CHAPTER XI.
I may have mentioned that it was customary for Hawkins and myself totravel down-town together on the elevated six days in the week.
So far as that goes, we still do so; for it has come over me recentlythat any attempt to dodge the demoniac inventions of Hawkins is aboutas thankless and hopeless a task as seeking to avoid the setting of thesun.
For two or three mornings, however, I had been leaving the house someten or fifteen minutes earlier than usual.
There had lately appeared the old, uncanny light in Hawkins' eye; andif trouble were impending, it was my fond, foolish hope to be out of itsway--until such time, at least, as the police or the coroner should callme up on the telephone to identify all that was mortal of Hawkins.
Three days, then, my strategy had been crowned with success. I hadeluded Hawkins and ridden down alone, the serene enjoyment of my paperunpunctuated by dissertations upon the practicability of condensingthe clouds for commercial purposes, or the utilization of atmosphericnitrogen in the manufacture of predigested breakfast food.
But upon the fourth morning a fuse blew out under the car before weleft the station; and as I sat there fussing about the delay, in walkedHawkins.
He was beaming and cheerful, but the glitter in his eye had grown moreintense.
"Ah, Griggs," he exclaimed, "I've missed you lately!"
"I hope you haven't lost weight over it?"
"Well, no. I've been busy--very busy."
"Rush of business?"
"Um--ah--yes. Griggs!"
It was coming!
"Hawkins," I said hurriedly, "have you followed this matter of thePanama Canal?"
Hawkins stared hard at me for a moment; then I gave him another push,and he toppled into the canal and wallowed about in its waters until theride was over.
Unhappily, my own place of business is located farther down upon thesame street with the Blank Building, where Hawkins has--or had--offices.There was no way of avoiding it--I was forced to walk with him.
But the suppressed enthusiasm in Hawkins didn't come out, and I feltrather more easy. Whatever it was, I fancied that he had left thematerial part of it at home, and home lay many blocks up-town. I wassafe.
"Good-by," I smiled when we reached his entrance.
"Not much," Hawkins responded. "Come in."
"But, my dear fellow----"
"You come," commanded the inventor. "There's something in here I wantyou to see."
He led me in and past the line of elevators.
So we were not going up to his offices! We seemed to be heading for thecigar booth, and for a moment I fancied that Hawkins had discovered anew brand and was going to treat me; but he piloted me farther, to adoor, and opened it and we passed through.
Then I perceived where we were. The Blank Building people had beenconstructing an addition to their immense stack of offices; we stood inthe freshly completed and wholly unoccupied annex.
"There, sir!" said Hawkins, extending his forefinger. "What do you see,Griggs?"
"Six empty barrels, about three wagon-loads of kindling wood, a newtiled floor, and six brand-new elevators," I replied.
"Oh, hang those things! Look--where I'm pointing!"
"Ah! somebody's left a packing-box in one of the elevator-shafts, eh?"
Certainly, more than anything else, that was what it resembled.
At the first glance it appeared to be nothing more than a crude woodencase about the size of an elevator car, standing in one of the shaftsand contrasting unpleasantly with the other new, shining polished cars.
"Packing--ugh!" snapped the inventor "Do you know what that is?"
"You turned down my first guess," I suggested humbly.
"Griggs, what appears to you as a packing-box is nothing more nor lessthan the first and only Hawkins Hydro-Vapor Lift!"
"The which?"
"The--Hawkins--Hydro--Vapor--Lift!"
"Hydro-Vapor?" I murmured. "Whatever is that? Steam?"
"Certainly."
"And lift, I presume, is English for elevator?"
"The words are synonymous," said Hawkins coldly.
"Then why the dickens didn't you call it a steam elevator and be donewith it? Wasn't that sufficiently complicated?"
"Oh, Griggs, you never seem able to understand! Now, a steamelevator--so called--is an old proposition. A Hydro-Vapor Lift isentirely new and sounds distinctive!"
"Yes, it sounds queer enough," I admitted.
"Just examine it," said the inventor joyously, leading me to the box.
There was not much to be examined. Four walls, a ceiling and afloor--all of undressed wood--that was about the extent of the affair;but in the center of the floor lay a great circular iron plate, sometwo feet across and festooned near the edge with a circle of highlyunornamental iron bolt heads.
Beside the plate, a lever rising perpendicularly from the floorconstituted the sole furnishing of the car.
"Now, you've seen a hydraulic elevator?" Hawkins began. "You know howthey work--a big steel shaft pushed up the car from underneath, so thatwhen it is in operation the car is simply a box standing on the end of apole, which rises or sinks, as the operator wills."
