second, then groping madly, he found the rope with his other hand. After that began the heart-breaking task of groping in the dark with his foot for the dangling rope loop, while the muscles in his arms became burning bands of fire.
“I must win!” he whispered. “I must!”
“Johnny! Johnny Thompson!” came from above. “What has happened?” ”

“ The auctioneer had shaken his head. “Lots of folks pretty poor these days. Too bad!”
“And this,” Johnny told himself as he continued to pace the floor of that mysterious room, “is the professor’s house. Seems more like the haunts of an evil genius.”
He felt an almost irresistible desire to find his way out of the place and make a dash for it. But there were the books. He must manage to get his money back somehow. He had hoped the professor might be able to pay him the money and take the library.
“Cost hundreds of dollars in the first place, those books,” he murmured. ”

“ He took up a kerosene lamp and led the way into a second small room.
“This was our parlor. Only lit the fire on Sundays. Such Sundays as those were! Happy days, Johnny! Happy days!”
“But what’s this?” Johnny asked suddenly. “Surely this does not belong to those days.”
“No.” There was a queer look on the Captain’s face. “Fellow I know, man I would trust with my life, asked permission to put that in here.” They were looking at a two-foot wide reflector such as was to be found in Johnny’s room in the “House of Magic.” ”

“ Jack, the squarest cop that ever breathed, was dead.
“Johnny—” The Captain’s voice was deep. “Don’t ever for a moment think crime is romantic. It is not. It is dirty, rotten, selfish, beastly!
“You might think to see one of these young crooks, dressed like ‘Boul Mich’ on parade, standing before the judge, that he was just a young adventurer. He’s not. He’s a dirty dog. He’s never worked; never will. He sticks a gun in a working man’s ribs and takes his money. ”

“ I want you out here on Christmas Eve. We’ll make up a party and stay all night. Hang up our stockings just as we boys used to do. We’ll bring out Drew and Tom, Joyce Mills, Mrs. LeClare and Alice; yes, and Spider—only we’ll have a whole turkey for Spider,” he chuckled. “We—we’ll have a grand time Christmas Eve and all day Christmas. And such a dinner! I’ve bought a turkey, twenty-five pounds, Johnny. ”

“ After a considerable stay in the wilds of Michigan he had returned to the city of Chicago. On his arrival he had gone at once to the shack. The shack, on Grand Avenue, as you will know if you have read “Arrow of Fire,” was occupied by Drew Lane, a keen young city detective, and such of his friends as happened to be about.
[18]
To his great disappointment, Johnny had found the shades down, the door locked. “Must be away,” he told himself. At once he found himself all but overcome by a feeling of loneliness. Who can blame him? What is lonelier than a city where one has not a single friend? ”

“ Having moved a little, she had caught sight of a tiny brown trunk that appeared to hide behind the “solid citizen.”
“Horsehair trunk,” she whispered to herself. “Old as the hills. What must it contain?”
And then her uncle, chisel in hand, approached.
“Please!” Her cry was one almost of pain. “Are there not enough others? This little one must not have much in it. Let me look at it—alone tonight.”
Nicholas Fischer, looking into her pleading eyes, shook his head. “I am afraid you will wreck my business. You are too soft.” Nevertheless, he spared the little trunk. ”

“ Frank Morrow stared at her. Nida McFay, his assistant, joined in the stare. “Rightful owner!” Morrow repeated. “You are the rightful owner. Your uncle bought that horsehair trunk at auction for three dollars. You purchased it from him for double that amount. This Bible was in the trunk. It is yours. The law will uphold you.”
“Yes. But is the law always right? Is there not a law higher than man’s law?” ”

“ Alice looked quickly away.
“You’ll have to excuse us,” Mrs. LeClare explained after a moment of silence. “We’re in the midst of things. Make yourselves comfortable by the fire.”
Just what sort of things the ladies were in the midst of, Johnny could guess well enough. The kitchen was not too far away—one great advantage of a small house—and from it came savory odors, meat roasting, pumpkin pies baking, apple sauce simmering.
“They can cook,” said the Captain, dropping into a chair with the air of a contented dog. “These Canadian French can cook. And what workers they are, these people! ”

“ Alice murmured low, “just for one night to live as he lived, so simple, so plain, so true. To hang up our stockings, feeling that they will be filled, not by lavish hands, but by loving ones, with the simple things that only real love can find.”
“But listen!” Johnny touched her arm. “How that windmill screams! It seems a—a sort of warning. Perhaps our night will not be so serene after all. Per—”
He broke short off. From the wall where the broad reflector stood facing the open window there had come a sound.
“Like a whisper,” Johnny thought. Whisper or not, it made no sense. ”

“ Madame dropped her knitting. Joyce started so violently that the cat bounced from her lap. With an involuntary motion Drew Lane reached for his gun. “Lanan—” the whisper began, “Lanan Road, attention! Those in Captain Burns’ old home, attention!” The whisper was like a call “To Arms!”
“You are in grave danger. Grave danger! The report is just that. I can tell you no more. Be on your guard!”
The whisper ceased. The clock ticked on. From without came the hoarse scream of the rusty windmill. The black cat, walking across the floor, settled himself beside Alice among the cushions. ”

“ Losing all interest in the auction, he spent his time thinking through his unusual adventures of the night before. Closing his eyes, he seemed to see again that frightful wavering skeleton which in time he came to believe was his own. Two other skeletons he saw, one with a long-bladed knife wavering in its hand.
“I saw them later on the streets, those men,” he told himself, “only they were all dressed up in flesh and had their skins on—clothes too. It’s a queer business! Eyes staring at a fellow from the wall!” He shuddered. “Fairly gives you the creeps! ”