by Don Wilcox
It didn’t take long. It was Allan’s first demonstration of the high skill that Pakkerman had acquired in sifting the throngs. The Doc went directly to the icy blue section where air passengers could be found. He skimmed over it hastily. His eyes must have developed the qualities of a fine toothed comb. This area didn’t give. Next, Pakkerman moved over a neighboring patch, walking the length of it. Allan, tiptoeing and ducking down on hands and knees when in danger of being discovered, got close enough to identify this area as the group of air passengers who had just arrived at some port or other.
Neither did this forest of mirrors yield the desired person. Pakkerman suddenly whirled, and there was something of alarm in his manner. He would hit it right this time. Allan guessed what was coming, and his heart-beat quickened. The groups of airplane accidents!
A moment later Pakkerman had found her. He stooped with the sudden nervous motion of one who has found a clue to the recovery of some treasured possession. He bent to his hands and knees. He had found her.
“The tower!”
Pakkerman’s low spoken words were uttered in a tone of relief, Allan thought. Pakkerman wasted no more time at the mirror, but bolted to his feet and strode off toward the glide-walk, a man who knew exactly where he was going.
Allan looked after him. If Pakkerman had ever caught sight of Allan during these recent minutes of his bold shadowing, he had given no indication of it. He had been much too intent, from the moment of his discovery of the copper statuette, to think of anything else but Madam Lasanda.
He was still carrying the little treasure as he disappeared in the darkness around the side of the cone.
“Not now,” Allan thought aloud, staring after him. The business of dispatching this tool of the Scravvzek would have to wait. He couldn’t bring himself to murder after what he had just seen.
CHAPTER XL
Suddenly Allan broke out of his weird confused thoughts to remember that he hadn’t made contact with Sue and Jimmy. Where had they gone? Had Sully and his men overtaken them? Allan had better pick up the trail and see what had happened.
But first, he remembered, he must do something about that glass of poison that he had left sitting on the ledge.
Two minutes later he was running like a demon.
“Sue! Sue! Don’t! SUUUUE! JIMMMEEE! NO-O-O-O!!! DON’T DO IT!” He yelled like a fire alarm, and raced down the side of the cone like a bullet.
At the fountain where an inviting stream of water came through the wall and ran away in a snaky little rivulet, Sue and Jimmy had stopped with the intention of refreshing themselves.
Jimmy saw that there was a glass of liquid waiting to be consumed, and he remarked that what was good enough for Doc Pakkerman was good enough for him. He picked up the glass.
Sue shook her head. “Now Jimmy Ruggles, you had all the drinking for today that anyone ought to have, and if you take a sip out of that glass, I’ll not be responsible for what happens.”
“It’s not ordinary water,” Jimmy said, squinting at the dark liquid. “Kinda foggy. . . Here, Sue, you try it, an’ I promise not to touch a drop if you say it ain’t good fer me. Okay?”
“Okay,” Sue said. She took the glass. “To you.” She lifted it to her lips.
The wild yell of Allan came to her ears from somewhere up the side of the cone. She hesitated.
“He’s lookin’ ‘for us,” Jimmy said. “Let’s take a quick drink an’ go to him.”
“To you,” she repeated, ignoring the yell of Allan. Again she lifted the glass to her lips, and would have drunk—
The luminous green fingers of the Scravvzek came out of nowhere and struck at her.
Two hands of six fingers each, bobbing out of the shadows along the wall, caught her around the waist and jerked her backward. The glass of liquid jumped out of her hands and fell to the floor with a crash. Jimmy stepped back as the dark liquid streamed around his shoes. Then for the first time he saw the luminous green fingers. The weird light opened his eyes wide, and his jaw dropped.
The voice of Allan cut in on their awe-struck moment.
“Sue! Did you drink it! Did you?” Allan was running toward them. The sight of green fingers must have escaped him. He burst through them. He clutched Sue by the shoulders and started shaking her. “Did you, Sue? Did you drink it? It’s deadly poison. Did you—”
“Yeee-ippeeee!” Sue cried weirdly, rolling her eyes at the green fingers that had her.
