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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #66081 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66081)
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Vault, by Murray Leinster
-
-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: The Vault
-
-Author: Murray Leinster
-
-Release Date: August 18, 2021 [eBook #66081]
-
-Language: English
-
-Produced by: Roger Frank and Sue Clark
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VAULT ***
-
-
-
-
-
-THE VAULT
-
-By Murray Leinster
-
-
-
-
-I
-
-
-The window slid up easily–too easily–and Mike waited a long time,
-listening, before he made a move. The whole huge pile of the factory
-was still. There were no lights anywhere, except that dim one by the
-gate through the stockade. Lying quite still in the darkness, Mike
-waited. There was no sound, no ringing of alarm bells, no bustle of
-activity anywhere. The manufacturing plant of the Whitney Jewelry &
-Watch Company remained as it had been before, a vast, still pile of
-brick, with empty-eyed windows staring blankly at the night.
-
-And yet.... That window had opened very easily. Mike meditated, his
-little eyes gleaming in the darkness. Then he saw a tiny flicker of
-light in the distance. The window he had opened was at the end of a
-long corridor, and he saw the watchman walking unhurriedly away from
-him. The watchman’s legs threw monstrous shadows from the lantern he
-carried, Mike could not see his face, but he could see the uniform
-and note the absolute leisure and confidence with which the man was
-moving. He paused, as Mike watched, and inserted his key in a
-watchman’s clock. He turned it, registering his presence and
-vigilance on a strip of paper within the mechanism. Then, casually,
-he went on his way. In a few moments he turned a corner and was lost
-to sight.
-
-Mike grinned to himself in the obscurity. With monkey-like agility
-he scrambled through the open window, making no sound. Once within
-the walls of the factory he waited another long minute for a noise.
-Distant and hollow, he heard the watchman’s footfalls, unhurried,
-methodical, as he made his round.
-
-Then, softly, Mike lowered the window. He wore rubber-soled shoes.
-His eyes were those of a cat, and his ears were attuned to the
-slightest warning of danger, but he heard no faintest sound–not even
-his own footfalls–save the distant, regular steps of the watchman.
-The watchman wore creaky shoes.
-
-Like some night-flying moth the intruder slipped through the
-corridors of the untenanted factory. All about him there were
-smells. Oil–that would be the delicate lathes where precious metals
-were worked. Once he smelled fresh paint. And there was that curious
-odor of freshly-mopped floors. The scrub-women had come after the
-closing of the factory and done their work. Then he smelled faded
-flowers. Someone had brought them and put them in a glass of water,
-and they had been left.
-
-Mike paid little or no attention to smells. The place he sought was
-on the second floor, in the rear–the colossal vault where all the
-precious things in which the factory dealt were gathered for safety
-during the night. He made his way there, silently. Every little
-while he stopped to listen for the unvarying footfalls of the
-watchman. They went on, unsuspicious and confident.
-
-Through an arduous and twice interrupted apprenticeship in his
-chosen trade–interruptions spent perforce behind stone walls–Mike
-had had drilled into him just two things. One was the fatality of
-haste. The other was the necessity for scientific, painstaking
-attention to detail. Therefore, Mike let his flashlight slip over
-the huge surface of the vault door with barely a pause. He knew the
-watchman would look in on it as he went downstairs. Primarily, he
-was looking for a place to hide during that moment.
-
-There was a door in the room which contained the vault, but Mike was
-not certain but that the watchman would return through it. He swept
-his light around the room–keeping it low, lest it flash out through
-a window–and regretfully decided against remaining. He went out
-again, swiftly and silently, looking for a hiding-place.
-
-He found it in a washroom, and listened from there while the
-watchman retraced his steps, coming downstairs again, going to the
-vault and throwing the glow from his lantern against it, then
-clumping off heavily to the lower part of the factory.
-
-Mike emerged from hiding. He inspected the vault room with greater
-care. He would have to work in snatches, between visits from the
-watchman, and he did not want to have to tap the man on the head.
-There are a great many systems of burglar protection, and one very
-popular one signals the nearest police station when a watchman fails
-to ring his time clock at the appointed intervals. Mike did not
-desire the intrusion of the police, but he wanted a nearby niche to
-hide in.
-
-The watchman’s footsteps died away. Mike waited to be sure, then
-opened the door he had noted. To be exact, he did not quite open it.
-He merely turned the knob, and a heavy weight leaning against it
-thrust it the rest of the way open, caromed clumsily against him,
-and fell with a curiously cushioned crash to the floor.
-
-Mike’s hair stood on end. In the fractional part of a split second
-he knew what had struck him, and he bounced into the air to alight
-noiselessly a full five feet away, ready for anything. But the thing
-lay still upon the floor, breathing.
-
-Slowly and cautiously Mike sent a momentary dart of light at it.
-What he saw at once reassured him and frightened him, because it was
-the last thing he could possibly have expected. It was a man–which
-he had known–but it was a man with his hands and feet bound together
-with leather straps, and so entwined with ropes that he could not
-even writhe. There was a gag in the figure’s mouth, and its eyes
-were staring wildly about.
-
-Mike was still for perhaps two seconds, while his brain raced. Then
-he sent a tiny pencil-beam at the vault door. It was closed,
-solidly. No one had been before him. But there was a man bound hand
-and foot....
