by Various
Mad Music
_By Anthony Pelcher_
The sixty stories of the perfectly constructed Colossus building had mysteriously crashed! What was the connection between this catastrophe and the weird strains of the Mad Musician's violin?
_In an inner room they found a diabolical machine._]
To the accompaniment of a crashing roar, not unlike rumbling thunder,the proud Colossus Building, which a few minutes before had reared itssixty stories of artistic architecture towards the blue dome of the sky,crashed in a rugged, dusty heap of stone, brick, cement and mortar. Thesteel framework, like the skeleton of some prehistoric monster, stillreared to dizzy heights but in a bent and twisted shape of grotesqueoutline.
No one knew how many lives were snuffed out in the avalanche.
As the collapse occurred in the early dawn it was not believed thedeath list would be large. It was admitted, however, that autos, cabsand surface cars may have been caught under the falling rock. One trainwas known to have been wrecked in the subway due to a cave-in from thesurface under the ragged mountain of debris.
The litter fairly filled a part of Times Square, the most congestedcross-roads on God's footstool. Straggling brick and rock had rolledacross the street to the west and had crashed into windows and doors ofinnocent small tradesmen's shops.
A few minutes after the crash a mad crowd of people had piled fromsubway exits as far away as Penn Station and Columbus Circle and fromcross streets. These milled about, gesticulating and shoutinghysterically. All neighboring police stations were hard put to handlethe growing mob.
Hundreds of dead and maimed were being carried to the surface from thewrecked train in the subway. Trucks and cabs joined the ambulance crewsin the work of transporting these to morgues and hospitals. As themorning grew older and the news of the disaster spread, more millingthousands tried to crowd into the square. Many were craning neckshopelessly on the outskirts of the throng, blocks away, trying vainly toget a view of what lay beyond.
The fire department and finally several companies of militia joined thepolice in handling the crowd. Newsies, never asleep, yowled their"Wuxtras" and made much small money.
The newspapers devoted solid pages in attempting to describe what hadhappened. Nervously, efficient reporters had written and written, usingall their best adjectives and inventing new ones in attempts to picturethe crash and the hysterics which followed.
* * * * *
When the excitement was at its height a middle-aged man, bleeding at thehead, clothes torn and dusty, staggered into the West 47th streetpolice station. He found a lone sergeant at the desk.
The police sergeant jumped to his feet as the bedraggled man entered andstumbled to a bench.
"I'm Pat Brennan, street floor watchman of the Colossus," he said. "Iran for it. I got caught in the edge of the wreck and a brick clippedme. I musta been out for some time. When I came around I looked backjust once at the wreck and then I beat it over here. Phone my boss."
"I'll let you phone your boss," said the sergeant, "but first tell mejust what happened."
"Earthquake, I guess. I saw the floor heaving in waves. Glass wascrashing and falling into the street. All windows in the arcade buckled,either in or out. I ran into the street and looked up. God, what asight! The building from sidewalk to towers was rocking and waving andtwisting and buckling and I saw it was bound to crumple, so I lit outand ran. I heard a roar like all Hell broke loose and then somethingnicked me and my light went out."
"How many got caught in the building?"
"Nobody got out but me, I guess. There weren't many tenants. Thebuilding is all rented, but not everybody had moved in yet and those ashad didn't spend their nights there. There was a watchman for every fivestories. An engineer and his crew. Three elevator operators had come in.There was no names of tenants in or out on my book after 4 A.M. Thecrash musta come about 6. That's all."
* * * * *
Throughout the country the news of the crash was received with greatinterest and wonderment, but in one small circle it caused absoluteconsternation. That was in the offices of the Muller ConstructionCompany, the builders of the Colossus. Jason V. Linane, chief engineerof the company, was in conference with its president, James J. Muller.
Muller sat with his head in his hands, and his face wore an expressionof a man in absolute anguish. Linane was pacing the floor, a wildexpression in his eyes, and at times he muttered and mumbled under hisbreath.
In the other offices the entire force from manager to office boys washushed and awed, for they had seen the expressions on the faces of theheads of the concern when they stalked into the inner office thatmorning.
Muller finally looked up, rather hopelessly, at Linane.
"Unless we can prove that the crash was due to some circumstance overwhich we had no control, we are ruined," he said, and there actuallywere tears in his eyes.