“You mean you did?”
“I mean I never. Yeee-ipp-eeee! Get me out of this!”
CHAPTER XLI
Allan tore into the Scravvzek claws like a demon fighting a demon. Most of the time he found himself fighting the air, but whenever he thought he had fought it into nothing, he’d look to one side, and there it was again. He clawed at it like a threshing machine.
The luminous stuff had no feeling to it. His fists went right through it, even where it was thickest. Presently, unaccountably, he seemed to have got Sue out of it. She moved back, whirling with the awful terror of thinking it must still be attacking her from one side or another. But she was in the clear, now. Between her and Allan, Jimmy was fighting the air as lively as any prize fighter.
“Get her away,” Allan yelled. “Don’t mind me, get her away!”
Jimmy obeyed, and Sue was plenty ready to cooperate. She was wailing some half-forgotten song under her breath, too excited to know whether she was singing it or crying it. Forty or fifty yards beyond the arch, they called to Allan to get himself free.
It was strange that the fingers hadn’t paid much heed to Jimmy, even though he had tried to scrap with them the same as Allan was doing. Once they had pushed him over when he had got in the way, and had rolled him like a barrel into the stone wall. But he had backed away from the fight with the feeling that he hadn’t done an ounce of good.
“Get yourself out of it, captain,” Jimmy yelled, “or I’ll come back and help you.”
Allan seemed to have eluded the fingers several times, but whenever he got almost to the arch, they tackled him again. Sue and Jimmy edged back toward the opposite side of the arch, watching the strange behavior of the phenomenon.
“I’m all right,” Allan said. “It isn’t hurting me. I can’t even feel the heat. I’ll get free in a minute or two. Why don’t you folks go up the cone and find out what’s happened to the mayor’s party?” He struck out at an attacking hand of light that seemed to be urging him toward the wall. It melted away and he stood breathing heavily. “Go ahead, Sue. The mayor and the fortune teller and their plane are caught at the top of the tower. It caught them like a rubber net. I saw it happen. Doc Pakkerman’s gone up to rescue them. Why don’t you—”
Jimmy was suddenly dancing with the abandon of a clown turned out of jail. “Then you didn’t do it, Captain! You didn’t kill him!”
Jimmy started forward as if to shake Allan’s hand, but traces of green light were bobbing about again. Jimmy stood back.
“I was all set to do it;” Allan admitted. “But after I saw him at the mirror of her—well, maybe I went soft for a minute. Besides, he wasn’t under the Scravvzek glow just then. It seemed to have let go of him.”
Jimmy murmured words of such relief that Allan thought he was going to blubber. Sue declared she didn’t believe Allan would ever do it. There would be some other way, she said. Not violence but something else.
“I admit I thought the plan was wise and necessary,” she said, tangling herself up in thoughts too big for her. “It seemed right that just a little violence here could save a lot of violence out there in the big world.” She gestured toward the cone. Then with a comical wink at Jimmy, who was lost in the serious, thoughts of what might have been, she added, “However, before we give Allan a star for kindness, we should check up. Are you sure, Allan, that you got merciful? Or did you just try and fail?”
“I did try,” Allan admitted. “I had the trap set . . . But I did change my mind.”
“How were you going to do it
?”
Allan slapped at a lingering finger of green light and moved back a few steps. He pointed to the wall. “I had that drinking glass full of poison—”
“Oh, yes!” Sue put a hand to her throat and made believe she was gagging. Earlier, she had been too preoccupied with Scravvzek fingers to realize what had happened. “We almost—yes—both of us—we were going to—” she gave a double gulp. “I don’t understand this at all. The Scravvzek saved us. We’d have died if those Scravvzek fingers hadn’t stopped us! It would have happened—”
“You’re damned right it would have!” another voice cut in harshly. It was Sully, marching out of the shadows, followed by, his squad of five Green Coats. “Your captain meant to poison the two of you. He’ll get you next time!”