-
-The light played upon him again. He was a young man, dressed as if
-he were a clerk or a bookkeeper in the factory. His eyes blinked and
-stared imploringly at Mike. There was some message, some terrible
-message, that he struggled to convey, but the gag prevented him.
-Mike watched him for an instant in mounting uneasiness and
-suspicion. That window had slipped up too easily....
-
-Suddenly there was a tiny creaking, as of a board stepped upon. Mike
-heard it, catalogued it and had dismissed his obvious refuge in an
-instant. Someone was coming, softly, toward the spot. Perhaps the
-watchman, alarmed by the crash. He would certainly find the bound
-man, but it might be that he would waste precious time releasing
-him.
-
-Tensely Mike swept the walls again. He could not go out the main
-door. He would run into the watchman. The one door he had noted was
-that of a closet. There was another, close beside the back of the
-vault.
-
-Dense blackness fell. A shadow but little deeper than the darkness
-about him, Mike flitted across the room. He vanished, utterly
-without sound.
-
-Then a faint scratching sound. The bound man was struggling to
-release himself, struggling with a terrible desperation and a
-horrifying futility. Mike, crouched down in a tiny book-closet,
-heard it. He was keyed up to an incredible pitch, every nerve
-quivering like a tightly-strung wire. Mike was no longer intent upon
-robbery. One of the first rules of your old-time safe-cracker is to
-go through with a job only when everything is right. Mike was as
-suspicious of the unexpected as any wild animal. Just now his only
-desire was to get away–peacefully, if possible, but to get away.
-
-He lay still. The scent of books and dust came to his nostrils, but
-he did not dare make a light to see. He smelled, too, that curious,
-rubbery smell of new electric insulation. There were wires in the
-closet somewhere, newly placed. Mike lay still.
-
-Then he felt, rather than heard, someone enter the vault-room. There
-was a door between him and the newcomer, but he knew the instant
-that the other man entered. There was a moment of silence. Mike saw
-an infinitely faint glow through the keyhole. Someone was using a
-flash.
-
-
-
-
-II
-
-
-Frozen in utter stillness, Mike listened for the watchman’s
-exclamation of astonishment at sight of the bound man on the floor.
-Instead, he heard only a faint murmur. Then he caught words, faintly
-amused.
-
-“Just got out, Jack, eh? I heard you fall. Out of luck, though. The
-watchman was in the other building. I saw him go in. He didn’t hear
-you.”
-
-Then little noises as if the helpless man were being turned
-over–inspected to make sure the bonds were firmly in place. Then
-Mike felt that the last-come man was somewhat relieved.
-
-“Don’t know how you got loose, Jack,” said the voice, as before kept
-lowered, “but you didn’t do any harm, anyhow. And the watchman won’t
-be back for an hour yet. I’ll be getting to work.”
-
-There was a sound like a groan, as if the bound man were trying to
-make some sound or plea; but footsteps crossed lightly to the vault.
-
-“Wondering, Jack, who I am, or did you recognize me?” The second man
-had stopped before the vault door. Mike heard an infinitely faint
-rustling, as of thin rubber being manipulated. He guessed at rubber
-gloves. “I think you must’ve recognized me when I slugged you.
-Anyway, since I asked you to wait a minute after office hours and
-then hit you with a sandbag, you must have guessed, while you’ve
-been waiting, that I was responsible for the matter.”
-
-There was a little pause and a slight snapping sound, as if an
-elastic had been flicked into place.
-
-“Yep, Jack, I’m Saunders, your boss. Don’t mind telling you, now,
-because you’re not going to split on me. I’m going to loot the
-safe–clean, this time, and quit. By the way, Jack, I’m putting on
-rubber gloves, but, rather curiously, they’ll leave your
-fingerprints on the safe knob. You see, I’ve done this twice before.
-Once I got away with a lot of bullion and a few indifferent stones.
-That was a year and more ago and everyone’s grown careless since
-then. I managed to plant it so the watchman was suspected. He’s in
-jail now. And then, once, I fixed up the matter so that a theft of
-some finished stuff was discovered while I was on vacation. They
-never suspected me. But this time I’m going to clean out the works,
-all the bullion, all the stones, and tomorrow’s payroll.”
-
-The unknown’s voice changed, and grew intent. Mike, in the dusty
-little closet, could hear a muted, musical tinkle, as he spun the
-combination knob.
-
-“Got your fingerprints some time ago, Jack, when you knew nothing
-about it. I brought ’em out, photographed them, and contrived to fix
-them on the ends of these rubber gloves. I’ve run ’em through my
-hair, so they’ll be slightly oily, and they’ll convict you
-completely of opening the safe. I’ll have to use a microphone,
-myself, to hear the tumblers fall.”
-
-Mike was listening with a curious mixture of fear and indignation
-and curiosity. He, himself, had a microphone apparatus in his
-pocket, which he had intended to use. The other man had beat him to
-it. Mike began to revolve a misty scheme for following the other man
-and taking his loot away. There was a clanking as of tiny bits of
-metal being fitted together.