"No doubt about that," agreed Linane, "but I can swear that the Colossuswent up according to specifications and that every ounce and splinter ofmaterial was of the best. The workmanship was faultless. We have builtscores of the biggest blocks in the world and of them all this Colossuswas the most perfect. I had prided myself on it. Muller, it wasperfection. I simply cannot account for it. I cannot. It should havestood up for thousands of years. The foundation was solid rock. Itpositively was not an earthquake. No other building in the section waseven jarred. No other earthquake was ever localized to one half block ofthe earth's crust, and we can positively eliminate an earthquake or anexplosion as the possible cause. I am sure we are not to blame, but wewill have to find the exact cause."
"If there was some flaw?" questioned Muller, although he knew theanswer.
"If there was some flaw, then we're sunk. The newspapers are alreadyclamoring for probes, of us, of the building, of the owners andeverybody and everything. We have got to have something damned plausiblewhen we go to bat on this proposition or every dollar we have in theworld will have to be paid out."
"That is not all," said Muller: "not only will we be penniless, but wemay have to go to jail and we will never be able to show our faces inreputable business circles again. Who was the last to go over thatbuilding?"
"I sent Teddy Jenks. He is a cub and is swell headed and too big for hispants, but I would bank my life on his judgment. He has the judgment ofa much older man and I would also bank my life and reputation on hisengineering skill and knowledge. He pronounced the building positivelyO.K.--100 per cent."
"Where is Jenks?"
"He will be here as soon as his car can drive down from Tarrytown. Heshould be here now."
* * * * *
As they talked Jenks, the youngest member of the engineering force,entered. He entered like a whirlwind. He threw his hat on the floor anddrew out a drawer of a cabinet. He pulled out the plans for theColossus, big blue prints, some of them yards in extent, and threw themon the floor. Then he dropped to his knees and began poring over them.
"This is a hell of a time for you to begin getting around," explodedMuller. "What were you doing, cabareting all night?"
"It sure is terrible--awful," said Jenks, half to himself.
"Answer me," thundered Muller.
"Oh yes," said Jenks, looking up. He saw the look of anguish on hisboss's face and forgot his own excitement in sympathy. He jumped to hisfeet, placed his arm about the shoulders of the older man and led him toa chair. Linane only scowled at the young man.
"I was delayed because I stopped by to see the wreck. My God, Mr.Muller, it is awful." Jenks drew his hand across his eye as if to erasethe scene of the wrecked building. Then patting the older manaffectionately on the back he said:
"Buck up. I'm on the job, as usual. I'll find out about it. It could nothave been our fault. Why man, that building was as strong as Gibraltaritself!"
"You were the last to inspect it," accused Muller, with a break in hisvoice.
"Nobody knows that better than I, and I can swear by all that's squareand honest that it was no fault of the material or the construction. Itmust have been--"
"Must have been what?"
"I'll be damned if I know."
"That's like him," said Linane, who, while really kindly intentioned,had always rather enjoyed prodding the young engineer.
"Like me, like the devil," shouted Jenks, glaring at Linane. "I supposeyou know all about it, you're so blamed wise."
"No, I don't know," admitted Linane. "But I do know that you don't likeme to tell you anything. Nevertheless, I am going to tell you that youhad better get busy and find out what caused it, or--"
"That's just what I'm doing," said Jenks, and he dived for his plans onthe floor.
Newspaper reporters, many of them, were fighting outside to get in.Muller looked at Linane when a stenographer had announced the reportersfor the tenth time.
"We had better let them in," he said, "it looks bad to crawl for cover."
"What are you going to tell them?" asked Linane.
"God only knows," said Muller.
"Let me handle them," said Jenks, looking up confidently.
* * * * *
The newspapermen had rushed the office. They came in like a wild wave.Questions flew like feathers at a cock-fight.
Muller held up his hand and there was something in his grief-strickeneyes that held the gentlemen of the press in silence. They had time tolook around. They saw the handsome, dark-haired, brown-eyed Jenks poringover the plans. Dust from the carpet smudged his knees, and he hadrubbed some of it over a sweating forehead, but he still looked thepicture of self-confident efficiency.