"I believe so," I assented. "I think it's time now for me to be go----"
"That principle is fallacious!" the inventor exclaimed. "Consider whatit would mean here--a steel shaft sixteen stories high, weighing tonsand tons!"
"Well?"
"Well, sir, I have reversed that idiotic idea!" Hawkins announcedtriumphantly. "I have had a hole dug sixteen stories deep, and put thesteel shaft down into it."
It was about what one might have expected from Hawkins; but despite mylong acquaintance with his bizarre mental machinery, I stood and gaspedin sheer amazement.
"Now, then," pursued the inventor. "I have had a steel tube made, alittle longer than the shaft, you understand."
"What! Even longer than sixteen stories?"
"Of course. The tube fits the shaft exactly, just as an engine cylinderfits the plunger. The elevator stands upon the upper end of the tube.We let steam into the tube by operating this lever, which controls mypatent, reversible steam-release. What happens? Why, the tube is forcedupward and the elevator rises. I let out some of the steam--and the tubesinks down into the ground! That iron plate which you see is themanhole cover of the tube, as it were--it corresponds, of course, to thecylinder-head on an engine."
As the novelist puts it, I stood aghast.
It overwhelmed me utterly--the idea that in a great, sane city like NewYork an irresponsible maniac could be permitted to dig a hole sixteenstories deep under a new office building and then fill up that hole witha shaft and a tube such as Hawkins had just described.
"And the people who own this place--did they allow you to do it, or haveyou been chloroforming the watchman and working at night?" I inquired.
"Don't be absurd, Griggs," said Hawkins. "I pay a big rent here. Theowners were very nice about it."
They must have been--exceedingly so, I thought; nice to the point ofimbecility. Had they known Hawkins as I know him, they would joyfullyhave handed him back his lease, given him a substantial cash bonus toboot, and even have thrown in a non-transferable Cook's Tour ticket toTimbuctoo before they allowed him to embark on the project.
It would have been a low sort of trick upon Timbuctoo, but it would havesaved them money and trouble.
"Well," Hawkins said sharply, breaking in upon my reverie. "Don't standthere mooning. Did you ever see anything like it before?"
"Once, when I was a child," I confessed, "I fell while climbing aflagpole, and that night I dreamed----"
"Bah! Come along and watch her work."
"No!" I protested. "Oh, no!"
"Good Lord, why not?" cried Hawkins.
"My wife," I murmured. "She cannot spare me, Hawkins, you know--notyet."
"Why, there isn't the slightest element of danger," the inventor argued."Surely, Griggs, even you must be able to grasp that. Can't you
see thatthat is the chief beauty of the Hydro-Vapor Lift? There are no cables tobreak! That's the great feature. This car may be loaded with ton afterton; but if she's overloaded, she simply stops. There are no riskywire-ropes to snap and let down the whole affair."
"I know, but there are no wire-ropes to hold her up, either, and----"
Hawkins snorted angrily. Then he grabbed me bodily and forced me alongtoward the door of his Hydro-Vapor Lift.
"Actually, you do make me tired," he said. "You seem to think thateverybody is conspiring to take your wretched little life!"
"But what have you against me?" I asked mournfully. "Why not let me outand do your experimenting alone?"
"Because--Lord knows why I'm doing it, you're not important enough towarrant it--I'm bound to convince you that this contrivance is all thatI claim!"
Oh, had I but spent the days of my youth in a strenuous gymnasium! HadI but been endowed with muscle beyond the dreams of Eugene Sandow, andbeen expert in boxing and wrestling and in the breaking of bones, as arethe Japanese!
Then I could have fallen upon Hawkins from the rear and tied him intoknots, and even dismembered him if necessary--and escaped.
But things are what they are, and Hawkins is more than a match for me;so he banged the door angrily and grasped the lever.
"Now, observe with great care the superbly gentle motion with which sherises," he instructed me.
I prepared for that familiarhead-going-up-and-the-rest-of-you-staying-below sensation and gritted myteeth.
Hawkins pulled at the lever. The Hydro-Vapor Lift quivered for aninstant. Then it ascended the shaft--and very gently and pleasantly.
"There! I suppose you've trembled until your collar-buttons have workedloose?" Hawkins said contemptuously, turning on me.
"Not quite that," I murmured.
"Well, you may as well stop. In a moment or two we shall have reachedthe top floor; and there, if you like, you can get out and climb downsixteen flights of stairs."
"Thank you," I said sincerely.
"This, of course, is only the slow speed," Hawkins continued. "We canincrease it with the merest touch. Watch."
"Wait! I like it better slow!" I protested.
"Oh, I'll slacken down again in a moment."
Hawkins gave a mighty push to the controlling apparatus. A charge ofdynamite seemed to have been exploded beneath the Hydro-Vapor Lift!