-
-“I rather think, Jack,”–the voice became amused,–“that you’re
-thinking of the trap that’s fixed for any man who breaks into the
-safe. Aren’t you?”–A moment of silence–“So that even if someone gets
-inside the vault, when he touches one of several things he’ll set
-off a switch, have the doors swing shut and lock on him, and ring a
-loud bell in police headquarters? I suggested that, Jack, and I was
-the one who was strong for the bell. I told ’em a burglar would be
-smothered in here in two hours, but with the doors closing fast on
-him to catch him, the police could get here, let him out and save
-his life, and catch him with the goods. But you forget there’s a
-switch to run that burglar-trap on.”
-
-Mike, listening, found himself suddenly cold all over. If he had
-opened the huge vault,–as he was confident he could do,–he would
-never have thought of anything like that! He would have gone in,
-only anxious to secure his loot and depart before the watchman’s
-return. With luck, he would have been able, he thought, to get the
-big doors closed so his burglary would have gone unnoticed until
-morning. But when he went in, he would have touched one of a number
-of concealed springs. The huge doors would have swung to,
-relentlessly, upon him. He would have been trapped in an air-tight
-tomb, to batter futilely at the armor-plate barriers until the
-police came.
-
-He was to get another shock.
-
-“This afternoon, though,” said the soft voice outside, interrupted
-now and then by the infinitely faint musical sound of the spinning
-knobs, “I did a little work on that wiring. The doors will work, but
-the alarm won’t. The police will not be notified that a burglar is
-caught in the vault.”
-
-Sweat came out, cold and clammy, on Mike’s skin. He would have been
-caught in there! He would have strangled! Hunched upon the floor of
-the smelly little book-closet, he shivered in uncontrollable terror
-from sheer horror at what he had escaped. Again he longed to get
-away from the factory, at any cost.
-
-“’Most through,” said the abstracted voice, outside. “Wonder why I’m
-telling you, Jack? You see, I need the stuff in there. Need it in my
-business. I’m going to take it, but I don’t want to have detectives
-chasing around to try to find the thief. With your fingerprints on
-the knob, they’d look for you, of course, but you might have proved
-an alibi to make ’em look farther. And also, Jack, you’re too damned
-fascinating. I was getting along pretty well with Ethel, until she
-met you. I want to get you out of the way. With you dead, she’ll
-marry me, sooner or later. I’m going to tap you on the head again,
-Jack, and put you in here. The doors will close on you. In the
-morning they’ll find that you opened the vault, passed out quite a
-lot of stuff to a confederate, and then by accident touched off the
-alarm that closes the doors. A sandbag doesn’t leave any sign, and I
-used straps to tie you up so there’ll be no marks on your wrists.
-I’ve thought of pretty nearly everything, Jack. I’ve even taken out
-all the pencils and fountain pens from your pockets. I’ve no notion
-of your writing an accusation of me while you’re in there; also I
-don’t want to kill you before you go in there. I want you to show
-the signs of dying from–er–the natural cause of being locked in an
-air-tight vault.... Ah....”
-
-There was a series of tiny clicks, then a faint creaking. Mike, in
-his hiding-place, with the smell of dust and books and new-placed
-rubber insulation in his nostrils, knew that the great doors had
-swung open.
-
-There was a pause, and the little snap of a watch-case.
-
-“Watchman’s due in half an hour. Plenty of time.”
-
-The voice stopped.
-
-The man seemed to be listening. That was what Mike would have done.
-He lay utterly and completely motionless, barely breathing. He was
-queerly afraid of the man he had not seen. Perhaps because of that,
-Mike felt a sudden cramp in one of his legs, a sharp, tingling,
-shooting pain. He could not run on a leg like that. It might give
-way beneath him.
-
-“All clear,” said the voice, with a certain ghastly cheerfulness.
-“But in case you’re thinking that I might set off the trap, Jack,
-I’d like to mention that after I had you neatly trussed up, I pulled
-out the switch. It’s in that little closet back there. I shall turn
-it on after I’ve got the stuff out–and then the doors will close on
-you. But first I’ll tap you on the head, and put you inside.”
-
-Mike shivered. The smell of insulation.... The switch was in the
-closet in which he was hiding! In a little while more the unknown
-would come in where he was! Sheer panic came over Mike. It was with
-a terrific effort that he calmed himself, trying to figure out an
-escape from the inevitable struggle. The other man would open the
-door. He, Mike, was inside. At best there would be a struggle. At
-worst....
-
-
-
-
-III
-
-
-Mike’s whole body was bathed in sweat at the thought of himself
-thrown inside the vault with armor-plated doors inexorably shutting
-out every atom of fresh air. He clenched his teeth to keep them from
-chattering. The man outside took on the aspect of a monster. To
-Mike, he was something more or less than human. Mike might be a
-criminal, and could visualize,–shrinking,–the thought of killing a
-man in making a getaway, but not the deliberate strangling of a man
-in cold blood, for the covering of his tracks. That was the other
-man’s plan.
-
-There would have to be a struggle, a fight of some sort. Mike’s leg
-throbbed horribly. He doubted that it would support his weight. And
-in an instant or two more he would inevitably be fighting. One way
-or another, he was bound to be in terrible danger. If he shot the
-other man, the pistol-shot would raise an alarm. If he did not
-shoot....
-
-He heard a faint thump on the floor.