"Gentlemen," said Muller slowly, "I can answer all your questions atonce. Our firm is one of the oldest and staunchest in the trade. Ourbuildings stand as monuments to our integrity--"
"All but one," said a young Irishman.
"You are right. All but one," confessed Muller. "But that one, believeme, has been visited by an act of God. Some form of earthquake or someunlooked for, uncontrolled, almost unbelievable catastrophe hashappened. The Muller company stands back of its work to its last dollar.Gentlemen, you know as much as we do. Mr. Jenks there, whose reputationas an engineer is quite sturdy, I assure you, was the last to inspectthe building. He passed upon it when it was finished. He is at yourservice."
Jenks arose, brushed some dust from his knees.
"You look like you'd been praying," bandied the Irishman.
"Maybe I have. Now let me talk. Don't broadside me with questions. Iknow what you want to know. Let me talk."
The newspapermen were silent.
"There has been talk of probing this disaster, naturally," began Jenks."You all know, gentlemen, that we will aid any inquiry to our utmost.You want to know what we have to say about it--who is responsible. In areasonable time I will have a statement to make that will be startlingin the extreme. I am not sure of my ground now."
"How about the ground under the Colossus?" said the Irishman.
"Don't let's kid each other," pleaded Jenks. "Look at Mr. Muller: it isas if he had lost his whole family. We are good people. I am doing all Ican. Mr. Linane, who had charge of the construction, is doing all hecan. We believe we are blameless. If it is proven otherwise we willacknowledge our fault, assume financial responsibility, and take ourmedicine. Believe me, that building was perfection plus, like all ourbuildings. That covers the entire situation."
Hundreds of questions were parried and answered by the three engineers,and the reporters left convinced that if the Muller Construction Companywas responsible, it was not through any fault of its own.
* * * * *
The fact that Jenks and Linane were not strong for each other, except torecognize each other's ability as engineers, was due to an incident ofthe past. This incident had caused a ripple of mirth in engineeringcircles when it happened, and the laugh was on the older man, Linane.
It was when radio was new. Linane, a structural engineer, had paidlittle attention to radio. Jenks was the kind of an engineer who dabbledin all sciences. He knew his radio.
When Jenks first came to work with a technical sheepskin and a few tonsof brass, Linane accorded him only passing notice. Jenks craved theplaudits of the older man and his palship. Linane treated him as a son,but did not warm to his social advances.
"I'm as good an engineer as he is," mused Jenks, "and if he is going tohigh-hat me, I'll just put a swift one over on him and compel hisnotice."
The next day Jenks approached Linane in conference and said:
"I've got a curious bet on, Mr. Linane. I am betting sound can travel amile quicker than it travels a quarter of a mile."
"What?" said Linane.
"I'm betting fifty that sound can travel a mile quicker than it cantravel a quarter of a mile."
"Oh no--it can't," insisted Linane.
"Oh yes--it can!" decided Jenks.
"I'll take some of that fool money myself," said Linane.
"How much?" asked Jenks.
"As much as you want."
"All right--five hundred dollars."
"How you going to prove your contention?"
"By stop watches, and your men can hold the watches. We'll bet that apistol shot can be heard two miles away quicker than it can be heard aquarter of a mile away."
"Sound travels about a fifth of a mile a second. The rate variesslightly according to temperature," explained Linane. "At the freezingpoint the rate is 1,090 feet per second and increases a little over onefoot for every degree Fahrenheit."
"Hot or cold," breezed Jenks, "I am betting you five hundred dollarsthat sound can travel two miles quicker than a quarter-mile."
"You're on, you damned idiot!" shouted the completely exasperatedLinane.
* * * * *
Jenks let Linane's friends hold the watches and his friend held themoney. Jenks was to fire the shot.
Jenks fired the shot in front of a microphone on a football field. Oneof Linane's friends picked the sound up instantaneously on a three-tuberadio set two miles away. The other watch holder was standing in theopen a quarter of a mile away and his watch showed a second and afraction.
All hands agreed that Jenks had won the bet fairly. Linane never exactlyliked Jenks after that.
Then Jenks rather aggravated matters by a habit. Whenever Linane wouldmake a very positive statement Jenks would look owl-eyed and say: "Mr.Linane, I'll have to sound you out about that." The heavy accent on theword "sound" nettled Linane somewhat.
