Astounding Stories, April, 1931

by Various

  Four Miles Within

  A COMPLETE NOVELETTE

  _By Anthony Gilmore_

  CHAPTER I

  _The Monster of Metal_

  The man hurled the empty gun at the monster.]

  [Sidenote: Far down into the earth goes a gleaming metal sphere whosepassengers are deadly enemies.]

  A strange spherical monster stood in the moonlight on the silentMojave Desert. In the ghostly gray of the sand and sage and joshuatrees its metal hide glimmered dully--an amazing object to be found onthat lonely spot. But there was only pride and anticipation in theeyes of the three people who stood a little way off, looking at it.For they had constructed the strange sphere, and were soon going toentrust their lives to it.

  "Professor," said one of them, a young man with a cheerful face and alikable grin, "let's go down now! There's no use waiting tillto-morrow. It's always dark down there, whether it's day or night uphere. Everything is ready."

  The white-haired Professor David Guinness smiled tolerantly at thespeaker, his partner, Phil Holmes. "I'm kind of eager to be off,myself," he admitted. He turned to the third person in the littlegroup, a dark-haired girl. "What do you say, Sue?"

  "Oh, let's, Father!" came the quick reply. "We'd never be able tosleep to-night, anyway. As Phil says, everything is ready."

  "Well, I guess that settles it," Professor Guinness said to the eageryoung man.

  Phil Holmes' face went aglow with anticipation. "Good!" he cried."Good! I'll skip over and get some water. It's barely possible thatit'll be hot down there, in spite of your eloquent logic to thecontrary!" And with the words he caught up a large jug standingnearby, waved his hand, said: "I'll be right back!" and set out forthe water-hole, situated nearly a mile away from their little camp.The heavy hush of the desert night settled down once more after heleft.

  * * * * *

  As his figure merged with the shadows in the distance, the elderlyscientist murmured aloud to his daughter:

  "You know, it's good to realize that my dream is about to become areality. If it hadn't been for Phil.... Or no--I really ought to thankyou, Sue. You're the one responsible for his participation!" And hesmiled fondly at the slender girl by his side.

  "Phil joined us just for the scientific interest, and for the thrillof going four miles down into the earth," she retorted at once, inspite of the blush her father saw on her face. But he did not insist.Once more he turned, as to a magnet, to the machine that was hishandiwork.

  The fifteen-foot sphere was an earth-borer--Guinness's own invention.In it he had utilized for the first time for boring purposes the newlydeveloped atomic disintegrators. Many holes equally spaced over thesphere were the outlets for the dissolving ray--most of them on thebottom and alternating with them on the bottom and sides were theoutlets of powerful rocket propulsion tubes, which would enable it torise easily from the hole it would presently blast into the earth. Asmall, tight-fitting door gave entrance to the double-walled interior,where, in spite of the space taken up by batteries and mechanisms andan enclosed gyroscope for keeping the borer on an even keel, there wasroom for several people.

  The earth-borer had been designed not so much for scientificinvestigation as the specific purpose of reaching a rich store ofradium ore buried four miles below the Guinness desert camp. Manygeologists and mining engineers knew that the radium was there, fortheir instruments had proven it often; but no one up to then knew howto get to it. David Guinness did--first. The borer had beenconstructed in his laboratory in San Francisco, then dismantled andfreighted to the little desert town of Palmdale, from whence Holmeshad brought the parts to their isolated camp by truck. Strict secrecyhad been kept. Rather than risk assistants they had done all the workthemselves.

  * * * * *

  Fifteen minutes passed by, while the slight figure of the inventorputtered about the interior of the sphere, brightly lit by adetachable searchlight, inspecting all mechanisms in preparation fortheir descent. Sue stood by the door watching him, now and thenturning to scan the desert for the returning Phil.

  It was then, startlingly sudden, that there cracked through the velvetnight the faint, distant sound of a gun. And it came from thedirection of the water-hole.

  Sue's face went white, and she trembled. Without a word her fatherstepped out of the borer and looked at her.

  "That was a gun!" he said. "Phil didn't have one with him, did he?"

  "No," Sue whispered. "And--why, there's nobody within miles of here!"

  The two looked at each other with alarm and wonder. Then, from one ofthe broken patches of scrub that ringed the space in which the borerstood, came a mocking voice.

  "Ah, you're mistaken, Sue," it affirmed. "But that was a gun."

  David Guinness jerked around, as did his daughter. The man who hadspoken stood only ten yards away, clearly outlined in the brightmoonlight--a tall, well-built man, standing quite at ease, surveyingthem pleasantly. His smile did not change when old Guinness cried:

  "Quade! James Quade!"

  The man nodded and came slowly forward. He might have been consideredhandsome, had it not been for his thin, mocking lips and a swarthycomplexion.

  "What are you doing here?" demanded Guinness angrily. "And what do youmean--'it was a gun?' Have you--"

  "Easy, easy--one thing at a time," said Quade, still smiling. "Aboutthe gun--well, your young friend Holmes said, he'd be right back, butI--I'm afraid he won't be."

  * * * * *

  Sue Guinness's lips formed a frightened word:

  "Why?"

  Quade made a short movement with his left hand, as is brushing thequery aside. "Let's talk about something more pleasant," he said, andlooked back at the professor. "The radium, and your borer, forinstance. I hear you're all ready to go down."

  David Guinness gasped. "How did you know--?" he began, but a surge ofanger choked him, and his fists clenched. He stepped forward. Butsomething came to life in James Quade's right hand and pointedmenacingly at him. It was the stubby black shape of an automatic.

  "Keep back, you old fool!" Quade said harshly. "I don't want to haveto shoot you!"

  Unwillingly, Guinness came to a stop. "What have you done with youngHolmes?" he demanded.

  "Never mind about him now," said Quade, smiling again. "Perhaps I'llexplain later. At the moment there's something much more interestingto do. Possibly you'll be surprised to hear it, but we're all going totake a little ride in this machine of yours, Professor. Down. Aboutfour miles. I'll have to ask you to do the driving. You will, won'tyou--without making a fuss?"

  Guinness's face worked furiously. "Why, you're crazy, Quade!" hesputtered. "I certainly won't!"

  "No?" asked Quade softly. The automatic he held veered around, till itwas pointing directly at the girl. "I wouldn't want to have to shootSue--say--through the hand...." His finger tightened perceptibly onthe trigger.

  "You're mad, man!" Guinness burst out. "You're crazy! What's theidea--"

  "In due time I'll tell you. But now I'll ask you just once more,"Quade persisted. "Will you enter that borer, or must I--" He broke offwith an expressive shrug.

  David Guinness was powerless. He had not the slightest idea what Quademight be about; the one thought that broke through his fear and angerwas that the man was mad, and had better be humored. He trembled, anda tight sensation came to his throat at sight of the steady guntrained on his daughter. He dared not trifle.

  "I'll do it," he said.

  * * * * *

  James Quade laughed. "That's better. You always were essentiallyreasonable, though somewhat impulsive for a man of your age. The rashway you severed our partnership, for instance.... But enough of that.I think we'd better leave immediately. Into the sphere, please. Youfirst, Miss Guinness."

  "Must she come?"

  "I'm afraid so. I can't very well leave her here all unprotected, canI?"

  Quade's voice was soft an
d suave, but an undercurrent of sarcasm ranthrough it. Guinness winced under it; his whole body was tremblingwith suppressed rage and indignation. As he stepped to the door of theearth-borer he turned and asked:

  "How did you know our plans? About the radium?--the borer?"

  Quade told him. "Have you forgotten," he said, "that you talked thematter over with me before we split last year? I simply had thelaboratory watched, and when you got new financial backing from youngHolmes, and came here. I followed you. Simple, eh?... Well, enough ofthis. Get inside. You first, Sue."

  Trembling, the girl obeyed, and when her father hesitated Quade jammedhis gun viciously into his ribs and pushed him to the door. "Inside!"he hissed, and reluctantly, hatred in his eyes, the professor steppedinto the control compartment after Sue. Quade gave a last quick glancearound and, with gun ever wary, passed inside. The door slammed shut:there was a click as its lock shot over. The sphere was a sealed ballof metal.

  Inside, David Guinness obeyed the automatic's imperious gesture andpulled a shiny-handled lever slowly back, and the hush that restedover the Mojave was shattered by a tremendous bellow, a roar thatshook the very earth. It was the disintegrating blast, hurled out ofthe bottom in many fan-shaped rays. The coarse gray sand beneath themachine stirred and flew wildly; the sphere vibrated madly; and thenthe thunder lowered in tone to a mighty humming and the earth-borerbegan to drop. Slowly it fell, at first, then more rapidly. The shinytop came level with the ground: disappeared; and in a moment there wasnothing left but a gaping hole where a short while before a roundmonster of metal had stood. The hole was hot and dark, and from itcame a steadily diminishing thunder....

