on his heels. There was a sharp crack as the shell of the insect broke under the sharpness of his blow.
“That did it; that’ll do it!” he shouted. Then he leaped again.
“Let me,” said the Big Business Man. “I’m heavier”; and he, too, stamped upon the rug with his heels.
They could hear the huge shell of the insect’s back smash under his weight, and when he jumped again, the squash of its body as he mashed it down.
“Wait,” said the Doctor. “We’ve killed it.”
They eased upon the rug a little, but there was no movement from beneath.
“Jump on it harder,” said the Very Young Man. “Don’t let’s take a chance. Mash it good.”
The Big Business Man continued stamping violently upon the rug; joined now by the Very Young Man. The Doctor sat on the floor beside it, breathing heavily; the Banker lay in a heap at its foot in utter collapse.
As they stamped, the rug continued to flatten down; it sank under their tread with a horrible, sickening, squashing sound.
“Let’s look,” suggested the Very Young Man. “It must be dead”; and he threw back a corner of the rug. The men turned sick and faint at what they saw.
Underneath the rug, mashed against the floor, lay a great, noisome, semi-liquid mass of brown and white. It covered nearly the entire under-surface of the rug—a hundred pounds, perhaps, of loathsome pulp and shell, from which a stench arose that stopped their breathing.
With a muttered imprecation the Doctor flung back the rug to cover it, and sprang to his feet, steadying himself against a chair.
“We killed it in time, thank God,” he murmured and dropped into the chair, burying his face in his hands.
For a time silence fell upon the room, broken only by the labored breathing of the four men. Then the Big Business Man sat up suddenly. “Oh, my God, what an experience!” he groaned, and got unsteadily to his feet.
The Very Young Man helped the Banker up and led him to a seat by the window, which he opened, letting in the fresh, cool air of the night.
“How did the drug get loose, do you suppose?” asked the Very Young Man, coming back to the center of the room. He had recovered his composure somewhat, though he was still very pale. He lighted a cigarette and sat down beside the Doctor.
The Doctor raised his head wearily. “I suppose we must have spilled some of it on the floor,” he said, “and the cockroach—” He stopped abruptly and sprang to his feet.
“Good God!” he cried. “Suppose another one—”
On the bare floor beside the table they came upon a few drops of water.
“That must be it,” said the Doctor. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket; then he stopped in thought. “No, that won’t do. What shall we do with it?” he added. “We must destroy it absolutely. Good Lord, if that drug ever gets loose upon the world—”
The Big Business Man joined them.
“We must destroy it absolutely,” repeated the Doctor. “We can’t just wipe it up.”
“Some acid,” suggested the Big Business Man.
“Suppose something else has got at it already,” the Very Young Man said in a scared voice, and began hastily looking around the floor of the room.
“You’re right,” agreed the Doctor. “We mustn’t take any chance; we must look thoroughly.”
Joined by the Banker, the four men began carefully going over the room.
“You’d better watch that nothing gets at it,” the Very Young Man thought suddenly to say. The Banker obediently sat down by the little pool of water on the floor.
“And I’ll close the window,” added the Very Young Man; “something might get out.”
They searched the room thoroughly, carefully scanning its walls and ceiling, but could see nothing out of the ordinary.
“We’ll never be quite sure,” said the Doctor finally, “but I guess we’re safe. It’s the best we can do now, at any rate.”
He joined the Banker by the table. “I’ll get some nitric acid,” he added. “I don’t know what else—”
“We’ll have to get that out of here, too,” said the Big Business Man, pointing to the rug. “God knows how we’ll explain it.”
The Doctor picked up one of the tin boxes of drugs and held it in his hand meditatively. Then he looked over towards the rug. From under one side a brownish liquid was oozing; the Doctor shuddered.
“My friends,” he said, holding up the box before them, “we can realize now something of the terrible power we have created and imprisoned here. We must guard it carefully, gentlemen, for if it escapes—it will destroy the world.”
CHAPTER 12
THE START
On the evening of November 4th, 1923, the four friends again assembled at the Scientific Club for the start of their momentous adventure. The Doctor was the last to arrive, and found the other three anxiously awaiting him. He brought with him the valise containing the ring and a suitcase with the drugs and equipment necessary for the journey. He greeted his friends gravely.
“The time has come, gentlemen,” he said, putting the suitcase on the table.
The Big Business Man took out the ring and held it in his hand thoughtfully.
“The scene of our new life,” he said with emotion. “What does it hold in store for us?”
“What time is it?” asked the Very Young Man. “We’ve got to hurry. We want to get started on time—we mustn’t be late.”
“Everything’s ready, isn’t it?” asked the Banker. “Who has the belts?”
“They’re in my suitcase,” answered the Very Young Man. “There it is.”
The Doctor laid the ring and handkerchief on the floor under the light and began unpacking from his bag the drugs and the few small articles they had decided to try and take with them. “You have the food and water,” he said.
The Big Business Man produced three small flasks of water and six flat, square tins containing compressed food. The Very Young Man opened one of them. “Chocolate soldiers we are,” he said, and laughed.
The Banker was visibly nervous and just a little frightened. “Are you sure you haven’t forgotten something?” he asked, quaveringly.
“It wouldn’t make a great deal of difference if we had,” said the Doctor, with a smile. “The belts may not contract with us at all; we may have to leave them behind.”
“Rogers didn’t take anything,” put in the Very Young Man. “Come on; let’s get undressed.”
The Banker locked the doors and sat down to watch the men make their last preparations. They spoke little while they were disrobing; the solemnity of what they were about to do both awed and frightened them. Only the Very Young Man seemed exhilarated by the excitement of the coming adventure.
In a few moments the three men were dressed in their white woolen bathing suits. The Very Young Man was the first to be fully equipped.
“I’m ready,” he announced. “All but the chemicals. Where are they?”
Around his waist he had strapped a broad cloth belt, with a number of pockets fastened to it. On his feet were felt-lined cloth shoes, with hard rubber soles; he wore a wrist watch. Under each armpit was fastened the pouch for carrying the drugs.
“Left arm for red vials,” said the Doctor. “Be sure of that—we mustn’t get them mixed. Take two of each color.” He