Up we shot! I watched the freshly painted numbers between floors as theywhizzed by us with shuddering apprehension: 9--10--11--12----
"We're going too fast!" I cried.
Hawkins, I think, was about to laugh derisively. His head had turned tome, and his lips had curled slightly--when the Hydro-Vapor Lift stoppedwith such tremendous suddenness that we almost flew up against the roofof the car.
That was the law of inertia at work. Then we descended to the floorwith a crash that seemed calculated to loosen it. That was the law ofgravitation.
I presume that Hawkins figured without them.
I was the first to sit up. For a time my head revolved too rapidly foranything like coherent perception. Then, as the stars began to fadeaway, I saw that we were stuck fast between floors; and before myeyes--large and prominent in the newness of its paint--loomed up thenumber 13.
It looked ominous.
"We--we seem to have stopped," I said.
"Yes," snapped Hawkins.
"What was it? Do you suppose anything was sticking out into the shaft?Has--can it be possible that there is anything like a mechanical errorin your Hydro-Vapor Lift?"
"No! It's that blamed fool of an engineer!"
"What!" I exclaimed. "Do you blame him?"
"Certainly."
"But how was it his fault?"
"Oh--you see--bah!" said the inventor, turning rather red. "You wouldn'tunderstand if I were to explain the whole thing, Griggs."
"But I should like to know, Hawkins."
"Why?"
"I want to write a little account of the why and the wherefore, so thatthey can find it in case--anything happens to us."
Hawkins turned away loftily.
"We'll have to get out of this," he said.
He pulled at his lever with a confident smile. The Hydro-Vapor Lift didnot budge the fraction of an inch.
Then he pushed it back--and forward again. And still the inexorable 13stood before us.
"Confound that--er--engineer!" growled the inventor.
Just then the Hydro-Vapor Lift indulged in a series of convulsiveshudders.
It was too much for my nerves. I felt certain that in another second wewere to drop, and I shouted lustily:
"Help! Help! Help!"
"Shut up!" cried Hawkins. "Do you want to get the workmen here and havethem see that something's wrong?"
I affirmed that intention with unprintable force.
"Well, I don't!" said the inventor. "Why, Griggs, I'm figuring onequipping this building with my lift in a couple of months!"
"Are--are they going to allow that?" I gasped.
"Why, nothing's settled as yet; but it is understood that if thisexperimental model proves a success----"
But my cry had summoned aid. Above us, and hidden by the roof of thecar, some one shouted:
"Hallo! Phat is it?"
"Hallo!" I returned.
"Air ye in the box?" said the voice, its owner evidently astonished.
"Yes! Get an ax!"
"Phat?"
"An ax!" I repeated. "Get an ax and chop out the roof of this beastlything so that we can climb out, and----"
Hawkins clapped a hand over my mouth, and his scowl was sinister.
"Haven't you a grain of sense left?" he hissed.
"Yes, of course, I have. That's why I want an ax to----"
"Tell that crazy engineer I want more steam!" bawled Hawkins, drowningmy voice.
"More steam?" said the person above. "More steam an' an ax, is it?"
"No--no ax. Tell him I want more steam, and I want it quick! He's got solittle pressure that we're stuck!"
We heard the echo of departing footsteps.
"Now, you'd have made a nice muddle, wouldn't you?" snarled theinventor. "We'd have made a nice sight clambering out through a hole inthe top of this car!"
"There are times," I said, "when appearance don't count for much."
"Well, this isn't one of them," rejoined the inventor sourly.
I did not reply. There was nothing that occurred to me that wouldn'thave offended Hawkins, so I kept silence.
We stood there for a period of minutes, but the Hydro-Vapor Lift seemeddisinclined to move either up or down.
Once or twice Hawkins gave a push at his lever; but that part of theapparatus seemed permanently to have retired from active business.
"Shall we move soon?" I inquired, when the stillness became oppressive.
"Presently," growled Hawkins.
Another long pause, and I hazarded again:
"Isn't it growing warm?"
"I don't feel it."
"Well, it is! Ah! The heat is coming from that plate!" I exclaimed,as it dawned upon me that the big iron thing was radiating warm wavesthrough the stuffy little car. "Your Hydro-Vapor Lift will be pleasantto ride in when the thermometer runs up in August, won't it?"
Hawkins did not deign to reply, and I fell to examining the plate.
"Look," I said, "isn't that steam?"
"Isn't what steam?"
"Down there," I replied, pointing to the plate.
A fine jet of vapor was curling from one point at its edge--a thin spoutof hot steam!
"That's nothing," said Hawkins. "Little leak--nothing more."