-
-“One load,” said the voice outside. “Two or three more, Jack, and
-I’ll skip.” The voice, already soft, became muffled as its owner
-went into the vault. “Here’s the payroll. Nice packet, in itself.
-I’ve a good twenty minutes left. You realize what will happen, Jack?
-I loot the vault, tap you on the head, take off your bonds and put
-you in here. Then I push on the switch, the doors close on you, and
-I get away with the stuff. In the morning they’ll find you inside,
-and the stuff gone. Your fingerprints will be on the knobs.
-Inference will inevitably be that the trap got you as you were
-handing out the stuff to a confederate. Pretty scheme, isn’t it
-Jack?”
-
-The man seemed to be gloating a little over the agony of his
-prospective victim. Mike, struggling to massage his leg into some
-semblance of life and to make no noise in doing so, heard the
-infinitely faint sound of the bound man struggling upon the floor.
-He made a curious moan, utterly despairing.
-
-“Just one more trip, Jack,” said the voice, filled with a terrifying
-amusement. “Then I’ll come back for you.”
-
-Mike’s throat was dry. He feared that man he had not seen; feared
-him with the ultimate of terror. And in a moment or two more he
-would have to fight him, struggle with him.
-
-Cold to the marrow, dry-lipped with fear, his little eyes staring,
-Mike started to raise himself to his feet as he heard the other man
-enter the vault. His leg was numb. It would barely hold his weight
-up. Mike’s teeth began to chatter. He heard the man rummaging about
-inside the steel tomb. And then Mike felt a sudden agonizing pain in
-his back. Something jabbed cruelly into his backbone, hurting
-horribly. And then, with a spitting flash of bluish light, the pain
-ceased. But outside, there was a sudden rumbling and a cushioned
-crash. Then a distant, muffled scream, barely audible.
-
-Glassy-eyed with terror, Mike flung open the door, to run. He saw a
-small electric lantern upon the floor, its beam directed at the two
-huge doors of the vault. _And they were closed!_
-
-In the fraction of an instant Mike knew what had happened. Rising,
-in the closet, he had jammed his back into the knife-switch that
-turned on the current for the burglar-trap. It had closed the doors,
-imprisoning the unknown Saunders in the air-tight vault. And he, the
-imprisoned man, had cut the wires that would have warned the police
-of his predicament.
-
-Uttering a little gasp that was compounded of horror and fear, Mike
-started forward, only to have his numbed leg give way beneath him.
-The fall sobered him to a curious, fictitious calmness. He flashed
-his lamp on the bound, still figure. Its eyes were closed. The face
-was utterly white.
-
-“Fainted,” said Mike to himself, shakily. “Safe enough, though....”
-
-He suddenly scrambled to his feet again and ran. Through the dark
-hallways and down the steps he fled. He was possessed by an
-unreasoning terror. The window through which he had entered was
-open. Evidently the other man had arranged it for his own ingress.
-Mike fairly fell outside, and suddenly was in complete possession of
-himself again. With the quiet, dark night all around him, he felt
-secure, and he abruptly became conscious that he was carrying
-something in one hand. He had picked it up when his leg gave way.
-
-He let a faint ray trickle through his fingers upon it. Then he
-grinned uncertainly. Evidently he had happened upon a portion of the
-payroll. He saw yellow backs, at any rate, with the bills in the
-bundle he held.
-
-“M-my Gawd,” said Mike, unevenly. “That was a shock. There’ve been
-shocks all around tonight. That feller in the vault.... An’ the
-feller that fainted.... Say”–a thought struck him–“wonder if he’ll
-come out of that faint in time to tell about a feller bein’ in th’
-vault. M-my Gawd! Maybe he don’t know!”
-
-He looked back through the window he had left, his breath coming
-hurriedly, uneasily. He saw a faint glow a long distance away. The
-watchman was making his rounds again. Mike saw the confident,
-assured steps of the man by the light of his lantern. His legs threw
-monstrous shadows on the walls. He went on his way unhurriedly,
-reached a time-clock and extracted a key. He inserted and turned it,
-registering his presence and vigilance upon a strip of paper inside
-the mechanism. Then, casually, he went on his way.
-
-“Brother,” Mike apostrophized the unconscious figure, “I just hadda
-shock. Two other fellers had their shocks. An’ now, ol’ top, you’re
-in for yours. Here’s hopin’.”
-
-The watchman turned a corner and was lost to sight, but his steady,
-even footsteps came dully to Mike’s ears. He was climbing the
-stairs, and he wore squeaky shoes.
-
-Mike slipped quickly and quietly away.
-
-
-[Transcriber’s Notes:
- 1. Story from the August, 1922 issue of _The Black Mask_ magazine.
- 2. Typo corrected: “loot the same” to “loot the safe” in Chapter II.
-]
-
-*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VAULT ***
-
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-<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Vault, by Murray Leinster</p>
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
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-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
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-</div>
-
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Vault</p>
- <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Murray Leinster</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: August 18, 2021 [eBook #66081]</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p>
- <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Roger Frank and Sue Clark</p>
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VAULT ***</div>
-
-<h1>THE VAULT</h1>
-<div style="text-align:center; margin-bottom:2em;">
-By Murray Leinster
-</div>
-
-<h2>I</h2>
-
-<p>The window slid up easily–too easily–and Mike waited a long time,
-listening, before he made a move. The whole huge pile of the factory was
-still. There were no lights anywhere, except that dim one by the gate
-through the stockade. Lying quite still in the darkness, Mike waited.