The squad marched in as if they meant to force Sue, Jimmy, and Allan back against the wall.
Sue gave a little cry of terror. She had had about all she could stand. If it hadn’t been for Allan and Jimmy she’d have taken to her heels like a runaway rabbit.
Her heart was all rabbit, in that awful minute. Allan couldn’t reason with them. From the hour that she had heard Allan’s story of their strange behavior, she was convinced that the White Sharks meant to get him and make an end of him.
Poor, trusting guy! He’d come into this godforsaken world with the idea of helping a batch of men who had once called him captain.
Poor, trusting guy. They had him now. They had probably urged the Scravvzek fingers to get him under control so they could march in and claim him. Sue felt sick. The moment to run was already past. She was just a rabbit, an awfully sick one; maybe a dead one.
“So we have with us Captain Burgess,” Sully sneered. “Step forward, Captain. We’ve got a few honors to bestow on you.” His voice was reeking with sarcasm. “We’ve got to reward you for many things. How about it, boys?”
The Green Coats were in for some sort of desperate dealing, Sue knew. They stood waiting for Allan to advance.
Strangely, Allan was moving a little apart from them. He was, more accurately, being moved. The Scravvzek fingers, barely visible to Sue’s eyes were urging him as if they had ideas all their own.
So the Scravvzek was not in league with Sully, Sue thought. Something strange was going to happen, for sure, if Sully blundered head-on against the will of those green fingers. Apparently he didn’t see them. He was blazing with anger because Allan hadn’t obeyed instantly.
“Come here!” Sully roared, slapping the air with his club.
Sue thought that Allan’s face reddened. No, not just his face-his neck and shoulders—it was a faint globe of orange light forming about him.
Sue pointed. She couldn’t speak. Jimmy nodded. He must have seen—
Sully didn’t see. He was puffing up with white rage, and the Green Coats were trying to hold him back. They muttered a reminder that he had made a boast to the Scravvzek. He was going to prove that he could set friend against friend by use of Scravvzek poison. He wouldn’t murder outright. He would get friends to murder friends.
Sully shook off his advisers and turned his verbal attack on Jimmy and Sue. It gave him a means of ignoring Allan’s defiance. He taunted them, wallowing in his deep sarcastic tones.
“You two silly babes in the woods. You let the captain lie to you. Do you think he set that trap for Pakkerman? What trusting souls you are. He went all the way back to the Black River to fill a bottle because he knew you were in a drinking mood. The next time you turn your back—well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Or will you get wise and rub him out first? Just say the word, and I’ll do the job for you, here and now. I’m in the mood. What about it? Shall I—shall I—”
It was at this point in Sully’s glorious murderous speech that he turned to shake his club at Allan. He stopped talking gradually. His voice trailed off into a breathless silence. He stared.
What he saw was the form of Allan, standing within a shell of orange fire. Green fingers of fire were pressing at Allan’s sides, and there were other half visible fingertips feeling their way nervously along the stone floor toward Sully and the Green Coats.
The Green Coats were backing away, struck speechless. Sully’s hard jaw sagged. The club slipped from his hands and might have clattered to the floor, but the green fingers caught it, melted it, and there was nothing but a faint wisp of smoke.
A shout from a little distance announced that Bandyworth and his search party were hurrying over the ground to join Sully. Their call received no response from Sully. Bandyworth’s loud chatter choked off as he strode up. His men stared in awed silence.
It was Bandyworth who said it. His low, terrorized whisper was like the warning of deadly lightning about to strike. He pointed.
“It’s the Scravvzek!”
Sully shook his head. In a trembling voice he tried to deny it. “It’s Burgess. Captain Burgess!”
Allan Burgess, staring hard through the strange world of orange fire that had accumulated around him, drew his arms up slowly. The crowd began to edge back. He took a step forward. They were scrambling over each other, now, in a panic to move out of reach.