  * * * * *

  For a long time no one in the earth-borer spoke--didn't even tryto--for though the thunder of the disintegrators was muted, inside, toa steady drone, conversation was almost impossible. The three werecrowded quite close in the spherical inner control compartment. Suesat on a little collapsible stool by the bowed, but by no meanssubdued, figure of Professor David Guinness, while Quade sat on thewire guard of the gyroscope, which was in the exact center of thefloor.

  The depth gauge showed two hundred feet. Already the three people werenumb from the vibration; they hardly felt any sensation at all, saveone of great weight pressing inwards. The compartment was fairly cooland the air good--kept so by the automatic air rectifiers and theinsulation, which shut out the heat born of their passage.

  Quade had been carefully watching Guinness's manipulation of thecontrols, when he was struck by a thought. At once he stood up, andshouted in the elderly inventor's ear: "Try the rockets! I want to besure this thing will go back up!"

  Without a word Guinness shoved back the lever controlling thedisintegrators, at the same time whirling a small wheel full over. Thethudding drone died away to a whisper, and was replaced by sharperthundering, as the stream of the propulsion rockets beneath the spherewas released. A delicate needle trembled on a gauge, danced at thefigure two hundred, then crept back to one-ninety ... one-sixty ...one-forty.... Quade's eyes took in everything.

  "Excellent, Guinness!" he yelled. "Now--down once more!"

  The rockets were slowly cut; the borer jarred at the bottom of itshole; again the disintegrators droned out. The sphere dug rapidly intothe warm ground, biting lower and lower. At ten miles an hour itblasted a path to depths hitherto unattainable to man, sweeping awayrock and gravel and sand--everything that stood in its way. The depthgauge rose to two thousand, then steadily to three and four. So itwent on for nearly half an hour.

  At the end of that time, at a depth of nearly four miles, Quade gotstiffly to his feet and once more shouted into the professor's ear.

  "We ought to be close to that radium, now," he said. "I think--"

  But his words stopped short. The floor of the sphere suddenly fellaway from their feet, and they felt themselves tumbled into a wildplunge. The drone of the disintegrators, hitherto muffled by the earththey bit into, rose to a hollow scream. Before the professor quiteknew what was happening, there was a stunning crash, a shriek oftortured metal--and the earth-borer rocked and lay still....

  * * * * *

  The whole world seemed to be filled with thunder when David Guinnesscame back to consciousness. He opened his eyes and stared up into adarkness to which it took him some time to accustom himself. When hedid, he made out hazily that he was lying on the floor of a vast darkcavern. He could dimly see its jagged roof, perhaps fifty feet above.There was the strong smell of damp earth in his nostrils; his head wassplitting from the steady drone in his ear-drums. Suddenly heremembered what had happened. He groaned slightly and tried to sit up.

  But he could not. His arms and legs were tied. Someone had removed himfrom the earth-borer and bound him on the floor of the cavern they hadplunged into.

  David Guinness strained at the rope. It was futile, but in doing so hetwisted his head around and saw another form, similarly tied, lyingclose to him. He gave a little cry of relief. It was Sue. And she wasconscious, her eyes on his face.

  She spoke to him, but he could not understand her for the drone in hisears, and when he spoke to her it was the same. But the professor didnot just then continue his effort to converse with her. His attentionwas drawn to the borer, now dimly illuminated by its portable light,which had been secured to the door. It was right side up, and appearedto be undamaged. The broad ray of the searchlight fell far away on oneof the cavern's rough walls. He could just make out James Quadestanding there, his back towards them.

  He was hacking at the wall with a pick. Presently he dropped the tooland wrenched at the rock with bare hands. A large chunk came loose. Hehugged it to him and turned and strode back towards the two on thefloor, and as he drew near they could plainly see a gleam of triumphin his eyes.

  "You know what this is?" he shouted. Guinness could only faintly hearhim. "Wealth! Millions! Of course we always knew the radium was here,but this is the proof. And now we've a way of getting it out--thanksto your borer! All the credit is yours, Professor Guinness! You shallhave the credit, and I'll have the money."

  Guinness tugged furiously at his bonds again. "You--you--" he gasped."How dare you tie us this way! Release us at once! What do you mean byit?"

  * * * * *

  Quade smiled unpleasantly. "You're very stupid, Guinness. Haven't youguessed by now what I'm going to do?" He paused, as if waiting for ananswer, and the smile on his face gave way to a look of savage menace.For the first time his bitter feelings came to the surface.

  "Have you forgotten how close I came to going to jail over thosecharges of yours a year ago?" he said. "Have you forgotten thedisgrace to me that followed?--the stigma that forced me to disappearfor months? You fool, do you think I've forgotten?--or that I'd letyou--"

  "Quade," interrupted the older man, "you know very well you wereguilty. I caught you red-handed. You didn't fool anyone--except thejury that let you go. So save your breath, and, if you've the senseyou were born with, release my daughter and me. Why, you're crazy!" hecried with mounting anger. "You can't get away with this! I'll haveyou in jail within forty-eight hours, once I get back to the surface!"

  With an effort Quade controlled his feelings and assumed his oily,sarcastic manner. "That's just it," he said: "'once you get back!' Howstupid you are! You don't seem to realize that you're not going backto the surface. You and your daughter."

  Sue gasped, and her father's eyes went wide. There was a tensesilence.

  "You wouldn't dare!" the inventor cried finally. "You wouldn't dare!"

  "It's rather large, this cavern," Quade went on. "You'll have plentyof room. Perhaps I'll untie you before I go back up, so--"

  "You can't get away with it!" shouted the old man, tremendouslyexcited. "Why, you can't, possibly! Philip Holmes'll track youdown--he'll tell the police--he'll rescue us! And then--"

  Quade smiled suavely. "Oh, no, he won't. Perhaps you remember the shotthat sounded
from the water-hole? Well, when I and my assistant, Juan,heard Holmes say he was going for water, I told Juan to follow him tothe water-hole and bind him, to keep him from interfering till I gotback up. But Mr. Holmes is evidently of an impulsive disposition, andmust have caused trouble. Juan, too, is impulsive; he is a Mexican.And he had a gun. I'm afraid he was forced to use it.... I am quitesure Philip Holmes will not, as you say, track me down."

  David Guinness looked at his daughter's white face and horror-filledeyes and suddenly crumpled. Humbly, passionately, he begged Quade totake her back up. "Why, she's never done anything to you, Quade!" hepleaded. "You can't take her life like that! Please! Leave me, if youmust, but not her! You can't--"

  * * * * *

  But suddenly the old man noticed that Quade was not listening. Hishead was tilted to one side as if he was straining to hear somethingelse. Guinness was held silent for a moment by the puzzled look on theother's face and the strange way he was acting.

  "Do you hear it?" Quade asked at last; and without waiting for ananswer, he knelt down and put his ear to the ground. When he rose hisface was savage, and he cursed under his breath.

  "Why, it's a humming!" muttered Professor Guinness. "And it's gettinglouder!"

  "It sounds like another borer!" ventured Sue.

  The humming grew in volume. Then, from the ceiling, a rock dropped.They were looking at the cavern roof and saw it start, but they didnot hear it strike, for the ever-growing humming echoed loudly throughthe cavern. They saw another rock fall; and another.

  "For God's sake, what is it?" cried Guinness.

  Quade looked at him and slowly drew out his automatic.

  "Another earth-borer, I think," he answered. "And I rather expect itcontains your young friend Mr. Holmes. Yes--coming to rescue you."

  For a moment Guinness and his daughter were too astounded to doanything but gape. She finally exclaimed:

  "But--but then Phil's alive?"

  James Quade smiled. "Probably--for the moment. But don't let yourhopes rise too high. The borer he's in isn't strong enough to survivea fifty-foot plunge." He was shouting now, so loud was the thunderfrom above. "And," he added, "I'm afraid he's not strong enough tosurvive it, either!"

  CHAPTER II

  _The Man-Hunt_

  When Phil Holmes started off to the water-hole, his head was full ofthe earth-borer and the imminent descent. Now that the long-awaitedtime had come, he was at fever-pitch to be off, and it did not takehim long to cover the mile of sandy waste. His thoughts were farinside the earth as he dipped the jug into the clear cool water andsloshed it full.

  So the rope that snaked softly through the air and dropped in a loopover his shoulders came as a stark surprise. Before he knew what washappening it had slithered down over his arms and drawn taut justabove the elbows, and he was yanked powerfully backwards and almostfell.

  But he managed to keep his feet as he staggered backward, and turninghis head he saw the small dark figure of his aggressor some fifteenfeet away, keeping tight the slack.

  Phil's surprise turned to sudden fury and he completely lost his head.What he did was rash; mad; and yet, as it turned out, it was the onlything that could have saved him. Instinctively, without hesitatingone second, and absolutely ignoring an excited command to stand still,he squirmed face-on to his aggressor, lowered his head and charged.

