CHAPTER XXXVII.
DEATH IN THE PIT OF STEEL.
And Flint, now, what of him! And Waldron?
While the Air Trust plant was burning, crumbling, smashing down, what ofits masters, the masters of the world?
A sense of vast relief possessed them both, at first, as the steel doorclanged after them.
Now, for a time at least, they realized that they were safe, safe fromthe People, safe from the awakened and triumphant Proletariat. Even now,had they surrendered, they would have been spared; but nothing wasfurther from their thoughts than any treating with the despised andhated enemy.
Foremost in the mind of each, now, was the thought that if they couldbut stand siege, a day or so, the troops of the government--theirgovernment and their troops, their own personal property--wouldinevitably rescue them.
With this comforting belief, together they descended the long steelstaircase to the trap-door, passed through this, and climbed down themetal ladder to the vast storage-vaults.
Here, everything was cool and quiet and well-lighted. Not yet had theelectric-generating plant been put out of action. Though all its workershad either been drafted into the ranks of the Cosmos mercenaries, orHerzog's regiments, or else had fled to hiding, still the huge turbinesand enormous dynamos were whirling, unattended. Thus, for the first fewminutes, in their living tomb, down over which the ruins of the nowwhite-hot laboratory-building had crashed, the world-masters hadelectric light.
Reassured a little, they descended to the very bottom of the first hugetank.
"God!" snarled Flint, as he breathed deeply and glared about him. "Thecurs! The swine! To think of this, _this_ really happening! And to thinkthat if we hadn't got here just in time, they'd actually have--have usedviolence on _us_--"
Waldron laughed brutally, his body still trembling and his face chalky.His laugh echoed, hollowly, from the metal walls.
"You old fool!" he spat. "Canting old hypocrite to the last, eh?Violence? What the devil do you expect? Rosewater and confetti? Violencewas all that ever held 'em, wasn't it? And when they slipped the leash,naturally they retorted--that's all! Violence? You make me sick! Damnedlucky for us if we get through this yet, without violence, you whiningcur!"
Flint, for the first time hearing Waldron's honest opinion of him,failed even to note it. All his panic-stricken ear had caught was thenote of hope, of survival.
Clutching eagerly at Waldron's sleeve, he cackled:
"If we get through? If we get through, you say? Then, in your opinion,there _is_ a chance to get through? They can't get us here? We surelyshall be rescued?"
"Bah!" Waldron flung at him, some latent spark of courage stillsmouldering in his sodden breast, whereas old Flint was craven to themarrow. "You nauseate me! Afraid to die, eh? Well, so am I; but not sodamned paralyzed and sick with panic as all that! If you'd taken lessdope, the last twenty years, you'd have more nerve now, to face themusic! World-master, you? Eh? Playing the biggest game on earth--andnow, when things break bad, you squeal! Arrrh! You called me a quitteronce, you mealy-mouthed old Pecksniff! We'll see, now, who quits! We'llsee, at a show-down, who can face it, you or I!"
His fingers lost their hold--he dropped like a Plummet.]
Waldron's brutality, the hard, savage quality that all his life had madehim "Tiger" Waldron, now was beginning to reassert itself. His firstsheer panic over, a little manhood was returning. But as for Flint, nomanhood dwelt in him to be awakened. Instead, each moment found him moreabject and more pitiable. Like an old woman he now wrung his hands andgroaned, hysterically; and now he paced the steel floor of the vaultthat was destined to be his tomb; and now he stopped again and staredabout him with wild eyes.
On all sides, sheer up a hundred feet or more, the smooth steel sides ofthe vast oxygen tank rose, studded with long lines of rivets.
Near the top a dark aperture showed where the six-inch pipe joined thetank; the pipe destined to fill it, when Herzog's last process--never,now, to be completed--should have been done.
The huge floor, 150 feet in diameter, sloped gently downward toward thecenter; and here yawned another pipe, covered by a grating--the pipe todrain the liquid oxygen out to the pumping station.
So deeply set in the rock of the Niagara cliff was this stupendoustank, and so cunningly surrounded by vacuum-chambers, that now nofaintest sound of the Falls was audible. All that betrayed the nearnessof the cataract was a faint, incessant trembling of the metal walls, asthough the solid ribs of Earth herself were shuddering with the impactof the plunge.
Old Flint surveyed this extraordinary chamber with mingled feelings. Itsurely offered absolute protection, for the present--or seemed to--buthis distressed mind conjured alarming pictures of the future, in case norescue came. Death by starvation, thirst and madness loomed before him.Nervously he recommenced his pacing. Another terribly serious factor wasto be considered. He had now been three hours without his dose ofmorphia, and his nerves were calling, tugging insistently for it.
