THE fellow towered head and shoulders over Don, and almost that over me. He stared down at us, his jaw dropping with surprise. My heart was pounding; to me there was no doubt about it now; this heavy-featured handsome, but evil face was the face of the apparition at whom Don had fired as it hung in the air over the Fort Beach path. But this was a man. His arm, as I clutched it, was muscularly solid beneath the sleeve of his flannel jacket.

“I say,” Don panted. “Just a minute.”

With a sweep of his arms the stranger angrily flung off our hold.

“What do you want?”

I saw, within twenty feet of us, a policeman standing in the street intersection.

“I beg your pardon,” Don stammered. We had had no time to plan anything. I put in:

“We thought you were a friend of ours. This night—so much excitement—let’s get back to the curb.”

We drew the man to the sidewalk as a physician’s little automobile with two soldiers in it waded its way slowly through the crowd.

The man laughed. “It is an exciting night. I never have seen Bermuda like this before.”

Swift impressions flooded me. The fellow surely must recognize us as we did him. He was pretending friendliness. I noticed that though he seemed not over forty, his close-clipped hair beneath the white linen cap was silver white. His face had a strange pallor, not the pallor of ill health, but seemingly a natural lack of color. And his voice, speaking good English, nevertheless marked him for a foreigner—though of what nation certainly I could not say.

“We’re mistaken,” said Don. “But you look like someone we know.”

“Do I, indeed? That is interesting.”

“Only you’re taller,” I said. “You’re not a Bermudian, are you?”

His eyes, beneath the heavy black brows shot me a look. “No. I am a stranger; a visitor. My name——”

HE hesitated briefly; then he smiled with what seemed an amused irony. “My name is Tako. Robert Tako. I am living at the Hamiltonia Hotel. Does that satisfy you?”

I could think of nothing to say. Nor could Don. The fellow added, “Bermuda is like a little ship. I understand your inquisitiveness—one must know everyone else. And who are you?”

Don told him.

“Ah, yes,” he smiled. “And so you are a native Bermudian?”

“Yes.”

“And you,” he said to me, “you are American?”

“From New York, yes.”

“That is more interesting. Never have I known an American. You are familiar with New York City?”

“Of course. I was born there.”

His contemplative gaze made me shiver. I wondered what Don was planning as an outcome to this. The fellow seemed wholly at ease now. He was lounging against the drug store window with us before him. My eyes were level with the negligee collar of his blue linen shirt, and abruptly I was galvanized into alertness. Just above the soft collar where his movements had crushed it down I saw unmistakably the loop of a tiny black thread of wire projecting upward! Conclusive proof! This was one of the mysterious enemies! One of the apparitions which had thrown all Bermuda into a turmoil stood materialized here before us.

I think that Don had already seen the wire. The fellow was saying nonchalantly,

“And you, Mr. Livingston—are you also familiar with New York City?”

“Yes,” said Don. He had gone pale and tight-lipped. I caught his warning glance to me. “Yes,” he repeated. “I lived there several years.”

“I would like to know you two better. Much better—but not tonight.”

He moved as though to take his leave of us. Then he added to Don, “That most beautiful young lady with you in the restaurant—did I not see you there? Is that your sister?”

Don made his decision. He said abruptly, “That’s none of your business.”

It took the fellow wholly by surprise. “But listen—”

“I’ve had enough of your insolence,” Don shouted.

The man’s hand made an instinctive movement toward his belt, but I seized his wrist. And I added my loud voice to Don’s. “No, you don’t!”

A GROUP of onlookers was at once collecting around us. The giant tried to cast me off, but I clung to him with all my strength. And suddenly we were struggling to keep the fellow from breaking away from us. He muttered a strange-sounding oath.

“Let me go! You fools!”

“Not such fools,” Don shouted. “Officer! I say—officer!”

Don’s revolver was in his hand; people were pressing around us, but when they saw the revolver they began scattering. The giant made a lunge and broke away from us, heedless that Don might have shot him.

“What’s all this? I say, you three, what are you up to?”

The policeman came on a run. A group of soldiers passing on bicycles, flung the machines aside and came dashing at us. The giant stood suddenly docile.

“Officer, these young men attacked me.”

“He’s a liar!” Don shouted. “Watch him! He might be armed—don’t let him get away from you!”

The law surrounded us. “Here’s my weapon,” said Don. “Bob, give up your revolver.”

In the turmoil Don plucked the policeman aside.

“I’m nephew of the Honorable Arthur Dorrance. Take us to your chief. I made that uproar to catch that big fellow.”

The name of the Honorable Arthur Dorrance was magic. The policeman stared at our giant captive who now was surrounded by the soldiers.

“But I say—”

“Take us all in and send for Mr. Dorrance. He’s at the Government House.”