  The distance was short. Halfway across it, a gun barked, and he heardthe bullet crack into the water jug, which he was still holding infront of himself. And even before the splintered fragments reached theground he had crashed into the firer.

  He hit him with all the force of a tackling lineman, and they bothwent down. The man grunted as the wind was jarred out of him, but hewriggled like an eel and managed to worm aside and bring up his gun.

  Then there was a desperate flurry of bodies in the coarse sand. Holmesdived frantically for the gun hand and caught it; but, handicapped ashe was by the rope, he could not hold it. Slowly its muzzle bentupward to firing position.

  Desperately, he wrenched the arm upwards, in the direction it had beenstraining to go, and the sudden unexpected jerk doubled the man's armand brought the weapon across his chest. For a moment there was a testof strength as Phil lay chest to chest over his opponent, the gunblocked between. Then the other grunted; squirmed violently--and therewas a muffled explosion.

  A cry of pain cut the midnight air, and with insane strength Holmes'ambusher fought free from his grip, staggered to his feet and wentreeling away. Phil tore loose from the rope and bounded after him,never feeling, at the moment, his powder-burned chest.

  And then he halted in his tracks.

  A great roar came thundering over the desert!

  * * * * *

  At once he knew that it came from the earth-borer's disintegrators.The sphere had started down without him.

  He stood stock still, petrified with surprise, facing the sound, whilehis attacker melted farther and farther into the night. And then,suddenly, Phil Holmes was sprinting desperately back towards theGuinness camp.

  He ran until he was exhausted; walked for a little while his legsgathered more strength, and his laboring lungs more air; and then ranagain. As the minutes passed, the thunder lessened rapidly into amuffled drone; and by the time Phil had panted up to the brink of thehole that gaped where but a little time before the sphere wasstanding, it had become but a distant purr. He leaned far over andpeered into the hot blackness below, but could see nothing.

  Phil knelt there silently for some minutes, shocked by his strangeattack, bewildered by the unexpected descent of the borer. For a timehis mind would not work; he had no idea what to do. But gradually histhoughts came to order and made certain things clear.

  He had been deliberately ambushed. Only by luck had he escaped, hetold himself. If it hadn't been for the water jug, he'd now be out ofthe picture. And on the heels of the ambush had came the surprisingdescent of the earth-borer. The two incidents coincided too well: thesame mind had planned them. And two, men, at least, were in on theplot.... It suddenly became very clear to him that the answer to thepuzzle lay with the man who had ambushed him. He would have to getthat man. Track him down.

  Phil acted with decision. He got to his feet and strode rapidly to thedeserted Guinness shack, horribly quiet and lonely now in the brightmoonlight. In a minute he emerged with a flashlight at his belt and arifle across his arm.

  Once again he went over to the new black hole in the desert and lookeddown. From far below still came the purr, now fainter than ever. Hisfriend, the girl he loved, were down there, he reflected bitterly, andhe was helpless to reach them. Well, there was one thing he coulddo--go man-hunting. Turning, he started off at a long lope for thewater-hole.

  * * * * *

  Ten minutes later he was there, and off to the side he found the marksof their scuffle--and small black blotches that could be nothing butblood. The other was wounded: could probably not get far. But he mightstill have his gun, so Phil kept his rifle handy, and tempered hisimpatience with caution as he set out on the trail of the widelyspaced footprints.

  They led off towards the nearby hills, and in the bright moonlightPhil did not use his flashlight at all, except to investigate otherround black blotches that made a line parallel to the prints. As hewent on he found his quarry's steps coming more closely together:becoming erratic. Soon they showed as painful drags in the sand, alaborious hauling of one foot after the other.... Phil put away hislight and advanced very cautiously.

  He wondered, as he went, who in the devil was behind it all. Theradium-finding project had been kept strictly secret. Not another soulwas supposed to know of the earth-borer and its daring mission intothe heart of the earth. Yet, obviously, someone had found out, andwhoever it was had laid at least part of his scheme cunningly. An oldman and a girl cannot offer much resistance: he, Phil, would have beenwell taken care of had it not been for the water jug. So far, there
were at least two in the plot: the man who had ambushed him and theunknown who had evidently kidnapped both Professor and Sue Guinness.But there might be still more.

  There might be friends, nearby, of the man he was tracking. The fellowmight have reached them, and warned them that the scheme hadn't gonethrough, that Phil was loose. They could very easily concealthemselves alongside their partner's tracks and train their rifles onthe tracker....

  The trail was leading up into one of the canons in the cluster ofhills to the west. For some distance he followed it up through a slashof black below the steep moonlit heights of the hills to eachside--and then, suddenly, he vaguely made out the forms of two hutsjust ahead.

  Immediately he stooped low, and went skirting widely off up one side.He proceeded slowly, with great caution, his rifle at the ready. Atany moment, he knew, the hush might be split by the cracks ofwaylaying guns. Warily he advanced along the narrow canyon wall abovethe huts. No lights were lit, and the place seemed unoccupied. He wasdebating what to do next when his attention was attracted to a largedark object lying in the canyon trail some twenty yards from thenearest hut. Straining his eyes in the inadequate moonlight, he sawthat it was the outstretched figure of a man. His quarry--hisambusher!

  * * * * *

  Phil dropped flat, fearful of being seen. Keeping as best he could inthe shadows, fearing every moment to hear the sharp bark of a gun, hecrawled forward. It took him a long time to approach the sprawledfigure, but he wasn't taking chances. When within twenty feet, he rosesuddenly and darted forward to the man's side.

  His rapid glance showed him that the fellow was completely out: andanother quick look around failed to show that anyone else waswatching, so he returned to his examination of the man. It was theambusher, all right: a Mexican. He was still breathing, though hisface was drawn and white from the loss of blood from a wound under theblood-soaked clothing near his upper right arm. A hasty search showedthat he no longer had his gun, so Phil, satisfied that he waspowerless for some time to come, cautiously wormed his way towards thetwo shacks.

  There was something sinister in the strange silence that hung overthem. One was of queer construction--a windowless, square, high boxof galvanized iron. The other was obviously a dwelling place.Carefully Phil sneaked up to the latter. Then, rifle ready, he pushedits door open and sent a beam of light stabbing through the darknessof the interior.

  There was no one there. Only two bunks, a table, chair, a pail ofwater and some cooking utensils met his view. He crept out toward theother building.

  Come close, Phil found that a dun-colored canvas had been thrown overthe top of it, making an adequate camouflage in daytime. The place wasabout twenty feet high. He prowled around the metal walls anddiscovered a rickety door. Again, gun ready, he flung it open. Thebeam from his flash speared a path through the blackness--and hegasped at sight of what stood revealed.

  There, inside, was a long, bullet-like tube of metal, the pointed endupper-most, and the bottom, which was flat, toward the ground. It washeld in a wooden cradle, and was slanted at the floor. In the bottomwere holes of two shapes--rocket tubes and disintegrating projectors.It was another earth-borer.

  * * * * *

  Phil stood frozen with surprise before this totally unlooked-formachine. He could easily have been overcome, had the owner been in thebuilding, for he had forgotten everything but what his eyes werestaring at. He started slowly around the borer, found a long narrowdoor slightly ajar, and stepped inside.

  This borer, like Guinness's, had a double shell, and much the sameinstruments, though the whole job was simpler and cruder. A smallinstrument board contained inclination, temperature, depth andair-purity indicators, and narrow tubes led to the air rectifiers. Butwhat kept Holmes' attention were the wires running from the magneto tothe mixing chambers of the disintegrating tubes.

  "The fools!" he exclaimed, "--they didn't know how to wire the thing!Or else," he added after a moment, "didn't get around to doing it." Henoticed that the projectile's interior contained no gyroscope: though,he thought, none would be needed, for the machine, being long andnarrow, could not change keel while in the ground. Here he wasreminded of something. Stepping outside, he estimated the angle theborer made with the dirt floor. Twenty degrees. "And pointedsouthwest!" he exclaimed aloud. "This borer would come close tomeeting the professor's, four miles under our camp!"

  * * * * *

  At once he knew what he would do. First he went back to the othershack and got the pail of water he had noticed, and took this outwhere the Mexican lay outstretched. He bathed the man's face and thestill slightly bleeding bullet wound in his shoulder.

  Presently the wounded man came to. His eyes opened, and he stared upinto a steel mask of a face, in which two level black eyes bored intohis. He remembered that face--remembered it all too well. He trembled,cowered away.

  "No!" he gasped, as if he had seen a ghost. "No--no!"

  "Yes, I'm the man," Holmes told him firmly, menacingly. "The same oneyou tried to ambush." He paused a moment, then said: "Do you want tolive?"

  It was a simple question, frightening in its simplicity.