"But there's another now!"
"Positively, Griggs, I think you have the most active imagination I everknew in an otherwise----"
"Use your eyes," I said uneasily. "There's another--and still another!"
Hawkins bent over the plate--as much to hide the concern which appearedupon his face as for any other reason, I think.
"Well," he said, "she's leaking a trifle."
"But why?"
"The plate isn't steam-tight, of course; and the engineer's sending usmore pressure."
His composure had returned by this time, and he regarded me with suchcontemptuous eyes that I could find no answer.
But Hawkins' contempt couldn't shut off the steam. It blew out harderand harder from the leaky spots. The little car began to fill, and thetemperature rose steadily.
From a comfortable warmth it increased to an uncomfortable warmth; thento a positively intolerable, reeking wet heat.
I removed my coat, and a little later my vest. Hawkins did likewise. Weboth found some difficulty in breathing.
The steam grew thicker, the car hotter and hotter. Perspiration wasoozing from every pore in my body. Sparkling little rivulets courseddown Hawkins' countenance.
"Hawkins," I said, "if you'd called this thing the Hydro-Vapor Bathinstead of Lift----"
"Don't be witty," Hawkins said coldly.
"Never mind. It may be a bit unreliable as an elevator, but you can letit out for steam-baths--fifty cents a ticket, you know, until you'vemade up whatever the thing cost."
Bzzzzzzzzzz! said the steam.
"I'm going to shout for that ax again," I said determinedly. "Tenminutes more of this and we'll be cooked alive!"
"Now----" began the inventor.
"Hawkins, I decline to be converted into stew simply to save yourvanity. He----"
"Hey!" shouted Hawkins, dancing away from his lever into a corner of thecar and regarding the iron plate with round eyes.
"What is it, now?" I asked breathlessly.
A queer, roaring noise was coming from somewhere. The Hydro-Vapor affairexecuted a series of blood-curdling shakes. From the edges of the platethe steam hissed spitefully and with new vigor.
"That--that jackass of an engineer!" Hawkins sputtered. "He's sendingtoo much steam!"
For a moment I didn't quite catch the significance; then I faltered withsudden weakness:
"Hawkins, you said that this plate corresponded to the cylinder-head ofan engine? Then the tube beneath us is full of steam?"
"Yes, yes!"
"And if we get too much steam--as we seem to be getting it--will theplate blow off?"
"Yes--no--yes--no, of course not," answered Hawkins faintly. "It'sbolted down with----"
"But if it should," I said, dashing the streaming perspiration from myeyes for another look at the accursed plate.
"If it should," the inventor admitted, "we'd either go up to Heaven onit, or we'd stay here and drop!"
"Help!" I screamed.
"Look out! Look out! Hug the wall!" Hawkins shrieked.
A mighty spasm shook the Hydro-Vapor Lift. I fell flat and rolledinstinctively to one side. Then, ere my bewildered senses could graspwhat was occurring, my ears were split by a terrific roar.
The roof of the car disappeared as if by magic, and through the openingshot that huge, round plate of iron, seemingly wafted upon a cloud ofdense white vapor. Then the steam obscured all else, and I felt that wewere falling.
Yes, for an instant the car seemed to shudder uncertainly--then shedropped!
I can hardly say more of our descent from the fatal thirteenth story. Inone second--not more, I am certain--twelve spots of light, representingtwelve floors, whizzed past us.
I recall a very definite impression that the Blank Building was makingan outrageous trip straight upward from New York; and I wondered how theoccupants were going to return and whether they would sue the buildingpeople for detention from business.
But just as I was debating this interesting point, earthly concernsseemed to cease.
In the cellar of the Blank Building annex a pile of excelsior andbagging and other refuse packing materials protruded into the shaftwhere once had been the Hawkins Hydro-Vapor Lift. That fact, I suppose,saved us from eternal smash.
At any rate, I realized after a time that my life had been spared, andsat up on the cement flooring of the cellar.
Hawkins was standing by a steel pillar, smiling blankly. Steam, by thecubic mile, I think, was pouring from the flooring of the Hydro-VaporLift and whirling up the shaft.
I struggled to my feet and tried to walk--and succeeded, very much tomy own astonishment. Shaken and bruised and half dead from the shock Icertainly was, but I could still travel.
I picked up my coat and turned to Hawkins.
"I--I think I'll go home," he said weakly. "I'm not well, Griggs."
We ascended a winding stair and passed through a door at the top, andinstead of reaching the annex we stepped into the lower hall of theBlank Building itself.
The place was full of steam. People were tearing around and yelling"Fire!" at the top of their lungs. Women were screaming. Clerks wereracing back and forth with big books.
