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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..197c9a5 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #64790 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/64790) diff --git a/old/64790-0.txt b/old/64790-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 9ec97d1..0000000 --- a/old/64790-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1598 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Lord of the Silent Death, by Robert Moore -Williams - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Lord of the Silent Death - -Author: Robert Moore Williams - -Release Date: March 11, 2021 [eBook #64790] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LORD OF THE SILENT DEATH *** - - - - - LORD of the SILENT DEATH - - by ROBERT MOORE WILLIAMS - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Comet December 40. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -Death came out of a box and stalked through the streets of Chicago. - -Samuel Morton found the box in Asia Minor, in a niche in the tomb of a -forgotten Sumerian king, and not being able to open it, brought it back -to this country with him. Morton was an archeologist, on the staff of -the Asia Museum, located in South Chicago. - -After months of effort, he succeeded, one hot August afternoon, in -opening the box. But the death that lurked in it did not strike then. -It waited. - -Morton was alone that night, in the basement of the museum, -trying to decipher the hieroglyphics engraved on the lid of the -box--hieroglyphics written in no known language--when the silence came. -The first sound to disappear was the rattle of the street cars on the -surface line a block distant. - -Morton was too engrossed in his work to notice that he could no longer -hear the cars. - -Then the soft rustle of the blower fan pushing cool air into the hot -basement went into silence. - -He still didn't notice the cessation of sound, did not realize that -incredible death was creeping closer to him every second. - -Even when the energetic tick of the alarm clock sitting on a mummy case -was no longer audible, Morton did not sense that death was near. He was -lost in his work. - -But when he could no longer hear the scratch of his pen on the paper, -he realized that something was happening. He looked up. - -Morton was a solidly built, craggy giant. His face burned a deep brown -by the sun of the Arabian desert, a shock of white hair that for days -was undisturbed by brush or comb, he sat in his chair, every sense -suddenly alert. His eyes raced over the room, seeking the cause of the -uncanny silence. - -He saw nothing. - -But he recognized the presence of danger and reached for the telephone. -It was the last move he ever made. As his fingers closed around the -instrument, the silence hit him. - -It had the effect of a physical blow. The smack of a prizefighter's -fist would not have rocked him more. As he gasped one word into the -telephone, his body seemed to be lifted clear out of the chair. His -muscles, tensing involuntarily, hurled him upward, like a grotesque -jack-in-the-box that has been suddenly released. He hit the chair as he -fell, crashing it to the floor with him. - -His body writhed, a slow, tortuous twisting. Muscles swelled in his -throat as he screamed in pain. But no sound came. - -The threshing of his heavy body on the concrete floor produced no -sound. The scream was blotted into utter silence. - -Before the muscular writhing had ceased, his flesh began to change -color. The tan of his face, stamped with lines of torture, became a -reddish pink. Thousands of microscopic pinpoints of color spread in a -creeping tide over his body. - -The silence held. Viciously, as though making certain no more life was -left in his body, the silence held. - -When it lifted, went into nothingness, vanished, not more than a minute -had passed. - -But in that minute Samuel Morton had died. - -The Lord of the Silent Death had emerged from the cell which had held -him imprisoned for ages. - - * * * * * - -"Rocks" Malone--the name "Rocks" came from his calling--lived two -blocks from the Asian Museum. But that wasn't his fault. He would -have lived nearer if he could have found a room. In fact, for one -deliriously happy month, he had slept on a cot in the basement of the -museum. Then Sharp, the thin-faced business manager who had charge of -the property and the finances, had caught him and given him the bounce. - -"Malone, get the hell out of here," Sharp said. "Of all the damned -fools we have around here, you are probably the worst. I should think -you would get enough archeology just by spending fourteen hours a day -here." - -"Aw, hell, I'm not hurting anything. Why can't I sleep here if I want -to?" Rocks had answered. - -"Because it is against the regulations, and you know it. Go on, now, -before I report you to the Board." - -Grumbling, Rocks had taken his cot and left. And Sharp had reported him -to the board anyhow, but that august body, in view of his youth and -the pathetic interest he had in archeology, had not reprimanded him. -They were archeologists themselves and they knew how the science gets -into the blood and bones of a man. Secretly, they had rather approved -of Rocks trying to sleep in the basement, so he could be near his -beloved relics of dead and gone civilizations. They were grooming him -for a place with the next expedition. "As likely a lad as I have ever -seen," old Andreas McCumber had said about him. In his day McCumber -had dug into half the buried cities in Asia Minor and it was his boast -that he knew a man who had the makings of an archeologist when he -saw one. "Of course he's young yet. But a little seasoning will cure -that." Rocks was twenty-three, but to McCumber, who was past seventy, -twenty-three was only late boyhood. "Besides," McCumber had rumbled in -his beard at the board meeting. "Penny will--ah--comb my whiskers--if -she--ah--discovers that I have permitted him to sleep in the basement." - -Penny was McCumber's grand-daughter. - -But Rocks had already located a room about two blocks from the museum -and had moved in. - -That was why the police found him so quickly. - -It was an August night, as hot as hades, and Rocks was sleeping with -both feet practically out the window, to take advantage of the late -breeze. He awakened to the sound of his landlady's protesting voice. - -"But I tell you, Officer, you can't want Mr. Malone. He's a fine boy -and I will vouch for him personally. I'm sure he hasn't done anything -wrong." - -"I'm not saying he's done anything wrong, madam," a bass rumble -answered. "But the officer on the beat said he lived here." - -A rap sounded on the door. Rocks took his feet out of the window and -said, "Come in." - -A blue-coated figure thrust his head in. "You Malone?" he inquired. - -"Yes. What's wrong?" - -"We want you over at the Museum." - -Rocks was already grabbing for his clothes, jerking them on over his -pajamas. "What's wrong? What's happened?" - -The cop shook his head. He was still a little white around the gills. -"We don't know what's happened. The sawbones wasn't there when I left. -But we want you to identify a man." - -"Why can't he identify himself?" - -The officer wiped perspiration from his face. "Because he's dead." - -"Dead!" The word leaped from Rocks' lips. The first shiver of fear -knifed through him. He was not yet wide awake and he hadn't fully -comprehended what the officer wanted. But that single word shocked him -to instant wakefulness. - -In the basement of the museum they found three men talking earnestly -in a corner. They weren't in uniform but their bearing fairly shouted -"Detective!" They looked scared. Rocks didn't know it then, but these -three men belonged to the homicide squad. They were accustomed to -looking at violent death in all its forms. Stiffs didn't scare them. - -But they _were_ scared. - -They had the uneasy alertness of the man-hunter who senses danger. - -His escort turned Rocks over to them. - -"I'm Kennedy; homicide bureau," said one of them. He had a heavy, -impassive face and eyes that were drills of jet. "Sorry to bother you, -Malone. You work here?" - -"I'm on the staff." - -"Good. The doc is already here. We want you to identify a body, if you -can. Come this way." - -Kennedy led Rocks to the large basement room, the other two -plain-clothesmen following behind. - -This was the room where the specimens brought back from the four -corners of Asia were uncrated and cleaned and prepared for display -on the floors above. Loot from the tomb of forgotten kings, bits of -pottery from Ephesus, a winged bull carved out of the stone of Nineveh, -mummy cases from Egypt--for Egypt was included by the museum--beads -from the valley of the Tigris-Euphrates, big and little, the relics of -lost and dead centuries were piled here. Even in the daylight the place -was ghostly. - -Photographers were popping flashlight bulbs and taking pictures of -the exact position of the body. As Rocks entered they took their last -picture and stood aside and the doctor from the coroner's office bent -over the body and began his examination. - -Then Rocks saw the body on the floor. He recoiled. "My God! That's -Samuel Morton." - -His respect for Morton amounted almost to reverence. Morton was a -world-wide figure in the field of archeology, and to Rocks Malone, -he was little short of a god. Rocks had looked up to this man, had -longed to be like him. On the next expedition, Rocks was to go along as -Morton's assistant. - -Now Morton was dead. - -"What--what happened?" Rocks whispered. - -The doctor stood up. His face was ashen. - -"That's what I would like to know--what happened. This man has been -dead less than an hour." - -"At eleven-thirty Central phoned in there was a receiver off the hook -here and said the operator thought somebody had tried to call the -police," Kennedy interrupted. - -"Heh?" the doctor queried. His professional aplomb had deserted him -completely. "The important point is: what was the cause of death? To my -knowledge there is no record in medical history of a death like this. -Look." - -"I've already looked," Kennedy said, turning away. "Once is enough." - -Rocks looked again at the solid, craggy face he had known so well. The -skin had always been tanned, but now it was red. Puffed and discolored. -And _red_--like a chunk of raw beefsteak, like the carcass of a skinned -animal. The first impression he got was that the skin had been removed. -But he bent over, fighting against the sickness in his stomach, and saw -that the skin had not been removed. It had been punctured, in literally -thousands of places. Morton's face looked like thousands of pins had -been stuck in it. When the pins had been removed, the blood oozed -through. - -A later report by the medical examiner disclosed that there was not a -spot on Morton's body that was not full of microscopic holes--millions -of them. Even the soles of his feet, protected by his shoes, showed -the same horrible markings. - -But it was the coat that held Rocks' eyes. Where the doctor had taken -hold of it, the cloth had crumbled. Rocks tested it. The cloth fell -away in his fingers, fell into a dark ash. The cloth looked all right, -until it was touched. Then it crumbled into a dust as fine as powder. - -The hottest fire would not leave so fine an ash. - -"What do you think killed him, Doc?" Kennedy asked. - -The doctor brushed perspiration from his face. "Really, I could not -hazard an opinion. There is nothing like this in medical records. It's -appalling. I trust--ah--that it is not some new kind of plague. No, -it couldn't be that. No disease would destroy his clothing. I can't -even begin to guess what happened, but the body must be removed for a -complete examination." - -Rocks was so sunk in grief that he scarcely noticed the men who lifted -all that was mortal of the old archeologist on to a stretcher. - -Kennedy came to him and said sympathetically. "Don't take it so hard, -Malone. Morton, I guess, was a friend of yours." - -Rocks told the detective what the archeologist had meant to him. -Kennedy's eyes softened. "I'm sorry, Malone. We'll do everything we can -to discover what happened, but frankly I don't know which way to turn. -I've been talking on the phone to some of the men who are in charge of -the museum. McCumber was one, Sharp was another. They're on their way -over here." - -The detective hesitated. "Malone, maybe you can help us." - -"I'll do anything I can." - -"Good. When I talked to Mr. Sharp, he said, 'I knew something like this -was going to happen. I knew it!' When I asked him what he meant he said -something about a box that Morton had brought back with him from Asia." - -"Box?" The touch of an eerie chill raced down Rocks' spine. "Yes. -There it is, sitting on the scale we use to weigh specimens." - -The lid was open. - -"He--he must have opened it this afternoon," Rocks said. - -He wondered what Morton had found in that box. Treasure--or something -else? It was empty now, the lid back, the cunning combination lock -visible. - -But what had been in the box they did not know, until Sharp got there -and told his story. - - - CHAPTER II - -Sharp, the business manager, was a prim-faced nervous individual. He -had an eye tick. It was working overtime now. He spoke rapidly, the -words running over each other. - -"Yes, yes, I'll tell you exactly what happened. It was horrible, -terrible." He mopped his face. "Mr. Morton had just succeeded in -opening this box when I entered." - -"How long had the box been here?" Kennedy interrupted. - -"I--ah--about three months have elapsed since Mr. Morton returned from -his last expedition. He brought it back with him." - -"Three months to open it?" Kennedy said doubtfully. "Why didn't he use -a torch on it?" - -"I think I can answer that," McCumber said. The old archeologist had -arrived a few minutes after the business manager. He had received the -news of the death of his associate