The Treasure-Train

by Arthur B. Reeve

  X

  THE SUBMARINE MINE

  "Here's the bullet. What I want you to do, Professor Kennedy, is tocatch the crank who fired it."

  Capt. Lansing Marlowe, head of the new American Shipbuilding Trust, hadsummoned us in haste to the Belleclaire and had met us in his suitewith his daughter Marjorie. Only a glance was needed to see that it wasshe, far more than her father, who was worried.

  "You must catch him," she appealed. "Father's life is in danger. Oh,you simply MUST."

  I knew Captain Marlowe to be a proverbial fire-eater, but in this case,at least, he was no alarmist. For, on the table, as he spoke, he laid areal bullet.

  Marjorie Marlowe shuddered at the mere sight of it and glancedapprehensively at him as if to reassure herself. She was a tall,slender girl, scarcely out of her teens, whose face was one of thosequite as striking for its character as its beauty. The death of hermother a few years before had placed on her much of the responsibilityof the captain's household and with it a charm added to youth.

  More under the spell of her plea than even Marlowe's vigorous urging,Kennedy, without a word, picked up the bullet and examined it. It wasone of the modern spitzer type, quite short, conical in shape, taperinggradually, with the center of gravity back near the base.

  "I suppose you know," went on the captain, eagerly, "that our companyis getting ready to-morrow to launch the Usona, the largest liner thathas ever been built on this side of the water--the name is made up ofthe initials of the United States of North America.

  "Just now," he added, enthusiastically, "is what I call the goldenopportunity for American shipping. While England and Germany arecrippled, it's our chance to put the American flag on the sea as it wasin the old days, and we're going to do it. Why, the shipyards of mycompany are worked beyond their capacity now."

  Somehow the captain's enthusiasm was contagious. I could see that hisdaughter felt it, that she was full of fire over the idea. But at thesame time something vastly more personal weighed on her mind.

  "But, father," she interrupted, anxiously, "tell them about the BULLET."

  The captain smiled indulgently as though he would say that he was atough old bird to wing. It was only a mask to hide the fighting spiritunderneath.

  "We've had nothing but trouble ever since we laid the keel of thatship," he continued, pugnaciously, "strikes, a fire in the yard,delays, about everything that could happen. Lately we've noticed amotor-boat hanging about the river-front of the yards. So I've had aboat of my own patrolling the river."

  "What sort of craft is this other?" inquired Kennedy, interested atonce.

  "A very fast one--like those express cruisers that we hear so muchabout now."

  "Whose is it? Who was in it? Have you any idea?"

  Marlowe shook his head doubtfully. "No idea. I don't know who owns theboat or who runs it. My men tell me they think they've seen a woman init sometimes, though. I've been trying to figure it out. Why should itbe hanging about? It can't be spying. There isn't any secrecy about theUsona. Why is it? It's a mystery."

  "And the shot?" prompted Craig, tapping the bullet.

  "Oh yes, let me tell you. Last night, Marjorie and I arrived from BarHarbor on my yacht, for the launching. It's anchored off the yard now.Well, early this morning, while it was still gray and misty, I was up.I'll confess I'm worried over to-morrow. I hadn't been able to forgetthat cruiser. I was out on the deck, peering into the mist, when I'msure I saw her. I was just giving a signal to the boat we havepatrolling, when a shot whistled past me and the bullet buried itselfin the woodwork of the main saloon back of me. I dug it out of the woodwith my knife--so you see I got it almost unflattened. That's all Ihave got, too. The cruiser made a getaway, clean."

  "I'm sure it was aimed at him," Marjorie exclaimed. "I don't think itwas chance. Don't you see? They've tried everything else. Now if theycould get my father, the head of the company, that would be a blow thatwould cripple the trust."

  Marlowe patted his daughter's hand reassuringly and smiled again, asthough not to magnify the incident.

  "Marjorie was so alarmed," he confessed, "that nothing would satisfyher but that I should come ashore and stay here at the Belleclaire,where we always put up when we are in town."

  The telephone rang and Marjorie answered it. "I hope you'll pardon me,"she excused, hanging up the receiver. "They want me very muchdown-stairs." Then appealing, she added: "I'll have to leave you withfather. But, please, you must catch that crank who is threatening him."

  "I shall do my level best," promised Kennedy. "You may depend on that."

  "You see," explained the captain as she left us, "I've invited quite alarge party to attend the launching, for one reason or another.Marjorie must play hostess. They're mostly here at the hotel. Perhapsyou saw some of them as you came in."

  Craig was still scanning the bullet. "It looks almost as if some onehad dum-dummed it," he remarked, finally. "It's curiously done, too.Just look at those grooves."