Older men appeared here and there, hurriedly making their exit with cashboxes and bundles of documents. There was an exodus to jig-time going onin the Blank Building.
Above it all, a certain man, his face convulsed with anger, shouted atthe crowd that there was no danger--no fire. Hawkins shrank as his eyesfell upon this personage.
"Lord! That's one of the owners!" he said. "I'm going!"
We, too, made for the door, and had almost attained it when a heavy handfell upon the shoulder of Hawkins.
"You're the man I'm looking for!" said the hard, angry tones of theproprietor. "You come back with me! D'ye know what you've done? Hey?D'ye know that you've ruined that elevator shaft? D'ye know that athousand-pound casting dropped on our roof and smashed it and wreckedtwo offices? Oh, you won't slip out like that." He tightened his gripon Hawkins' shoulder. "You've got a little settling to do with me, Mr.Hawkins. And I want that man who was with you, too, for----"
That meant me! A sudden swirl of steam enveloped my person. When it hadlifted, I was invisible.
For my only course had seemed to fold my tents like the Arabs and assilently steal away; only I am certain that no Arab ever did it withgreater expedition and less ostentation than I used on that particularoccasion.
CHAPTER XII.
I had intended it for a peaceful, solitary walk up-town after businesson that beautiful Saturday afternoon; and had in fact accomplished thebetter part of it. I was inhaling huge quantities of the balmy air andreveling in the exhilaration of the exercise.
But passing the picture store, I experienced a queer sensation--perhaps"that feeling of impending evil" we read about in the patent medicineadvertisements.
It may have been because I recalled that in that very shop Hawkins haddemonstrated the virtues of his infallible Lightning Canvas-Stretcher,and thereby ruined somebody's priceless and unpurchasable Corot.
At any rate my eyes were drawn to the place as I passed; and like acuckoo-bird emerging from the clock, out popped Hawkins.
"Ah, Griggs," he exclaimed. "Out for a walk?"
"What were you doing in there?"
"Going to walk home?"
"Settling for that painting, eh?"
"Because if you are, I'll go with you," pursued Hawkins, falling intostep beside me and ignoring my remarks.
I told Hawkins that I should be tickled to death to have his company,which was a lie and intended for biting sarcasm; but Hawkins took it ingood faith and was pleased.
"I tell you, Griggs," he informed me, "there's nothing like this earlysummer air to fill a man's lungs."
"Unless it's cash to fill his pockets."
"Eh? Cash?" said the inventor. "That reminds me. I must spend some thisafternoon."
"Indeed! Going to settle another damage suit?"
"I intend to order coal," replied Hawkins frigidly.
He seemed disinclined to address me further; and I had no particularyearning to hear his voice. We walked on in silence until within a fewblocks of home.
Then Hawkins paused at one of the cross-streets.
"The co
al-yard is down this way, Griggs," he said. "Come along. It won'ttake more than five or ten minutes."
Now, the idea of walking down to the coal-yard certainly seemedcommonplace and harmless. To me it suggested nothing more sinister thana super-heated Irish lady perspiring over Hawkins' range in the dogdays.
At least, it suggested nothing more at the time, and I turned the cornerwith Hawkins and walked on, unsuspecting.
Except that it belonged to a particularly large concern, the coal-yardwhich Hawkins honored by his patronage was much like other coal-yards.The high walls of the storage bins rose from the sidewalk, and therewas the conventional arch for the wagons, and the little, dingy officebeside it.
Into the latter Hawkins made his way, while I loitered without.
Hawkins seemed to be upon good terms with the coal people. He and themen in the office were laughing genially.
Through the open window I heard Hawkins file his order for four tons ofcoal. Later some one said: "Splendid, Mr. Hawkins, splendid."
Then somebody else said: "No, there seems to be no flaw in anyparticular."
And still later, the first voice announced that they would make thefirst payment one week from to-day, at which Hawkins' voice rose with asort of pompous joy.
I paid very little heed to the scraps of conversation; but presentlyI paid considerable attention to Hawkins, for while he had entered thecoal office a well-developed man, he emerged apparently deformed.
His chest seemed to have expanded something over a foot, and his nosehad attained an elevation that pointed his gaze straight to the skies.
"Good gracious, Hawkins, what is it?" I asked. "Have they been inflatingyou with gas in there?"
"I beg pardon?"
"What has happened to swell your bosom? Is it the first payment?"
"Oh, you heard that, did you?" said the inventor, with a condescendingsmile. "Yes, Griggs, I may confess to some slight satisfaction in thatpayment. It is a matter of one thousand dollars--from the coal people,you know."
"But what for? Have you threatened to invent something for them, and noware exacting blackmail to desist?"