"Rotten luck," he grumbled, "that I've got none with me!" Even there, inthe imminent presence of disaster and death, his mind reverted to thepoison, more necessary to him than food.
Waldron now had grown fairly calm. He stood leaning against the steelladder, down which they had descended. Choosing a cigar, he proceeded tolight up.
"Might as well be comfortable while we wait," said he. "I only wish wehad a couple of chairs, down here. Oversight on our part that we didn'thave some steel ones put in, and a line of canned goods and a few quartsof Scotch. The floor's a bit damp and cold to sit on, and I want a drinkdamn bad!"
Flint swung about and faced him, pale and shaking, tortured with fearand with longing for his dope.
"You--you don't think it _will_ be long, eh, do you?" he demanded. "Notlong before we're taken out?"
Waldron shrugged his shoulders and blew a long, thin arrow of smokeathwart the brightly-lighted air.
"Search me!" he exclaimed. "To judge by what was happening when we madeour exit, the Plant must be a mess, by this time. We seem to have beenchecked, even if not mated, Flint. I must admit they caught us bysurprise. Caught us napping, damn them, after all! They were strongerthan we thought, Flint, and cleverer, and better organized. And so--"
"Don't say 'we,' curse you!" snarled Flint. "Blame yourself, if you wantto, but leave me out! _I_ knew there was trouble due, I tell you. _I_saw it coming! Who's been trying to crush the swine completely, if notI? Who's worked night and day to have those bills put through, and whohad the army increased, and conscription started? Who's driven thePresident to back all sorts of things? Who's forced them? Who made theNational Mounted Police a reality, if not I? Damn you, don't include_me_ in your blame!"
Waldron shrugged his shoulders, and smoked contemplatively.
"Suit yourself," he answered. "If we both die, down here, it won'tmatter much either way."
"Die?" quavered the old jackal, suddenly forgetting his rage and peeringabout with furtive eyes. "Did you say die, Wally? No, no! You didn't saythat! You didn't mean that, surely!"
Waldron smiled, evilly, joying in this abject fear of his hated partner.
"Oh, yes, I did, though," he retorted. "It's quite possible, you know.In case our government--yours, if you prefer--can't get troops through,here, or a big general revolution sweeps things, inside a day or two,we're done. We'll starve and stifle, here, sure as shooting!"
"No, no, no! Not that, not _that_!" whimpered Flint, shuddering. "Ican't die, yet. I--I'm not ready for it! There's all that missionarywork of mine not yet done, and my huge international Sunday SchoolLeague to perfect; and there's the tremendous ten-million-dollarCathedral of Saint Luke the Pious that I'm having built on RiversideDrive, and there's--"
"Cut it!" gibed Waldron, spitting with very disgust. "If your time'scome, Flint, you'll die, cathedrals or no cathedrals. Your Sundayschools won't save you any more than my investments will--which havelargely been wine, women and song. As a matter of fact, if it comes tostarvation, if we
aren't rescued and taken out from under the red-hotwreckage that's on top of us, I'll outlive _you_! I can exist on mysurplus adipose tissue, for a while; but you--_you're_ nothing but skinand bone. You'll starve far quicker than I will, old man."
"Don't! Don't!" implored the shaking wretch, covering his eyes with bothtrembling hands.
"Moral, you oughtn't to have been a dope-fiend, all these years,"continued Waldron, cuttingly, determined that now, once for all, hisdespised partner should hear the truth. "How you've lived so long, as itis, I don't understand. When I tried to marry Kate, and failed, Ireckoned you'd pass over in almost no time--and, by the way, that's whyI was so insistent. But you've disappointed me, Flint. Disappointed mesorely. You still live. It won't be long, however. Down here, you know,you simply can't get any dope. In a little while you'll begin to sufferthe torments of Hell. You'll die of starvation and drug 'yen,' Flint,and you'll die mad, mad, _mad_! Understand me! Mad, for morphine! And I,I shall watch you, and exult!"
Flint cringed, shuddering and stopped his ears. His partner, gloatingover him, smoked faster now. A strange light shone in his eyes. Hispulse beat faster than usual, and a certain extravagance of thought andspeech had become manifest in him.
He tried to compose himself, feeling that he must not push the cowardlyFlint too far, but his ideas refused to flow in orderly sequence.Wonderingly he stared at his cigar, the tip of which was now glowingmore brightly than before.