calmly but it was obvious that he -was deeply affected. He and Morton had been fellow workers for more -than forty years. Now Morton was dead, and McCumber's sorrow was too -deep for expression. It didn't show on his face. But when he entered -the basement, he leaned rather heavily on his granddaughter's arm. -Penny, who always drove his car for him, had driven him down. Now she -stood, pale and silent, beside his chair. - -"There were several reasons why we didn't use a cutting torch," -McCumber said. "Foremost was the fact that, whatever the contents of -the box were, we did not wish to damage them. Secondly, we felt that -in time we would discover the secret of opening it. And in the third -place, force would have ruined the delicate hieroglyphics inscribed on -it. We especially did not want to do that." - -The detective turned again to Sharp. "Will you tell us what was in the -box, sir?" - -The business manager moistened his lips. A hush fell over the group. -The officer in uniform twisted uneasily. The two detectives tried to -show nothing, but then forced expressions showed the fear that gnawed -at them. Kennedy's black eyes were lances of apprehension. - -Rocks Malone moved across the room and stood beside Penny, a gesture -purely protective. His mind was in a turmoil as he waited for Sharp to -speak. Was there a connection between that box and Morton's death? What -kind of a connection? His eyes strayed toward it. Under the lights he -could see the hieroglyphics delicately carved on it. - -What was the message that the unknown writer had tried to convey -with those wavy lines? Had he cut a warning sign, a--Hands -Off--Danger--symbol to warn against opening it? Had--But Sharp was -speaking. - -"I had come down to the basement to discuss with Mr. Morton certain -items in the budget for his next expedition. He had just opened the -box. He said, 'Oh, I say, Sharp, come here, will you? I want you to -tell me what you see in this box.' - -"To be frank, I was curious about the contents myself. I, and I -imagine everyone connected with the museum, had been of the opinion -that perhaps the box contained treasure, possibly jewels, which in the -present state of our finances, would be of great help to us." - -Sharp hesitated, seeking words. From the night came the rattle of -a street car and the clang of the motor-man's bell. The blower fan -rustled as it pushed air into the basement. On the mummy case the -alarm clock--set to remind Morton when it was time to quit work and go -home--ticked noisily. - -"What was in it?" Kennedy husked. - -Sharp took a deep breath. "At first, I saw nothing, and the immediate -impression I gained was that it was empty. Then, as I bent over to peer -into the box, I caught a glimpse of its contents." - -Everyone in the room leaned forward as Sharp hesitated. He said, - -"I don't know what that thing in the box was. I can't ever hazard a -guess. But a beam of light leaped at me from the box, and the light -originated at a spot that was several inches above the bottom. In other -words, _it came from nothingness_. - -"As I straightened up, the light vanished. Morton said, 'Did you see -that damned thing?' I asked him what it was. He didn't know but he -seemed puzzled and perturbed and he asked me to look again. - -"Then I began to see more clearly. There was something in the box, -_something that was almost invisible_." - -"Invisible?" Kennedy breathed huskily. - -"Yes. Almost invisible. From certain positions we could see the -contents of the receptacle--a smoky, misty mass. That's the only way I -can describe it. A smoky mass. It was unreal, and just trying to look -at it strained the eyes." - -"What happened then?" Kennedy said. - -"Morton thrust his hand into the box. _And his hand disappeared!_" - -"What!" - -"His fingers, up to the knuckles, simply disappeared. No, they weren't -cut off. The effect was similar to thrusting the hand into a basin -of murky water. Morton instantly jerked his hand out, and it was -uninjured, except that the fingers were stained a faint red. The point -is--there was something in the box that was almost invisible, and an -object thrust into it was rendered invisible, too. - -"Morton was tremendously puzzled. I can't recall his exact words, -but he seemed to be of the opinion that the contents of the box were -extra-dimensional." - -"Extra-dimensional?" Kennedy interrogated. - -"Something like that," Sharp admitted. "Oh I know it sounds utterly -fantastic. I was of the opinion that Morton did not know what he was -talking about, but later events showed me that I was wrong." - -"What happened next?" the detective queried. - -"This happened," Sharp answered. The man was trembling. The -handkerchief with which he tried to mop his face fluttered in an -unsteady hand. - -"_Either something came out of that box, or something came through that -box and escaped into the basement!_" - -Sharp's eyes went over the room, jerking from object to object like -a man who suspects the presence of an incredible enemy and is warily -watching for that enemy to strike. - -The action sent cold chills up Rocks Malone's back. Something had come -out of that box. It might still be here in the museum. Sharp thought it -might be. He was looking for it. - -"Through the box?" McCumber spoke. "I don't understand. How could -anything come through it?" - -"I don't understand either," the business manager answered. "I'm only -telling you what Morton thought. He said the box might be a gateway -between this world and a higher dimensional world. If the box is such a -gateway, then something came through it. If it is not a gateway, then -something came out of the box and escaped into the basement." - -His eyes ran from face to face of his hearers. - -"How do you know something came out?" McCumber persisted. He seemed to -have taken over the questioning from Kennedy. - -"Because I saw it," Sharp answered. - -In the silence of the basement Rocks could hear several men breathing -heavily. - -"It lifted up, out of the box," Sharp continued. "It was a mass of -grayish smoke, of shifting planes and impossible angles. It rose -straight up and seemed to pause in the air. While it hung in the -air--and I cannot begin to suggest an explanation for this--I suddenly -seemed to lose my hearing. I couldn't hear a sound. There was utter, -complete silence. It was the oddest sensation I have ever experienced." - -Again the handkerchief wiped sweat from his face. - -"Then--like a finger snap--the thing vanished. It disappeared into thin -air. And when it vanished, I recovered from my deafness." - -Rocks felt Penny's fingers searching for his hand. Her hand slid into -his. She was trembling. - -The detectives were pale, their faces bloodless. How much they had -really understood of Sharp's description was open to doubt. Only a -mathematical physicist could have grasped all the possibilities he had -opened, and the cops weren't physicists. But they were alert. One had -half-drawn his run. They were warily looking around the room. - -"What did you do then?" McCumber persisted. - -"We naturally spent some time searching the basement. When we found -nothing, I began to suspect we were the victims of an illusion, that -nothing had really come out of the box, that our imaginations were -playing us tricks. Consequently, since it was already late in the -afternoon, I departed. I thought nothing more of the matter until the -police called me and told me that a man was dead here. Then I instantly -realized that something had come out of the box, something utterly -foreign to the science of our present day, something of which we have -no knowledge, but which may be here now, watching us, waiting to pounce -on its next victim--" - -He subsided, and Kennedy, looking closely at him, shoved him a chair. -"Here, sir. You had better sit down." - -Sharp almost collapsed. "Thanks," he muttered. - -"One further question," McCumber said. "Where was the box sitting when -Morton opened it?" - -"Why--" Sharp looked startled. "On that heavy table." He pointed to a -table across the room. - -"But it's on the scales now," McCumber said, nodding his head toward it. - -"Yes, it is," Sharp answered. "Mr. Morton must have moved it after I -left." - -McCumber turned to the detectives. "Gentlemen, if I may suggest it, I -think it would be wise to search the museum." - -The detectives looked like they didn't enjoy the task, but they went -about it efficiently, guns drawn. The others remained in the basement. -Sharp kept up a running fire of nervous conversation, to which McCumber -paid little attention. The old archeologist seemed to be lost in -thought. - -Kennedy returned. The detective was very pale. "We didn't find -anything," he said. "We still don't know whether it's here or not. But -we can't take a chance of that thing getting loose. We'll stay here, as -a guard." He looked sharply at McCumber and the business manager. "If I -may suggest it, this has been quite a strain on you. Perhaps it would -be best if you went home and rested. However if someone who is familiar -with the museum will stay--" - -"I'll stay," said Rocks. - -"No," Penny protested. "If that thing should attack you--" - -Over her protests, Rocks stayed. However he walked out to the car with -them. Sharp came out of the museum with them, but he had his own car, -and drove off immediately. - -McCumber settled himself in the seat, and Penny, still protesting, slid -under the wheel. - -"What do you think, sir?" Rocks queried. "Do you have any suggestions -about looking for that--thing?" - -"I'm afraid I don't, lad," the old man answered. "Nothing like it -has ever been seen before." He reached into his pocket for his pipe. -His questing fingers brought from the pocket not only the pipe but a -spherical piece of glass that looked like a child's marble. He held it -under the dash lamp. "A marble? Wonder where I picked that up?" Then he -dropped it back into his pocket as he explored for his tobacco. "This -much I can say, lad. Whatever it was that came out of that box, the -museum, in a sense, is responsible. We brought the damned thing to this -country. We've got to capture or destroy it before it does any more -damage. If such a thing should escape into the city, the results might -be terrible. I'll be down early in the morning, lad. I hate to go off -like this, but the old body won't take punishment like it once would. -You be careful." - -"I will, sir." - -"You darned well better be," said Penny, as she slipped the car into -gear. - - * * * * * - -Rocks returned to the museum. With Kennedy and the other detectives he -again made a complete search of the building. The museum was filled -with nooks and crannies where anything might hide. They found nothing. - -They were again in the basement when the telephone on the main floor -started ringing. - -Who would be calling at this time of the night, Rocks wondered as he -raced upward to answer it. Very few people knew the number. - -He jerked the phone from its hook, and the voice in his ears almost -took his breath away. It was Penny. She was screaming. - -"Rocks, please come quickly. That terrible thing is here. It's got -grandfather. Hurry, please--" - -He waited to hear no more. - -"Come on," he yelled to the detectives. "That damned thing is loose -again." - -Sirens screamed in the night as the squad car raced to the home of -Andreas McCumber. Rocks rode in the seat beside Kennedy, and urged the -detective to drive faster. - -"I'm doing seventy now," Kennedy grated. - -"Then do eighty," Rocks answered. Blood was running down his chin -where he had bitten his lips. In his mind was the single thought: has -something happened to Penny? - - - CHAPTER III - -Penny's parents were dead. She lived with her grandfather, in a huge -old brick house on a side street. - -They found her lying at the foot of the front steps. Rocks' heart -leaped into his mouth when he saw the white form lying there, crumpled -and twisted, in the rays from the light burning over the front door. -Until that moment he had not fully known how much she meant to him. - -"Penny," he whispered. - -Had the same horrible death struck at her? Had she tried to flee only -to find death racing after her, death coming faster than she could run? - -He was trembling as he knelt beside her. - -Then--she stirred in his arms. Her dress did not fall into dust at his -touch, as Morton's clothing had. And her skin was white, not a hideous -blotched red. Death had passed her by. - -"Oh, Rocks," she whispered. "It was awful--" - -Kennedy and his two men paused only long enough to make certain Penny -was not injured. Then they went on into the house, and Rocks, even in -the pressure of that moment, found time to admire their courage. Good -boys, those cops were. They knew they might find something inside that -house against which their guns would prove useless. But they drew the -guns, and went in. - -"Are you all right?" Rocks whispered. - -"I--I think so. After I called you, I ran outside to call for help and -I slipped and fell down the steps." - -He picked her up and carried her inside, laid her on a divan. He did -not ask about her grandfather. He could hear the detectives on the -floor above. They had stopped racing through the house, jerking open -doors. They were all gathered in one room and they weren't saying much. - -Then Kennedy came down the stairs, with one of his men. "Malone," he -called softly. - -"Here," Rocks answered. Kennedy came in. His eyes were black agates in -a mask of dough. He slipped his gun back into its holster and said to -the man who followed him, "You stay here with the girl. Malone, will -you come upstairs with me?" - -Rocks nodded. The detective led the way upstairs. - -McCumber lay on the floor. The skin of his face was a blotch of red. -His clothing had fallen away into dust. He had been working at his -desk. When death struck him he had fallen to the floor. - -Kennedy took a sheet from the bed and placed it over the still form. - -Penny, very pale but