"Tush, Griggs, tush!" responded Hawkins. "Do make some attempt to subduethat inane wit. I fancy you'll feel rather cheap hearing that thatthousand dollars is the first payment on something I have invented!"
"What!"
"Certainly. I am selling the patent to these people. It is the HawkinsCrano-Scale!"
"Crano-Scale?" I reflected. "What is it? A hair tonic?"
"Now, that is about the deduction your mental apparatus would make!"sneered the inventor.
"But can it be possible that you have constructed something thatactually works?" I cried. "And you've sold it--actually sold it?"
"I have sold it, and there's no 'actually' about it!"
And Hawkins stalked majestically away through the arch and into the yardbeyond.
The idea of one of Hawkins' inventions actually in practical operationwas almost too weird for conception. He must be heading for it; and ifit existed I must see it.
I followed.
Hawkins strode to the rear of the yard without turning. About us onevery side were high wooden walls, the storage bins of the company.
Up the side of one wall ran a ladder, and Hawkins commenced theperpendicular ascent with the same matter-of-fact air that one wouldwear in walking up-stairs.
"What are you doing that for? Exercise?" I called, when he paused sometwenty-five feet in the air.
"If you wish to see the Crano-Scale at work, follow me. If not, staywhere you are," replied Hawkins.
Then he resumed his upward course; and having put something likethirty-five feet between his person and the solid earth, he vanishedthrough a black doorway.
Climbing a straight ladder usually sets my hair on end; but this one Itackled without hesitation, and in a very few seconds stood before thedoor.
In the semi-darkness, I perceived that a wide ledge ran around the wallinside, and that Hawkins was standing upon it, gazing upon the hundredsof tons of coal below, and having something the effect of the Old Nickhimself glaring down into the pit.
"There she is!" said the inventor laconically, pointing across the gulf.
I made my way to his side and stared through the gloom.
Something seemed to loom up over there.
Presently, as my eyes grew accustomed to the change, I perceived the armof a huge crane, from which was suspended an enormous scoop.
"You mean that mastodonic coal-scuttle?" I inquired.
"Precisely. That's the Hawkins Crano-Scale."
"And what does she do when she--er--crano-scales things, as it were?"
"You'll be able to understand in a moment. That coal-scuttle, as youcall it, is large enough to hold four tons. See? Well, the people in theyard are going to want two tons of coal very shortly. What do they do?"
"Take it out, weigh it, and send it," I hazarded.
"Not at all. They simply adjust the controlling apparatus to the two-tonpoint, and set the Crano-Scale going. The scoop dips down, picks upexactly two tons of coal, and rises automatically as soon as the twotons are in. After that the crane swings outward, dumps the coal in thewagon, and there you have it--weighed and all! It has been in operationhere for one month," Hawkins concluded complacently.
"And no one killed or maimed? No Crano-Scale widows or orphans?"
"Oh, Griggs, you are--Ha! She's starting!"
The Crano-Scale emitted an ear-piercing shriek. The big steel crane wasin motion.
I watched the thing. Gracefully the coal-scuttle dipped into the pile ofcoal, dug for a minute, swung upward again. It turned, passed througha big doorway in the side, and we could hear the coal rattling into thewagon.
The Crano-Scale returned and swung ponderously in the twilight.
"There!" cried Hawkins triumphantly.
"It works!" I gasped.
"You bet it works!"
"But it must cost something to run the thing," I suggested.
"Well--er--I'm paying for that part," Hawkins acknowledged, "until I'vefinished perfecting a motor particularly adapted for the Crano-Scale,you see."
I smiled audibly. I think that Hawkins was about to take exception tothe smile, but a voice from without bawled loudly:
"Two--tons--nut!"
"Ah, there she goes again!" said the inventor rapturously.
This time the Crano-Scale executed a sudden detour before descending.Indeed, the thing came so painfully near to our perch that the wind wasperceptible, and when the giant coal-scuttle had passed and dropped, myheart was hammering out a tattoo.
"I don't believe this ledge is safe, Hawkins," I said.
"Nonsense."
"But that thing came pretty close."
"Oh, it won't act that way again. Watch! She's dumping into the wagonnow! Hear it?"
"Yes, I hear it. I see just what a beautiful success it is,Hawkins--really. Let's go."
"And now she's coming back!" cried the inventor, his eyes glued to theremarkable contrivance. "Observe the ease--the grace--the mechanicalpoise--the resistless quality of the Crano-Scale's motion! See, Griggs,how she swings!"
I did see how she was swinging. It was precisely that which sent menearer to the ladder.
The Crano-Scale was returning to position, but with a series of erraticswoops that seemed to close my throat.