  Both the captain and I looked. It had a hard jacket of cupro-nickel,like the army bullet, covering a core of softer metal. Some one hadnotched or scored the jacket as if with a sharp knife, though notcompletely through it. Had it been done for the purpose of inflicting amore frightful wound if it struck the captain?

  "There've been other shots, too," went on Marlowe. "One of my watchmenwas wounded the night before. It didn't took like a serious wound, inthe leg. Yet the poor fellow seems to be in a bad way, they tell me."

  "How is that?" asked Craig, glancing up quickly from studying thebullet.

  "The wound seems to be all puffed up, and very painful. It won't heal,and he seems to be weak and feverish. Why, I'm afraid the man will die."

  "I'd like to see that case," remarked Kennedy, thoughtfully.

  "Very well. I'll have you driven to the hospital where we have had totake him."

  "I'd like to see the yards, too, and the Usona," he added.

  "All right. After you go to the hospital I'll meet you at the yards atnoon. Now if you'll come down-stairs with me, I'll get my car and haveyou taken to the hospital first."

  We followed Marlowe into the elevator and rode down. In the largeparlor we saw that Marjorie Marlowe had joined a group of the guests,and the captain turned aside to introduce us.

  Among them I noticed a striking-looking woman, somewhat older thanMarjorie. She turned as we approached and greeted the captain cordially.

  "I'm so glad there was nothing serious this morning," she remarked,extending her hand to him.

  "Oh, nothing at all, nothing at all," he returned, holding the hand, Ithought, just a bit longer than was necessary. Then he turned to us,"Miss Alma Hillman, let me present Professor Kennedy and Mr. Jameson."

  I was not so preoccupied in taking in the group that I did not noticethat the captain was more than ordinarily attentive to her. Nor can Isay that I blamed him, for, although he might almost have been herfather in age, there was a fascination about her that youth does notoften possess.

  Talking with her had been a young man, slender, good-looking, withalmost a military bearing.

  "Mr. Ogilvie Fitzhugh," introduced Marjorie, seeing that her father wasneglecting his duties.

  Fitzhugh bowed and shook hands, murmured something stereotyped, andturned again to speak to Marjorie.

  I watched the young people closely. If Captain Marlowe was interestedin Alma, it was more than evident that Fitzhugh was absolutelycaptivated by Marjorie, and I fancied that Marjorie was not averse tohim, for he had a personality and a manner which were very pleasing.

  As the conversation ran gaily on to the launching and the gatheringparty of notables who were expected that night and the next day, Inoticed that a dark-eyed, dark-haired, olive-complexioned young manapproached and joined us.

  "Doctor Gavira," said Marlowe, turning to us, his tone indicating thathe was well acquainted about the hotel. "He is our house physician."

  Gavira also was welcomed in the party, chatting with animation. It wasapparen
t that the physician also was very popular with the ladies, andit needed only half an eye to discern that Fitzhugh was jealous when hetalked to Marjorie, while Marlowe but ill concealed his restlessnesswhen Gavira spoke to Alma. As for Alma, she seemed to treat all menimpartially, except that just now it pleased her to bestow the favor ofher attention on the captain.

  Just then a young lady, all in white, passed. Plainly she did notbelong to the group, though she was much interested in it. As his eyeroved over the parlor, Gavira caught her glance and bowed. She returnedit, but her look did not linger. For a moment she glanced sharply atFitzhugh, still talking to Marjorie, then at Marlowe and Alma Hillman.She was a very pretty girl with eyes that it was impossible to control.Perhaps there was somewhat of the flirt in her. It was not that thatinterested me. For there was something almost akin to jealousy in thelook she gave the other woman. Marlowe was too engrossed to see her andshe passed on slowly. What did it mean, if anything?

  The conversation, as usual at such times, consisted mostly ofwitticisms, and just at present we had a rather serious bit of businessin hand. Kennedy did not betray any of the impatience that I felt, yetI knew he was glad when Marlowe excused himself and we left the partyand passed down the corridor while the captain called his car.

  "I don't know how you are going to get at this thing," he remarked,pausing after he had sent a boy for his driver. "But I'll have to relyon you. I've told you all I know. I'll see you at noon, at the yards.My man will take you there."

  As he turned and left us I saw that he was going in the direction ofthe barber-shop. Next to it and in connection with it, though in aseparate room, was a manicure. As we passed we looked in. There, at themanicure's table, sat the girl who had gone by us in the parlor and hadlooked so sharply at Marlowe and Alma.

  The boy had told us that the car was waiting at a side entrance, butKennedy seemed now in no haste to go, the more so when Marlowe, insteadof going into the barber-shop, apparently changed his mind and enteredthe manicure's. Craig stopped and watched. Prom where we were we couldsee Marlowe, though his back was turned, and neither he nor themanicure could see us.