-There was no sound, no ringing of alarm bells, no bustle of activity
-anywhere. The manufacturing plant of the Whitney Jewelry &amp; Watch
-Company remained as it had been before, a vast, still pile of brick,
-with empty-eyed windows staring blankly at the night.</p>
-
-<p>And yet.... That window had opened very easily. Mike meditated, his
-little eyes gleaming in the darkness. Then he saw a tiny flicker of
-light in the distance. The window he had opened was at the end of a long
-corridor, and he saw the watchman walking unhurriedly away from him. The
-watchman’s legs threw monstrous shadows from the lantern he carried,
-Mike could not see his face, but he could see the uniform and note the
-absolute leisure and confidence with which the man was moving. He
-paused, as Mike watched, and inserted his key in a watchman’s clock. He
-turned it, registering his presence and vigilance on a strip of paper
-within the mechanism. Then, casually, he went on his way. In a few
-moments he turned a corner and was lost to sight.</p>
-
-<p>Mike grinned to himself in the obscurity. With monkey-like agility he
-scrambled through the open window, making no sound. Once within the
-walls of the factory he waited another long minute for a noise. Distant
-and hollow, he heard the watchman’s footfalls, unhurried, methodical, as
-he made his round.</p>
-
-<p>Then, softly, Mike lowered the window. He wore rubber-soled shoes.
-His eyes were those of a cat, and his ears were attuned to the slightest
-warning of danger, but he heard no faintest sound–not even his own
-footfalls–save the distant, regular steps of the watchman. The watchman
-wore creaky shoes.</p>
-
-<p>Like some night-flying moth the intruder slipped through the
-corridors of the untenanted factory. All about him there were smells.
-Oil–that would be the delicate lathes where precious metals were worked.
-Once he smelled fresh paint. And there was that curious odor of
-freshly-mopped floors. The scrub-women had come after the closing of the
-factory and done their work. Then he smelled faded flowers. Someone had
-brought them and put them in a glass of water, and they had been
-left.</p>
-
-<p>Mike paid little or no attention to smells. The place he sought was
-on the second floor, in the rear–the colossal vault where all the
-precious things in which the factory dealt were gathered for safety
-during the night. He made his way there, silently. Every little while he
-stopped to listen for the unvarying footfalls of the watchman. They went
-on, unsuspicious and confident.</p>
-
-<p>Through an arduous and twice interrupted apprenticeship in his chosen
-trade–interruptions spent perforce behind stone walls–Mike had had
-drilled into him just two things. One was the fatality of haste. The
-other was the necessity for scientific, painstaking attention to detail.
-Therefore, Mike let his flashlight slip over the huge surface of the
-vault door with barely a pause. He knew the watchman would look in on it
-as he went downstairs. Primarily, he was looking for a place to hide
-during that moment.</p>
-
-<p>There was a door in the room which contained the vault, but Mike was
-not certain but that the watchman would return through it. He swept his
-light around the room–keeping it low, lest it flash out through a
-window–and regretfully decided against remaining. He went out again,
-swiftly and silently, looking for a hiding-place.</p>
-
-<p>He found it in a washroom, and listened from there while the watchman
-retraced his steps, coming downstairs again, going to the vault and
-throwing the glow from his lantern against it, then clumping off heavily
-to the lower part of the factory.</p>
-
-<p>Mike emerged from hiding. He inspected the vault room with greater
-care. He would have to work in snatches, between visits from the
-watchman, and he did not want to have to tap the man on the head. There
-are a great many systems of burglar protection, and one very popular one
-signals the nearest police station when a watchman fails to ring his
-time clock at the appointed intervals. Mike did not desire the intrusion
-of the police, but he wanted a nearby niche to hide in.</p>
-
-<p>The watchman’s footsteps died away. Mike waited to be sure, then
-opened the door he had noted. To be exact, he did not quite open it. He
-merely turned the knob, and a heavy weight leaning against it thrust it
-the rest of the way open, caromed clumsily against him, and fell with a
-curiously cushioned crash to the floor.</p>
-
-<p>Mike’s hair stood on end. In the fractional part of a split second he
-knew what had struck him, and he bounced into the air to alight
-noiselessly a full five feet away, ready for anything. But the thing lay
-still upon the floor, breathing.</p>
-
-<p>Slowly and cautiously Mike sent a momentary dart of light at it. What
-he saw at once reassured him and frightened him, because it was the last
-thing he could possibly have expected. It was a man–which he had
-known–but it was a man with his hands and feet bound together with
-leather straps, and so entwined with ropes that he could not even
-writhe. There was a gag in the figure’s mouth, and its eyes were staring
-wildly about.</p>
-
-<p>Mike was still for perhaps two seconds, while his brain raced. Then
-he sent a tiny pencil-beam at the vault door. It was closed, solidly. No
-one had been before him. But there was a man bound hand and foot....</p>
-
-<p>The light played upon him again. He was a young man, dressed as if he
-were a clerk or a bookkeeper in the factory. His eyes blinked and stared