  "Because if you don't answer my questions, I'm going to let you liehere," Phil went on coldly. "And that would probably mean your death.If you do answer, I'll fix you up so you can have a chance."

  The Mexican nodded eagerly. "I talk," he said.

  "Good," said Phil. "Then tell me who built that machine?"

  "Senor Quade. Senor James Quade."

  "Quade!" Phil had heard the name before. "Of course!" he said."Guinness's old partner!"

  "I not know," the Mexican answered. "He hire me with much money. Hebuy thees machine inside, and we put him together. But he could nomake him work--it take too long. We watch, hear old man go downto-night, and--"

  * * * * *

  The greaser stopped. "And so he sent you to get me, while he kidnappedthe old man and his daughter and forced them under the ground in theirown borer," Holmes supplied, and the other nodded.

  "But I only mean to tie you!" he blurted, gesturing weakly. "I no meanshoot! No, no--"

  "All right--forget it," Phil interrupted. "And now tell me what Quadeexpects to do down there."

  "I not know, Senor," came the hesitant reply, "but...."

  "But what?" the young man jerked.

  Reluctantly the wounded Mexican continued. "Senor Quade--he--I thinkhe don' like thees old man. I think he leave heem an' the girl downbelow. Then he come up an' say they keeled going down."

  Phil nodded grimly. "I see," he said, voicing his thoughts. "Then hewould say that he and Professor Guinness are still partners--and theradium ore will belong to him. Very nice. Very nice...."

  He snapped back to action, and without another word hoisted theMexican onto his back and carried him into the shack. There hecleansed the wound, rigged up a tight bandage for it, and tied the manto one of the cots. He tied him in such a fashion that he could reachsome food and water he put by the cot.

  "You leave me like thees?" the Mexican asked.

  "Yes," Phil said, and started for the door.

  "But what you going to do?"

  Phil smiled grimly as he flung an answer back over his shoulder.

  "Me?--I'm going to fix the wiring on those disintegrators in yourfriend Quade's borer. Then I'm starting down after him." He stoppedand turned before he closed the door. "And if I don't get back--well,it's just too bad for you!"

  * * * * *

  And so, a little later, once more the hushed desert night was cleft bya furious bellow of sound. It came, this time, from a narrow canyon.The steep sides threw the roar back and back again, and the echoesswelled to an earth-shaking blast of sound. The oblong hut from whichit came rocked and almost fell; then, as the noise began to lessen,teetered on its foundations and half-slipped into the ragged hole thathad been bored inside.
/>   The descent was a nightmare that Holmes would never forget. Quade'smachine was much cruder and less efficient than the sphere DavidGuinness had designed. Its protecting insulation proved quiteinadequate, and the heat rapidly grew terrific as the borer dug down.Phil became faint, stifled, and his body oozed streams of sweat. Andthe descent was also bumpy and uneven; often he was forced to leavethe controls and work on the mechanism of the disintegrators when theyfaltered and threatened to stop. But in spite of everything the needleon the depth gauge gradually swung over to three thousand, and four,and five....

  After the first mile Holmes improvised a way to change the air morerapidly, and it grew a little cooler. He watched the story the depthgauge told with narrowed eyes, and, as it reached three miles,inspected his rifle. At three and a half miles he stopped the borer,thinking to try to hear the noise made by the other, but so paralyzedwere his ear-drums from the terrific thunder beneath, it seemed hardlyany quieter when it ceased.

  His plans were vague; they would have to be made according to theconditions he found. There was a coil of rope in the tube-likeinterior of the borer, and he hoped to find a cavern or cleft in theearth for lateral exploring. He would stop at a depth of fourmiles--where he should be very near the path of the professor'ssphere.

  But Phil never saw the needle on the gauge rise to four miles. Atthree and three quarters came sudden catastrophe.

  He knew only that there was an awful moment of utter helplessness,when the borer swooped wildly downwards, and the floor was snatchedsickeningly from under him. He was thrown violently against theinstrument panel; then up toward the pointed top; and at the sameinstant came a rending crash that drove his senses from him....

  CHAPTER III

  "_You Haven't the Guts_"

  "Just as I thought," said James Quade in the silence that fell whenthe last echoes had died away, and the splinters of steel and rock hadsettled. "You see, Professor, this earth-borer belongs to me. Yes, Ibuilt one too. But I couldn't, unfortunately, get it workingproperly--that is, in time to get down here first. After all, I'm nota scientist, and remembered little enough of your borer's plans....It's probably young Holmes who's dropped in on us. Shall we see?"

  David Guinness and his daughter were speechless with dread. Quade hadtrained the searchlight on the borer, and by turning their heads theycould see it plainly. It was all too clear that the machine was atotal wreck. It had pitched over onto one side, its shell cracked andmangled irreparably. Grotesque pieces of crumpled metal lay all aroundit. Its slanting course had tumbled it within fifteen yards of thesphere.

  In silence the old man and the girl watched Quade walk deliberatelyover to it, his automatic steady in his right hand. He wrenched at thelong, narrow door, but it was so badly bent that for a while he couldnot get it open. At last it swung out, however, and Quade peeredinside.

  After a moment he reached in and drew out a rifle. He took it over toa nearby rock, smashed the gun's breech, then flung it, useless,aside. Returning to the borer, he again peered in.

  Sue was about to scream from the torturous suspense when he at laststraightened up and looked around at the white-faced girl and herfather.

  "Mr. Holmes is tougher than I'd thought possible," he said, with athin smile; "he's still alive." And, as Sue gasped with relief, headded: "Would you like to see him?"

  * * * * *

  He dragged the young man's unconscious body roughly out on the floor.There were several bad bruises on his face and head, but otherwise hewas apparently uninjured. As Quade stood over him, playing idly withthe automatic, he stirred, and blinked, and at last, with an effort,got up on one elbow and looked straight at the thin lips and narrowedeyes of the man standing above. He shook his head, trying tocomprehend, then muttered hazily:

  "You--you're--Quade?"

  Quade did not have time to answer, for Sue Guinness cried out:

  "Phil! Are you all right?"

  Phil stared stupidly around, caught sight of the two who lay bound onthe floor, and staggered to his feet. "Sue!" he cried, relief andunderstanding flooding his voice. He started towards her.

  "Stand where you are!" Quade snapped harshly, and the automatic in hishand came up. Holmes peered at it and stopped, but his blood-streakedface settled into tight lines, and his body tensed.

  "You'd better," continued Quade. "Now tell me what happened to Juan."

  Phil forced himself to be calm. "Your pal, the greaser?" he saidcuttingly. "He's lying on a bunk in your shack. He shot himself,playing with a gun."

  Quade chose not to notice the way Phil said this, but a little of thesuave self-confidence was gone from his face as he said: "Well, inthat case I'll have to hurry back to the surface to attend to him. Butdon't be alarmed," he added, more brightly. "I'll be back for you allin an hour or so."

  At this, David Guinness struggled frantically with his bonds andyelled:

  "Don't believe him, Phil! He's going to leave us here, to starve anddie! He told us so just before you came down!"

  * * * * *

  Quade's face twitched perceptibly. His eyes were nervous.

  "Is that true, Quade?" Holmes asked. There was a steely note in hisvoice.

  "Why--no, of course not," the other said hastily, uncertain whether tolie or not. "Of course I didn't!"

  Phil Holmes looked square into his eyes. He bluffed.

  "You couldn't desert us, Quade. You haven't the guts. You haven't theguts."

  His face and eyes burned with the contempt that was in his words. Itcut Quade to the raw. But he could not avoid Phil's eyes. He stared atthem for a full moment, trembling slightly. Slowly, by inches, hestarted to back toward the sphere; then suddenly he ran for it withall his might, Holmes after him. Quade got to it first, and inside, ashe yanked in the searchlight and slammed and locked the door, heyelled:

  "You'll see, you damned pup! You'll see!" And there was the smotheredsound of half-maniacal laughter....

  Phil threw all his weight against the metal door, but it was hopelessand he knew it. He had gathered himself for another rush when he heardGuinness yell:

  "Back, Phil--back! He'll turn on the side disintegrators!"

  Mad with rage as the young man was, he at once saw the danger andleaped away--only to almost fall over the professor's prone body. Withhurrying, trembling fingers he untied the pair's bonds, and theystruggled to their feet, cramped and stiff. Then it was Phil whowarned them.

  "Back as far as you can! Hurry!" He grabbed Sue's hand and plungedtoward the uncertain protection of a huge rock far in the rear. Atonce he made them lie flat on the ground.

