CHAPTER VII.
Shining slime crawled up the small floats at the ends of the lowerwing. It crept along the under surface, and then dripped in thick ropesdown to the surface below. When contact was established the ropes grewfat and wider, until they were like shining columns from the silver seato the now heavily weighted plane. The disgusting stuff crept over theedges of the lower plane, and began to spread over its upper surface.Other masses began to creep up the struts that separated the lowerplane from the top.
The three men began to work like mad. They tore strips from the roofof the cabin and began feverishly to scrape off and thrust away theinsistently advancing enemy. The plane was a large one, however, andno sooner had they scraped clear one portion of the plane than anotherportion was covered even more thickly than the first. The cabin itselfbegan to be attacked. Its lower portion already glistened like metal,and in a little while the silvery film began to cover the glass of thewindows. Nita began to be frightened. Parts of the roof had been tornaway to provide the three men--Davis, Gerrod, and the engineer--withthe means of fighting the creeping horror. When the slime reached theroof and began, to pour down the opening there, the whole cabin wouldbecome a terrible, suffocating tank of the horrible stuff. Evelyn spokequietly, though with a white face.
"If you start the motors the wind from the propellers may blow thejelly away from the cabin."
The engineer leaped to one of the propellers and swung his weight uponit. The engine turned sluggishly, and then coughed. A second desperateheave. The motor began to run with a roar. The surface of the slimeon which the blast of wind beat shivered, and then reluctantly beganto retreat. The second motor burst into bellowing activity. The wholeplane began to shiver and tremble from the efforts of the powerfulengines to draw it forward, but the jelly in which it was gripped stillheld it fast. The three men redoubled their efforts, and now some faintresult began to show. Hampered by the vibrations which strove to shakeit off, the Silver Menace advanced less rapidly. In half an hour theupper surface of the plane was nearly free. There was nearly a solidwall of silver horror connecting its under portion with the jelliedocean below.
Davis came to the cabin window, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"There's only one chance," he shouted above the roar of the engines."I've got to fling hand grenades into the sea just ahead of us. Theymay clear a way for us to rise."
Nita silently began to pass him up the small but deadly missiles. Herface was set and utterly pale, but she was rising to the emergency withspirit.
An explosion sounded fifty yards away. Another thirty yards away. Athird but twenty yards away, and the plane heaved and leaped from theconcussion. The blast of air nearly blew the three men from the wingsinto the waiting mass of animalcules. A huge volume of ill-smellingspume was cast upon the plane, and by its velocity washed away a greatportion of the Silver Menace that still clung to it. The propellersdragged at the plane, and it suddenly darted forward down the narrowlane of open water cleared by the three explosions. All three of themen were clinging to struts out on the plane and there was no one atthe controls, but Nita bravely grasped the joy stick, and as the end ofthe open water drew rapidly near she jerked it backward with an inwardprayer. The plane lifted sluggishly, scraped the top of the silver sea,and rose. With an inexperienced pilot at the wheel, with the three menprecariously balanced on the wings, it headed straight for the broadestpart of the Atlantic.
The motors roared as the plane continued to rise. Nita was white-facedand frightened, but Davis' life was depending upon her. With an amazingcoolness, despite the lump in her throat that threatened to choke her,she swung the steering wheel as she had seen Davis do. The plane turnedin a wide half circle and headed for the shore again, still rising.Davis, out on the wing, took a desperate chance. He motioned wildly toEvelyn, who flung wide the side window. Then, diving as in a footballgame, Davis flung himself for the opening. His hands caught in theframe and he drew himself inside. As he laid his hands on the controlsNita incontinently fainted, but Evelyn was there to attend to her,and Davis sped for home at the topmost speed of which the plane wascapable, the other two men still clinging to the struts far out on thewings.
* * * * *
Alexander Morrison, steamship magnate and many times a millionaire,looked helplessly from the window of his library. His daughter, Nita,was visiting Evelyn Gerrod, a college classmate, and there was no oneto sympathise with him in his misfortune. He faced absolute ruin. Thewhole world faced death, but that did not impress Morrison as much asthe absolute financial disaster that had come upon him. His ships, attheir docks, were useless and already incrusted with the silvery slimethat threatened the whole earth. His whole fortune was invested inthose vessels. When the government had thrown up its hands over theproblem of checking the invasion of the Silver Menace, far less ofclearing the seas again, Morrison had gone hopelessly to his littlecountry home on one of the infrequent islands of the Hudson. It was ahigh and rocky little island, and his house was built upon the top ofits single peak. He could look out upon the now solid Hudson and seemiles and miles of the silver, evil-smelling jelly.