  For a moment the captain paused and spoke, then sat down. Quiteevidently he had a keen eye for a pretty face and trim figure. Nor wasthere any mistaking the pains which the manicure took to please herrich and elderly customer. After watching them a moment Kennedy loungedover to the desk in the lobby.

  "Who is the little manicure girl?" he asked.

  The clerk smiled. "Seems as if she was a good drawing-card for thehouse, doesn't it?" he returned. "All the men notice her. Why, her nameis Rae Melzer." He turned to speak to another guest before Kennedycould follow with another inquiry.

  As we stood before the desk, a postman, with the parcel post, arrived."Here's a package addressed to Dr. Fernando Gavira," he said,brusquely. "It was broken in the mail. See?"

  Kennedy, waiting for the clerk to be free again, glanced casually atthe package at first, then with a sudden, though concealed, interest. Ifollowed his eye. In the crushed box could be seen some thin brokenpieces of glass and a wadding of cotton-wool.

  As the clerk signed for another package Craig saw a chance, reachedover and abstracted two or three of the broken pieces of glass, thenturned with his back to the postman and clerk and examined them.

  One I saw at once had a rim around it. It was quite apparently the topof a test-tube. The other, to which some cotton-wool still adhered, waspart of the rounded bowl. Quickly Craig dropped the pieces into one ofthe hotel envelopes that stood in a rack on the desk, then, changinghis mind about asking more now about the little manicure, strode out ofthe side entrance where Marlowe's car was waiting for us.

  Hurriedly we drove across town to the City Hospital, where we had nodifficulty in being admitted and finding, in a ward, on a white cot,the wounded guard. Though his wound was one that should not havebothered him much, it had, as Marlowe said, puffed up angrily and in amost peculiar manner. He was in great pain with it and was plainly in abad way.

  Though he questioned the man, Craig did not get anything out of himexcept that the shot had come from a cruiser which had been hangingabout and was much faster than the patrol boat. The nurse and a youngintern seemed inclined to be reticent, as though we might imply thatthe mail's condition reflected on the care he had received, which theywere at pains to convince us had been perfect.

  Puzzled himself, Craig did not say much, but as he pondered the case,shook his head gravely to himself and finally walked out of thehospital abstractedly.

  "We have almost an hour before we are to meet Marlowe at the yard," heconsidered, as we came to the car. "I think I'll go up to thelaboratory first."

  In the quiet of his own workshop, Kennedy carefully examined again thepeculiar grooves on the bullet. He was about to scrape it, but paused.Instead, he filled a tube with a soapy solution, placed the bullet init, and let it stand. Next he did the same with the pieces of glassfrom the envelope.

  Then he opened a drawer and from a number of capillary pipettesselected a plain capillary tube of glass. He held it in the flame of aburner until it was red hot. Then carefully he drew out one end of thetube until it was hair fine. Again he heated the other end, but thistime he let the end alone, except that he allowed it to bend bygravity, then cool. It now had a siphon curve. Another tube he treatedin the same way.

  By this time he was ready to proceed with what he had in mind. He tooka glass slide and on it placed a drop from each of the tubes containingthe bullet and the glass. That done, he placed the bent, larger end ofthe capillary tubes in turn on each of the drops on the slide. Theliquid ascended the tubes by capillary attraction and siphoned over thecurve, running as he turned the tubes up to the finely pointed ends.

  Next in a watch glass he placed some caustic soda and in another somepyrogallic acid, from each of which he took just a drop, as he had donebefore, inclining the tubes to let the fluid gravitate to the throttleend. Finally in the flame he sealed both the tip and butt of the tubes.

  "There's a bubble of air in there," he remarked. "The acid and the sodawill absorb the oxygen from it. Then I can tell whether I'm right. Bythe way, we'll have to hurry if we're to be on time to meet Marlowe inthe yard," he announced, glancing at his watch as he placed the tubesin his little electric incubator.

  We were a little late as the chauffeur pulled in at the executiveoffices at the gate of the shipyard, and Marlowe was waitingimpatiently for us. Evidently he wanted action, but Kennedy saidnothing yet of what he suspected and appeared now to be interested onlyin the yard.

  It was indeed something to interest any one. Everywhere were tokens offeverish activity, in office, shop, and slip. As we picked our wayacross, little narrow and big wide gauge engines and trains whistledand steamed about. We passed rolling-mills, forging-machines, and giantshearing-machines, furnaces for heating the frames or ribs, stonefloors on which they could be pegged out and bent to shape, places forrolling and trimming the plates, everything needed from the keel platesto the deck.