-imploringly at Mike. There was some message, some terrible message, that
-he struggled to convey, but the gag prevented him. Mike watched him for
-an instant in mounting uneasiness and suspicion. That window had slipped
-up too easily....</p>
-
-<p>Suddenly there was a tiny creaking, as of a board stepped upon. Mike
-heard it, catalogued it and had dismissed his obvious refuge in an
-instant. Someone was coming, softly, toward the spot. Perhaps the
-watchman, alarmed by the crash. He would certainly find the bound man,
-but it might be that he would waste precious time releasing him.</p>
-
-<p>Tensely Mike swept the walls again. He could not go out the main
-door. He would run into the watchman. The one door he had noted was that
-of a closet. There was another, close beside the back of the vault.</p>
-
-<p>Dense blackness fell. A shadow but little deeper than the darkness
-about him, Mike flitted across the room. He vanished, utterly without
-sound.</p>
-
-<p>Then a faint scratching sound. The bound man was struggling to
-release himself, struggling with a terrible desperation and a horrifying
-futility. Mike, crouched down in a tiny book-closet, heard it. He was
-keyed up to an incredible pitch, every nerve quivering like a
-tightly-strung wire. Mike was no longer intent upon robbery. One of the
-first rules of your old-time safe-cracker is to go through with a job
-only when everything is right. Mike was as suspicious of the unexpected
-as any wild animal. Just now his only desire was to get away–peacefully,
-if possible, but to get away.</p>
-
-<p>He lay still. The scent of books and dust came to his nostrils, but
-he did not dare make a light to see. He smelled, too, that curious,
-rubbery smell of new electric insulation. There were wires in the closet
-somewhere, newly placed. Mike lay still.</p>
-
-<p>Then he felt, rather than heard, someone enter the vault-room. There
-was a door between him and the newcomer, but he knew the instant that
-the other man entered. There was a moment of silence. Mike saw an
-infinitely faint glow through the keyhole. Someone was using a
-flash.</p>
-
-<h2>II</h2>
-
-<p>Frozen in utter stillness, Mike listened for the watchman’s
-exclamation of astonishment at sight of the bound man on the floor.
-Instead, he heard only a faint murmur. Then he caught words, faintly
-amused.</p>
-
-<p>“Just got out, Jack, eh? I heard you fall. Out of luck, though. The
-watchman was in the other building. I saw him go in. He didn’t hear
-you.”</p>
-
-<p>Then little noises as if the helpless man were being turned
-over–inspected to make sure the bonds were firmly in place. Then Mike
-felt that the last-come man was somewhat relieved.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t know how you got loose, Jack,” said the voice, as before kept
-lowered, “but you didn’t do any harm, anyhow. And the watchman won’t be
-back for an hour yet. I’ll be getting to work.”</p>
-
-<p>There was a sound like a groan, as if the bound man were trying to
-make some sound or plea; but footsteps crossed lightly to the vault.</p>
-
-<p>“Wondering, Jack, who I am, or did you recognize me?” The second man
-had stopped before the vault door. Mike heard an infinitely faint
-rustling, as of thin rubber being manipulated. He guessed at rubber
-gloves. “I think you must’ve recognized me when I slugged you. Anyway,
-since I asked you to wait a minute after office hours and then hit you
-with a sandbag, you must have guessed, while you’ve been waiting, that I
-was responsible for the matter.”</p>
-
-<p>There was a little pause and a slight snapping sound, as if an
-elastic had been flicked into place.</p>
-
-<p>“Yep, Jack, I’m Saunders, your boss. Don’t mind telling you, now,
-because you’re not going to split on me. I’m going to loot the
-safe–clean, this time, and quit. By the way, Jack, I’m putting on rubber
-gloves, but, rather curiously, they’ll leave your fingerprints on the
-safe knob. You see, I’ve done this twice before. Once I got away with a
-lot of bullion and a few indifferent stones. That was a year and more
-ago and everyone’s grown careless since then. I managed to plant it so
-the watchman was suspected. He’s in jail now. And then, once, I fixed up
-the matter so that a theft of some finished stuff was discovered while I
-was on vacation. They never suspected me. But this time I’m going to
-clean out the works, all the bullion, all the stones, and tomorrow’s
-payroll.”</p>
-
-<p>The unknown’s voice changed, and grew intent. Mike, in the dusty
-little closet, could hear a muted, musical tinkle, as he spun the
-combination knob.</p>
-
-<p>“Got your fingerprints some time ago, Jack, when you knew nothing
-about it. I brought ’em out, photographed them, and contrived to fix
-them on the ends of these rubber gloves. I’ve run ’em through my hair,
-so they’ll be slightly oily, and they’ll convict you completely of
-opening the safe. I’ll have to use a microphone, myself, to hear the
-tumblers fall.”</p>
-
-<p>Mike was listening with a curious mixture of fear and indignation and
-curiosity. He, himself, had a microphone apparatus in his pocket, which
-he had intended to use. The other man had beat him to it. Mike began to
-revolve a misty scheme for following the other man and taking his loot
-away. There was a clanking as of tiny bits of metal being fitted
-together.</p>
-
-<p>“I rather think, Jack,”–the voice became amused,–“that you’re
-thinking of the trap that’s fixed for any man who breaks into the safe.