  * * * * *

  As yet the sphere had not stirred nor emitted a whisper of sound,though they knew the man inside was conning the controls in a fever ofhaste to leave the cavern. But they hadn't long to wait. There came asputter, a starting cough from the rocket tubes beneath the sphere.Quickly they warmed into life, and the dully glimmering ball rocked inthe hole it lay in. Then a cataract of noise unleashed itself; adevastating thunder roared through the echoing cavern as the rocketsburst into full force. A wave of brilliant orange-red splashed outfrom under the sphere, licked back up its sides, and seemed literallyto shove the great ball up towards the hole in the ceiling.

  Its ascent was very slow. As it gained height it looked--save for itsspeed--like a fantastic meteor flaming through the night, for theorange plumage that streamed from beneath lit the ball with dazzlingcolor. A glowing sphere, it staggered midway between floor andceiling, creeping jerkily upwards.

  "He's not going to hit the hole!" shouted Guinness.

  The borer had not risen in a perfectly straight line; it jarredagainst the rim of the hole, and wavered uncertainly. Every second theroar of its rockets, swollen by echoes, rose in a savage crescendo;the faces of the three who watched were painted orange in the glow.

  The sphere was blind. The man inside could judge his course only bythe feel. As the three who were
deserted watched, hoping ardently thatQuade would not be able to find the opening, the left side-rocketsspouted lances of fire, and they knew he had discovered the way tomaneuver the borer laterally. The new flames welded with the exhaustof the main tubes into a great fan-shaped tail, so brilliant and shotthrough with other colors that their eyes could not stand the sight,except in winks. The borer jerked to the right, but still it could notfind the hole. Then the flames lessened for a moment, and the borersank down, to rise again a moment later. Its ascent was so laboredthat Phil shouted to Professor Guinness:

  "Why so slow?"

  And the inventor told him that which he had not seen for theintolerable light.

  "Only half his rockets are on!"

  * * * * *

  This time the sphere was correctly aimed, however, and it roaredstraight into the hole. Immediately the fierce sound of the exhaustwas muffled, and in a few seconds only the fiery plumage, shootingdown from the ceiling, showed where the machine was. Then thisdisappeared, and the noise alone was left.

  Phil leaped forward, intending to stare up, but Guinness's yell haltedhim.

  "Not yet! He might still use the disintegrators!"

  For many minutes they waited, till the muffled exhaust had died to adrone. There was a puzzled expression on the professor's face as thethree at last walked over and dared peer up into the hole. Far above,the splash of orange lit the walls of the tunnel.

  "That's funny!" the old man muttered. "He's only using half therockets--about ten. I thought he'd turn them all on when he got intothe hole, but he didn't. Either they were damaged in the fall, orQuade doesn't see fit to use them."

  "Half of them are enough," said Phil bitterly, and put his arm aroundthe quiet girl standing next to him. Together, a silent little group,they watched the spot of orange die to a pin-point; watched it waver,twinkle, ever growing smaller.... And then it was gone.

  Gone! Back to the surface of the earth, to the normal world ofreality. Only four miles above them--a small enough distance on thesurface itself--and yet it might have been a million miles, so utterlywere they barred from it....

  * * * * *

  The same thought was in their minds, though none of them dared expressit. They were thinking of the serene desert, and the cool wind, andthe buttes and the high hills, placid in the moonlight. Of the hushedrise of the dawn, the first flush of the sun that was so achinglylovely on the desert. The sun they would never see again, buried in alifeless world of gloom four miles within.... And buried alive--andnot alive for long....

  But that way lay madness. Phil Holmes drove the horrible thoughts fromhis brain and forced a smile to his face.

  "Well, that's that!" he said in a voice meant to be cheerful.

  The dim cavern echoed his words mockingly. With the earth-borergone--the man-made machine that had dared break a solitude undisturbedsince the earth first cooled--the great cavern seemed to return to itsawful original mood. The three dwarfed humans became wholly consciousof it. They felt it almost a living thing, stretching vastly aroundthem, tightening its unheard spell on them. Its smell, of mouldy earthand rocks down which water slowly dripped, filled their nostrils andsomehow added to their fear.

  As they looked about, their eyes became accustomed to the dim, eery,phosphorescent illumination. They saw little worm-like creatures nowand again appear from tiny holes between stalagmites in the jaggedfloor; and, as Phil wondered in his mind how long it would be beforethey would be reduced to using them for food, a strange mole-sizedanimal scraped from the darkness and pecked at one of them. As itslithered away, a writhing shape in its mouth, Holmes mutteredbitterly: "A competitor!" Vague, flitting forms haunted the gloomamong the stalactites of the distorted ceiling--hints of the thingsthat lived in the terrible silence of this nether world. Here Time hadpaused, and life had halted in primate form.

  A little moan came from Sue Guinness's pale lips. She plucked at herarm; a sickly white worm, only an inch long, had fallen on it from theceiling. "Oh!" she gasped. "Oh!"

  Phil drew her closer to him, and walked with her over to Quade'swrecked borer. "Let's see what we've got here," he suggestedcheerfully.

  The machine was over on its side, the metal mangled and crushed beyondrepair. Nevertheless, he squeezed into it. "Stand back!" he warned."I'm going to try its rockets!" There was a click of broken machinery,and that was all. "Rockets gone," Phil muttered.

  He pulled another lever over. There was a sputter from within theborer, then a furious roar that sent great echoes beating through thecavern. A cloud of dust reared up before the bottom of the machine,whipped madly for a moment, and sank as the bellow of sound died down.Sue saw that a rocky rise in the floor directly in front of thedisintegrators had been planed off levelly.

  Phil scrambled out. "The disintegrators work," he said, "but a lot ofgood they do us. The borer's hopelessly cracked." He shrugged hisshoulders, and with a discouraged gesture cast to the ground a coil ofrope he had found inside.

  Then suddenly he swung around. "Professor!" he called to the oldfigure standing bowed beneath the hole in the ceiling. "There's adraft blowing from somewhere! Do you feel it?"

  Guinness felt with his hands a moment and nodded slowly. "Yes," hesaid.

  "It's coming from this way!" Sue said excitedly, pointing into thedarkness on one side of the cavern. "And it goes up the hole we madein the ceiling!"

  Phil turned eagerly to the old inventor. "It must come fromsomewhere," he said, "and that somewhere may take us toward thesurface. Let's follow it!"

  "We might as well," the other agreed wearily. His was the tone of aman who has only a certain time to live.

  But Phil was more eager. "While there's life, there's hope," he saidcheerfully. "Come on, Sue, Professor!" And he led the way forwardtoward the dim, distorted rock shapes in the distance.

  * * * * *

  The roof and sides of the cavern angled down into a rough, tunnel-likeopening, from which the draft swept. It was a heavy air, weighted withthe smell of moist earth and lifeless water and a nameless, flat,stale gas. They slowly made their way through the impedingstalagmites, surrounded by a dark blur of shadows, the ghostlyphosphorescent light illuminating well only the few rods around them.Utter silence brooded over the tunnel.

  Phil paused when they had gone about seventy-five feet. "I left thatrope behind," he said, "and we may need it. I'll return and get it,and you both wait right here." With the words he turned and went backinto the shadows.

  He went as fast as he could, not liking to leave the other two alone.But when he had retrieved the rope and tied it to his waist, hepermitted himself a last look up as he passed under the hole in theceiling--and what he saw there tensed every muscle in his body, andmade his heart beat like mad. Again there was a tiny spot of orange inthe blackness above!

  "Professor!" he yelled excitedly. "Sue! Come here! The sphere'scoming back!"

  There was no doubt about it. The pin-point of light was growing eachsecond, with the flame of the descending exhausts. Guinness and hisdaughter ran from the tunnel, and, guided by Phil's excitedejaculations, hurried to his side. Their eyes confirmed what his hadseen. The earth-borer was coming down!

  "But," Guinness said bewilderedly, "those rockets were enough to lifthim!"

  This was a mystery. Even though ten rockets were on--ten tiny spots oforange flame--the sphere came down swiftly. The same force which sometime before had lifted it slowly up was now insufficient. The roar ofthe tubes rose rapidly. "Get back!" Phil ordered, remembering thedanger, and they all retreated to the mouth of the tunnel, ready topeep cautiously around the edge. Holmes' jaws were locked tight withgrim resolution. Quade was coming back! he told himself exultantly.This time he must not go up alone! This time--!

  But his half-formed resolutions were idle. He could not know whatfrightful thing was bringing Quade down--what frightful experience wasin store for them all....

  CHAPTER IV

>   _Spawn of the Cavern_

  In a crescendo of noise that stunned their ears, the earth-borer camedown. Tongues of fire flared from the hole, speared to the ground andwere deflected upward, cradling the metal ball in a wave of flame.Through this fiery curtain the machine slowly lowered to the floor,where a shower of sparks spattered out, blinding the eyes of thewatchers with their brilliance. For a full minute the orange-glowingsphere lay there, quivering from the vibration; then the exhausts diedand the wave of flame wavered and sank into nothingness. While theirear-drums continued the thunder, the three stared at the borer, notdaring to approach, yet striving to solve the mystery of why it hadsunk despite the up-thrust of ten rocket tubes.