  In the towering superstructure of the building slip we at last came tothe huge steel monster itself, the Usona. As we approached, above usrose her bow, higher than a house, with poppets both there and at thestern, as well as bracing to support her. All had been done up to thelaunching, the stem and stern posts set in place, her sides framed andplated up, decks laid, bulkheads and casings completed, even much ofher internal fitting done.

  Overhead and all about the huge monster was a fairy network of steel,the vast permanent construction of columns and overhead girders.Suspended beneath was a series of tracks carrying traveling andrevolving cranes capable of handling the heaviest pieces. We climbed tothe top and looked down at the vast stretch of hundreds of feet ofdeck. It was so vast that it seemed rather the work of a superman thanof the puny little humans working on her.

  As I looked down the slip where the Usona stood inclined about half aninch to the foot, I appreciated as never before what a task it wasmerely to get her into the wate
r.

  Below again, Marlowe explained to us how the launching ways werecomposed of the ground ways, fastened to the ground as the nameimplied, and the sliding ways that were to move over them. The slidingways, he said, were composed of a lower course and an upper course, onwhich rested the "cradle," fitting closely the side of the ship.

  To launch her, she must be lifted slightly by the sliding ways andcradle from the keel blocks and bilge blocks, and this was done by oakwedges, hundreds of which we could see jammed between the upper andlower courses of sliding ways. Next he pointed out the rib-bands whichwere to keep the sliding ways on the ground ways, and at the bow thepoints on either side where the sliding and ground ways were boltedtogether by two huge timbers known as sole pieces.

  "You see," he concluded, "it is a gigantic task to lift thousands oftons of steel and literally carry it a quarter of a mile to forty feetof water in less than a minute. Everything has to be calculated to anicety. It's a matter of mathematics--the moment of weight, the momentof buoyancy, and all that. This launching apparatus is strong, butcompared to the weight it has to carry it is really delicate. Why, evena stray bolt in the ways would be a serious matter. That's why we haveto have this eternal vigilance."

  As he spoke with a significant look at Kennedy, I felt that it was nowonder that Marlowe was alarmed for the safety of the ship. Millionswere at stake for just that minute of launching.

  It was all very interesting and we talked with men whom it was apleasure to see handling great problems so capably. But none could shedany light on the problem which it was Kennedy's to solve. And yet Ifelt sure, as I watched Craig, that unsatisfactory as it appeared toMarlowe and to myself, he was slowly forming some kind of theory, or atleast plan of action, in his head.

  "You'll find me either here or at the hotel--I imagine," returnedMarlowe to Kennedy's inquiry as we parted from him. "I've instructedall the men to keep their eyes open. I hope some of us have somethingto report soon."

  Whether or not the remark was intended as a hint to Kennedy, it wasunnecessary. He was working as fast and as surely as he could, goingover in hours what others had failed to fathom in weeks.

  Late in the afternoon we got back to the laboratory and Craig beganimmediately by taking from the little electric incubator the twocrooked tubes he had left there. Breaking off the ends with tweezers,he began examining on slides the two drops that exuded, using his mostpowerful microscope. I was forced to curb my impatience as he proceededcarefully, but I knew that Craig was making sure of his ground at eachstep.

  "I suppose you're bursting with curiosity," he remarked at last,looking up from his examination of one of the slides. "Well, here is adrop that shows what was in the grooves of that bullet. Just take alook."

  I applied my eye to the microscope. All I could see was some dots androds, sometimes something that looked like chains of dots and rods, therods straight with square ends, sometimes isolated, but more usuallyjoined end to end in long strings.

  "What is it?" I asked, not much enlightened by what he had permitted meto see. "Anaerobic bacilli and spores," he replied, excitedly. "Thethings that produce the well-known 'gas gangrene' of the trenches, thegas phlegmon bacilli--all sorts, the bacillus aerogenes capsulatus,bacillus proteus, pyogenic cocci, and others, actively gas-formingmicrobes that can't live in air. The method I took to develop anddiscover them was that of Col. Sir Almroth Wright of the British armymedical corps."

  "And that is what was on the bullet?" I queried.

  "The spores or seeds," he replied. "In the tubes, by excluding the air,I have developed the bacilli. Why, Walter," he went on, seriously,"those are among the microbes most dreaded in the infection of wounds.The spores live in the earth, it has been discovered, especially incultivated soil, and they are extraordinarily long-lived, lying dormantfor years, waiting for a chance to develop. These rods you saw are onlyfrom five to fifteen thousandths of a millimeter long and not more thanone-thousandth of a millimeter broad.