-Aren’t you?”–A moment of silence–“So that even if someone gets inside
-the vault, when he touches one of several things he’ll set off a switch,
-have the doors swing shut and lock on him, and ring a loud bell in
-police headquarters? I suggested that, Jack, and I was the one who was
-strong for the bell. I told ’em a burglar would be smothered in here in
-two hours, but with the doors closing fast on him to catch him, the
-police could get here, let him out and save his life, and catch him with
-the goods. But you forget there’s a switch to run that burglar-trap
-on.”</p>
-
-<p>Mike, listening, found himself suddenly cold all over. If he had
-opened the huge vault,–as he was confident he could do,–he would never
-have thought of anything like that! He would have gone in, only anxious
-to secure his loot and depart before the watchman’s return. With luck,
-he would have been able, he thought, to get the big doors closed so his
-burglary would have gone unnoticed until morning. But when he went in,
-he would have touched one of a number of concealed springs. The huge
-doors would have swung to, relentlessly, upon him. He would have been
-trapped in an air-tight tomb, to batter futilely at the armor-plate
-barriers until the police came.</p>
-
-<p>He was to get another shock.</p>
-
-<p>“This afternoon, though,” said the soft voice outside, interrupted
-now and then by the infinitely faint musical sound of the spinning
-knobs, “I did a little work on that wiring. The doors will work, but the
-alarm won’t. The police will not be notified that a burglar is caught in
-the vault.”</p>
-
-<p>Sweat came out, cold and clammy, on Mike’s skin. He would have been
-caught in there! He would have strangled! Hunched upon the floor of the
-smelly little book-closet, he shivered in uncontrollable terror from
-sheer horror at what he had escaped. Again he longed to get away from
-the factory, at any cost.</p>
-
-<p>“’Most through,” said the abstracted voice, outside. “Wonder why I’m
-telling you, Jack? You see, I need the stuff in there. Need it in my
-business. I’m going to take it, but I don’t want to have detectives
-chasing around to try to find the thief. With your fingerprints on the
-knob, they’d look for you, of course, but you might have proved an alibi
-to make ’em look farther. And also, Jack, you’re too damned fascinating.
-I was getting along pretty well with Ethel, until she met you. I want to
-get you out of the way. With you dead, she’ll marry me, sooner or later.
-I’m going to tap you on the head again, Jack, and put you in here. The
-doors will close on you. In the morning they’ll find that you opened the
-vault, passed out quite a lot of stuff to a confederate, and then by
-accident touched off the alarm that closes the doors. A sandbag doesn’t
-leave any sign, and I used straps to tie you up so there’ll be no marks
-on your wrists. I’ve thought of pretty nearly everything, Jack. I’ve
-even taken out all the pencils and fountain pens from your pockets. I’ve
-no notion of your writing an accusation of me while you’re in there;
-also I don’t want to kill you before you go in there. I want you to show
-the signs of dying from–er–the natural cause of being locked in an
-air-tight vault.... Ah....”</p>
-
-<p>There was a series of tiny clicks, then a faint creaking. Mike, in
-his hiding-place, with the smell of dust and books and new-placed rubber
-insulation in his nostrils, knew that the great doors had swung
-open.</p>
-
-<p>There was a pause, and the little snap of a watch-case.</p>
-
-<p>“Watchman’s due in half an hour. Plenty of time.”</p>
-
-<p>The voice stopped.</p>
-
-<p>The man seemed to be listening. That was what Mike would have done.
-He lay utterly and completely motionless, barely breathing. He was
-queerly afraid of the man he had not seen. Perhaps because of that, Mike
-felt a sudden cramp in one of his legs, a sharp, tingling, shooting
-pain. He could not run on a leg like that. It might give way beneath
-him.</p>
-
-<p>“All clear,” said the voice, with a certain ghastly cheerfulness.
-“But in case you’re thinking that I might set off the trap, Jack, I’d
-like to mention that after I had you neatly trussed up, I pulled out the
-switch. It’s in that little closet back there. I shall turn it on after
-I’ve got the stuff out–and then the doors will close on you. But first
-I’ll tap you on the head, and put you inside.”</p>
-
-<p>Mike shivered. The smell of insulation.... The switch was in the closet
-in which he was hiding! In a little while more the unknown would come in
-where he was! Sheer panic came over Mike. It was with a terrific effort
-that he calmed himself, trying to figure out an escape from the
-inevitable struggle. The other man would open the door. He, Mike, was
-inside. At best there would be a struggle. At worst....</p>
-
-<h2>III</h2>
-
-<p>Mike’s whole body was bathed in sweat at the thought of himself
-thrown inside the vault with armor-plated doors inexorably shutting out
-every atom of fresh air. He clenched his teeth to keep them from
-chattering. The man outside took on the aspect of a monster. To Mike, he
-was something more or less than human. Mike might be a criminal, and
-could visualize,–shrinking,–the thought of killing a man in making a
-getaway, but not the deliberate strangling of a man in cold blood, for
-the covering of his tracks. That was the other man’s plan.</p>
-
-<p>There would have to be a struggle, a fight of some sort. Mike’s leg
-throbbed horribly. He doubted that it would support his weight. And in
-an instant or two more he would inevitably be fighting. One way or
-another, he was bound to be in terrible danger. If he shot the other
-man, the pistol-shot would raise an alarm. If he did not shoot....</p>
-
-<p>He heard a faint thump on the floor.</p>
-
-<p>“One load,” said the voice outside. “Two or three more, Jack, and
-I’ll skip.” The voice, already soft, became muffled as its owner went
-into the vault. “Here’s the payroll. Nice packet, in itself. I’ve a good
-twenty minutes left. You realize what will happen, Jack? I loot the
-vault, tap you on the head, take off your bonds and put you in here.
