Evening Republican, Volume 22, Number 136, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 June 1919 — The Deep Sea Peril [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Deep Sea Peril

By VICTOR ROUSSEAU

(Copyright by W. G. Ch»pmaa>

CHAPTER Xll—Continued. “She went inside the cave, I think," said Davies. “Yes, rm sure of It.” answered Donald; and he entered farther into its recesses, calling “Ida ! Ida !” They began to be alarmed. They hurried from point to point. The cave was a wide one, but tapered, some distance back, into the neck of a bottle. It seemed evident that Ida could not have gone farther than this point. “Run back. Davies, and see if she can’t be outside,” said Donald. And, while he called, Davies took up the search without. Donald waited in , terror. He did not dare go farther 1 into the cave just then. Ten minutes later Davies returned. A glance at his*?ace told that his mission had been entirely fruitless. They looked at each other. “There's light ahead,” said Davies. They proceeded cautiously, and suddenly they came upon a little entrance leading up from the sea. Close by was the point around which Macßeard had disappeared in his motorboat. Davies saw Donald shaking with mixed terror and rage. He stared out hopelessly toward the sea. Then, brushing past Davies without a word, he almost ran into the bottle neck of the interior. The middy followed him. The ground grew damp, the floor seemed to descend abruptly. Davies could hardly keep his feet. All at once he heard Donald’s muffled voice calling to him. He saw the spurt of a match flame. Ten paces farther Donald pulled him back as his foot slipped on the ■edge of a precipice. Donald struck another match and looked down. Under them was the level of the ocean bed. They were upon the very verge of a precipitous descent, a sheer wall having, however, natural footholds at regular Intervals. Something white fluttering near drew their attention. Donald picked it up and held it out It was a woman’s handkerchief. “She slipped here—” began the little - middy, but Donald took the words from his mouth. “No!” he cried furiously. “She was caught in the cave by that d d scoundrel Macßeard, He put his boat in at the tiny cove and came on her from behind. And he’s taken her—my God, he’s taken her . . . That’s her message to me, that •handkerchief. ...” His voice grew incoherent and he broke down. Then he raised it in furious declamation. “But I’ll follow that cur until I die!” be swore. “I may not rescue her—l don’t know, Davies, and I hardly dare to hope. But I’ll stay here and give my life—” He broke off suddenly, a spasm passed across his features, and all at once he became completely calm once more. “No, I won’t, Davies,” he said. “It’s my duty now to fly to England with all speed. You’ll stay here and do what you can. It may be very little, old man, but we mustn’t think of anything but our jobs.” ’ \ . “No, sir,” said Davies. There was nothing more to be done but prepare for the journey. Donald felt reasonably sure that the F 55 was safe against the herd. The terrific upward pressure of the night had not started a rivet; lying as she was upon the beach, she was unassailable. They filled her oil-tanks and carried the stores aboard. Then Donald filled the gasoline tank of the hydroplane, end, entering, made a short trial flight out to sea and back. The machine was in perfect condition. A grasp of the hand, and Donald was gone upon his journey. From his post in the conning tower Davies watched the hydroplane rise and fall to the. wind, and sweep into the distance, to dwindle and disappear. CHAPTER XIII. The Ewarming of the Herd. Davies had correctly divined the secret of the air under the sea. Nature, who does nothing in haste, had prepared the sea monsters for their change of environment by bestowing upon them the property of condensing the hydrogen in the water in such a manner as to separate it from the other constituent of water —oxygen. But, being too unstable to exist as a separate gas, except under high pressure, the oxygen combined with the nitrogen that sustained the crinoids and other plant life at the bottom of the sea. The resulting combination was oxygen and nitrogen in place of oxygen and hydrogen, or air in lieu of ... water. Masterman. who overlooked nothing, had explained all this in his letter to Donald. 'He had also told him of the means of controlling the sea monsters. Their auditory apparatus being still in its most rudimentary stage, they heard sounds only as vibrations. Masterman had discovered, during those weeks of exploration and imminent danger, that G was the signal for dispersal. A, on the contrary, was the tsseinbly call. The-, sacrificial bone knife vibrated to the sound of A, and

it was this which had given the herd the key-tone of their language. Unfortunately for Macßeard. he had been unable to learn much more than this. The last page of the manuscript, as well as the first, was missing. MacBeard was sure that Donald.had kept possession of them. Had he possessed them, he would have learned that the power of utteringthese ealls rested-with the queen of the swarm alone, a human organism, the type of the race toward which the monsters tended, differentiating from them as the queen bee differs from the worker or the drone. He had discovered that the search for food was the one purpose of the creatures’ existence. It had assumed a religious aspect. Their god, their altar stone, the sacrificial rite were all the soul’s instinctive groping upward. based upon the dominating animal impulse. The tune that Clouts had played, with its discords, had been the deepsea equivalent of an artillery salvo. The terrified monsters had dispersed In all direetionsr-lettlng down the- curtain of condensed hydrogen. Fortunately for the professor, the main portion of the herd had kept together, and this afforded him a medium in which he could, with difficulty, breathe. But their rapid movement kept the hydrogen stirred up, and he was nearly asphyxiated before he reached his refuge within the cave. He did not like inhaling carbonated jelly. Seeing Donald and Davies upon the island, he had attempted to open negotiations with them. Repulsed, he fled in terror, and on rounding the point saw Ida. alone at the cave’s mouth. At once his scheme was horn in his mind. Pushing ashore, he entered the cave by the narrow way toward the rear. He came upon Ida suddenly, and grasping her in his arms, he placed one hand over her mouth, preventing her frorn crying for aid. Then, dragging her to the top of the precipice, he sounded the assembly call. Instantly the water beneatlr be’gan to dissolve. Thick clouds of steaming hydrogen rolled up to the cave’s roof. Soon there was a natural passage, three hundred feet deep, from the interior of the cave to the crater below. He carried Ida down the descent. The girl, who had contrived to. drop her handkerchief, was no match for the professor. She screamed once or twice, but the echoes of the cavern absorbed the sound of her voice. And so she found herself again within the submarine temple. Macßeard released her and stood in front of her, devouring her with his gaze. He could not understand whence this novel emotion in his heart derived its power; and, now that she was his captive, he did not know what to do. Geometry, physics, mathematics and the calculus all failed to help solve his problem.