  "You can't see them move here, because the air has paralyzed them. Butthese vibrios move among the corpuscles of the blood just as a snakemoves through the grass, to quote Pasteur. If I colored them you wouldsee that each is covered with fine vibrating hairs three or four timesas long as itself. At certain times an oval mass forms in them. That isthe spore which lives so long and is so hard to kill. It was the sporesthat were on the bullet. They resist any temperature exceptcomparatively high and prolonged, and even resist antiseptics for along time. On the surface of a wound they aren't so bad; but deep inthey distil minute gas bubbles, puff up the surrounding tissues, andare almost impossible to combat."

  As he explained what he had found, I could only stare at him while thediabolical nature of the attack impressed itself on my mind. Some onehad tried to murder Marlowe in this most hideous way. No need to be anaccurate marksman when a mere scratch from such a bullet meant ultimatedeath anyhow.

  Why had it been done and where had the cultures come from? I askedmyself. I realized fully the difficulty of trying to trace them. Anyone could purchase germs, I knew. There was no law governing the sale.

  Craig was at work again over his microscope. Again he looked up at me."Here on this other film I find the same sort of wisp-like anaerobes,"he announced. "There was the same thing on those pieces of glass that Igot."

  In my horror at the discovery, I had forgotten the broken package thathad come to the hotel desk while we stood there.

  "Then it was Gavira who was receiving spores and cultures of theanaerobes!" I exclaimed, excitedly.

  "But that doesn't prove that it was he who used them," cautioned Craig,adding, "not yet, at least."

  Important as the discoveries were which he had made, I was not muchfarther along in fixing the guilt of anybody in particular in the case.Kennedy, however, did not seem to be perturbed, though I wondered whattheory he could have worked out.

  "I think the best thing for us to do will be to run over to theBelleclaire," he decided as he doffed his laboratory coat and carefullycleansed his hands in an antiseptic almost boiling hot. "I should liketo see Marlowe again, and, besides, there we can watch some of thesepeople around him."

  Whom he meant other than Gavira I had no idea, but I felt sure thatwith the launching now only a matter of hours something was bound tohappen soon.

  Marlowe was out when we arrived; in fact, had not yet returned from theyard. Nor had many of the guests remained at the hotel during the day.Most of them had been out sightseeing, though now they were returning,and as they began to gather in the hotel parlor Marjorie was againcalled on to put them at their ease.

  Fitzhugh had returned and had wasted no time dressing and gettingdown-stairs again to be near Marjorie. Gavira also appeared, havingbeen out on a case.

  "I wish you would call up the shipyard, Walter," asked Kennedy, as westood in the lobby, where we could see best what was going on. "Tellhim I would like to see him very urgently."

  I found the number and entered a booth, but, as often happens, thetelephone central was overwhelmed by the rush of early-evening calls,and after waiting some time the only satisfaction I got was that theline was busy.

  Meanwhile I decided to stick about the booth so that I could get theyard as soon as possible. From where I stood I could see that Kennedywas closely watching the little manicure, Rae Melzer. A moment later Isaw Alma Hillman come out of the manicure shop, and before any one elsecould get in to monopolize the fascinating little manicure I saw Craigsaunter over and enter.

  I was so interested in what he was doing that for the moment I forgotabout my call and found myself unconsciously moving over in thatdirection, too. As I looked in I saw that he was seated at the littlewhite table, in much the same position as Marlowe had been, deeply inconversation with the girl, though of course I could not make out whatthey were talking about.

  Once she turned to reach something on a shelf back of her. Quick as aflash Kennedy abstracted a couple of the nearest implements, one beinga nail file and the other, I think, a br
ush. A moment later she resumedher work, Kennedy still talking and joking with her, though furtivelyobserving.

  "Where is my nail file--and brush?" I could imagine her saying, as shehunted for them in pretty confusion, aided by Kennedy who, when hewanted to, could act the Fitzhugh and Gavira as well as they. Theimplements were not to be found and from a drawer she took another set.

  Just then Gavira passed on his way to his office in the front of thebuilding, saw me, and smiled. "Kennedy's cut you out," he laughed,catching a glimpse through the door. "Never mind. I used to think I hadsome influence there myself--till the captain came along. I tell youthese oldsters can give us points."

  I laughed, too, and joined him down the hall, not because I cared whathe thought, but because his presence had reminded me of my originalmission to call up Marlowe. However, I decided to postpone callinganother moment and take advantage of the chance to talk to the housephysician.

  "Yes," I agreed, as long as he had opened the subject. "I fancy thecaptain likes young people. He seems to enjoy being with them--MissHillman, for instance."

  Gavira shot a sidelong glance at me. "The Belleclaire's a dangerousplace for a wealthy widower," he returned. "I had some hopes in thatdirection myself--in spite of Fitzhugh--but the captain seems to leaveus all at the post. Still, I suppose I may still be a brother toher--and physician. So, I should worry."