Linane never completely forgave Jenks for putting over this "fast one."Socially they were always more or less at loggerheads, but neither letthis feeling interfere with their work. They worked together faithfullyenough and each recognized the ability of the other.
And so it was that Linane and Jenks, their heads together, worked allnight in an attempt to find some cause that would tie responsibilityfor the disaster on mother nature.
They failed to find it and, sleepy-eyed, they were forced to admitfailure, so far.
The newspapers, to whom Muller had said that he would not shirk anyresponsibility, began a hue and cry for the arrest of all parties in anyway concerned with the direction of the building of the Colossus.
When the death list from the crash and subway wreck reached 97, thepress waxed nasty and demanded the arrest of Muller, Linane and Jenks inno uncertain tones.
Half dead from lack of sleep, the three men were taken by the police tothe district attorney's offices and, after a strenuous grilling, wereformally placed under arrest on charges of criminal negligence. They putup a $50,000 bond in each case and were permitted to go and seek furtherto find the cause of what the newspapers now began calling the "ColossalFailure."
Several days were spent by Linane and Jenks in examining the wreckagewhich was being removed from Times Square, truckload after truckload, toa point outside the city. Here it was again sor
ted and examined andpiled for future disposal.
So far as could be found every brick, stone and ounce of material usedin the building was perfect. Attorneys, however, assured Linane, Jenksand Muller that they would have to find the real cause of the disasterif they were to escape possible long prison sentences.
Night after night Jenks courted sleep, but it would not come. He beganto grow wan and haggard.
* * * * *
Jenks took to walking the streets at night, mile after mile, thinking,always thinking, and searching his mind for a solution of the mystery.
It was evening. He had walked past the scene of the Colossus crashseveral times. He found himself on a side street. He looked up and sawin electric lights:
TOWN HALL
_Munsterbergen, the Mad Musician_ Concert Here To-night.
He took five dollars from his pocket and bought a ticket. He enteredwith the crowd and was ushered to a seat. He looked neither to the rightor left. His eyes were sunken, his face lined with worry.
Something within Jenks caused him to turn slightly. He was curiouslyaware of a beautiful girl who sat beside him. She had a mass of goldenhair which seemed to defy control. It was wild, positively tempestuous.Her eyes were deep blue and her skin as white as fleecy clouds inspring. He was dimly conscious that those glorious eyes were troubled.
She glanced at him. She was aware that he was suffering. A great surgeof sympathy welled in her heart. She could not explain the feeling.
A great red plush curtain parted in the center and drew in gracefulfolds to the edges of the proscenium. A small stage was revealed.
A tousle-headed man with glaring, beady black eyes, dressed in blackevening clothes stepped forward and bowed. Under his arm was a violin.He brought the violin forward. His nose, like the beak of some greatbird, bobbed up and down in acknowledgment of the plaudits which greetedhim. His long nervous fingers began to caress the instrument and hislips began to move.
Jenks was aware that he was saying something, but was not at allinterested. What he said was this:
"Maybe, yes, I couldn't talk so good English, but you could understoodit, yes? Und now I tell you dot I never play the compositions of anyman. I axtemporize exgloosively. I chust blay und blay, und maybe youshould listen, yes? If I bleeze you I am chust happy."
Jenks' attention was drawn to him. He noted his wild appearance.
"He sure looks mad enough," mused Jenks.
* * * * *
The violinist flipped the fiddle up under his chin. He drew the bow overthe strings and began a gentle melody that reminded one of rain dropsfalling on calm waters.
Jenks forgot his troubles. He forgot everything. He slumped in his seatand his eyes closed. The rain continued falling from the strings of theviolin.
Suddenly the melody changed to a glad little lilting measure, as sweetas love itself. The sun was coming out again and the birds began tosing. There was the trill of a canary with the sun on its cage. Therewas the song of the thrush, the mocking-bird and the meadow lark. Theseblended finally into a melodious burst of chirping melody which seemed achorus of the wild birds of the forest and glen. Then the lilting lovemeasure again. It tore at the heart strings, and brought tears to one'seyes.
Unconsciously the girl next to Jenks leaned towards him. Involuntarilyhe leaned to meet her. Their shoulders touched. The cloud of her goldenhair came to rest against his dark locks. Their hands found each otherwith gentle pressure. Both were lost to the world.