“Stop!” Allan shouted. His voice amplified as if it had rolled through a hundred caverns, gathering thunder from everyone. The arch behind him shuddered and fell into a heap of stones.
His command to stop had been obeyed as if his very voice had paralyzed his listeners. He moved forward another step and placed his fists against his hips in an attitude of confident power.
“Salute!” Allan said quietly, though the walls and ceilings rumbled from the weight of his soft-spoken command.
Every Green Coat saluted. So did Bandyworth and Sully.
So did Jimmy.
And even Sue.
“Now go, all of you,” Allan said in slow-spoken thunderous words. “I’ll call you when I want you.”
They went, and Sue guessed that some of them would limp for weeks from the scramble of going.
CHAPTER XLII
The mayor and his party were stranded at the top of the spire. They weren’t very happy over it. No one had foreseen the crash but Madam Lasanda. Her warning had gone unheeded.
“It was that damn pilot’s fault. He should have seen it coming.” Bill Gavor muttered.
Charley Spandoak shook his head. The fantastic fact was, he hadn’t seen the spire until the last split second. It had materialized out of nowhere. But even more mysterious was the strange rubber-like action of the spire. It had caught the plane like an elastic net. All five persons aboard had lived through the crash.
“This mountain is a phoney,” Charley said, clinging tight to the almost vertical side, he kicked at a flake of rock. It chipped off and fell, bouncing off the mayor’s shoulders on the way.
“Careful, you rotter!” Mayor Channing yelled. The whipping breeze took the edge off his curses. He called down to Madam Lasanda several feet below him. “Are you safe down there?”
“As long as they don’t kick rocks in my face,” she called back.
The mayor made his way down. The spire of stone was so slender at this elevation that he would have as willingly climbed down the side of a smoke stack. The plane, somewhat crumpled, was perched near the point, like a broken weathervane on a steeple. He was haunted by the fear that it would shake loose and fall any minute, and they would all be carried to their death.
“There’s a shelf down here,” Madam Lasanda called much too cheerfully. “Room for one or two more.”
Bill Gavor shouted down, “What happened to that hunk of copper you were huggin?”
Madam Lasanda admitted that it had slipped from her hands and fallen. She heard Bill Gavor and Charley Spandoak chuckle.
The pilot stayed with the stranded wreckage long enough to rescue a small portable radio. He hung it on his belt before he started to descend. The boys were growling at him for crashing. He crawled around the column out of their sight and managed to bypass them. Presently he joined Madam Lasanda and the mayor on a lower level.
“We’re alive,” Madam Lasanda reminded him. “If we can get down as far as that big diamond, we might have a path or ladders or something.”
The boys crowded down onto the same shelf, which mercifully held up under all the weight. The mayor began to moan. High places didn’t agree with him. He was getting sick.
The parachutes had been caught in the folds of metal. The pilot insisted there was no use trying to dig them out. Besides the plane was barely hanging on. A touch might bring it down on all their heads.
“Listen,” Madam Lasanda said “I thought I heard some pounding.” She pressed an ear to the stone. “It sounds like footsteps echoing up.”
“Where would they come from?”
“Down in this mountain. This was where I was bringing you. This is where the Yippee girl came.”
“If she’s stringing us,” Bill Gavor growled, “she’s sure done a thorough job of it.”
Charley Spandoak said he’d been strung before, but never hamstrung like this.
“We’re getting nowhere,” said the mayor, forgetting his dizziness. “If you boys won’t figure out a plan, I will. Let’s make a rope out of our clothes and lower ourselves to that diamond. Then we’ll see about that path.”
“Whose clothes?” Bill Gavor asked testily. “I’ve got a better plan.”
He kicked a rock loose and tossed it down. They watched it fall and listened for the crash. The sounds were lost in the depths.
The mayor scowled. “That’s strange, I didn’t hear a thing.”
“If there’s anybody down there, we ought to be able to arouse ‘em,” Bill Gavor said. He kicked at another rock. The edge of the shelf gave way and his feet went down. Charley jumped for him. The two of them went sprawling over the edge.