very resolute, came into the room. - -"Are you strong enough to tell us what happened?" Kennedy asked gently. - -"I came in to kiss him goodnight," she answered. "He was lying there on -the floor. I started to run to the telephone--then I heard something." -She shuddered. "It was--I didn't hear anything. You can't hear silence, -I suppose. But I did hear it. My feet didn't make any sound on the -floor. I know I screamed, but I couldn't ever hear the sound of my own -voice. I ran to call the museum, then I ran outside to call for help." - -"Did you see anything in the room?" - -"No. The desk light was burning and most of the room was in shadows, -but if anything was here, I didn't see it. But--" she paused. - -"What is it, miss?" Kennedy inquired gently. - -"It isn't anything I'm sure of," she answered. "But I think that thing -followed us home from the museum. I had the feeling that we were being -followed." - -"Did you see anything following you?" - -She shook her head. "It was just an impression, a feeling." - -"You had better go lie down," said Rocks. "We'll take care of -everything." He looked at Kennedy. "Can she have a man to be on guard -outside her door?" - -"She sure can. I'll call headquarters and get a special detail here at -once." Gently Rocks led her to her room. Better than anyone else, he -knew how impossible it was to put into words anything that would make -her feel better. Only time could do that. And now that the terrible -death had struck twice, he knew that Penny might be in danger. No one -could tell where it would strike again. Or why. - -It was a death that came in silence. It came out of nowhere, struck, -and passed back into nowhere, leaving no clues behind it. It had come -out of a metal box found in the tomb of a king forgotten for six -thousand years. It was older than the king. It was older than history. -It came out of the black past of the planet with horrible, monstrous -death. Sharp had seen it--a creature of planes and angles, flashing -lights, a creature that disappeared at will, and reappeared elsewhere. -It had been here in this home, and had struck down a man. It might be -here still, watching, waiting. - -Penny cried as she lay on her bed and wiped the tears away, and tried -to think. How had it entered the house? The doors had been locked. -Of course it could have secured entrance through an open window, but -how had it passed so unerringly through the rooms, seeking out her -grandfather? Why had it killed him? Did he threaten its existence? - -Penny tried to think, and tried not to. - -Rocks talked to Kennedy. The burly detective said, "If this was an -ordinary murder, I would know how to handle it. The first thing we -always look for is the motive. When we find that, we've got the killer. -But there's no motive here--there's not anything. Frankly, Malone, -I'm up a tree. We've got to find that thing, and destroy it, quickly. -Supposing it should start wandering loose through the streets of -Chicago--" The detective shuddered. "Malone, if you have any ideas, -let's have them. I admit I don't know what to do." - -Rocks had been thinking too. "This thing came out of that box back in -the museum. If the secret of controlling it is anywhere, it's written -on the lid of that box." He gritted his teeth. "I don't think we have a -chance in a million of cracking that language, but right now it's the -only thing I see to try." - -"We'll go back to the museum," said Kennedy. "I can't help with the -language, but I want another look around that place." - -The authorities responsible in cases of sudden death had already -arrived at the McCumber home. Kennedy left a special detail to guard -Penny. He and Rocks went back to the museum. - -Rocks went to work. He began to try to crack the hieroglyphics written -on the lid of the box. That his task was all but impossible, he well -knew. - -He could read Sanskrit, Babylonian cuneiform, and Egyptian picture -writing with fair readiness. He could translate ancient Hebrew and -ancient Greek. An archeologist had to know these languages. - -He thought the writing on the box might be in one of these languages. - -He began with Morton's notes. - -Then the telephone rang again. Kennedy went to answer it. He came back -very excited. - -"That was the girl--Penny," he said. "She may have something. She -described a piece of round glass and said her grandfather had found it -in his pocket tonight as he left the museum. She wanted to know if we -had found it. I didn't. Did you?" - -"No," Rocks answered. "But I can't see how it is important." - -"Nor can I," Kennedy answered. "But it might be. I'll call and see if -it has been found. She also mentioned another thing, and this, I think, -is really important." - -"What was it?" - -"She said her grandfather was writing at his desk when he was killed. -The piece of paper on which he was writing was under a blotter and we -missed it. She found it. The old man had written a single question on -it." - -Rocks had risen from his chair. Here, he realized, might be a clue that -would lead them to the capture of the incredible creature that was -loose within the city. "What was the question?" - -"'Why did Morton weigh the box a second time?'" Kennedy said. - -"Why did he--" Rocks sat down again. His eyes went across the room to -the box. It was sitting on the scales where Morton had placed it. - -"It's routine here," Rocks said slowly, "to weigh all specimens as soon -as they are brought in. Many statuettes, etc., were constructed as -hiding places for gems. We weigh them, compute their specific gravity, -and thus determine if they contain a hollow place that might be worth -investigating." - -His eyes lit up. "Morton weighed that box before it was opened. He -opened it, and something came out of it. But, from Sharp's description, -they were in doubt as to whether something had really come out of the -box. There was one way to prove something had come out of it--weigh it -again and check its present weight with its weight when it was brought -in." - -Rocks leaped across the room to the scales, checked the weight of the -box. It weighed 121 pounds. Quickly he found Morton's notes and located -the weight of the box when it was first brought to the museum. - -"Before it was opened it weighed an even 130 pounds," he said. "Now it -only weighs 121. That proves that something came out of it." - -Kennedy whistled. "Nine pounds of sudden death. Well, we don't need -any proof to know that something came out of that box. We've got two -dead men to prove it. Look," the detective finished, "I'm going back to -McCumber's residence and see if I can locate that piece of glass. You -keep trying to crack that language." - -He went out of the room on the run. The motor of the squad car howled -to sudden life outside as the detective left. - -Rocks expected Kennedy to return. But he didn't come back that night. -He called instead. "I'm at the undertaker's. They didn't find any piece -of red glass. I've been over McCumber's house with a magnifying glass. -It isn't there. Either the thing that killed him destroyed it, or -somebody picked it up. You getting anywhere with that language?" - -"No," Rocks groaned. - -"Well, keep trying. My hunch is that everything depends on whether or -not you solve those hieroglyphics. I've got some checking to do on this -end. I'll call you if anything turns up." The detective hung up. - -Rocks went back to the basement. His job was to crack the language. And -what a job that was! - -The night ended. Dawn came. The morning was passing. Rocks worked on. - -The museum was closed that day. The police were not willing to take a -chance on some visitor stumbling into a death that came in silence. Nor -was the museum itself. Sharp called in and gave explicit orders on -that point. - -Rocks drank strong coffee, and worked, and failed. The language was not -similar to cuneiform. It was not like any language he knew. Every time -he realized that fact, he shivered. It had either been invented by a -people so long lost in the past that history had no record of them, or -it didn't belong on earth at all. - -Yet someone, somewhere, had constructed that box, and had used it to -safeguard something. Perhaps they had used it as a prison, to cage -a creature they could not control, an entity unknown to the science -of the present. Perhaps later peoples had created legends about -it--Pandora's Box. Perhaps this was really Pandora's Box that Morton -had brought back from Asia Minor. - -The creature had waited in that box for uncounted centuries. Now a new -race had opened the door of his prison. - -Now the Lord of the Silent Death was free again. - -Rocks Malone kept wondering when and where he would strike. - -During the whole day there was not even a whisper of the incredible -silence in which men's lives were blotted out. - -But when the second night came-- - - - CHAPTER IV - -At nine o'clock that night Rocks was ready to drop from exhaustion. He -was not only so tired that the hieroglyphics blurred before his eyes, -but he had failed. That hurt worse than anything else. Everything -depended on his cracking the lost language, and he had failed. - -At nine o'clock it happened. - -There were three officers on duty at the museum. They had been sent -there as a guard detail and they had brought in a radio so they could -listen to the police calls. They had the radio in a room on the first -floor, so it would not disturb Rocks. - -At nine o'clock one of them came stumbling downstairs. His face was -ashen. "Hell's broken loose," he said tersely. "It's coming in over the -radio. Come on upstairs if you want to listen. You might as well forget -that language now." - -Over and over again the announcer was droning. "Calling all -cars--Calling all cars--Drop everything and be on the alert. Tragedy in -burlesque showhouse. Over three hundred people dead. Cause of death not -known. Manager went in to investigate sudden silence. Found audience -and cast of show dead. Bodies livid color, as if they had been burned. -Clothing falls to ashes when touched. Sergeant Kennedy of the homicide -division suggests there is a definite connection between the death of -these people and the death of the two Asian Museum archeologists last -night. Be on the alert. Take over main intersections and prevent panic. -Story already broken in general radio news flash. Cordon being thrown -around the theater area. All special details canceled, all squad cars -call your stations for definite orders--Be on the alert--Calling all -cars--" - -Death was walking through Chicago, a horrible, incredible form of death. - -Rocks Malone stood without moving, listening to the operator repeat his -message. He could scarcely conceive the meaning of the words. "Over -three hundred people dead--" Dim pictures flashed to his mind. Out of -nowhere, out of nothingness, silence had come. Three hundred people -had died. Before they knew what struck them, death had washed over -them. Millions of microscopic needles had plunged through their bodies, -points of agonizing pain. Then death-- - -Jerkily, the telephone rang. One of the officers grabbed it. He -listened, said "Okay," huskily, and turned to his fellows. - -"Station calling. We're to report back there immediately for emergency -duty. They're calling us off here. Come on." - -The radio was still droning as they went out. - -The telephone rang again. It was Penny this time. - -"I'm coming down there," she said, "I'm scared. I'm coming down there -with you." - -"Stay away from here!" Rocks shouted. But she had already hung up. -Desperately, he tried to call her back. There was no answer. She had -already left. She was driving toward the museum, driving through a -night in which death lurked. - -Rocks groaned. He went back to the basement. There was nothing he could -do. Nothing! The coffee pot was bubbling on its burner. He poured -himself a cup of the scalding brew. It burned his throat but it cleared -his head. - -He went back to work. The language was out. He couldn't crack it. He -didn't even have time to try to crack it any more. But there were -Morton's notes. He hadn't studied them thoroughly. He had read only -those portions of the notes that dealt with the language. He began -to go over them again, starting with the section that dealt with the -discovery of the box. - -Jan. 10, 1940--Morton had written--Discovered today what is -unquestionably the tomb of a Sumerian king. Located in a hillside. Cut -out of solid rock. Landslide centuries ago had covered entrance. But -even more important, in my opinion, than the tomb is the discovery of -the strange metal box that we found in a niche at the back. We are -unable to determine the metal of which the box is constructed. It is -covered with mould but shows no sign of rust or corrosion, which is -exceedingly unusual, for this tomb dates back into the past for at -least six thousand years. - -"Jan. 12, 1940. Box very heavy--must weigh more than a hundred pounds. -Frankly, aside from its archeological interest, I am curious to know -the contents of this box. There is a possibility of gold or gems. Guess -I'm human after all, to be thinking about wealth. Am writing full -details to the museum. - -"Jan. 15, 1940. Unable to open box. Must have cunning combination -lock. Also unable to decipher inscription on it. Don't know this form -of writing. No record of it anywhere. This is exceedingly unusual. A -completely forgotten language rediscovered." - -Rocks Malone went through the notes, reading swiftly, searching, hoping -for a clue. Outside in the night death was stalking. And there was a -possibility that the clue to the death lay here, in the notes of the -dead archeologist. - -Penny came in. He went to meet her. She flew to his arms. "It's awful -outside," she whispered. "Thousands of people must have heard the news -broadcast. Half of them are trying to get to the theater where all -those people were killed. The others are trying to get away. Oh, Rocks, -have you discovered anything." - -He