“But I say—That big blighter—”

“We think he’s one of the ghosts!” Don whispered.

“Oh, my Gawd!”

With the crowd following us we were hurried away to the police station nearby.

THE sergeant said, “The Chief will be here in a few minutes. And we’ve sent for Mr. Dorrance.”

“Good enough, Brown.” It chanced that Don knew this sergeant very well. “Did you search the fellow?”

“Yes. No weapon in his clothes.”

I whispered, “I saw a wire under his collar.”

“Sh! No use telling that now, Bob.”

I realized it. These policemen were frightened enough at our captive. Don added, “Before my uncle and the Chief arrive, let me have a talk with that fellow, will you?”

They had locked him up; and in the excitement of our arrival at the station both Don and I had completely forgotten the wire we had seen at his collar. But we remembered it now, and the same thought occurred to both of us. We had locked up this mysterious enemy, but would the prison bars hold him?

“Good Lord!” Don exclaimed. “Bob, those wires—Sergeant, we shouldn’t have left that fellow alone! Is he alone! Come on!”

With the frightened mystified sergeant leading us we dashed along the little white corridor to the windowless cell in which the giant was confined. At the cell-door a group of soldiers lounged in the corridor.

“Smooth talker, that fellow.”

“Gor blime me, who is he?”

We arrived with a rush. “Is he in there?” Don shouted. “Open the door, you fellows! See here, you watch him—we’ve got to get his clothes off. He’s got some mechanism—wires and things underneath his clothes!”

“Get out of the way!” ordered the sergeant. “I’ll open it!”

There was silence from behind the door. The prisoner had been in the cell no more than a minute or two.

WE burst open the door. The cell was dimly illumined. The figure of the giant stood backed in its further corner. But at the sight of him we all stood transfixed with horror. His shoes, trousers, shirt, jacket and cap lay in a little pile at his feet. He stood revealed in the short tight-fitting silvery garments. The wires were looped about his arms and legs and he had pulled a mesh of them over his head in lieu of a helmet.

He stood regarding us sardonically. And in that instant while we were stricken with the shock of it, I saw that the figure was fading. It was a solid human form no longer! A silvery cast had come upon it. Another second passed; it was visibly growing tenuous, wraithlike! It was melting while we stared at it, until in that breathless instant I realized that the wall behind it was showing through.

A wraith! An apparition! The vision of a ghost standing there, leering at us!

The soldiers had retreated back into the corridor behind us. The sergeant gripped me, and his other hand, wavering with fright, clutched a revolver.

“But it’s—it’s going!”

Don gasped, “Too late! Sergeant, give me that gun!”

“Wait!” I shouted. “Don’t shoot at it!”

The shimmering glowing white figure was slowly moving downward as though floating through the cell-floor. Its own invisible surface was evidently not here but lower down, and it was beginning to drop. I don’t know what frenzied courage—if courage it could be called—was inspiring me. I was wholly confused, but nevertheless I struck Don and the sergeant aside and rushed at the thing.

IT was a sensation most horrible. From the waist up it was still above the floor of the cell. My wildly flailing arms went through the chest! But I felt nothing. It was not even like waving aside a mist. There was nothing. I saw my solid fist plunge through the leering ghostly face. I fought wildly, with a panic upon me, against the glowing phosphorescent nothingness of the apparition. My feet were stamping on its chest and shoulders. Then, as it sank lower, only the grinning face was down there.

Panting, and with the cold sweat of horror upon me, I felt Don shoving me aside.

“Too late!”

And then the sergeant’s shot rang out. The bullet clattered against the solid stone floor of the cell. The acrid smoke of the powder rolled over us; and cleared in a moment to show us the apparition several feet below the floor level. It seemed to strike its solidity of ground. I saw it fall the last little distance with a rush; land, and pick itself up. And with a last sardonic grin upward at us, the dim white figure ran. Dwindling smaller, dimmer, until in a moment it was gone into the Unknown.

As though a light had struck upon me came the realization.

“Don, this is rational, this thing! Some strange science!”

All day we had been vaguely realizing it. Intangible, but rational enemies were stealing white girls of Bermuda. Invaders from another planet? We had thought it might be that. Certainly it was nothing supernatural. These was not ghosts.

But now came a new realization. “Don! That’s another world down there! Another realm! The fourth dimension—that’s what it is! These things everybody’s calling ghosts—it’s the fourth dimension, Don! People of the fourth dimension coming out to attack us!”

And already the real menace had come! At that moment, half a mile away across the harbor on the slope of the little hill in Paget, an army of the White Invaders suddenly materialized, with dull, phosphorescent-green light-beams flashing around the countryside, melting trees and vegetation and people into nothingness!

The attack upon Bermuda had begun!