Abruptly the music changed. There was a succession of broken treblenotes that sounded like the crackling of flames. Moans deep andmelancholy followed. These grew more strident and prolonged, givingplace to abject howls, suggesting the lamentations of the damned.
The hands of the boy and girl gripped tensely. They could not helpshuddering.
The violin began to produce notes of a leering, jeering character,growing more horrible with each measure until they burst in a loudguffaw of maniacal laughter.
The whole performance was as if someone had taken a heaven and plungedit into a hell.
The musician bowed jerkily, and was gone.
* * * * *
There was no applause, only wild exclamations. Half the house was on itsfeet. The other half sat as if glued to chairs.
The boy and the girl were standing, their hands still gripping tensely.
"Come, let's get out of here," said Jenks. The girl took her wrap andJenks helped her into it. Hand in hand they fled the place.
In the lobby their eyes met, and for the first time they realized theywere strangers. Yet deep in their hearts was a feeling that their fateshad been sealed.
"My goodness!" burst from the girl.
"It can't be helped now," said Jenks decisively.
"What can't be helped?" asked the girl, although she knew in her heart.
"Nothing can be helped," said Jenks. Then he added: "We should know eachother by this time. We have been holding hands for an hour."
The girl's eyes flared. "You have no right to presume on thatsituation," she said.
Jenks could have kicked himself. "Forgive me," he said. "It was onlythat I just wanted so to know you. Won't you let me see you home?"
"You may," said the girl simply, and she led the way to her own car.
They drove north.
Their bodies seemed like magnets. They were again shoulder to shoulder,holding hands.
"Will you tell me your name?" pleaded Jenks.
"Surely," replied the girl. "I am Elaine Linane."
"What?" exploded Jenks. "Why, I work with a Linane, an engineer with theMuller Construction Company."
"He is my father," she said.
"Why, we are great friends," said the boy. "I am Jenks, hisassistant--at least we work together."
"Yes, I have heard of you," said the girl. "It is strange, the way wemet. My father admires your work, but I am afraid you are not greatfriends." The girl had forgotten her troubles. She chuckled. She hadheard the way Jenks had "sounded" her father out.
Jenks was speechless. The girl continued:
"I don't know whether to like you or to hate you. My father is an olddear. You were cruel to him."
Jenks was abject. "I did not mean to be," he said. "He rather belittledme without realizing it. I had to make my stand. The difference in ouryears made him take me rather too lightly. I had to compel his notice,if I was to advance."
"Oh!" said the girl.
"I am sorry--so sorry."
"You might not have been altogether at fault," said the girl. "Fatherforgets at times that I have grown up. I resent being treated like achild, but he is the soul of goodness and fatherly care."
"I know that," said Jenks.
* * * * *
Every engineer knows his mathematics. It was this fact, coupled withwhat the world calls a "lucky break," that solved the Colossus mystery.Nobody can get around the fact that two and two make four.
Jenks had happened on accomplishment to advance in the engineeringprofession, and it was well for him that he had reached a crisis. He hadnever believed in luck or in hunches, so it was good for him to bebrought face to face with the fact that sometimes the footsteps of manare guided. It made him begin to look into the engineering of theuniverse, to think more deeply, and to acknowledge a Higher Power.
With Linane he had butted into a stone wall. They were coming to knowwhat real trouble meant. The fact that they were innocent did not makethe steel bars of a cage any more attractive. Their troubles began towrap about them with the clammy intimacy of a shroud. Then came thelucky break.
Next to his troubles, Jenks' favorite topic was the Mad Musician. Hetried to learn all he could about this uncanny character at whoseconcert he had met the girl of his life. He learned two facts that madehim perk up and think.
One was that the Mad Musician had had offices and a studio in theColossus and was one of th
e first to move in. The other was that the MadMusician took great delight in shattering glassware with notes of orvibrations from a violin. Nearly everyone knows that a glass tumbler canbe shattered by the proper note sounded on a violin. The Mad Musiciantook delight in this trick. Jenks courted his acquaintance, and saw himshatter a row of glasses of different sizes by sounding different noteson his fiddle. The glasses crashed one after another like gelatine ballshit by the bullets of an expert rifleman.
Then Jenks, the engineer who knew his mathematics, put two and twotogether. It made four, of course.