  The impression I got of Gavira was that he enjoyed his freedom too muchever to fall in love, though an intimacy now and then with a clevergirl like Alma Hillman was a welcome diversion.

  "I'm sorry I sha'n't be able to be with you until late to-night," hesaid, as he paused at his office door. "I'm in the medical corps of theGuard and I promised to lecture to-night on gunshot wounds. Some of mymaterial got smashed up, but I have my lantern slides, anyhow. I'll tryto see you all later, though."

  Was that a clever attempt at confession and avoidance on his part? Iwondered. But, then, I reflected he could not possibly know that weknew he had anaerobic microbes and spores in his possession. I hadcleared up nothing and I hastened to call up the shipyard, sure thatthe line could not be busy still.

  Whatever it was that was the matter, central seemed unable to get me mynumber. Instead, I found myself cut right into a conversation that didnot concern me, evidently the fault of the hotel switchboard operator.I was about to protest when the words I heard stopped me in surprise. Aman and a woman were talking, though I could not recognize the voicesand no names were used.

  "I tell you I won't be a party to that launching scheme," I heard theman's voice. "I wash my hands of it. I told you that all along."

  "Then you're going to desert us?" came back the woman's voice, rathertartly. "It's for that girl. Well, you'll regret it. I'll turn thewhole organization on you--I will--you--you--" The voices trailed off,and, try as I could to get the operator to find out who it was, I couldnot.

  Who was it? What did it mean?

  Kennedy had finished with the manicure some time before and was waitingfor me impatiently.

  "I haven't been able to get Marlowe," I hastened, "but I've had anearful." He listened keenly as I told him what I had heard, adding alsothe account of my encounter with Gavira.

  "It's just as I thought--I'll wager," he muttered, excitedly, under hisbreath, taking a hurried turn down the corridor, his face deeplywrinkled.

  "Well! Anything new? I expected to hear from you, but haven't," boomedthe deep voice of Marlowe, who had just come in from an entrance inanother direction from that which we were pacing. "No clue yet to mycrank?"

  Without a word, Kennedy drew Marlowe aside into a little desertedalcove. Marlowe followed, puzzled at the air of mystery.

  Alone, Craig leaned over toward him. "It's no crank," he whispered, ina low tone. "Marlowe, I am convinced that there is a concerted effortto destroy your plans for American commerce building. There isn't theslightest doubt in my mind that it is more serious than youthink--perhaps a powerful group of European steamship men opposed toyou. It is economic war! You know they have threatened it at meetingsreported in the press all along. Well, it's here!"

  Half doubting, half convinced, Marlowe drew back. One after another heshot a rapid fire of questions. Who, then, was their agent who hadfired the shot? Who was it who had deserted, as I had heard over thewire? Above all, what was it they had planned for the launching? Thedeeper he got the more the beads of perspiration came out on hissunburnt forehead. The launching was only eighteen hours off, too, andten of them were darkness. What could be done?

  Kennedy's mind was working rapidly in the crisis as Marlowe appealed tohim, almost helplessly.

  "May I have your car to-night?" asked Craig, pausing.

  "Have it? I'll give it to you if it'll do any good."

  "I'll need it only a few hours. I think I have a scheme that will workperfectly--if you are sure you can guard the inside of the yardto-morrow."

  "I'm sure of that. We spent hours to-day selecting picked men for thelaunching, going over everything."

  Late as it was to start out of town, Craig drove across the bridge andout on Long Island, never stopping until we came to a small lake,around the shores of which he skirted, at last pausing before a hugebarn-like structure.

  As the door swung open to his honking the horn, the light whichstreamed forth shone on a sign above, "Sprague Aviation School." InsideI could make out enough to be sure that it was an aeroplane hangar.

  "Hello, Sprague!" called Kennedy, as a man appeared in the light.

  The man came closer. "Why, hello, Kennedy! What brings you out here atsuch an hour?"

  Craig had jumped from the car, and together the two went into thehangar, while I followed. They talked in low tones, but as nearly as Icould make out Kennedy was hiring a hydro-aeroplane for to-morrow withas much nonchalance as if it had been a taxicab.

  As Kennedy and his acquaintance, Sprague, came to terms, my eye fell ona peculiar gun set up in a corner. It had a tremendous cylinder aboutthe barrel, as though it contained some device to cool it. It was not amachine-gun of the type I had seen, however, yet cartridges seemed tobe fed to it from a disk on which they were arranged radially ratherthan from a band. Kennedy had risen to go and looked about at me.

  "Oh, a Lewis gun!" he exclaimed, seeing what I was looking at. "That'san idea. Sprague, can you mount that on the plane?"