shook his head. She looked again at his unshaven, haggard face, and -said nothing. - -He went back to the notes Morton had left. With Penny helping, he went -through them, down to the last page. "It's no use," he groaned. "Morton -didn't know anything about the thing that was in that damned box." - -Then he turned the last page. Morton had written that page only -yesterday, the day he died. - -"Sept. 21, 1940. Succeeded in opening the box today. As I suspected it -was closed by a combination lock. Deucedly clever thing, that lock. -Not like any lock in use today. Patent rights on it might provide the -museum with some of the cash it so badly needs. - -"To my great astonishment, and regret, when I opened the box, I found -it empty." - -Rocks Malone started at the words Morton had written. Penny had been -reading over her shoulder. He heard her catch her breath. - -EMPTY! The single word seemed to leap out at him. How on earth could -Morton make a mistake like that! - -There was another line of writing. "Weighed box. Find that it weighs -nine pounds less than it did when I brought it here." - -In the fleeting flash of a second, Rocks saw the whole picture. Or -almost all of it. There were parts that needed clearing up. But he knew -at last the real significance of the fact that Morton had weighed the -box a second time. - -"There's somebody coming!" Penny whispered. - -A step had sounded on the stairs outside the room. The door opened. -Sharp entered. - -He had a traveling bag with him. - -Rocks shoved the last page of Morton's notes out of sight, got to his -feet. "Hello," he said. "Have you heard the radio?" - -"I'll say I have," the business manager answered. "That's why I've got -this bag along. I'm getting away from here while I have a chance. It's -terrible--what happened to all those people at the theater. For all I -know, it might happen to me next. Have you," he paused, "have you found -anything that might--might lead to the capture of that horrible beast? -That's why I stopped here, before I left town." - -"No," Rocks answered. He walked across the basement toward the business -manager. He was ten feet away, he was five feet away. He stopped. "One -thing we have discovered. Morton's notes. He said in his notes that -when he opened the box he found it empty. What do you suppose he meant -by that?" - -Sharp looked perplexed. "Why, I have no idea. Perhaps he decided that -what we saw was an illusion after all." - -"I think not," Rocks contradicted. "He would certainly have mentioned -any creature such as you described if he had found such a thing in -the box. No, I think he meant exactly what he said. When he opened -the box, it was empty. That surprised him greatly. It also made him -suspicious. So he weighed it, to determine if somebody had already -opened it and removed its contents. _What did you find in that box, -Sharp!_" - -His words were hard and flat. There was no mistaking their challenge. - -Behind him he heard Penny whisper. "Oh, Rocks--" - -He knew he had made a mistake. He should have waited, let the law -handle the situation, let men trained for the task do the job. But -Morton had been his friend. And so had McCumber. And Morton and -McCumber were dead. And Rocks Malone was not a man to wait for someone -else to do what he considered his job. - -Sharp stood without moving, his close-set eyes drilling into the young -archeologist facing him. A second ticked into nothingness, and another, -and another. He was estimating the situation, considering the odds and -the chances. - -"I'm waiting," Rocks said grimly. - -"All right, snoopy," Sharp snarled. "This is what I found in it." - -[Illustration: _"All right, snoopie, here it is." Sharp lifted a -strange implement from his bag and pointed it. "Duck," Penny shouted, -"That's it!"_] - -He jerked his bag open. His hand dived into it. It came out of the bag -with the strangest looking instrument Rocks had ever seen. Constructed -of pale silvery metal, fitted with a series of faceted lenses, it -glinted evilly under the lights. - -Because of the very nature of the instrument, Sharp handled it -clumsily. But there was no mistaking its purpose. He brought it up. -Penny screamed. - -Rocks stepped forward. His left hand flicked out. All the weight of his -body was behind that blow. He drove it straight at Sharp's chin. It -would have made Joe Louis bat his expressionless eyes. It would have -knocked Sharp's head almost off his shoulders--if it had landed. - -That was the trouble. It didn't land. Sharp saw it coming. He ducked -down and to one side, fumbling with the instrument he had taken from -his bag. The fist skidded across the top of his head. It sent him -staggering backward. - -"The next time," Rocks gritted. "I won't miss. I'll knock your damned -head off, you dirty murderer." He charged. - -Sharp brought the instrument up. Pale, scarcely visible flame lanced -from it, like a heat wave moving through air. It spurted forward, -soundlessly. As it leaped it seemed to absorb, to blot out all sound. -There was a sudden heavy silence in the museum basement, the sort of -silence that is so real it registers on the ear drums. - -Rocks saw the instrument coming up. He kicked himself to one side, in -a dancing step. The fringe of lambent flame barely touched him. But -that touch sent needles of agony through his body, sucked the life out -of him, turned his muscles into lumps of lead, threw him off balance, -so that his charge, instead of striking Sharp, barely grazed him. His -arms closed around the business manager's body. To keep himself from -falling, Rocks clinched. - -They wrestled. Sharp could not use the instrument. Rocks was so groggy -he could barely hold on. Sharp dug into him with his elbows, kicked -viciously at his shins. - -If he could only hold on, Rocks thought. The agony was lessening. The -groggy shadows were going from his mind. If he could only hold on for -another minute. - -He was holding on. He was winning. Soft living had made a weakling of -Sharp. He would be no match for the rugged, youthful muscles of Rocks -Malone, in a fair fight. - -Then Sharp struck upward. His fist hit Rocks in the chin. Malone sagged -downward. Shaking his head, he grabbed at Sharp again. And missed. And -fell to the floor. Before he could move, Sharp had leaped around a -table. He had brought the instrument up. - -"All right," he husked. "You asked for it, with your snooping. You're -going to get it. You and this girl." - -Rocks staggered to his feet. He leaned against the edge of the table, -panting, fighting for breath and strength. Sharp was across the table -from him. He was aiming the instrument. - -This time there would be no escaping it. It would point at him and -those almost invisible tongues of light would flash out, the deadly -silence would smash all sound into nothingness, and millions of -microscopic needles would tear through his flesh. - -Sharp fumbled for the firing button. - -Penny, crouched on the other side of the room, grabbed the handiest -object she could find, and threw it. It was the alarm clock. It struck -Sharp full in the face, and the alarm, jarred by the impact, went off. - -Probably the clang of the alarm bell started Sharp as much as the -impact of the clock. Certainly it did not hit him hard enough to harm -him. But it did startle him, scare him. He reeled backward. - -Rocks cleared the table with a single leap. He went up into the air -like a kangaroo and leaped, feet foremost, at Sharp. His feet struck -the business manager full in the stomach. Sharp doubled up like a -jackknife, and went to the floor. Rocks fell on top of him. He struck -viciously with his fists. Sharp cried in pain and Rocks struck harder. -The man was down, but he wasn't out. Rocks drew back his fist for the -final blow. - -It never landed. Down over his shoulder the barrel of a gun flashed. -Where it had come from, Rocks did not know. It struck the business -manager across the skull. - -His head popped like the breaking of a rotten egg. He went limp. - -Rocks looked up. Kennedy stood there. He was holding the pistol with -which he had struck Sharp, in his hand. He looked to see if he would -need to use it again. He saw he wouldn't. - -He whirled the gun around on its trigger guard. - -"Damn me for a fool," he said. "I could kick myself from here to the -Loop and back again. I missed a trick and it cost three hundred people -their lives." - -"What trick?" Rocks gasped. - -"I should have known this gazabo was lying," Kennedy snarled. "I should -have known his long cock and bull story about some incredible creature -coming out of that box was too fantastic for belief. I should have -known he was lying, out damn it, the sight of Morton's body so addled -my wits that I was willing to believe the story Sharp told. Oh, he -was smooth enough about it. He knew how the weapon he found killed. -He knew what it did to Morton's body, and he had to have a fantastic -story to account for the way Morton looked. He solved the secret of -that box soon after it was brought here. He had a reason for it too. -He had been playing the market and he was down on his uppers. If there -was a treasure in that box, he wanted first crack at it. He didn't -find any treasure in it. Instead he found some kind of a damned weapon -in it that came from God alone knows where. When he found Morton had -opened the box and was about to catch up with him by weighing the box, -he took the obvious out--by killing Morton, using the weapon he had -found in the box. He killed McCumber because the old man knew there -was something fishy about the box being on the scales. So he killed -McCumber--to shut him up." - -"But those people in the theater?" Rocks whispered. - -Kennedy exploded. "He needed money, needed it bad. I dug this all -up in my investigation today. He was trying to sell the weapon -he had discovered to the agents of a foreign power. They wanted -a demonstration before they would pay off. So he gave them a -demonstration. He showed them how efficient a weapon he had for -sale--by killing all the people in a theater." - -The detective was furiously angry. "And I let myself get taken in by a -story of a monster." - -Rocks had already picked up the instrument Sharp had found in that -box. He was studying it, looking it over. The principle on which -it operated, he couldn't begin to guess, but he saw one thing that -startled him enormously. He showed it to the detective. - -"Great Jehosophat!" Kennedy gasped. "A place for six fingers. Whoever -built that damned thing had six fingers." - -The Lord of the Silent Death was not an extra-dimensional monster. It -was a weapon that killed in utter silence. - - * * * * * - -The instrument that came out of the box from the tomb of the forgotten -Sumerian King is now in Washington, in the secret vaults of the War -Department. The experts are studying it, trying to fathom how it works. -They have begun to get hints of the principle involved. Only hints, but -something to go on. They have discovered that it kills in two ways. -The first, and obvious way, is by pointing it directly at its victim. -At the theatre he had sprayed the power, full on, across the audience, -then across the ensemble on the stage, then as he went out the back had -caught all others. - -The second way is worse. In Sharp's bag was found a sack of small round -objects that look like marbles. All the owner of the weapon needs to do -to kill an enemy is to drop one of those bits of glass in the enemy's -pocket. Then he can go off several miles and start the weapon. The -force it generates is concentrated in the bit of glass, and the silence -is instantly generated, the bit of glass being destroyed in the process. - -That was the method Sharp used to kill McCumber. As they left the -museum, Sharp dropped one of the bits of glass in the pocket of the -old archeologist's coat. McCumber had found it, but had attached no -significance to it. - -The experts hope that the War Department of this country will never -need such a weapon. But if it does, it will have it. - -But the thing that plagues the experts, that frets the archeologists, -that has caused Rocks Malone to tear his hair, is the fact that the -weapon was designed to be used by a creature who had six fingers. -Not five fingers. Six. And the archeologists are having drizzling -fits trying to decide whether there was once a race of six-fingered -creatures here on earth, a race that reached tremendous scientific -heights, and vanished. - -Or was earth once visited by creatures out of space, who left a weapon -behind them? - -Nobody knows. Possibly nobody will ever know. - -But Rocks Malone is preparing to leave for Asia Minor, to dig in the -ruins of lost and gone civilizations, searching for another clue to the -identity of the lost race. - -Penny is going with him. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LORD OF THE SILENT DEATH *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Lord of the Silent Death</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Robert Moore Williams</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: March 11, 2021 [eBook #64790]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LORD OF THE SILENT DEATH ***</div> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>LORD of the SILENT DEATH</h1> - -<h2>by ROBERT MOORE WILLIAMS</h2> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Comet December 40.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Death came out of a box and stalked through the streets of Chicago.</p> - -<p>Samuel Morton found the box in Asia Minor, in a niche in the tomb of a -forgotten Sumerian king, and not being able to open it, brought it back -to this country with him. Morton was an archeologist, on the staff of -the Asia Museum, located in South Chicago.</p> - -<p>After months of effort, he succeeded, one hot August afternoon, in -opening the box. But the death that lurked in it did not strike then. -It waited.