"Listen, Linane," he said to his co-worker: "this fiddler is crazierthan a flock of cuckoos. If he can crack crockery with violin soundvibrations, is it not possible, by carrying the vibrations to a muchhigher power, that he could crack a pile of stone, steel, brick andcement, like the Colossus?"
"Possible, but hardly probable. Still," Linane mused, "when you thinkabout it, and put two and two together.... Let's go after him and seewhat he is doing now."
Both jumped for their coats and hats. As they fared forth, Jenks cinchedhis argument:
"If a madman takes delight in breaking glassware with a vibratory waveor vibration, how much more of a thrill would he get by crashing amountain?"
"Wild, but unanswerable," said Linane.
* * * * *
Jenks had been calling on the Mad Musician at his country place. "He hada studio in the Colossus," he reminded Linane. "He must have re-openedsomewhere else in town. I wonder where."
"Musicians are great union men," said Linane. "Phone the union."
Teddy Jenks did, but the union gave the last known town address as theColossus.
"He would remain in the same district around Times Square," reasonedJenks. "Let's page out the big buildings and see if he is not preparingto crash another one."
"Fair enough," said Linane, who was too busy with the problem at hand tochoose his words.
Together the engineers started a canvass of the big buildings in thetheatrical district. After four or five had been searched without resultthey entered the 30-story Acme Theater building.
Here they learned that the Mad Musician had leased a four-room suitejust a few days before. This suite was on the fifteenth floor, just halfway up in the big structure.
They went to the manager of the building and frankly stated theirsuspicions. "We want to enter that suite when the tenant is not there,"they explained, "and we want him forestalled from entering while we areexamining the premises."
"Hadn't we better notify the police?" asked the building manager, whohad broken out in a sweat when he heard the dire disaster which might bein store for the stately Acme building.
"Not yet," said Linane. "You see, we are not sure: we have just beenputting two and two together."
"We'll get the building detective, anyway," insisted the manager.
"Let him come along, but do not let him know until we are sure. If weare right we will find a most unusual infernal machine," said Linane.
* * * * *
The three men entered the suite with a pass-key. The detective was leftoutside in the hall to halt anyone who might disturb the searchers. Itwas as Jenks had thought. In an inner room they found a diabolicalmachine--a single string stretched across two bridges, one of brass andone of wood. A big horsehair bow attached to a shaft operated by a motorwas automatically sawing across the string. The note resulting wasevidently higher than the range of the human ear, because no audiblesound resulted. It was later estimated that the destructive note wasseveral octaves higher than the highest note on a piano.
The entire machine was enclosed in a heavy wire-net cage, securelybolted to the floor. Neither the string or bow could be reached. It wasevidently the Mad Musician's idea that the devilish contrivance shouldnot be reached by hands other than his own.
How long the infernal machine had been operating no one knew, but thevisitors were startled when the building suddenly began to swayperceptibly. Jenks jumped forward to stop the machine but could not finda switch.
"See if the machine plugs in anywhere in a wall socket!" he shouted toLinane, who promptly began examining the walls. Jenks shouted to thebuilding manager to phone the police to clear the streets around the bigbuilding.
"Tell the police that the Acme Theater building may crash at anymoment," he instructed.
The engineers were perfectly cool in face of the great peril, but thebuilding manager lost his head completely and began to run around incircles muttering: "Oh, my God, save me!" and other words ofsupplication that blended into an incoherent babel.
Jenks rushed to the man, trying to still his wild hysteria.
The building continued to sway dangerously.
* * * * *
Jenks looked from a window. An enormous crowd was collecting, watchingthe big building swinging a foot out of plumb like a giant pendulum. Thecrowd was growing. Should the building fall the loss of life would beappalling. It was mid-morning. The interior of the building teemed withthousands of workers, for all floors above the third were offices.
Teddy Jenks turned suddenly. He heard the watchman in the hall scream interror. Then he heard a body fall. He rushed to the door to see the MadMusician standing over the prostrate form of the detective, a devilishgrin on his distorted countenance.
The madman turned, saw Jenks, and started to run. Jenks took after him.Up the staircase the madman rushed toward the roof. Teddy followed himtwo floors and then rushed out to take the elevators. The building inits mad swaying had made it impossible for the lifts to be operated.Teddy realized this with a distraught gulp in his throat. He returned tothe stairway and took up the pursuit of the madman.