A little bridge connected the island with the mainland, to which awell-made, winding road led down. Morrison stared through his closedlibrary window--closed to keep out the slimy, disgusting odor of theSilver Menace--and cursed the microscopic animals that had ruined allcommerce and now threatened to destroy humanity. Of all his great fleetbut two of the smallest vessels remained afloat. They were high up innorthern seas, still unvisited by the jellylike animalcules. Where histramp steamers and passenger lines had visited nearly every port uponthe globe, now two small ships plied between Greenland and the mostnorthern part of the American continent.
The silvery jelly was clambering up the rocky shores of his littleisland, but beyond cursing it Morrison paid no attention. He wasabsorbed in his misfortune, utterly preoccupied with the calamitythat had overwhelmed him. For two days he moved restlessly about hishouse, smoking innumerable cigars, eating hardly anything, thinking ofnothing but the extent of the disaster to his fortune. He had offeredhalf a million dollars to whoever developed a successful means ofcombating the Silver Menace. Other men whose wealth, like his own, wassolely invested in ocean transportation had joined him in offeringrewards, until now a purse of two and a half millions awaited thesuccessful inventor. Multitudes of freak proposals had been made, themajority of them suggesting that sea gulls be trained to eat the silveranimalcules, or that fish be bred in large numbers to consume them. Inpractice, of course, neither fish or birds would touch the disgustingjelly. The arctic seas were teeming with practically all the fish fromthe Atlantic Ocean. For once the Eskimos had no difficulty in securingenough to eat. The inhabitants of the seas in which the Silver Menacehad appeared, without exception, fled from its sticky masses.
Morrison remained shut up in his house, sunk in despondency and gloom,while the silvery jelly crept up the shores of his little island slowlybut surely, higher and higher day by day. His butler came to him with awhite face.
"Mr. Morrison, sir," said the butler hesitatingly, "the gardener says,sir, that that there silver stuff is creepin' up higher, sir."
"All right, let it creep!" snapped Morrison angrily.
"But, sir," ventured the butler once more, "it's creepin' up on thebridge."
"Have it shoveled down again," said Morrison irritably. "Don't botherme."
The butler went out of the room, and ten minutes later the twogardeners went down to the bridge with shovels. They scraped andshoveled industriously, and when darkness fell the bridge was clear.But next morning showed the bridge a mass of shining silver, and notonly the bridge, but fifty or a hundred yards of the roadway and turfleading up to it. The animalcules had come upon the green grass andit had been used for food, so that they were multiplying rapidly. Thecreeping movement of the silvery tide could be distinctly seen. Thebutler came to Morrison in a panic.
"Oh, Mr. Morrison, sir," he s
aid tremulously, "the bridge is coveredagain and the horrible stuff is coming up to the house. You can see itmove, sir. We'll all be suffocated when it catches us, sir."
Morrison shook his head impatiently.
"Don't bother me."
The butler was trembling fitfully, "Beg pardon, sir, but the men saysas they won't stay no longer, and they're going to try to get over thebridge to the mainland, sir."
"Very well, let them."
The butler left the room. Presently Morrison heard an uproar outside.The butler was protesting at the top of his voice against something.Morrison went out to see what was the matter. Even his indifferencewas penetrated by the sight he saw. The silvery slime had crept upto a point but a hundred yards from the house, and was still slowlyadvancing. Half a dozen servants were bringing out one of Morrison'scars, and were evidently planning to make a dash in it, despite theefforts of the butler to hold them back. Morrison stepped forward.
"Wait a moment, James," he said quietly. "Let the men have the car,but it would be better for one to make the attempt first. There's nouse all risking their lives until we know whether there's a chance ofsuccess."
His chauffeur was hastily tuning up a motor cycle.
"I'll make a try, sir," he said grimly. "I'll circle the house once ortwice until I get up speed, and then shoot for the bridge. I think I'llmake it."
Morrison nodded. The motor cycle caught and began to run. The chauffeurcircled the lawn once--twice. His machine was running at a terrificspeed. He came around the third time, swung on the handlebars, andshot straight for the bridge. The silvery slime shot away from hisfront wheels in twin waves as he cut through the mass. The throttlewas wide open and the engine worked manfully. Straight for the bridgehe went, plowing through the thick, sticky mass. Then the accumulatedvolume of jelly before him broke down the impetus of his cycle. Inspite of all he could do it slowed down, down. It tottered weakly andfell. The chauffeur leaped from it and plunged forward. He slippedand fell, then struggled to his feet again. Five feet more, ten feetmore. He was like an animated statue of burnished metal. Thick ropesof silver clung to him as he struggled forward. No man could keep upsuch exertions. He labored with almost insane force, but his progressbecame slower and slower. At last he moved forward no more, but stillstraggled weakly. Then he toppled gently from his feet. The slimecovered him silently and placidly. The watchers gasped. The silver tidegrew slowly toward the house.
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