  As their eyes again became accustomed to the familiar phosphorescentillumination, pallid and cold after the fierce orange flame, they sawwhy--and their eyes went wide with surprise and horror.

  A strange mass was covering the top of the earth-borer--something thatlooked like a heap of viscid, whitish jelly. It was sprawledshapelessly over the round upper part of the metal sphere, ahalf-transparent, loathsome stuff, several feet thick in places.

  And Phil Holmes, striving to understand what it could be, saw an awfulthing. "It's moving!" he whispered, unconsciously drawing Sue closer."There's--there's life in it!"

  Lazy quiverings were running through the mound of jelly, pulsings thatgave evidence of its low organism. They saw little ripples of evenbeat run over it, and under them steady, sluggish convulsions thattold of life; that showed, perhaps, that the thing was hungry andpreparing to move its body in quest of food.

  It was alive, unquestionably. The borer lay still, but this thingmoved internally, of itself. It was life in its lowest, most primateform. The mass was mind, stomach, muscle and body all in one, starkand raw before their startled eyes.

  "Oh, God!" Phil whispered through the long pause. "It can't bereal!..."

  "Protoplasm--a monster amoeba," David Guinness's curiously crackedvoice said. "Just as it exists on the surface, only microscopically.Primate life...."

  * * * * *

  The lock of the earth-borer clicked. Phil gasped. "Quade is comingout!" he said. A little cry of horror came from Sue. And the metaldoor opened.

  James Quade stepped through, automatic in hand. He was fresh from thelight inside, and he could not see well. He was quite unconscious ofwhat was oozing down on him from above, of the flabby heap that wascarefully stretching down for him. He peered into the gloom, lookingfor the three he had deserted, and all the time an arm from the massabove crept nearer. Sue Guinness's nerves suddenly gave, and sheshrieked; but Quade's ears were deaf from the borer's thunder, and hedid not hear her.

  It was when he lifted one foot back into the sphere--probably to getout the searchlight--that he felt the thing's presence. He lookedup--and a strange sound came from him. For seconds he apparently couldnot move, stark fear rooting him to the ground, the gun limp in hishand.

  Then a surge ran through the mound of flesh, and the arm, a pseudopod,reached more rapidly for him.

  It stung Quade into action. He leaped back, brought up his automatic,and fired at the thing once; then three times more. He, and each oneof the others, saw four bullets thud into the heap of pallid matterand heard them clang on the metal of the sphere beneath. They had goneright through its flesh--but they showed no slightest effect!

  Quade was evidently unwilling to leave the sphere. Jerking his arm uphe brought his trigger finger back again. A burst of three more shotsbarked through the cavern, echoing and re-echoing. The man screamed aninarticulate oath as he saw how useless his bullets were, and hurledthe empty gun at the monster--which was down on the floor now, andbunching its sluggish body together.

  The automatic went right into it. They could all see it there, in themiddle of the amorphous body, while the creature stopped, as ifdetermining whether or not it was food. Quade screwed his couragetogether in the pause, and tried to dodge past to the door of thesphere; but the monster was alert: another pseudopod sprang out fromits shapeless flesh, sending him back on his heels.

  The feeler had all but touched Quade, and with the closeness of hisescape, the remnants of his courage gave. He yelled, and turned andran.

  * * * * *

  He ran straight for the three who watched from the tunnel mouth, andthe mound of shapeless jelly came fast on his trail. It came insurging rolls, like thick fluid oozing forward; it would have beenhard to measure its size, for each moment it changed. The onlyimpression the four humans had was that of a wave of half-transparentmatter that one instant was a sticky ball of viscid flesh and the nexta rapidly advancing crescent whose horns reached far out on each flankto cut off retreat.

  By instinct Phil jerked Sue around and yelled at the professor to run,for the old man seemed to be frozen into an attitude of fearfulinterest. Bullets would not stop the thing--could anything? Holmeswondered. He could visualize all too easily the death they would meetif that shapeless, naked protoplasmic mass overtook and flowed overthem....

  But he wasted no time with such thoughts. They ran, all three, intothe dark tunnel.

  Quade caught up with them quickly. Personal enmity was suspendedbefore this common peril. They could not run at full speed, for amultitude of obstacles hindered them. Tortuous ridges of rock laydirectly across their path, formations that had been whipped in somemad, eon-old convulsion and then, through the ages, remained frozeninto their present distortion; black pits gaped suddenly before them;half-seen stalagmites, whose crystalline edges were razor-sharp, torethrough to their flesh. Haste was perilous where every moment theymight stumble into an unseen cleft and go pitching into awful depthsbelow. They were staking everything on the draft that blew steadilyin their faces; Phil told himself desperately that it must lead tosome opening--it must!

  But what if the opening were a vertical, impassable tunnel? He wouldnot think of that....

  Old David Guinness tired fast, and was already lagging in the rearwhen Quade gasped hoarsely:

  "Hurry! It's close behind!"

  * * * * *

  Surging rapidly at a constant distance behind them, it came on. It wasas fast as they were, and evidently untiring. It was in its ownelement; obstacles meant nothing to it. It oozed over the jaggedridges that took the humans precious moments to scramble past, and thespeed of its weird progress seemed to increase as theirs faltered. Itwas a heartless mass driven inexorably by primal instinct towards thefood that lay ahead. The dim phosphorescent illumination tinged itsflabby tissues a weird white.

  The passage they stumbled through narrowed. Long irregular spears ofstalactites hung from the unseen ceiling; others, the drippings ofages, pronged up from the floor, shredding their clothes as theyjarred into them. One moment they were clambering up-hill, slipping onthe damp rock; the next they were sliding down into unprobed darkness,reckless of where they would land. They were aware only that thewater-odorous draft was still in their faces, and the hungry mound offlesh behind....

  "I can't last much longer!" old Guinness's winded voice gasped. "Bestleave me behind. I--I might delay it!"

  For answer, Phil went back, grabbed him by the arm and dragged histired body forward. He was snatching a glance behind to see how closethe monster was, when Sue's frightened voice reached him from ahead.

  "There's a wall here, Phil--and no way through!"

  And then Holmes came to it. It barred the passage, and was apparentlyunbroken. Yet the draft still came!

  "Search for where the draft enters!" he yelled. "You take that side!"And he started feeling over the clammy, uneven surface, searchingfrantically for a cleft. It seemed to be hopeless. Quade stood staringback into the gloom, his eyes looking for what he knew was surgingtowards them. His face had gone sickly white, he was trembling as ifwith fever, and he sucked in air with long, racking gasps.

  "Here! I have it!" cried the girl suddenly at her end of the wall. Theother three ran over, and saw,
just above her head, a narrow rift inthe rock, barely wide enough to squirm through. "Into it!" Philordered tersely. He grasped her, raised her high, and she wormedthrough. Quade scrambled to get in next, but Holmes shoved him asideand boosted the old man through. Then he helped the other.

  A second after he had swung himself up, a wave of whitish matterrolled up below, hungry pseudopods reaching for the food it knew wasnear. It began to trickle up the wall....

  * * * * *

  The crack was narrow and jagged; utterly black. Phil could hear Quadefrantically worming himself ahead, and he wondered achingly if itwould lead anywhere. Then a faint, clear voice from ahead rang out:

  "It's opening up!"

  Sue's voice! Phil breathed more easily. The next moment Quadescrambled through; dim light came; and they were in another vast,ghostly-lit cavern.

  The crack came out on its floor-level; Guinness was resting near, andhis daughter had her hands on a large boulder of rock. "Let's shove itagainst the hole!" she suggested to Phil. "It might stop it!"

  "Good, Sue, good!" he exclaimed, and at once all four of them strainedat the chunk, putting forth every bit of strength they had. Theboulder stirred, rolled over, and thudded neatly in front of thecrack, almost completely sealing it. There was only a cleft of fiveinches on one side.

  But their expression of relief died in their throats. A tiny trickleof white appeared through the niche. The amorphous monster wascompressing itself to a single stream, thin enough to squeeze througheven that narrow space.

  They could not block it. They had nothing to attack it with. There wasnothing to do but run.... And hope for a chance to double back....

  As nearly as they could make out, this second cavern was as large asthe first. They could dimly see the fantastic shapes of hundreds ofstalactites hanging from the ceiling. Clumps of stalagmites made thefloor a maze which they threaded painfully. The strong steady draftguided them like a radio beacon, leading them to their only faint hopeof escape and life. Guinness, very tired, staggered alongmechanically, a heavy weight on Phil's supporting arm; James Quade ranhere and there in frantic spurts of speed. Sue was silent, but thehopelessness in her eyes tortured Phil like a wound. His shirt hadlong since been ripped to shreds; his face, bruised in the first placeby the borer he had crashed in, now was scratched and bloody fromcontact with rough stalagmites.