-Then I push on the switch, the doors close on you, and I get away with
-the stuff. In the morning they’ll find you inside, and the stuff gone.
-Your fingerprints will be on the knobs. Inference will inevitably be
-that the trap got you as you were handing out the stuff to a
-confederate. Pretty scheme, isn’t it Jack?”</p>
-
-<p>The man seemed to be gloating a little over the agony of his
-prospective victim. Mike, struggling to massage his leg into some
-semblance of life and to make no noise in doing so, heard the infinitely
-faint sound of the bound man struggling upon the floor. He made a
-curious moan, utterly despairing.</p>
-
-<p>“Just one more trip, Jack,” said the voice, filled with a terrifying
-amusement. “Then I’ll come back for you.”</p>
-
-<p>Mike’s throat was dry. He feared that man he had not seen; feared him
-with the ultimate of terror. And in a moment or two more he would have
-to fight him, struggle with him.</p>
-
-<p>Cold to the marrow, dry-lipped with fear, his little eyes staring,
-Mike started to raise himself to his feet as he heard the other man
-enter the vault. His leg was numb. It would barely hold his weight up.
-Mike’s teeth began to chatter. He heard the man rummaging about inside
-the steel tomb. And then Mike felt a sudden agonizing pain in his back.
-Something jabbed cruelly into his backbone, hurting horribly. And then,
-with a spitting flash of bluish light, the pain ceased. But outside,
-there was a sudden rumbling and a cushioned crash. Then a distant,
-muffled scream, barely audible.</p>
-
-<p>Glassy-eyed with terror, Mike flung open the door, to run. He saw a
-small electric lantern upon the floor, its beam directed at the two huge
-doors of the vault. <em>And they were closed!</em></p>
-
-<p>In the fraction of an instant Mike knew what had happened. Rising, in
-the closet, he had jammed his back into the knife-switch that turned on
-the current for the burglar-trap. It had closed the doors, imprisoning
-the unknown Saunders in the air-tight vault. And he, the imprisoned man,
-had cut the wires that would have warned the police of his
-predicament.</p>
-
-<p>Uttering a little gasp that was compounded of horror and fear, Mike
-started forward, only to have his numbed leg give way beneath him. The
-fall sobered him to a curious, fictitious calmness. He flashed his lamp
-on the bound, still figure. Its eyes were closed. The face was utterly
-white.</p>
-
-<p>“Fainted,” said Mike to himself, shakily. “Safe enough, though....”</p>
-
-<p>He suddenly scrambled to his feet again and ran. Through the dark
-hallways and down the steps he fled. He was possessed by an unreasoning
-terror. The window through which he had entered was open. Evidently the
-other man had arranged it for his own ingress. Mike fairly fell outside,
-and suddenly was in complete possession of himself again. With the
-quiet, dark night all around him, he felt secure, and he abruptly became
-conscious that he was carrying something in one hand. He had picked it
-up when his leg gave way.</p>
-
-<p>He let a faint ray trickle through his fingers upon it. Then he
-grinned uncertainly. Evidently he had happened upon a portion of the
-payroll. He saw yellow backs, at any rate, with the bills in the bundle
-he held.</p>
-
-<p>“M-my Gawd,” said Mike, unevenly. “That was a shock. There’ve been
-shocks all around tonight. That feller in the vault.... An’ the feller
-that fainted.... Say”–a thought struck him–“wonder if he’ll come out of
-that faint in time to tell about a feller bein’ in th’ vault. M-my Gawd!
-Maybe he don’t know!”</p>
-
-<p>He looked back through the window he had left, his breath coming
-hurriedly, uneasily. He saw a faint glow a long distance away. The
-watchman was making his rounds again. Mike saw the confident, assured
-steps of the man by the light of his lantern. His legs threw monstrous
-shadows on the walls. He went on his way unhurriedly, reached a
-time-clock and extracted a key. He inserted and turned it, registering
-his presence and vigilance upon a strip of paper inside the mechanism.
-Then, casually, he went on his way.</p>
-
-<p>“Brother,” Mike apostrophized the unconscious figure, “I just hadda
-shock. Two other fellers had their shocks. An’ now, ol’ top, you’re in
-for yours. Here’s hopin’.”</p>
-
-<p>The watchman turned a corner and was lost to sight, but his steady,
-even footsteps came dully to Mike’s ears. He was climbing the stairs,
-and he wore squeaky shoes.</p>
-
-<p>Mike slipped quickly and quietly away.</p>
-
-<div class='tn'>
-Transcriber’s Notes:
-<ol style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
-<li>This story appeared in the August, 1922 issue of <em>The Black Mask</em> magazine.</li>
-<li>Typo corrected: “loot the same” to “loot the safe” in Chapter II.</li>
-</ol>
-</div>
-
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