The coal-scuttle whirled joyously about in the air--it was receding--no,it was coming nearer! It paused for a second. Then, making a bee-linefor our little ledge, it dived through the air toward us.
"Look out, there, Hawkins!" I cried, hastily.
"It's all right," said the inventor.
"But the cursed thing will smash us flat against the wall!"
"Tush! The automatic reacting clutch will----"
The Crano-Scale was upon us! For the merest fraction of a second itpaused and seemed to hesitate; then it struck the wall with a heavybang; then started to scrape its way along our ledge.
The
wretched contraption was bent on shoving us off!
"What will we do?" I managed to shout.
"Why--why--why--why--why----" Hawkins cried breathlessly.
But, my course of action had been settled for me. The scoop of theCrano-Scale caught me amidships, and I plunged downward into the coal.
That there was a considerable degree of shock attached to my landing mayeasily be imagined.
But small coal, as I had not known before, is a reasonably soft thing tofall on; and within a few seconds I sat up, perceived that I was soon toorder a new suit of clothes, and then looked about for Hawkins.
He was nowhere in the neighborhood, and I called aloud.
"We--ll?" came a voice from far above.
"Where are you?"
"Hanging--to--the--scoop!" sang out the inventor.
And there, up near the roof, I located him, dangling from theCrano-Scale coal-scuttle!
"What are you going to do next?" I asked, with some interest.
"I--I--I can't--can't hang on long here!"
"I should say not."
"Well, climb out and tell them to lower the crane!" screamed Hawkins.
I looked around. Right and left, before and behind, rose a mountainof loose coal. I essayed to climb nimbly toward the door which theCrano-Scale had used, and suddenly landed on my hands and knees.
"Are--you--out?" shrieked Hawkins. "I can't stick here!"
"And I can't get out!" I replied.
"Well, you--ouch!"
There was a dull, rattling whack beside me; bits of coal flew in alldirections. Hawkins had landed.
"Well!" he exclaimed, sitting up. "I honestly believe, Griggs, thatno man was ever born on this earth with less resourcefulness thanyourself!"
"Which means that I should have climbed out and informed the people ofyour plight?"
"Certainly."
"Well, you try it yourself, Hawkins."
The inventor arose and started for the door with a very convincing andelaborate display of indomitable energy. He planted his left footfirmly on the side of the coal pile--and found that his left leg haddisappeared in the coal in a highly astonishing and undignified fashion.
"Humph!" he remarked disgustedly, struggling free and shaking somethinglike a pound of coal dust from his person. "Perhaps--perhaps it's moresolid on the other side."
"Try it."
"Well, it is better to try it and fail than to stand there like acigar-store Indian and offer fool suggestions!" snapped the inventor,making a vicious attack at the opposite side of the pile.
It really did seem more substantial. Hawkins, by the aid of both hands,both feet, his elbows, his knees, and possibly his teeth as well,managed to scramble upward for a dozen feet or so.
But just as he was about to turn and gloat over his success, thetreacherous coal gave way once more. Hawkins went flat upon his face andslid back to me, feet first.
When he arose he presented a remarkable appearance.
Light overcoat, pearl trousers, fancy vest--all were black as ink.Hawkins' classic countenance had fared no better. His lips showed someslight resemblance of redness, and his eyes glared wonderfully white;but the rest of his face might have been made up for a minstrel show.
"Yes, it's devilish funny, isn't it?" he roared, sitting down againrather suddenly as the coal slid again beneath his feet.
"Funny isn't the word. What's our next move to be?"
"Climb out, of course. There must be some place where we can get afoothold."
"Why not shout for help?"
"No use. Nobody could hear us down here. Go on, Griggs. Make yourattempt. I've done my part."
"And you wish to see me repeat the performance? Thank you. No."
"But it's the only way out."
"Then," I said, "I'm afraid we're slated to spend the night here."
"Good Lord! We can't do that!"
"I have a notion, Hawkins," I went on, "that we not only can, but shall.You say we can't attract any one's attention, and I guess you're right.Hence, as there is no one to pull us out, and we can't pull ourselvesout, we shall remain here. That's logic, isn't it?"
"It's awful!" exclaimed the inventor. "Why, we may not get outto-morrow----"
"Nor the next day, nor the one after that. Exactly. We shall have towait until this wretched place is emptied, when they will find ourbleaching skeletons--if skeletons can bleach in a coal bin."
Hawkins blinked his sable eyelids at me.
"Or we might go to work and pile all the coal on one side of the bin," Icontinued. "It wouldn't take more than a week or so, throwing it overby handfuls; and when at last they found that your crano-engine wouldn'tbring up any more from this side----"
"Aha!" cried the inventor, with sudden animation. "That's it! TheCrano-Scale!"