</p> - -<p>Morton was alone that night, in the basement of the museum, -trying to decipher the hieroglyphics engraved on the lid of the -box—hieroglyphics written in no known language—when the silence came. -The first sound to disappear was the rattle of the street cars on the -surface line a block distant.</p> - -<p>Morton was too engrossed in his work to notice that he could no longer -hear the cars.</p> - -<p>Then the soft rustle of the blower fan pushing cool air into the hot -basement went into silence.</p> - -<p>He still didn't notice the cessation of sound, did not realize that -incredible death was creeping closer to him every second.</p> - -<p>Even when the energetic tick of the alarm clock sitting on a mummy case -was no longer audible, Morton did not sense that death was near. He was -lost in his work.</p> - -<p>But when he could no longer hear the scratch of his pen on the paper, -he realized that something was happening. He looked up.</p> - -<p>Morton was a solidly built, craggy giant. His face burned a deep brown -by the sun of the Arabian desert, a shock of white hair that for days -was undisturbed by brush or comb, he sat in his chair, every sense -suddenly alert. His eyes raced over the room, seeking the cause of the -uncanny silence.</p> - -<p>He saw nothing.</p> - -<p>But he recognized the presence of danger and reached for the telephone. -It was the last move he ever made. As his fingers closed around the -instrument, the silence hit him.</p> - -<p>It had the effect of a physical blow. The smack of a prizefighter's -fist would not have rocked him more. As he gasped one word into the -telephone, his body seemed to be lifted clear out of the chair. His -muscles, tensing involuntarily, hurled him upward, like a grotesque -jack-in-the-box that has been suddenly released. He hit the chair as he -fell, crashing it to the floor with him.</p> - -<p>His body writhed, a slow, tortuous twisting. Muscles swelled in his -throat as he screamed in pain. But no sound came.</p> - -<p>The threshing of his heavy body on the concrete floor produced no -sound. The scream was blotted into utter silence.</p> - -<p>Before the muscular writhing had ceased, his flesh began to change -color. The tan of his face, stamped with lines of torture, became a -reddish pink. Thousands of microscopic pinpoints of color spread in a -creeping tide over his body.</p> - -<p>The silence held. Viciously, as though making certain no more life was -left in his body, the silence held.</p> - -<p>When it lifted, went into nothingness, vanished, not more than a minute -had passed.</p> - -<p>But in that minute Samuel Morton had died.</p> - -<p>The Lord of the Silent Death had emerged from the cell which had held -him imprisoned for ages.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Rocks" Malone—the name "Rocks" came from his calling—lived two -blocks from the Asian Museum. But that wasn't his fault. He would -have lived nearer if he could have found a room. In fact, for one -deliriously happy month, he had slept on a cot in the basement of the -museum. Then Sharp, the thin-faced business manager who had charge of -the property and the finances, had caught him and given him the bounce.</p> - -<p>"Malone, get the hell out of here," Sharp said. "Of all the damned -fools we have around here, you are probably the worst. I should think -you would get enough archeology just by spending fourteen hours a day -here."</p> - -<p>"Aw, hell, I'm not hurting anything. Why can't I sleep here if I want -to?" Rocks had answered.</p> - -<p>"Because it is against the regulations, and you know it. Go on, now, -before I report you to the Board."</p> - -<p>Grumbling, Rocks had taken his cot and left. And Sharp had reported him -to the board anyhow, but that august body, in view of his youth and -the pathetic interest he had in archeology, had not reprimanded him. -They were archeologists themselves and they knew how the science gets -into the blood and bones of a man. Secretly, they had rather approved -of Rocks trying to sleep in the basement, so he could be near his -beloved relics of dead and gone civilizations. They were grooming him -for a place with the next expedition. "As likely a lad as I have ever -seen," old Andreas McCumber had said about him. In his day McCumber -had dug into half the buried cities in Asia Minor and it was his boast -that he knew a man who had the makings of an archeologist when he -saw one. "Of course he's young yet. But a little seasoning will cure -that." Rocks was twenty-three, but to McCumber, who was past seventy, -twenty-three was only late boyhood. "Besides," McCumber had rumbled in -his beard at the board meeting. "Penny will—ah—comb my whiskers—if -she—ah—discovers that I have permitted him to sleep in the basement."</p> - -<p>Penny was McCumber's grand-daughter.</p> - -<p>But Rocks had already located a room about two blocks from the museum -and had moved in.</p> - -<p>That was why the police found him so quickly.</p> - -<p>It was an August night, as hot as hades, and Rocks was sleeping with -both feet practically out the window, to take advantage of the late -breeze. He awakened to the sound of his landlady's protesting voice.</p> - -<p>"But I tell you, Officer, you can't want Mr. Malone. He's a fine boy -and I will vouch for him personally. I'm sure he hasn't done anything -wrong."</p> - -<p>"I'm not saying he's done anything wrong, madam," a bass rumble -answered. "But the officer on the beat said he lived here."</p> - -<p>A rap sounded on the door. Rocks took his feet out of the window and -said, "Come in."</p> - -<p>A blue-coated figure thrust his head in. "You Malone?" he inquired.</p> - -<p>"Yes. What's wrong?"</p> - -<p>"We want you over at the Museum."</p> - -<p>Rocks was already grabbing for his clothes, jerking them on over his -pajamas. "What's wrong? What's happened?"</p> - -<p>The cop shook his head. He was still a little white around the gills. -"We don't know what's happened. The sawbones wasn't there when I left. -But we want you to identify a man."</p> - -<p>"Why can't he identify himself?"</p> - -<p>The officer wiped perspiration from his face. "Because he's dead."</p> - -<p>"Dead!" The word leaped from Rocks' lips. The first shiver of fear -knifed through him. He was not yet wide awake and he hadn't fully -comprehended what the officer wanted. But that single word shocked him -to instant wakefulness.</p> - -<p>In the basement of the museum they found three men talking earnestly -in a corner. They weren't in uniform but their bearing fairly shouted -"Detective!" They looked scared. Rocks didn't know it then, but these -three men belonged to the homicide squad. They were accustomed to -looking at violent death in all its forms. Stiffs didn't scare them.</p> - -<p>But they <i>were</i> scared.</p> - -<p>They had the uneasy alertness of the man-hunter who senses danger.</p> - -<p>His escort turned Rocks over to them.</p> - -<p>"I'm Kennedy; homicide bureau," said one of them. He had a heavy, -impassive face and eyes that were drills of jet. "Sorry to bother you, -Malone. You work here?"</p> - -<p>"I'm on the staff."</p> - -<p>"Good. The doc is already here. We want you to identify a body, if you -can. Come this way."</p> - -<p>Kennedy led Rocks to the large basement room, the other two -plain-clothesmen following behind.</p> - -<p>This was the room where the specimens brought back from the four -corners of Asia were uncrated and cleaned and prepared for display -on the floors above. Loot from the tomb of forgotten kings, bits of -pottery from Ephesus, a winged bull carved out of the stone of Nineveh, -mummy cases from Egypt—for Egypt was included by the museum—beads -from the valley of the Tigris-Euphrates, big and little, the relics of -lost and dead centuries were piled here. Even in the daylight the place -was ghostly.</p> - -<p>Photographers were popping flashlight bulbs and taking pictures of -the exact position of the body. As Rocks entered they took their last -picture and stood aside and the doctor from the coroner's office bent -over the body and began his examination.</p> - -<p>Then Rocks saw the body on the floor. He recoiled. "My God! That's -Samuel Morton."</p> - -<p>His respect for Morton amounted almost to reverence. Morton was a -world-wide figure in the field of archeology, and to Rocks Malone, -he was little short of a god. Rocks had looked up to this man, had -longed to be like him. On the next expedition, Rocks was to go along as -Morton's assistant.</p> - -<p>Now Morton was dead.</p> - -<p>"What—what happened?" Rocks whispered.</p> - -<p>The doctor stood up. His face was ashen.</p> - -<p>"That's what I would like to know—what happened. This man has been -dead less than an hour."</p> - -<p>"At eleven-thirty Central phoned in there was a receiver off the hook -here and said the operator thought somebody had tried to call the -police," Kennedy interrupted.</p> - -<p>"Heh?" the doctor queried. His professional aplomb had deserted him -completely. "The important point is: what was the cause of death? To my -knowledge there is no record in medical history of a death like this. -Look."</p> - -<p>"I've already looked," Kennedy said, turning away. "Once is enough."</p> - -<p>Rocks looked again at the solid, craggy face he had known so well. The -skin had always been tanned, but now it was red. Puffed and discolored. -And <i>red</i>—like a chunk of raw beefsteak, like the carcass of a skinned -animal. The first impression he got was that the skin had been removed. -But he bent over, fighting against the sickness in his stomach, and saw -that the skin had not been removed. It had been punctured, in literally -thousands of places. Morton's face looked like thousands of pins had -been stuck in it. When the pins had been removed, the blood oozed -through.</p> - -<p>A later report by the medical examiner disclosed that there was not a -spot on Morton's body that was not full of microscopic holes—millions -of them. Even the soles of his feet, protected by his shoes, showed -the same horrible markings.</p> - -<p>But it was the coat that held Rocks' eyes. Where the doctor had taken -hold of it, the cloth had crumbled. Rocks tested it. The cloth fell -away in his fingers, fell into a dark ash. The cloth looked all right, -until it was touched. Then it crumbled into a dust as fine as powder.</p> - -<p>The hottest fire would not leave so fine an ash.</p> - -<p>"What do you think killed him, Doc?" Kennedy asked.</p> - -<p>The doctor brushed perspiration from his face. "Really, I could not -hazard an opinion. There is nothing like this in medical records. It's -appalling. I trust—ah—that it is not some new kind of plague. No, -it couldn't be that. No disease would destroy his clothing. I can't -even begin to guess what happened, but the body must be removed for a -complete examination."</p> - -<p>Rocks was so sunk in grief that he scarcely noticed the men who lifted -all that was mortal of the old archeologist on to a stretcher.</p> - -<p>Kennedy came to him and said sympathetically. "Don't take it so hard, -Malone. Morton, I guess, was a friend of yours."</p> - -<p>Rocks told the detective what the archeologist had meant to him. -Kennedy's eyes softened. "I'm sorry, Malone. We'll do everything we can -to discover what happened, but frankly I don't know which way to turn. -I've been talking on the phone to some of the men who are in charge of -the museum. McCumber was one, Sharp was another. They're on their way -over here."</p> - -<p>The detective hesitated. "Malone, maybe you can help us."</p> - -<p>"I'll do anything I can."</p> - -<p>"Good. When I talked to Mr. Sharp, he said, 'I knew something like this -was going to happen. I knew it!' When I asked him what he meant he said -something about a box that Morton had brought back with him from Asia."</p> - -<p>"Box?" The touch of an eerie chill raced down Rocks' spine. "Yes. -There it is, sitting on the scale we use to weigh specimens."</p> - -<p>The lid was open.</p> - -<p>"He—he must have opened it this afternoon," Rocks said.</p> - -<p>He wondered what Morton had found in that box. Treasure—or something -else? It was empty now, the lid back, the cunning combination lock -visible.</p> - -<p>But what had been in the box they did not know, until Sharp got there -and told his story.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">CHAPTER II</p> - -<p>Sharp, the business manager, was a prim-faced nervous individual. He -had an eye tick. It was working overtime now. He spoke rapidly, the -words running over each other.</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes, I'll tell you exactly what happened. It was horrible, -terrible." He mopped his face. "Mr. Morton had just succeeded in -opening this box when I entered."</p> - -<p>"How long had the box been here?" Kennedy interrupted.</p> - -<p>"I—ah—about three months have elapsed since Mr. Morton returned from -his last expedition. He brought it back with him."</p> - -<p>"Three months to open it?" Kennedy said doubtfully. "Why didn't he use -a torch on it?"</p> - -<p>"I think I can answer that," McCumber said. The old archeologist had -arrived a few minutes after the business manager. He had received the -news of the death of his associate calmly but it was obvious that he -was deeply affected. He and Morton had been fellow workers for more -than forty years. Now Morton was dead, and McCumber's sorrow was too -deep for expression. It didn't show on his face. But when he entered -the basement, he leaned rather heavily on his granddaughter's arm. -Penny, who always drove his car for him, had driven him down. Now she -stood, pale and silent, beside his chair.</p> - -<p>"There were several reasons why we didn't use a cutting torch," -McCumber said. "Foremost was the fact that, whatever the contents of -the box were, we did not wish to damage them. Secondly, we felt that -in time we would discover the secret of opening it. And in the third -place, force would have ruined the delicate hieroglyphics inscribed on -it. We especially did not want to do that."