Overcome by the presence of the woman he loved, the professor stam-j mered like a youth with his first sweetheart. have you brought me here?” asked Ida. “feecause—because I —er—l love you,” answered Macßeard. Ida burst into iroqical laughter. The situation was so impossible that there was room,for no emotion but amusement And in that laugh the professor felt a thousand arrows of jealousy rend him. “Listen to me!" he exclaimed passionately. “You don’t know who I am or what lam trying to do. lam going to obliterate the earth, as it is known to you. I command the Man of the Future. The Man who is to come. The new race of the sea, which is to sweep away the puny monkey-man. And I want you to share my power with me.” Ida laughed hysterically. She could not help herself. Macßeard glared at her. He did not know what to do. “You shall see!” he cried, beside himself with anger. “You don’t believe what I tell you? Til prove it* “It doesn’t make any difference, professor. I am not a blackboard,” answered Ida. “Will you kindly take me back to the place you brought me from?” “No!” shouted Macßeard. “You’ll stay here until you learn to love me. Why can’t you love me?” Ida’s look was touched with* pity. She did not answer him. Macßeard sounded his timing fork, and immediately the monsters gathered about them. The hydrogen haze rolled higher, disclosing the entire interior of the cave, and the idol. MacBeard sounded another fork, and the creatures began edging Ida toward the recesses of the cave. “If I sound the sacrificial note you die,” snorted Macßeard. Ida. perfectly passive, waited. The monsters guarded the entrance. She was. alone. Outside Macßeard paced up and down beneath the sea in fury. He had encountered a problem which seemed Insoluble. As Ida waited; all at once a most remarkable object broke upon her gaze. Advancing through the midst of the luminous, vague monsters outside the entrance there came a perfectly huipan figure, a man with a square beard. i

He passed through the monsters without the slightest difficulty and entered the cave. He was walking exactly as a boy walks when he drives a flock of geese qr a herd of pigs; that Is to say, there was a straddle in his step quite different from the rolling gait of a sailor, and he had his arms extended. With his lips he made a hissing sound which resembled “Shoo!** And in front of him, retiring backward. Ida thought she saw a phantom woman’s form. But it must have been a delusion, because it was only by straining her eyes that she could discern anything at all; and now and again the figure seemed to vanish into the air. - The man was Clouts. As he passed her, Ida called to him. Clouts jumped. He looked at her with a comical expression of fear on his face. “Clouts! Where is Donald? Can you get me out of here? Take me to him at once!” Clouts looked terrified. “Certainly, marjn,” he said. “But that isn’t nobody. ’ There’s all sorts of shapes and things here, but it isn’t a real person, inarm. I’m telling you this so you’ll understand, marm.” He hastened past her, and, far ahead of him, Ida discerned the shadowy shape of the queen. “Clouts! Help me! You aren’t going to leave me?” cried Ida pitifully. She heard Clouts’ muttering tones come back to her, and he was lost in the hydrogen haze. She was astounded at bls abandonment. Hadn’t he understood t To do the sailor justice, Clouts had one of those minds which are open to only a single impression at a time. Just then his mind was open to the necessity of keeping Donald’s elusive sweetheart from Ida’s knowledge. He could see only the faintest luminosity now, and he stood with his arms stretched out to prevent her slipping past him. Suddenly he heard a singularly melodious sound proceeding from her throat. It was a note unknown even to MacBeard. It was, in fact, the demi-semi-tone between G sharp and A, which is

unknown to the Bach scale, though the bagpipes and Oriental music in general are acquainted with these subdivisions. It was the swarming note. The queen was ready to lead the brood forth upon its adventures. The spirit, emanating from her, made itself felt simultaneously throughout the herd. Instantly, from all quarters of the crater, the monsters rushed together. The hydrogen haze rolled far away. The ocean opened to its summit. Ida could see the sky above her, and the daylight. The air became surcharged with oxygen. Macßeard, amazed by this development, rushed in. He sounded the dispersal. But the swarming note took precedence of the dispersal, and the monsters, gathering into a gigantic circle, ignoring the professor’s call, began to scurry wildly about the crater, seeking their leader. Macßeard saw that the creatures were beyond his control. For the first time his tuning forks had failed him. He was afraid of being torn in pieces. And up cave Sam Clouts found himself engaged in the most rious tussle that he had ever known. (TO BE CONTINUED.)

“You Don’t Believe What I Tell You? I’ll Prove It."