  Sprague nodded. "That's what I have it here for," he returned. "I'vebeen testing it. Why, do you want it?"

  "Indeed I do! I'll be out here early in the morning, Sprague."

  "I'll be ready for you, sir," promised the aviator.

  Speeding back to the city, Kennedy laid out an extensive program for meto follow on the morrow. Together we arranged an elaborate series ofsignals, and that night, late as it was, Craig returned to thelaboratory, where he continued his studies with the microscope, thoughwhat more he expected to discover I did not know.

  In spite of his late hours, it was Craig who wakened me in the morning,already prepared to motor out to the aviation school to meet Sprague.Hastily he rehearsed our signals, which consisted mostly of dots anddashes in the Morse code which Craig was to convey with a flag and I toreceive with the aid of a powerful glass.

  I must admit that I felt somewhat lost when, later in the morning, Itook my place alone on the platform that had been built for the favoredfew of the launching party at the bow of the huge Usona, without Craig.Already, however, he had communicated at least a part of his plan toMarlowe, and the captain and Marjorie were among the first to arrive.Marjorie never looked prettier in her life than she did now, on the daywhen she was to christen the great liner, nor, I imagine, had thecaptain ever been more proud of her.

  They had scarcely greeted me when we heard a shout from the men down atthe end of the slip that commanded a freer view of the river. We cranedour necks and in a moment saw what it was. They had sighted theair-boat coming down the river.

  I turned the glass on the mechanical bird as it soared closer. AlreadyKennedy had made us on the pla
tform and had begun to signal as a test.At least a part of the suspense was over for me when I discovered thatI could read what he sent.

  So fixed had my attention been that I had not noticed that slowly themembers of the elect launching party had arrived, while other thousandsof the less favored crowded into the spaces set apart for them. On thestand now with us were Fitzhugh and Miss Hillman, while, betweenglances at Kennedy, I noticed little Rae Melzer over at the right, andDoctor Gavira, quite in his element, circulating about from one groupto another.

  Every one seemed to feel that thrill that comes with a launching, theappreciation that there is a maximum of risk in a minimum of time.

  Down the slip the men were driving home the last of the huge oak wedgeswhich lifted the great Usona from the blocks and transferred her weightto the launching ways as a new support. All along the stationary, orground, ways and those which were to glide into the water with thecradle and the ship, trusted men were making the final examination tobe as sure as human care can be that all was well.

  As the clock neared noon, which was high water, approximately, all thepreparatory work was done. Only the sole pieces before us held the shipin place. It was as though all bridges had been burned.

  High overhead now floated the hydro-aeroplane, on which I kept my eyefixed almost hypnotically. There was still no signal from Kennedy,however. What was it he was after? Did he expect to see the fastexpress cruiser, lurking like a corsair about the islands of the river?If so, he gave no sign.

  Men were quitting now the work of giving the last touches to thepreparations. Some were placing immense jack-screws which were to givean initial impulse if it were needed to start the ship down the ways.Others were smearing the last heavy dabs of tallow, lard oil, and softsoap on the ways, and graphite where the ways stretched two hundredfeet or so out into the water, for the ship was to travel some hundredsof feet on the land and in the water, and perhaps an equal distance outbeyond the end of the ways.

  Late comers still crowded in. Men now reported that everything wasready. Steadily the time of high water approached.

  "Saw the sole pieces!" finally rang out the order.

  That was a thing that must be done by two gangs, one on each side, andevenly, too. If one gang got ahead of the other, they must stop and letthe second catch up.

  "Zip--zip--zip," came the shrill singing tone of the saws.

  Was everything all right? Kennedy and Sprague were still circlingoverhead, at various altitudes. I redoubled my attention at the glass.

  Suddenly I saw Craig's flag waving frantically. A muffled exclamationcame from my lips involuntarily. Marlowe, who had been watching me,leaned closer.

  "What is it--for God's sake?" he whispered, hoarsely.

  "Stop them!" I shouted as I caught Kennedy's signal. At a hurried orderfrom Marlowe the gangs quit. A hush fell over the crowd.

  Kennedy was circling down now until at last the air-boat rested on thewater and skimmed along toward the ways.

  Out on the ways, as far as they were not yet submerged, some men ran,as if to meet him, but Kennedy began signaling frantically again.Though I had not been expecting it, I made it out.

  "He wants them to keep back," I called, and the word was passed downthe length of the ship.

  Instead of coming to rest before the slip, the plane turned and wentaway, making a complete circle, then coming to rest. To the surprise ofevery one, the rapid staccato bark of the Lewis gun broke the silence.Kennedy was evidently firing, but at what? There was nothing in sight.