The corridors were beginning to fill with screaming men and wailinggirls. It was a sight never to be forgotten.
Laboriously Jenks climbed story after story without getting sight of themadman. Finally he reached the roof. It was waving like swells on a lakebefore a breeze. He caught sight of the Mad Musician standing on thestreet wall, thirty stories from the street, a leer on his devilishvisage. He jumped for him.
The madman grasped him and lifted him up to the top of the wall as a catmight have lifted a mouse. Both men were breathing heavily as a resultof their 15-story climb.
The madman tried to throw Teddy Jenks to the street below. Teddy clungto him. The two battled desperately as the building swayed.
The dense crowd in the street had caught sight of the two men fightingon the narrow coping, and the shout which rent the air reached the earsof Jenks.
* * * * *
The mind of the engineer was still working clearly, but a wild feargripped his heart. His strength seemed to be leaving him. The madmanpushed him back, bending his spine with brute strength. Teddy was forcedto the narrow ledge that had given the two men footing. The fingers ofthe madman gripped his throat.
He was dimly conscious that the swaying of the building was slowingdown. His reason told him that Linane had found the wall socket and hadstopped the sawing of the devil's bow on the engine of hell.
He saw the madman draw a big knife. With his last remaining strength hereached out and grasped the wrist above the hand which held the weapon.In spite of all he could do he saw the madman inching the knife nearerand nearer his throat.
Grim death was peering into the bulging eyes of Teddy Jenks, when hisengineering knowledge came to his rescue. He remembered the top storiesof the Acme building were constructed with a step of ten feet in fromthe street line, for every story of construction above the 24th floor.
"If we fall," he reasoned, "we can only fall one story." Then hedeliberately rolled his own body and the weight of the madman, who heldhim, over the edge of the coping. At the same time he twisted themadman's wrist so the point of the knife pointed to the madman's body.
There was a dim consciousness of a painful impact. Teddy had fallenunderneath, but the force of the two bodie
s coming together had thrustthe knife deep into the entrails of the Mad Musician.
Clouds which had been collecting in the sky began a splatteringdownpour. The storm grew in fury and lightning tore the heavens, whilethunder boomed and crackled. The rain began falling in sheets.
* * * * *
This served to revive the unconscious Teddy. He painfully withdrew hisbody from under that of the madman. The falling rain, stained with theblood of the Mad Musician, trickled over the edge of the building.
Teddy dragged himself through a window and passed his hand over hisforehead, which was aching miserably. He tried to get to his feet andfell back, only to try again. Several times he tried and then, hisstrength returning, he was able to walk.
He made his way to the studio where he had left Linane and found himthere surrounded by police, reporters and others. The infernal machinehad been rendered harmless, but was kept intact as evidence.
Catching sight of Teddy, Linane shouted with joy. "I stopped the damnedthing," he chuckled, like a pleased schoolboy. Then, observing Teddy'sexhausted condition he added:
"Why, you look like you have been to a funeral!"
"I have," said Teddy. "You'll find that crazy fiddler dead on thetwenty-ninth story. Look out the window of the thirtieth story," heinstructed the police, who had started to recover the body. "He stabbedhimself. He is either dead or dying."
It proved that he was dead.
No engineering firm is responsible for the actions of a madman. So theMuller Construction Company was given a clean bill of health.
* * * * *
Jenks and Elaine Linane were with the girl's father in his study. Theywere asking for the paternal blessing.
Linane was pretending to be hard to convince.
"Now, my daughter," he said, "this young man takes $500 of my good moneyby sounding me out, as he calls it. Then he comes along and tries totake my daughter away from me. It is positively high-handed. It datesback to the football game--"
"Daddy, dear, don't be like that!" said Elaine, who was on the arm ofhis chair with her own arms around him.
"I tell you, Elaine, this dates back to the fall of 1927."
"It dates back to the fall of Eve," said Elaine. "When a girl finds herman, no power can keep him from her. If you won't give me to TeddyJenks, I'll elope with him."
"Well, all right then. Kiss me," said Linane as he turned towards hisradio set.
"One and one makes one," said Teddy Jenks.
Every engineer knows his mathematics.
* * * * *
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