  * * * * *

  Then, without warning, they suddenly found among the rough walls onthe far side of the cavern, the birthplace of the draft. It lay at theedge of the floor--a dark hole, very wide. Black, sinister and clammyfrom the draft that poured from it, it pierced vertically down intothe very bowels of the earth. It was impassable.

  James Quade crumpled at the brink; "It's the end!" he moaned. "Wecan't go farther! It's the end of the draft!"

  The hole blocked their forward path completely. They could not goahead.... In seconds, it seemed, the slithering that told of themonster's approach sounded from behind. Sue's eyes were already fixedon the awful, surging mass when a voice off to one side yelled:

  "Here! Quick!"

  It was Phil Holmes. He had been scouting through the gloom, and hadfound something.

  The other three ran to him. "There's another draft going throughhere," he explained rapidly, pointing to an angled crevice in therocky wall. "There's a good chance it goes to the cavern where thesphere and the hole to the surface are. Anyway, we've got to take it.I'd better go first, after this--and you, Quade, last. I trust youless than the monster behind."

  He turned and edged into the crack, and the others followed as he hadordered. Quickly the passageway broadened, and they found the goingmuch easier than it had been before. For perhaps ten minutes theyscrambled along, with the draft always on their backs and the blessed,though faint, fire of hope kindling again. In all that time they didnot see their pursuer once, and the hope that they had lost it broughta measure of much needed optimism to drive their tired bodies onward.They found but few time-wasting obstacles. If only the tunnel wouldcontinue right into the original cavern! If only their path would stayclear and unhindered!

  But it did not. The sound of Phil's footsteps ahead stopped, and whenSue and her father came up they saw why.

  "A river!" Phil said.

  * * * * *

  They were standing on a narrow ledge that overhung an undergroundriver. A fetid smell of age-old, lifeless water rose from it. Dimly,at least fifty feet across, they could see the other side, shrouded invague shadows. The inky stream beneath did not seem to move at all,but remained smooth and hard and thick-looking.

  They could not go around it. The ledge was only a few feet wide, andblocked at each side.

  "Got to cross!" Phil said tersely.

  Quade, sickly-faced, stared down. "There--there might be other thingsin that water!" he gasped. "Monsters!"

  "Sure," agreed Phil contemptuously. "You'd better stay here." Heturned to the others. "I'll see how deep it is," he said, and withoutthe faintest hesitation dove flatly in.

  Oily ripples washed back, and they saw his head poke through,sputtering. "Not deep," he said. "Chest-high. Come on."

  He reached for Sue, helped her down, and did the same for her father.Holding each by the hand, Sue's head barely above the water, hestarted across. They had not gone more than twenty feet when theyheard Quade, left on the bank, give a hoarse yell of fear and diveinto the water. Their dread pursuer had caught up with them.

  And it followed--on the water! Phil had hoped it would not be able tocross, but once more the thing's astounding adaptability dashed hishopes. Without hesitation, the whitish jelly sprawled out over thewater, rolling after them with ghastly, snake-like ripples, its pallidbody standing out gruesomely against the black, odorous tide.

  Quade came up thrashing madly, some feet to the side of the otherthree. He was swimming--and swimming with such strength that hequickly left them behind. He would be across before they; and thatmeant there was a good chance that the earth-borer would go up againwith only one passenger....

  Phil fought against the water, pulling Sue and her father forward asbest he could. From behind came the rippling sound of their shapelesspursuer. "Ten feet more--" Holmes began--then abruptly stopped.

  There had been a swish, a ripple upstream. And as their heads turnedthey saw the water part and a black head, long, evil, glistening,pointing coldly down to where they were struggling towards the shore.Phil Holmes felt his strength ooze out. He heard Professor Guinnessgasp:

  "A water-snake!"

  * * * * *

  Its head was reared above the surface, gliding down on them silently,leaving a wedge of long, sluggish ripples behind. When thirty feetaway the glistening head dipped under, and a great half-circle ofleg-thick body arched out. It was like an oily stream of curved cable;then it ended in a pointed tail--and the creature was entirely underwater....

  With desperate strength Phil hauled the girl to the bank and, standingin several feet of water, pushed her up. Then he whirled and yankedold Guinness past him up into the hands of his daughter. With themsafe, and Sue reaching out her hand for him, he began to scramble uphimself.

  But he was too late. There was a swish in the water behind him, andtoothless, hard-gummed jaws clamped tight over one leg and drew himback and under. And with the touch of the creature's mouth a stiffshock jolted him; his body went numb; his arms flopped limply down. Hewas paralyzed.

  Sue Guinness cried out. Her father stared helplessly at the spot wherehis young partner had disappeared with so little commotion.

  "It was an eel," he muttered dully. "Some kind of electric eel...."

  Phil dimly realized the same thing. A moment later his face broke thesurface, but he could not cry out; he could not move his littlefinger. Only his involuntary muscles kept working--his heart and hislungs. He found he could control his breathing a little.... And thenhe was wondering why he was remaining motionless
on the surface.Gradually he came to understand.

  He had not felt it, but the eel had let go its hold on his leg, andhad disappeared. But only for a moment. Suddenly, from somewhere near,its gleaming body writhed crazily, and a terrific twist of its tailhit Phil a glancing blow on the chest. He was swept under, and thewater around him became a maelstrom. When next he bobbed to thetumultuous surface, he managed to get a much-needed breath ofair--and in the swirling currents glimpsed the long, snake-like headof the eel go shooting by, with thin trickles of stuff that lookedlike white jelly clinging to it.

  That explained what was happening. The eel had been challenged by theameboid monster, and they were fighting for possession of him--thecommon prey.

  * * * * *

  The water became an inferno of whipping and lashing movements, ofwhitish fibers and spearing thrusts of a glistening black electricbody. Unquestionably the eel was using its numbing electric shock onits foe. Time and time again Phil felt the amoeba grasp him,searingly, only to be wrenched free by the force of the currents thecombat stirred up. Once he thudded into the bottom of the river, andhis lungs seemed about to burst before he was again shot to the topand managed to get a breath. At last the water quieted somewhat, andPhil, at the surface, saw the eel bury its head in a now apatheticmound of flesh.

  It tore a portion loose with savage jaws, a portion that still writhedafter it was separated from the parent mass; and then the victorglided swiftly downstream, and disappeared under the surface....

  Holmes floated helplessly on the inky water. He could see the amoebaplainly; it was still partly paralyzed, for it was very still. Butthen a faint tremor ran through it; a wave ran over its surface--andit moved slowly towards him once again.

  Desperately Phil tried to retreat. The will was there, but the bodywould not work. Save for a feeble flutter of his hands and feet, hecould not move. He could not even turn around to bid Sue and DavidGuinness good-by--with his eyes....

  Then a fresh, loved voice sounded just behind him, and he feltsomething tighten around his waist.

  "It's all right, dear!" the voice called. "Hang on; we'll get youout!"

  Sue had come in after him! She had grasped the rope tied to his belt,and she and her father were pulling him back to the bank!

  He wanted to tell her to go back--the amoeba was only feet away--buthe could only manage a little croak. And then he was safe up on theledge at the other side of the river.

  * * * * *

  A surge of strength filled his limbs, and he knew the shock wasrapidly wearing off. But it was also wearing off of the monster in thewater. Its speed increased; the ripplings of its amorphousbody-substance became quicker, more excited. It came on steadily.

  While it came, the girl and her father worked desperately over Phil,massaging his body and pulling him further up the bank. It had all butreached the bank when Holmes gasped:

  "I think I can walk now. Where--where did Quade go to?"

  Guinness gestured over to the right, up a dim winding passage throughthe rocks.

  "Then we must follow--fast!" Phil said, staggering to his feet. "Hemay get to the sphere first; he'll go up by himself even yet! I'm allright!"

  Despite his words, he could not run, and could only command an awkwardwalk. Sue lifted one of his arms around her shoulder, and her fathertook the other, and without a backward glance they labored ahead. ButPhil's strength quickly returned, and they raised the pace until theyhad broken once more into a stumbling run.

  How far ahead James Quade was, they did not know, but obviously theycould follow where he had gone. Once again the draft was strong ontheir backs. They felt sure they were on the last stretch, headed forthe earth-borer. But, unless they could overtake Quade, he would bethere first. They had no illusions about what that would mean....

  CHAPTER V

  _A Death More Hideous_

  Quade was there first.

  When they burst out of a narrow crevice, not far from thefunnel-shaped opening they had originally entered, they saw himstanding beside the open door of the sphere as if waiting. Thesearchlight inside was still on, and in its shaft of light they couldsee that he was smiling thinly, once more his old, confident self. Itwould only take him a second to jump in, slam the door and lock it. Hecould afford a last gesture....