"Yes, that's it," I assented. "Away up near the roof. What about it?"
"Why, it solves the whole problem," said Hawkins. "Don't you see, thenext time they need nut-coal, they'll set the engine going and thescoop----"
"Four--tons--nut, Bill!" said a faraway voice. "Yep! Four ton. Start upthat blamed machine!"
"What? What did he say?" cried the inventor.
"Something about starting the engine."
"That's what I thought. They're going to use the Crano-Scale, Griggs!We're saved! We're saved!"
"I fail to see it."
"Why, when the thing comes down, be ready. Ah--it's coming now! Getready, Griggs! Get ready! Be prepared to make a dash for it!"
"And then?"
"And then climb in, of course. There won't be much room, for they'regoing to take on four tons, and the thing will be full; but we canmanage it. We can do it, Griggs, and be home in time for dinner."
"And you're a fine looking object to go to dinner," I added.
Hawkins' countenance fell somewhat, but there was no time for a reply.The coal-scuttle of the Crano-Scale was hovering above us, evidentlyselecting a spot for its operations.
"Here! We're right under it!" Hawkins shouted. "This way, Griggs! Quick!Lord! It's coming down--it'll hit you! Quick!"
And I dived toward Hawkins as he was struggling for a foothold, andthen----
* * * * *
A line of asterisks is the only way of putting into print my state ofmind--or absence of any state of mind--for the ensuing quarter of anhour.
My first idea was that some absent-minded person had built a three-storyhouse upon my unhappy body; but I was joggling and bouncing up and down,so that that hypothesis was manifestly untenable.
The weight of the house was there, though, and all about was stiflingblackness.
I tried to turn. It was useless. I couldn't move.
The house had me pinned down hard and fast.
Then I wriggled frantically, and something near me wriggled franticallyas well. Then one of my hands struck something that yielded, and therecame a muffled voice from somewhere in the neighborhood.
"Griggs!" it said.
"Yes?"
"W-w-w-where are we? This isn't the coal bin. Are you hurt?"
"I give it up. Are you?"
"I think not. Why, Griggs, this must be one of the big coal carts!"
"I shouldn't wonder," I assented vaguely.
"But--how----"
"Your miserable coal-scuttle must have stunned us, picked us up anddumped us in with the coal!" I exclaimed, suddenly enlightened.
"Do--you--think," came through the blackness. "Huh! It's stopped!"
For a long, long time, as it seemed, there was silence. The weight ofcoal pressed down until I was near to madness. Hawkins was gruntingpainfully.
I was speculating as to whether he was actually succumbing--whether Icould stand the strain myself for another minute--when everything beganto slide. The coal slid, I slid, Hawkins slid--the world seemed to besliding!
We landed upon the sidewalk. We struggled and beat and threshed at thecoal, and finally managed to rise out of it--pitch black, dazed andbattered.
&
nbsp; And the first object which confronted us was the home of Hawkins! We hadbeen delivered at his door, with the four tons of nut-coal.
"They'll have to sign for us on the driver's slip," I remember saying.
That person let off one shriek and vanished down the street. Then thedoor of the Hawkins home opened, and Mrs. Hawkins emerged, followed bymy wife.
That numerous things were said need not be stated. Mrs. Hawkins saidmost of them, and they were luminous.
Mrs. Griggs limited herself to ruining a fifty-dollar gown by weeping onmy coal-soiled shoulder as she implored me never again to tread the samestreet with Hawkins.
It was a solemn moment, that; for I saw the light. I realized how manybumps and bruises and pains and duckings and scorchings might have beenspared me, had I taken the step earlier.
But it is never too late to mend. Probably I had still a few years inwhich to enjoy life.
I turned to Hawkins--a chopfallen, cowering huddle of filth, standingupon two pearl-and-black legs--and said:
"Hawkins, when in the course of human events it becomes necessary forone man to sever those friendly bands which have connected him withanother, and to assume a station apart, a decent respect for theopinions of the latter usually make it necessary to declare the causeof that separation. It is not so in this case. You know mighty well whatyou've put me through in the past. There's no need of going into it.
"But this Crano-Scale business is my limit--my outside limit," I wenton, "and you've passed it. If you ever attempt to address another wordto me, or ride in the same elevated train, or even sit in the sametheatre, I'll have you arrested as a suspicious person--and locked upfor life, if money'll do it! Hawkins, henceforth we meet as strangers!"
And Hawkins, piloted by the unhappy woman who bears his name, walked upthe steps, turned and stared stupidly at me, and then stumbled into thehouse and out of my life--forever.
Mr. Hawkins' Humorous Adventures Page 11