  Suddenly there came a tremendous detonation, which made even thelaunching-slip tremble, and a huge column of water, like a geyser, rosein the air about eight hundred feet out in the river, directly in frontof us.

  The truth flashed over us in an instant. There, ten feet or so in thedark water out in the river, Craig had seen a huge circular object,visible only against a sandy bottom from the hydro-aeroplane above, asthe sun-rays were reflected through the water. It was a contactsubmarine mine.

  Marlowe looked at me, his face almost pale. The moment the great hulkof the Usona in its wild flight to the sea would have hit that mine,tilting it, she would have sunk in a blast of flame.

  The air-boat now headed for the shore, and a few moments later, asCraig climbed into our stand, Marlowe seized him in congratulation toodeep for words.

  "Is it all right?" sang out one of the men in the gangs, lessimpressionable than the rest.

  "If there is still water enough," nodded Craig.

  Again the order to saw away the sole pieces was given, and the gangsresumed. "Zip--zip," again went the two saws.

  There were perhaps two inches more left, when the hull quivered. Therewas a crashing and rending as the timbers broke away.

  Marjorie Marlowe, alert, swung the bottle of champagne in its silkennet on a silken cord and it crashed on the bow as she cried, gleefully,"I christen thee Usona!"

  Down the ship slid, with a slow, gliding motion at first, rapidlygathering headway. As her stern sank and finally the bow dipped intothe water, cheers broke forth. Then a cloud of smoke hid her. There wasan ominous silence. Was she wrecked, at last, after all? A puff of windcleared the smoke.

  "Just the friction of the ways--set the grease on fire," shoutedMarlowe. "It always does that."

  Wedges, sliding ways, and other parts of the cradle floated to thesurface. The tide took her and tugs crept up and pulled her to theplace selected for temporary mooring. A splash of a huge anchor, andthere she rode--safe!

  In the revulsion of feeling, every eye on the platform turnedinvoluntarily to Kennedy. Marlowe, still holding his hand, wasspeechless. Marjorie leaned forward, almost hysterical.

  "Just a moment," called Craig, as some turned to go down. "There isjust one thing more."

  There was a hush as the crowd pressed close.

  "There's a conspiracy here," rang out Craig's voice, boldly, "a foreigntrade war. From the start I suspected something and I tried to reasonit out. Having failed to stop the work, failed to kill Marlowe--whatwas left? Why, the launching. How? I knew of that motor-boat. What elsecould they do with it? I thought of recent tests that have been madewith express cruisers as mine-planters. Could that be the scheme? Theair-boat scheme occurred to me late last night. It at least was worthtrying. You see what has happened. Now for the reckoning. Who was theiragent? I have something here that will interest you."

  Kennedy was speaking rapidly. It was one of those occasions in whichKennedy's soul delighted. Quickly he drew a deft contrast between theinfinitely large hulk of the Usona as compared to the infinitely smallbacteria which he had been studying the day before. Suddenly he drewforth from his pocket the bullet that had been fired at Marlowe, then,to the surprise of even myself, he quietly laid a delicate little nailfile and brush in the palm of his hand beside the bullet.

  A suppressed cry from Rae Melzer caused me to recollect the file andbrush she had missed.

  "Just a second," raced on Kennedy. "On this file and brush I foundspores of those deadly anaerobes--dead, killed by heat and anantiseptic, perhaps a one-per-cent. solution of carbolic acid at bloodheat, ninety-eight degrees--dead, but nevertheless there. I suppose themicroscopic examination of finger-nail deposits is too minute a thingto appeal to most people. But it has been practically applied in anumber of criminal cases in Europe. Ordinary washing and even cleaningdoesn't alter microscope findings. In this case this trifling clue isall that leads to the real brain of this plot, literally to the handthat directed it." He paused a moment.

  "Yesterday I found that anaerobe cultures were being received by someone in the Belleclaire, and--"

  "They were stolen from me. Some one must have got into my office, whereI was studying them." Doctor Gavira had pressed forward earnestly, butCraig did not pause again.

  "Who were these agents sent over to wage this secret war at any cost?"he repeated. "One of them, I know now, fell in love with the daughterof the man against whom he was to plot." Marjorie cast a furtive glanceat Fitzhugh.<
br />
  "Love has saved him. But the other? To whom do these deadly germspoint? Who dum-dummed and poisoned the bullet? Whose own fingers, inspite of antiseptics and manicures, point inexorably to a guilty self?"

  Rae Melzer could restrain herself no longer. She was looking at thefile and brush, as if with a hideous fascination. "They are mine--youtook them," she cried, impulsively. "It was she--always having hernails manicured--she who had been there just before--she--Alma Hillman!"