</p> - -<p>The detective turned again to Sharp. "Will you tell us what was in the -box, sir?"</p> - -<p>The business manager moistened his lips. A hush fell over the group. -The officer in uniform twisted uneasily. The two detectives tried to -show nothing, but then forced expressions showed the fear that gnawed -at them. Kennedy's black eyes were lances of apprehension.</p> - -<p>Rocks Malone moved across the room and stood beside Penny, a gesture -purely protective. His mind was in a turmoil as he waited for Sharp to -speak. Was there a connection between that box and Morton's death? What -kind of a connection? His eyes strayed toward it. Under the lights he -could see the hieroglyphics delicately carved on it.</p> - -<p>What was the message that the unknown writer had tried to convey -with those wavy lines? Had he cut a warning sign, a—Hands -Off—Danger—symbol to warn against opening it? Had—But Sharp was -speaking.</p> - -<p>"I had come down to the basement to discuss with Mr. Morton certain -items in the budget for his next expedition. He had just opened the -box. He said, 'Oh, I say, Sharp, come here, will you? I want you to -tell me what you see in this box.'</p> - -<p>"To be frank, I was curious about the contents myself. I, and I -imagine everyone connected with the museum, had been of the opinion -that perhaps the box contained treasure, possibly jewels, which in the -present state of our finances, would be of great help to us."</p> - -<p>Sharp hesitated, seeking words. From the night came the rattle of -a street car and the clang of the motor-man's bell. The blower fan -rustled as it pushed air into the basement. On the mummy case the -alarm clock—set to remind Morton when it was time to quit work and go -home—ticked noisily.</p> - -<p>"What was in it?" Kennedy husked.</p> - -<p>Sharp took a deep breath. "At first, I saw nothing, and the immediate -impression I gained was that it was empty. Then, as I bent over to peer -into the box, I caught a glimpse of its contents."</p> - -<p>Everyone in the room leaned forward as Sharp hesitated. He said,</p> - -<p>"I don't know what that thing in the box was. I can't ever hazard a -guess. But a beam of light leaped at me from the box, and the light -originated at a spot that was several inches above the bottom. In other -words, <i>it came from nothingness</i>.</p> - -<p>"As I straightened up, the light vanished. Morton said, 'Did you see -that damned thing?' I asked him what it was. He didn't know but he -seemed puzzled and perturbed and he asked me to look again.</p> - -<p>"Then I began to see more clearly. There was something in the box, -<i>something that was almost invisible</i>."</p> - -<p>"Invisible?" Kennedy breathed huskily.</p> - -<p>"Yes. Almost invisible. From certain positions we could see the -contents of the receptacle—a smoky, misty mass. That's the only way I -can describe it. A smoky mass. It was unreal, and just trying to look -at it strained the eyes."</p> - -<p>"What happened then?" Kennedy said.</p> - -<p>"Morton thrust his hand into the box. <i>And his hand disappeared!</i>"</p> - -<p>"What!"</p> - -<p>"His fingers, up to the knuckles, simply disappeared. No, they weren't -cut off. The effect was similar to thrusting the hand into a basin -of murky water. Morton instantly jerked his hand out, and it was -uninjured, except that the fingers were stained a faint red. The point -is—there was something in the box that was almost invisible, and an -object thrust into it was rendered invisible, too.</p> - -<p>"Morton was tremendously puzzled. I can't recall his exact words, -but he seemed to be of the opinion that the contents of the box were -extra-dimensional."</p> - -<p>"Extra-dimensional?" Kennedy interrogated.</p> - -<p>"Something like that," Sharp admitted. "Oh I know it sounds utterly -fantastic. I was of the opinion that Morton did not know what he was -talking about, but later events showed me that I was wrong."</p> - -<p>"What happened next?" the detective queried.</p> - -<p>"This happened," Sharp answered. The man was trembling. The -handkerchief with which he tried to mop his face fluttered in an -unsteady hand.</p> - -<p>"<i>Either something came out of that box, or something came through that -box and escaped into the basement!</i>"</p> - -<p>Sharp's eyes went over the room, jerking from object to object like -a man who suspects the presence of an incredible enemy and is warily -watching for that enemy to strike.</p> - -<p>The action sent cold chills up Rocks Malone's back. Something had come -out of that box. It might still be here in the museum. Sharp thought it -might be. He was looking for it.</p> - -<p>"Through the box?" McCumber spoke. "I don't understand. How could -anything come through it?"</p> - -<p>"I don't understand either," the business manager answered. "I'm only -telling you what Morton thought. He said the box might be a gateway -between this world and a higher dimensional world. If the box is such a -gateway, then something came through it. If it is not a gateway, then -something came out of the box and escaped into the basement."</p> - -<p>His eyes ran from face to face of his hearers.</p> - -<p>"How do you know something came out?" McCumber persisted. He seemed to -have taken over the questioning from Kennedy.</p> - -<p>"Because I saw it," Sharp answered.</p> - -<p>In the silence of the basement Rocks could hear several men breathing -heavily.</p> - -<p>"It lifted up, out of the box," Sharp continued. "It was a mass of -grayish smoke, of shifting planes and impossible angles. It rose -straight up and seemed to pause in the air. While it hung in the -air—and I cannot begin to suggest an explanation for this—I suddenly -seemed to lose my hearing. I couldn't hear a sound. There was utter, -complete silence. It was the oddest sensation I have ever experienced."</p> - -<p>Again the handkerchief wiped sweat from his face.</p> - -<p>"Then—like a finger snap—the thing vanished. It disappeared into thin -air. And when it vanished, I recovered from my deafness."</p> - -<p>Rocks felt Penny's fingers searching for his hand. Her hand slid into -his. She was trembling.</p> - -<p>The detectives were pale, their faces bloodless. How much they had -really understood of Sharp's description was open to doubt. Only a -mathematical physicist could have grasped all the possibilities he had -opened, and the cops weren't physicists. But they were alert. One had -half-drawn his run. They were warily looking around the room.</p> - -<p>"What did you do then?" McCumber persisted.</p> - -<p>"We naturally spent some time searching the basement. When we found -nothing, I began to suspect we were the victims of an illusion, that -nothing had really come out of the box, that our imaginations were -playing us tricks. Consequently, since it was already late in the -afternoon, I departed. I thought nothing more of the matter until the -police called me and told me that a man was dead here. Then I instantly -realized that something had come out of the box, something utterly -foreign to the science of our present day, something of which we have -no knowledge, but which may be here now, watching us, waiting to pounce -on its next victim—"</p> - -<p>He subsided, and Kennedy, looking closely at him, shoved him a chair. -"Here, sir. You had better sit down."</p> - -<p>Sharp almost collapsed. "Thanks," he muttered.</p> - -<p>"One further question," McCumber said. "Where was the box sitting when -Morton opened it?"</p> - -<p>"Why—" Sharp looked startled. "On that heavy table." He pointed to a -table across the room.</p> - -<p>"But it's on the scales now," McCumber said, nodding his head toward it.</p> - -<p>"Yes, it is," Sharp answered. "Mr. Morton must have moved it after I -left."</p> - -<p>McCumber turned to the detectives. "Gentlemen, if I may suggest it, I -think it would be wise to search the museum."</p> - -<p>The detectives looked like they didn't enjoy the task, but they went -about it efficiently, guns drawn. The others remained in the basement. -Sharp kept up a running fire of nervous conversation, to which McCumber -paid little attention. The old archeologist seemed to be lost in -thought.</p> - -<p>Kennedy returned. The detective was very pale. "We didn't find -anything," he said. "We still don't know whether it's here or not. But -we can't take a chance of that thing getting loose. We'll stay here, as -a guard." He looked sharply at McCumber and the business manager. "If I -may suggest it, this has been quite a strain on you. Perhaps it would -be best if you went home and rested. However if someone who is familiar -with the museum will stay—"</p> - -<p>"I'll stay," said Rocks.</p> - -<p>"No," Penny protested. "If that thing should attack you—"</p> - -<p>Over her protests, Rocks stayed. However he walked out to the car with -them. Sharp came out of the museum with them, but he had his own car, -and drove off immediately.</p> - -<p>McCumber settled himself in the seat, and Penny, still protesting, slid -under the wheel.</p> - -<p>"What do you think, sir?" Rocks queried. "Do you have any suggestions -about looking for that—thing?"</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid I don't, lad," the old man answered. "Nothing like it -has ever been seen before." He reached into his pocket for his pipe. -His questing fingers brought from the pocket not only the pipe but a -spherical piece of glass that looked like a child's marble. He held it -under the dash lamp. "A marble? Wonder where I picked that up?" Then he -dropped it back into his pocket as he explored for his tobacco. "This -much I can say, lad. Whatever it was that came out of that box, the -museum, in a sense, is responsible. We brought the damned thing to this -country. We've got to capture or destroy it before it does any more -damage. If such a thing should escape into the city, the results might -be terrible. I'll be down early in the morning, lad. I hate to go off -like this, but the old body won't take punishment like it once would. -You be careful."</p> - -<p>"I will, sir."</p> - -<p>"You darned well better be," said Penny, as she slipped the car into -gear.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Rocks returned to the museum. With Kennedy and the other detectives he -again made a complete search of the building. The museum was filled -with nooks and crannies where anything might hide. They found nothing.</p> - -<p>They were again in the basement when the telephone on the main floor -started ringing.</p> - -<p>Who would be calling at this time of the night, Rocks wondered as he -raced upward to answer it. Very few people knew the number.</p> - -<p>He jerked the phone from its hook, and the voice in his ears almost -took his breath away. It was Penny. She was screaming.</p> - -<p>"Rocks, please come quickly. That terrible thing is here. It's got -grandfather. Hurry, please—"</p> - -<p>He waited to hear no more.</p> - -<p>"Come on," he yelled to the detectives. "That damned thing is loose -again."</p> - -<p>Sirens screamed in the night as the squad car raced to the home of -Andreas McCumber. Rocks rode in the seat beside Kennedy, and urged the -detective to drive faster.</p> - -<p>"I'm doing seventy now," Kennedy grated.</p> - -<p>"Then do eighty," Rocks answered. Blood was running down his chin -where he had bitten his lips. In his mind was the single thought: has -something happened to Penny?</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">CHAPTER III</p> - -<p>Penny's parents were dead. She lived with her grandfather, in a huge -old brick house on a side street.</p> - -<p>They found her lying at the foot of the front steps. Rocks' heart -leaped into his mouth when he saw the white form lying there, crumpled -and twisted, in the rays from the light burning over the front door. -Until that moment he had not fully known how much she meant to him.</p> - -<p>"Penny," he whispered.</p> - -<p>Had the same horrible death struck at her? Had she tried to flee only -to find death racing after her, death coming faster than she could run?</p> - -<p>He was trembling as he knelt beside her.</p> - -<p>Then—she stirred in his arms. Her dress did not fall into dust at his -touch, as Morton's clothing had. And her skin was white, not a hideous -blotched red. Death had passed her by.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Rocks," she whispered. "It was awful—"</p> - -<p>Kennedy and his two men paused only long enough to make certain Penny -was not injured. Then they went on into the house, and Rocks, even in -the pressure of that moment, found time to admire their courage. Good -boys, those cops were. They knew they might find something inside that -house against which their guns would prove useless. But they drew the -guns, and went in.</p> - -<p>"Are you all right?" Rocks whispered.</p> - -<p>"I—I think so. After I called you, I ran outside to call for help and -I slipped and fell down the steps."</p> - -<p>He picked her up and carried her inside, laid her on a divan. He did -not ask about her grandfather. He could hear the detectives on the -floor above. They had stopped racing through the house, jerking open -doors. They were all gathered in one room and they weren't saying much.</p> - -<p>Then Kennedy came down the stairs, with one of his men. "Malone," he -called softly.</p> - -<p>"Here," Rocks answered. Kennedy came in. His eyes were black agates in -a mask of dough. He slipped his gun back into its holster and said to -the man who followed him, "You stay here with the girl. Malone, will -you come upstairs with me?"</p> - -<p>Rocks nodded. The detective led the way upstairs.</p> - -<p>McCumber lay on the floor. The skin of his face was a blotch of red. -His clothing had fallen away into dust. He had been working at his -desk. When death struck him he had fallen to the floor.</p> - -<p>Kennedy took a sheet from the bed and placed it over the still form.</p> - -<p>Penny, very pale but very resolute, came into the room.</p> - -<p>"Are you strong enough to tell us what happened?" Kennedy asked gently.