  The three stopped short. They saw something he did not.

  "So!" he observed in his familiar, mocking voice. He paused, seeingthat they did not come on. He had plenty of time.

  He said something else, but the two men and the girl did not hear whatit was. As if by a magnet their eyes were held by what was hangingabove him, clinging to the lip of the hole the sphere had made in theceiling.

  It was an amoeba, another of those single-celled, protoplasmic moundsof flesh. It had evidently come down through the hole; and now it wasstretching, rubber-like, lower and lower, a living, reachingstalactite of whitish hunger.

  Quade was all unconscious of it. His final words reached Phil'sconsciousness.

  "... And this time, of course, I will keep the top disintegrators on.No other monster will then be able to weigh me down!"

  He shrugged his shoulders and turned to the door. And that movementwas the signal that brought his doom. Without a sound, the poised massabove dropped.

  James Quade never knew what hit him. The heap of whitish jelly fellsquarely. There was a brief moment of frantic lashing, of torturedstruggles--then only tiny ripples running through the monster as itfed.

  Sue Guinness turned her head. But the two men for some reason couldnot take their eyes away....

  * * * * *

  It was the girl's voice that jerked them back to reality. "The other!"she gasped. "It's coming, behind!"

  They had completely forgotten the mass in the tunnel. Turning, theysaw that it was only fifteen feet away and approaching fast, andinstinctively they ran out into the cavern, skirting the spherewidely. When they came to Quade's wrecked borer Phil, who had snatcheda glance behind, dragged them down behind it. For he had seen theirpursuer abandon the chase and go to share in the meal of its fellow.

  "We'd best not get too far away," he whispered. "When they leave thefront of the borer, maybe we can make a dash for it."

  For minutes that went like hours the young man watched, waiting forthe creatures to be done, hoping that they would go away. Fortunatelythe sphere lay between, and he was not forced to see too much. Onlyone portion of one of the monsters was visible, lapping out frombehind the machine....

  At last his body tensed, and he gripped Sue and her father's arm inquick warning. The things were leaving the sphere. Or, rather, onlyone was. For Phil saw that they had agglutenated--merged intooneness--and now the monster that remained was the sum of the sizes ofthe original two. And more....

  They all watched. And they all saw the amoeba stop, hesitate for amoment--and come straight for the wrecked borer behind which they werehidden.

  "Damn!" Phil whispered hoarsely. "It's still hungry--and it's afterus!"

  David Guinness sighed wearily. "It's heavy and sluggish, now," hesaid, "so maybe if we run again.... Though I don't know how I can lastany longer...."

  Holmes did not answer. His eyes were narrowed; he was casting aboutdesperately for a plan. He hardly felt Sue's light touch on his arm asshe whispered:

  "In case, Phil--in case.... This must be good-by...."

  But the young man turned to her with gleaming eyes. "Good-by,nothing!" he cried. "We've still got a card to play!"

  * * * * *

  She stared at him, wondering if he had cracked from the strain of whathe had passed through. But his next words assured her he had not. "Goback, Sue," he said levelly. "Go far back. We'll win through thisyet."

  She hesitated, then obeyed. She crept back from the wrecked borer,back into the dim rear, eyes on Phil and the sluggish mass that movedinexorably towards him. When she had gone fifteen or twenty yards s
hepaused, and watched the two men anxiously.

  Phil was talking swiftly to Professor Guinness. His voice was low andlevel, and though she could not hear the words she could catch thetone of assurance that ran through them. She saw her father nod hishead, and he seemed to make the gesture with vigor. "I will," sheheard him say; and he slapped Phil on the back, adding: "But for God'ssake, be careful!"

  And with these words the old man wormed inside Quade's wrecked borerand was gone from the girl's sight.

  She wanted desperately to run forward and learn what Phil intended todo, but she restrained herself and obeyed his order. She waited, andwatched; and saw the young man stand up, look at the slowly advancingmonster--and deliberately walk right into its path!

  Sue could not move from her fright. In a daze she saw Phil advancecautiously towards the amoeba and pause when within five feet of it.The thing stopped; remained absolutely motionless. She saw him takeanother short step forward. This time a pseudopod emerged, and reachedslowly out for him. Phil avoided it easily, but by so narrow a marginthat the girl's heart stopped beating. Then she saw him step back;and, snail-like, the creature followed, pausing twice, as if wary andsuspicious. Slowly Phil Holmes drew it after him.

  To Sue, who did not know what was his plan, it seemed a deliberateinvitation to death. She forgot about her father, lying inside themangled borer, waiting. She did not see that Phil was leading themonster directly in front of it....

  * * * * *

  It was a grotesque, silent pursuit. The creature appeared to beunalert; its movements were sloth-like; yet the girl knew that if Philonce ventured an inch too close, or slipped, or tried to dodge past itto the sphere, its torpidness would vanish and it would have him. Hismaneuvering had to be delicate, judged to a matter of inches. Tensewith the suspense, the strain of the slow-paced seconds, shewatched--and yet hardly dared to watch, fearful of the awful thing shemight see.

  It was a fantastic game of tag her lover was playing, with death thepenalty for tardiness. The slow, enticing movements were repeatedagain and again, Phil advancing very close, and stepping back in thenick of time. Always he barely avoided the clutching white arms thatwere extended, and little by little he decoyed the thing onward....

  Then came the end. As Holmes was almost in front of the wreckedmachine, Sue saw him glance quickly aside--and, as if waiting for thatmoment when he would be off guard, the monster whipped forward in agreat, reaching surge.

  Sue's ragged nerves cracked: she shrieked. They had him! She startedforward, then halted abruptly. With a tremendous leap, Phil Holmes hadwrenched free and flung himself backwards. She heard his yell:

  "Now!"

  * * * * *

  There was a sputter from the bottom of the outstretched borer; then,like the crack of a whip, came a bellow of awful sound.

  A thick cloud of dust reared up, and the ear-numbing thunder rolledthrough the cavern in great pulsing echoes. And then Sue Guinnessunderstood what the young man had been about.

  The disintegrators of James Quade's borer had sent a broad beam ofannihilation into the monster. His own machine had destroyed hisdestroyer--and given his intended victims their only chance to escapefrom the dread fate he had schemed for them.

  Sue could see no trace of the creature in its pyre of slow-swirlingdust. Caught squarely, its annihilation had been utter. And then,through the thunder that still echoed in her ear-drums, she heard ajoyful voice.

  "We got 'em!"

  Through the dusty haze Phil appeared at her side. He flung his arms upexultantly, swept her off the ground, hugged her close.

  "We got 'em!" he cried again. "We're free--free to go up!"

  Professor David Guinness crawled from the borer. His face, for thefirst time since the descent, wore a broad smile. Phil ran over tohim, slapped him on the back; and the older man said:

  "You did it beautifully, Phil." He turned to Sue. "He had to decoythem right in front of the disintegrators. It was--well, it wasmagnificent!"

  "All credit to Sue: she was my inspiration!" Phil said, laughing. "Butnow," he added, "let's see if we can fix those dead rocket-tubes. Ihave a patient up above--and, anyway, I'm not over-fond of thisplace!"

  * * * * *

  The three had won through. They had blasted four miles down from thesurface of the earth. The brain of an elderly scientist, thequick-witted courage of a young engineer, had achieved the seeminglyimpossible--and against obstacles that could not have been predicted.Death had attended that achievement, as death often does accompanygreat forward steps; James Quade had gone to a death more hideous thanthat he devised for the others. But, in spite of the justice of it, amoment of silence fell on the three survivors as they came to the spotwhere his fate at last had caught up to him.

  But it was only a moment. It was relieved by Professor Guinness'spicking up the chunk of radium ore his former partner had hewn fromthe cavern's wall. He held it up for all to see, and smiled.

  "Here it is," he said simply.

  Then he led the way into his earth-borer, and the little door closedquietly and firmly into place.

  For a few minutes slight tappings came from within, as if a wrench ora screwdriver were being used. Then the tappings stopped, and all wassilence.

  A choke, a starting cough, came from beneath the sphere. A torrent ofrushing sound burst out, and spears of orange flame spurted from thebottom and splashed up its sides, bathing it in fierce, brilliantlight. It stirred. Then, slowly and smoothly, the great ball of metalraised up.

  It hit the edge of the hole in the ceiling, and hung there,hesitating. Side-rockets flared, and the sphere angled over. Then itslid, roaring, through the hole.

  Swiftly the spots of orange from its rocket-tube exhausts died topin-points. There were now almost twenty of them. And soon thesepin-points wavered, and vanished utterly.

  Then there was only blackness in the hole that went up to the surface.Blackness in the hole, calm night on the desert above--and silence, asif the cavern were brooding on the puny figures and strange machinesthat had for the first time dared invade its solitude, in the realmsfour miles within the earth....