And then, suddenly sniffing the air he understood. His eyes widened withhorror absolute. He started forward, gasped and cried:
"_Flint! Flint! The oxygen is coming in!_"
Uncomprehending, the old man still stood there, mumbling to himself. Hisface was now tinged with unusual color, and his heart, too, was thumpingstrangely.
"_Oxygen_!" shouted Waldron, shaking him by the shoulder. "It--it'sleaking in, here, somewhere! If we can't stop it--_we're dead men_!"
"Eh? _What_?" stammered the Billionaire, staring at him with eyes ofhalf-intoxicated fear. "What d'you mean, the oxygen? In--in here?"
"_In here_!" cried "Tiger," casting a wild and terrible gaze about himat the vast, empty trap of steel. "Can't you smell it? That ozonesmell? My God, we're lost! We're lost!"
"You're crazy!" retorted Flint, with vigor. "Nothing of the sort couldhappen!" His head was held high, now, and new life seemed surgingthrough that spent and drug-wrecked body. "There's no way those curscould have turned on any gas, here. You're crazy, ha! ha! ha! Insane,eh? A good joke--capital joke, that! I must tell it at the Union LeagueClub! 'Tiger' Waldron, suddenly insane, and--ha! ha! ha!"
He burst into a long, shrill cacchination. Already his face was scarletand his mind a whirl. Though neither man understood the reason, yet thefact remained that one of the last great explosions had ruptured asubterranean check-valve closing the six-inch pipe that was to feed thestorage-tanks; and now a swift, huge stream of pure oxygen gas wasrushing at tremendous velocity into the vast chamber of steel.
Waldron, his heart leaping as though it would burst his ribs, raised afist to strike down his insulter; then, with drunken indecision, joinedin the maniacal laughter of the staggering old man.
In their ears a strange, wild humming now became audible. Lights dancedbefore their eyes; their senses reeled, and violent, extravagant ideassurged through their drunken brains.
"_Ha! Ha! Ha!_" rang Waldron's crazy laughter, echoing the old man's.All at once, his cigar broke into flame. Cursing, he hurled it away,staggering back against the ladder and stood there swaying, clutching itto hold himself from falling.
There he stood, and stared at Flint, with eyes that started from hishead, with panting breath and crimson face.
The old man, in a sudden revulsion of terror, was now grovelling alongthe floor, by one of the massive walls, clawing at the steel withimpotent hands and screaming mingled prayers and oaths. His ravings,horrible to hear, echoed through the great tank, now swiftly fillingwith gas.
"Help! Help!" he screamed. "Save me--my God--save me--. Let me out, letme out! A million, if you let me out! A billion--_the whole world_! Theworld, ha! ha! ha! Damn it to Hell--the world, I say! I'll give theworld to be let out! It's mine--I own it--_all, all mine!_ Ha! Dogs! Youwould rise up against your master and your God, would you? But it's nouse--we'll beat you yet--out! _out_!--the world--I own it! All thisplant--this gas, all mine! My oxygen--ah! it chokes me! _Help!Help!_--Swine! I'll scourge you yet--_absolute power_--_the world_--!"
With one final spark of energy, panting, his heart flailing itself todeath under the pitiless urge of the oxygen, old Flint sprang up, ranwildly, blindly straight across the steel floor, and, screamingblasphemies like a soul in Hell, dashed into the opposite wall.
He recoiled, staggered, spun round and fell sprawling mosthorribly--stone dead.
Waldron, at sight of this awful end, felt an uncontrollable terror sweepover his drunk and maddened senses. Though all his blood was leaping inhis arteries, and his breath coming so fast it choked him, yet amoment's seeming sanity possessed his reeling brain.
"The door! The door, up there!" he screamed, with a wild, terriblecurse.
Then, turning toward the ladder, in spite of his fat and flabby musclesquivering in terrible spasms, he ran up the long steel structure with asupreme and ape-like agility.
Fifty feet he made, seventy-five, ninety--
But, all at once, something seemed to break in his overtaxed heart.
A blackness swam before his dazzled eyes. His head fell back. Unnerved,his fingers lost their hold. And, whirling over and over in midair, hedropped like a plummet.
By one wall lay Flint's body. At the foot of the ladder, like a crushedsack of bones, sprawled the corpse of "Tiger" Waldron.
And still the rushing oxygen, with which they two had hoped to dominatethe world, poured through the six-inch main, far, far above--senselessmatter, blindly avenging itself upon the rash and evil men who impiouslyhad sought to cage and master it!
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