</p> - -<p>"I came in to kiss him goodnight," she answered. "He was lying there on -the floor. I started to run to the telephone—then I heard something." -She shuddered. "It was—I didn't hear anything. You can't hear silence, -I suppose. But I did hear it. My feet didn't make any sound on the -floor. I know I screamed, but I couldn't ever hear the sound of my own -voice. I ran to call the museum, then I ran outside to call for help."</p> - -<p>"Did you see anything in the room?"</p> - -<p>"No. The desk light was burning and most of the room was in shadows, -but if anything was here, I didn't see it. But—" she paused.</p> - -<p>"What is it, miss?" Kennedy inquired gently.</p> - -<p>"It isn't anything I'm sure of," she answered. "But I think that thing -followed us home from the museum. I had the feeling that we were being -followed."</p> - -<p>"Did you see anything following you?"</p> - -<p>She shook her head. "It was just an impression, a feeling."</p> - -<p>"You had better go lie down," said Rocks. "We'll take care of -everything." He looked at Kennedy. "Can she have a man to be on guard -outside her door?"</p> - -<p>"She sure can. I'll call headquarters and get a special detail here at -once." Gently Rocks led her to her room. Better than anyone else, he -knew how impossible it was to put into words anything that would make -her feel better. Only time could do that. And now that the terrible -death had struck twice, he knew that Penny might be in danger. No one -could tell where it would strike again. Or why.</p> - -<p>It was a death that came in silence. It came out of nowhere, struck, -and passed back into nowhere, leaving no clues behind it. It had come -out of a metal box found in the tomb of a king forgotten for six -thousand years. It was older than the king. It was older than history. -It came out of the black past of the planet with horrible, monstrous -death. Sharp had seen it—a creature of planes and angles, flashing -lights, a creature that disappeared at will, and reappeared elsewhere. -It had been here in this home, and had struck down a man. It might be -here still, watching, waiting.</p> - -<p>Penny cried as she lay on her bed and wiped the tears away, and tried -to think. How had it entered the house? The doors had been locked. -Of course it could have secured entrance through an open window, but -how had it passed so unerringly through the rooms, seeking out her -grandfather? Why had it killed him? Did he threaten its existence?</p> - -<p>Penny tried to think, and tried not to.</p> - -<p>Rocks talked to Kennedy. The burly detective said, "If this was an -ordinary murder, I would know how to handle it. The first thing we -always look for is the motive. When we find that, we've got the killer. -But there's no motive here—there's not anything. Frankly, Malone, -I'm up a tree. We've got to find that thing, and destroy it, quickly. -Supposing it should start wandering loose through the streets of -Chicago—" The detective shuddered. "Malone, if you have any ideas, -let's have them. I admit I don't know what to do."</p> - -<p>Rocks had been thinking too. "This thing came out of that box back in -the museum. If the secret of controlling it is anywhere, it's written -on the lid of that box." He gritted his teeth. "I don't think we have a -chance in a million of cracking that language, but right now it's the -only thing I see to try."</p> - -<p>"We'll go back to the museum," said Kennedy. "I can't help with the -language, but I want another look around that place."</p> - -<p>The authorities responsible in cases of sudden death had already -arrived at the McCumber home. Kennedy left a special detail to guard -Penny. He and Rocks went back to the museum.</p> - -<p>Rocks went to work. He began to try to crack the hieroglyphics written -on the lid of the box. That his task was all but impossible, he well -knew.</p> - -<p>He could read Sanskrit, Babylonian cuneiform, and Egyptian picture -writing with fair readiness. He could translate ancient Hebrew and -ancient Greek. An archeologist had to know these languages.</p> - -<p>He thought the writing on the box might be in one of these languages.</p> - -<p>He began with Morton's notes.</p> - -<p>Then the telephone rang again. Kennedy went to answer it. He came back -very excited.</p> - -<p>"That was the girl—Penny," he said. "She may have something. She -described a piece of round glass and said her grandfather had found it -in his pocket tonight as he left the museum. She wanted to know if we -had found it. I didn't. Did you?"</p> - -<p>"No," Rocks answered. "But I can't see how it is important."</p> - -<p>"Nor can I," Kennedy answered. "But it might be. I'll call and see if -it has been found. She also mentioned another thing, and this, I think, -is really important."</p> - -<p>"What was it?"</p> - -<p>"She said her grandfather was writing at his desk when he was killed. -The piece of paper on which he was writing was under a blotter and we -missed it. She found it. The old man had written a single question on -it."</p> - -<p>Rocks had risen from his chair. Here, he realized, might be a clue that -would lead them to the capture of the incredible creature that was -loose within the city. "What was the question?"</p> - -<p>"'Why did Morton weigh the box a second time?'" Kennedy said.</p> - -<p>"Why did he—" Rocks sat down again. His eyes went across the room to -the box. It was sitting on the scales where Morton had placed it.</p> - -<p>"It's routine here," Rocks said slowly, "to weigh all specimens as soon -as they are brought in. Many statuettes, etc., were constructed as -hiding places for gems. We weigh them, compute their specific gravity, -and thus determine if they contain a hollow place that might be worth -investigating."</p> - -<p>His eyes lit up. "Morton weighed that box before it was opened. He -opened it, and something came out of it. But, from Sharp's description, -they were in doubt as to whether something had really come out of the -box. There was one way to prove something had come out of it—weigh it -again and check its present weight with its weight when it was brought -in."</p> - -<p>Rocks leaped across the room to the scales, checked the weight of the -box. It weighed 121 pounds. Quickly he found Morton's notes and located -the weight of the box when it was first brought to the museum.</p> - -<p>"Before it was opened it weighed an even 130 pounds," he said. "Now it -only weighs 121. That proves that something came out of it."</p> - -<p>Kennedy whistled. "Nine pounds of sudden death. Well, we don't need -any proof to know that something came out of that box. We've got two -dead men to prove it. Look," the detective finished, "I'm going back to -McCumber's residence and see if I can locate that piece of glass. You -keep trying to crack that language."</p> - -<p>He went out of the room on the run. The motor of the squad car howled -to sudden life outside as the detective left.</p> - -<p>Rocks expected Kennedy to return. But he didn't come back that night. -He called instead. "I'm at the undertaker's. They didn't find any piece -of red glass. I've been over McCumber's house with a magnifying glass. -It isn't there. Either the thing that killed him destroyed it, or -somebody picked it up. You getting anywhere with that language?"</p> - -<p>"No," Rocks groaned.</p> - -<p>"Well, keep trying. My hunch is that everything depends on whether or -not you solve those hieroglyphics. I've got some checking to do on this -end. I'll call you if anything turns up." The detective hung up.</p> - -<p>Rocks went back to the basement. His job was to crack the language. And -what a job that was!</p> - -<p>The night ended. Dawn came. The morning was passing. Rocks worked on.</p> - -<p>The museum was closed that day. The police were not willing to take a -chance on some visitor stumbling into a death that came in silence. Nor -was the museum itself. Sharp called in and gave explicit orders on -that point.</p> - -<p>Rocks drank strong coffee, and worked, and failed. The language was not -similar to cuneiform. It was not like any language he knew. Every time -he realized that fact, he shivered. It had either been invented by a -people so long lost in the past that history had no record of them, or -it didn't belong on earth at all.</p> - -<p>Yet someone, somewhere, had constructed that box, and had used it to -safeguard something. Perhaps they had used it as a prison, to cage -a creature they could not control, an entity unknown to the science -of the present. Perhaps later peoples had created legends about -it—Pandora's Box. Perhaps this was really Pandora's Box that Morton -had brought back from Asia Minor.</p> - -<p>The creature had waited in that box for uncounted centuries. Now a new -race had opened the door of his prison.</p> - -<p>Now the Lord of the Silent Death was free again.</p> - -<p>Rocks Malone kept wondering when and where he would strike.</p> - -<p>During the whole day there was not even a whisper of the incredible -silence in which men's lives were blotted out.</p> - -<p>But when the second night came—</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">CHAPTER IV</p> - -<p>At nine o'clock that night Rocks was ready to drop from exhaustion. He -was not only so tired that the hieroglyphics blurred before his eyes, -but he had failed. That hurt worse than anything else. Everything -depended on his cracking the lost language, and he had failed.</p> - -<p>At nine o'clock it happened.</p> - -<p>There were three officers on duty at the museum. They had been sent -there as a guard detail and they had brought in a radio so they could -listen to the police calls. They had the radio in a room on the first -floor, so it would not disturb Rocks.</p> - -<p>At nine o'clock one of them came stumbling downstairs. His face was -ashen. "Hell's broken loose," he said tersely. "It's coming in over the -radio. Come on upstairs if you want to listen. You might as well forget -that language now."</p> - -<p>Over and over again the announcer was droning. "Calling all -cars—Calling all cars—Drop everything and be on the alert. Tragedy in -burlesque showhouse. Over three hundred people dead. Cause of death not -known. Manager went in to investigate sudden silence. Found audience -and cast of show dead. Bodies livid color, as if they had been burned. -Clothing falls to ashes when touched. Sergeant Kennedy of the homicide -division suggests there is a definite connection between the death of -these people and the death of the two Asian Museum archeologists last -night. Be on the alert. Take over main intersections and prevent panic. -Story already broken in general radio news flash. Cordon being thrown -around the theater area. All special details canceled, all squad cars -call your stations for definite orders—Be on the alert—Calling all -cars—"</p> - -<p>Death was walking through Chicago, a horrible, incredible form of death.</p> - -<p>Rocks Malone stood without moving, listening to the operator repeat his -message. He could scarcely conceive the meaning of the words. "Over -three hundred people dead—" Dim pictures flashed to his mind. Out of -nowhere, out of nothingness, silence had come. Three hundred people -had died. Before they knew what struck them, death had washed over -them. Millions of microscopic needles had plunged through their bodies, -points of agonizing pain. Then death—</p> - -<p>Jerkily, the telephone rang. One of the officers grabbed it. He -listened, said "Okay," huskily, and turned to his fellows.</p> - -<p>"Station calling. We're to report back there immediately for emergency -duty. They're calling us off here. Come on."</p> - -<p>The radio was still droning as they went out.</p> - -<p>The telephone rang again. It was Penny this time.</p> - -<p>"I'm coming down there," she said, "I'm scared. I'm coming down there -with you."</p> - -<p>"Stay away from here!" Rocks shouted. But she had already hung up. -Desperately, he tried to call her back. There was no answer. She had -already left. She was driving toward the museum, driving through a -night in which death lurked.</p> - -<p>Rocks groaned. He went back to the basement. There was nothing he could -do. Nothing! The coffee pot was bubbling on its burner. He poured -himself a cup of the scalding brew. It burned his throat but it cleared -his head.</p> - -<p>He went back to work. The language was out. He couldn't crack it. He -didn't even have time to try to crack it any more. But there were -Morton's notes. He hadn't studied them thoroughly. He had read only -those portions of the notes that dealt with the language. He began -to go over them again, starting with the section that dealt with the -discovery of the box.</p> - -<p>Jan. 10, 1940—Morton had written—Discovered today what is -unquestionably the tomb of a Sumerian king. Located in a hillside. Cut -out of solid rock. Landslide centuries ago had covered entrance. But -even more important, in my opinion, than the tomb is the discovery of -the strange metal box that we found in a niche at the back. We are -unable to determine the metal of which the box is constructed. It is -covered with mould but shows no sign of rust or corrosion, which is -exceedingly unusual, for this tomb dates back into the past for at -least six thousand years.</p> - -<p>"Jan. 12, 1940. Box very heavy—must weigh more than a hundred pounds. -Frankly, aside from its archeological interest, I am curious to know -the contents of this box. There is a possibility of gold or gems. Guess -I'm human after all, to be thinking about wealth. Am writing full -details to the museum.</p> - -<p>"Jan. 15, 1940. Unable to open box. Must have cunning combination -lock. Also unable to decipher inscription on it. Don't know this form -of writing. No record of it anywhere. This is exceedingly unusual. A -completely forgotten language rediscovered."</p> - -<p>Rocks Malone went through the notes, reading swiftly, searching, hoping -for a clue. Outside in the night death was stalking. And there was a -possibility that the clue to the death lay here, in the notes of the -dead archeologist.</p> - -<p>Penny came in. He went to meet her. She flew to his arms. "It's awful -outside," she whispered. "Thousands of people must have heard the news -broadcast. Half of them are trying to get to the theater where all -those people were killed. The others are trying to get away. Oh, Rocks, -have you discovered anything."</p> - -<p>He shook his head. She looked again at his unshaven, haggard face, and -said nothing.</p> - -<p>He went back to the notes Morton had left. With Penny helping, he went -through them, down to the last page. "It's no use," he groaned. "Morton -didn't know anything about the thing that was in that damned box."</p> - -<p>Then he turned the last page. Morton had written that page only -yesterday, the day he died.</p> - -<p>"Sept. 21, 1940. Succeeded in opening the box today. As I suspected it -was closed by a combination lock. Deucedly clever thing, that lock. -Not like any lock in use today. Patent rights on it might provide the -museum with some of the cash it so badly needs.</p> - -<p>"To my great astonishment, and regret, when I opened the box, I found -it empty."</p> - -<p>Rocks Malone started at the words Morton had written. Penny had been -reading over her shoulder. He heard her catch her breath.</p> - -<p>EMPTY! The single word seemed to leap out at him. How on earth could -Morton make a mistake like that!</p> - -<p>There was another line of writing. "Weighed box. Find that it weighs -nine pounds less than it did when I brought it here."</p> - -<p>In the fleeting flash of a second, Rocks saw the whole picture. Or -almost all of it. There were parts that needed clearing up. But he knew -at last the real significance of the fact that Morton had weighed the -box a second time.</p> - -<p>"There's somebody coming!" Penny whispered.</p> - -<p>A step had sounded on the stairs outside the room. The door opened. -Sharp entered.</p> - -<p>He had a traveling bag with him.</p> - -<p>Rocks shoved the last page of Morton's notes out of sight, got to his -feet. "Hello," he said. "Have you heard the radio?"</p> - -<p>"I'll say I have," the business manager answered. "That's why I've got -this bag along. I'm getting away from here while I have a chance. It's -terrible—what happened to all those people at the theater. For all I -know, it might happen to me next. Have you," he paused, "have you found -anything that might—might lead to the capture of that horrible beast? -That's why I stopped here, before I left town."</p> - -<p>"No," Rocks answered. He walked across the basement toward the business -manager. He was ten feet away, he was five feet away. He stopped. "One -thing we have discovered. Morton's notes. He said in his notes that -when he opened the box he found it empty. What do you suppose he meant -by that?"</p> - -<p>Sharp looked perplexed. "Why, I have no idea. Perhaps he decided that -what we saw was an illusion after all."</p> - -<p>"I think not," Rocks contradicted. "He would certainly have mentioned -any creature such as you described if he had found such a thing in -the box. No, I think he meant exactly what he said. When he opened -the box, it was empty. That surprised him greatly. It also made him -suspicious. So he weighed it, to determine if somebody had already -opened it and removed its contents. <i>What did you find in that box, -Sharp!</i>"</p> - -<p>His words were hard and flat. There was no mistaking their challenge.</p> - -<p>Behind him he heard Penny whisper. "Oh, Rocks—"</p> - -<p>He knew he had made a mistake. He should have waited, let the law -handle the situation, let men trained for the task do the job. But -Morton had been his friend. And so had McCumber. And Morton and -McCumber were dead. And Rocks Malone was not a man to wait for someone -else to do what he considered his job.</p> - -<p>Sharp stood without moving, his close-set eyes drilling into the young -archeologist facing him. A second ticked into nothingness, and another, -and another. He was estimating the situation, considering the odds and -the chances.</p> - -<p>"I'm waiting," Rocks said grimly.</p> - -<p>"All right, snoopy," Sharp snarled. "This is what I found in it."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> - <div class="caption"> - <p><i>"All right, snoopie, here it is." Sharp lifted a strange implement from his bag and pointed it. "Duck," Penny shouted, "That's it!"</i></p> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>He jerked his bag open. His hand dived into it. It came out of the bag -with the strangest looking instrument Rocks had ever seen. Constructed -of pale silvery metal, fitted with a series of faceted lenses, it -glinted evilly under the lights.</p> - -<p>Because of the very nature of the instrument, Sharp handled it -clumsily. But there was no mistaking its purpose. He brought it up. -Penny screamed.</p> - -<p>Rocks stepped forward. His left hand flicked out. All the weight of his -body was behind that blow. He drove it straight at Sharp's chin. It -would have made Joe Louis bat his expressionless eyes. It would have -knocked Sharp's head almost off his shoulders—if it had landed.</p> - -<p>That was the trouble. It didn't land. Sharp saw it coming. He ducked -down and to one side, fumbling with the instrument he had taken from -his bag. The fist skidded across the top of his head. It sent him -staggering backward.</p> - -<p>"The next time," Rocks gritted. "I won't miss. I'll knock your damned -head off, you dirty murderer." He charged.</p> - -<p>Sharp brought the instrument up. Pale, scarcely visible flame lanced -from it, like a heat wave moving through air. It spurted forward, -soundlessly. As it leaped it seemed to absorb, to blot out all sound. -There was a sudden heavy silence in the museum basement, the sort of -silence that is so real it registers on the ear drums.</p> - -<p>Rocks saw the instrument coming up. He kicked himself to one side, in -a dancing step. The fringe of lambent flame barely touched him. But -that touch sent needles of agony through his body, sucked the life out -of him, turned his muscles into lumps of lead, threw him off balance, -so that his charge, instead of striking Sharp, barely grazed him. His -arms closed around the business manager's body. To keep himself from -falling, Rocks clinched.</p> - -<p>They wrestled. Sharp could not use the instrument. Rocks was so groggy -he could barely hold on. Sharp dug into him with his elbows, kicked -viciously at his shins.</p> - -<p>If he could only hold on, Rocks thought. The agony was lessening. The -groggy shadows were going from his mind. If he could only hold on for -another minute.</p> - -<p>He was holding on. He was winning. Soft living had made a weakling of -Sharp. He would be no match for the rugged, youthful muscles of Rocks -Malone, in a fair fight.</p> - -<p>Then Sharp struck upward. His fist hit Rocks in the chin. Malone sagged -downward. Shaking his head, he grabbed at Sharp again. And missed. And -fell to the floor. Before he could move, Sharp had leaped around a -table. He had brought the instrument up.</p> - -<p>"All right," he husked. "You asked for it, with your snooping. You're -going to get it. You and this girl."</p> - -<p>Rocks staggered to his feet. He leaned against the edge of the table, -panting, fighting for breath and strength. Sharp was across the table -from him. He was aiming the instrument.</p> - -<p>This time there would be no escaping it. It would point at him and -those almost invisible tongues of light would flash out, the deadly -silence would smash all sound into nothingness, and millions of -microscopic needles would tear through his flesh.</p> - -<p>Sharp fumbled for the firing button.</p> - -<p>Penny, crouched on the other side of the room, grabbed the handiest -object she could find, and threw it. It was the alarm clock. It struck -Sharp full in the face, and the alarm, jarred by the impact, went off.</p> - -<p>Probably the clang of the alarm bell started Sharp as much as the -impact of the clock. Certainly it did not hit him hard enough to harm -him. But it did startle him, scare him. He reeled backward.</p> - -<p>Rocks cleared the table with a single leap. He went up into the air -like a kangaroo and leaped, feet foremost, at Sharp. His feet struck -the business manager full in the stomach. Sharp doubled up like a -jackknife, and went to the floor. Rocks fell on top of him. He struck -viciously with his fists. Sharp cried in pain and Rocks struck harder. -The man was down, but he wasn't out. Rocks drew back his fist for the -final blow.</p> - -<p>It never landed. Down over his shoulder the barrel of a gun flashed. -Where it had come from, Rocks did not know. It struck the business -manager across the skull.</p> - -<p>His head popped like the breaking of a rotten egg. He went limp.</p> - -<p>Rocks looked up. Kennedy stood there. He was holding the pistol with -which he had struck Sharp, in his hand. He looked to see if he would -need to use it again. He saw he wouldn't.</p> - -<p>He whirled the gun around on its trigger guard.</p> - -<p>"Damn me for a fool," he said. "I could kick myself from here to the -Loop and back again. I missed a trick and it cost three hundred people -their lives."</p> - -<p>"What trick?" Rocks gasped.</p> - -<p>"I should have known this gazabo was lying," Kennedy snarled. "I should -have known his long cock and bull story about some incredible creature -coming out of that box was too fantastic for belief. I should have -known he was lying, out damn it, the sight of Morton's body so addled -my wits that I was willing to believe the story Sharp told. Oh, he -was smooth enough about it. He knew how the weapon he found killed. -He knew what it did to Morton's body, and he had to have a fantastic -story to account for the way Morton looked. He solved the secret of -that box soon after it was brought here. He had a reason for it too. -He had been playing the market and he was down on his uppers. If there -was a treasure in that box, he wanted first crack at it. He didn't -find any treasure in it. Instead he found some kind of a damned weapon -in it that came from God alone knows where. When he found Morton had -opened the box and was about to catch up with him by weighing the box, -he took the obvious out—by killing Morton, using the weapon he had -found in the box. He killed McCumber because the old man knew there -was something fishy about the box being on the scales. So he killed -McCumber—to shut him up."</p> - -<p>"But those people in the theater?" Rocks whispered.</p> - -<p>Kennedy exploded. "He needed money, needed it bad. I dug this all -up in my investigation today. He was trying to sell the weapon -he had discovered to the agents of a foreign power. They wanted -a demonstration before they would pay off. So he gave them a -demonstration. He showed them how efficient a weapon he had for -sale—by killing all the people in a theater."</p> - -<p>The detective was furiously angry. "And I let myself get taken in by a -story of a monster."</p> - -<p>Rocks had already picked up the instrument Sharp had found in that -box. He was studying it, looking it over. The principle on which -it operated, he couldn't begin to guess, but he saw one thing that -startled him enormously. He showed it to the detective.</p> - -<p>"Great Jehosophat!" Kennedy gasped. "A place for six fingers. Whoever -built that damned thing had six fingers."</p> - -<p>The Lord of the Silent Death was not an extra-dimensional monster. It -was a weapon that killed in utter silence.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The instrument that came out of the box from the tomb of the forgotten -Sumerian King is now in Washington, in the secret vaults of the War -Department. The experts are studying it, trying to fathom how it works. -They have begun to get hints of the principle involved. Only hints, but -something to go on. They have discovered that it kills in two ways. -The first, and obvious way, is by pointing it directly at its victim. -At the theatre he had sprayed the power, full on, across the audience, -then across the ensemble on the stage, then as he went out the back had -caught all others.</p> - -<p>The second way is worse. In Sharp's bag was found a sack of small round -objects that look like marbles. All the owner of the weapon needs to do -to kill an enemy is to drop one of those bits of glass in the enemy's -pocket. Then he can go off several miles and start the weapon. The -force it generates is concentrated in the bit of glass, and the silence -is instantly generated, the bit of glass being destroyed in the process.</p> - -<p>That was the method Sharp used to kill McCumber. As they left the -museum, Sharp dropped one of the bits of glass in the pocket of the -old archeologist's coat. McCumber had found it, but had attached no -significance to it.</p> - -<p>The experts hope that the War Department of this country will never -need such a weapon. But if it does, it will have it.</p> - -<p>But the thing that plagues the experts, that frets the archeologists, -that has caused Rocks Malone to tear his hair, is the fact that the -weapon was designed to be used by a creature who had six fingers. -Not five fingers. Six. And the archeologists are having drizzling -fits trying to decide whether there was once a race of six-fingered -creatures here on earth, a race that reached tremendous scientific -heights, and vanished.</p> - -<p>Or was earth once visited by creatures out of space, who left a weapon -behind them?</p> - -<p>Nobody knows. Possibly nobody will ever know.</p> - -<p>But Rocks Malone is preparing to leave for Asia Minor, to dig in the -ruins of lost and gone civilizations, searching for another clue to the -identity of the lost race.</p> - -<p>Penny is going with him.</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LORD OF THE SILENT DEATH ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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