A beautiful day it was, this 19th of June, A.D. 2000; to be sure, the sun was sending down its rays with a trifle more heat than was agreeable, but all things considered, it was one of those lovely days which one sees, in the month of June, in Washington.

The heads of the various departments had not yet left the city for their summer vacations in the country, but were hard pressed by the business required of them by Congress; for that body was still in session, as the national legislature did not end its work until the first of July.

In the Treasury building, Treasury Square, all was bustle and activity, and clerks and messengers were flying in every direction.

At his desk in the sumptuous office provided for him, sat Mr. Brett, the Treasurer of the United States; while near him, quietly smoking a cigar, sat Mr. Peck, the first assistant to the Treasurer.

They were quietly discussing matters pertaining to their department, and evidently had plenty of time on their hands.

It was 14:10 by the large dial on the wall, and near the time when the Secretary of the Treasury would ask for the final papers for signature for the day. A huge stack lay upon the table awaiting this call, and the two chiefs were only remaining to send them to him.

As the hands of the dial marked 14:15, a sharp knock was made upon the door, and immediately after, Mr. Lane, the second assistant, entered the room accompanied by Mr. Howell, a subordinate officer in the Treasury Department.

“Well, Mr. Lane, what is it? Have you any more business?” asked the Treasurer, looking up.

“Yes, sir,” answered that gentleman, with apparent excitement. “Yes, sir; I have some papers here which I think may be of very great importance. As Mr. Howell was going through the old store-room containing the records at the close of the administration of 1908, he found this bundle, marked as you will see by looking at it. Deeming it my duty, sir, to at once acquaint you with the fact, I have brought it here.” Saying which, he handed the Treasurer a small package of papers, bearing upon the brief-side this indorsement:

The Treasurer took the paper in an unconcerned manner and glanced over the brief. Looking over his glasses, he said:

“Well, Mr. Howell, I see nothing about these papers that requires my attention. Undoubtedly they have been long ago acted upon by the proper authorities,” and he handed them toward that gentleman.

“But the inside, sir,” quickly returned Howell. “I must admit I read it, and so found out that it was of importance, even at this late day. It contains an account of a safe to be opened in 1988, and which has been deposited in the vaults since 1888. Now, if such a safe had been opened in this department in 1988, or since, I would have known it; for, as you know, sir, I have been here over fifteen years. I think, sir, that this communication has been mislaid long before the time set for opening the safe, if, indeed, any such article is in the vaults, and that it might require investigation.”

Mr. Brett seemed a little more interested in the matter, as he again turned the document over in his hand; then opening it, he read its contents.

In silence his subordinates watched him, and noticed an increasing excitement in his manner as he progressed.

This was the letter which Cobb had written and sent with the safe, and of which he had spoken to Craft and Hathaway.

Having read the main document, the Treasurer returned to the briefs and saw that it had been transmitted by five Secretaries, as their indorsements were upon it; but after the year 1904 no more indorsements were made, and it was apparent that the paper had been mislaid since then. Handing the bundle to Mr. Peck, the Treasurer said:

“That is a most curious document, I must say. Can you make anything out of it?”

The latter perused it carefully, and also looked at its indorsements.

“If such a safe is now in the vaults,” he answered, returning the communication, “it should be looked after at once, for the time has long since passed when it should have been opened. Perhaps you did not notice that the last indorsement says that the safe was deposited in the certificate vaults on January 7, 1904, by Treasurer Chamberlin. I think it would be well to look into this matter; and if you wish it, I will at once attend to searching that vault.”

“I quite agree with you, Mr. Peck, that we ought not to let this matter drop without at least trying to discover if the safe mentioned in the paper is now in this department. I wish you would take the matter in hand and thoroughly search the old vaults, especially the one mentioned as containing the safe on January 7, 1904. Notify me if your labors are rewarded by success. Good morning,” and the Treasurer bowed to Mr. Peck as the latter left the office. In passing out, Peck motioned to Mr. Howell to follow him.

The vaults of the Treasury were cut up into many small and minor vaults. Some had been used for the storage of old documents of the department which had no further value than that, by law, they could not be destroyed. One series of these latter were the certificate vaults containing the stacks of fraudulent certificates used by the Chinese, in the latter part of the nineteenth century, to gain admission into the country, and in one of which the safe was supposed to have been deposited.

An investigation was at once made by Peck and Howell in these vaults, and resulted in complete success; for, hidden behind huge piles of papers and boxes of documents, was found the small safe taken to Washington in 1888, by Hugh Craft.

It had taken several hours for the two men, with the aid of a couple of janitors, to unearth, or rather unpaper, the iron box; but it was there, nevertheless, and they read the legend painted upon it with many expressions of wonder.

At 10:30 the next morning, when the Treasurer came to his desk, they reported the result of their search, and informed him that they had gotten the safe out into the main corridor of the vault, awaiting his orders.

Mr. Brett immediately accompanied Peck down to the vaults, and saw for himself the safe. He read the legend upon it, and could not conceal his astonishment: the letter was genuine, and the safe was there.

The contents of that iron box had been placed in it over one hundred and thirteen years ago! What were the secrets it contained? Why was it sent to the Treasurer of the United States, with instructions not to be opened before a hundred years had passed? Why was it not opened at the proper time?

All these thoughts quickly passed through the Treasurer’s mind.

Carefully noting the inscription upon the door of the safe, he informed Mr. Peck that he would at once communicate with the President upon the subject. He then went back to his office.

At 11:15 that morning the President was informed that the Treasurer of the United States had most important business with him, and desired an immediate audience; it was granted him. The President was sitting in his private office, in the executive mansion, and received the Treasurer with a kind smile of welcome as he entered.

Mr. Brett immediately communicated the purport of his mission, and handed the President the letter which had been found.

Mr. Craft, the President, seemed greatly surprised at the communication, and taking the letter, read it carefully—both it and its indorsements.

“Delivered by Hugh Craft, of the army,” he read, to himself; then aloud:

“Why, a namesake of mine! I have had relatives in the army for many years; I wonder if this man could have been one of my ancestors?”

Taking down a large volume from an upper shelf of his book-case, he quickly turned the pages under the date of 1888. “Yes; yes, it is here,” and he followed on for several pages more; then, referring back, read:

“‘Hugh Craft, Second Lieutenant, First Artillery, July 1, 1886; First Lieutenant, September 15, 1891; Captain, October 6, 1906; Major, October 14, 1916; killed at the battle of Ottawa, August 5, 1917. Married Augustine Phelps, May 28, 1890. Children: Edward, born September 12, 1891; Harry, born May 4, 1894; Mabel, born December 11, 1906.’” Then, turning over the pages, he continued:

“‘Edward married in 1916 and died December 22, 1937, leaving three sons; one of whom, Arthur, married in 1940. Arthur died in 1981, leaving one son, Emory D., born June 19, 1941.’ And that man is myself. It is most strange that I should at this late day receive a communication signed by my great-grandfather. Whatever the contents of this safe may be, they are in some manner connected with me, and I am most anxious to at once unravel the mystery.”

Rising from his chair, he touched an electric bell, and upon its being answered by an orderly in the uniform of the President’s guards, sent a summons to his Cabinet to immediately meet him at the Treasury building; he then called for his wraps and signified his intention of at once proceeding with Mr. Brett to the Treasury and opening the safe.

In about an hour afterwards there were gathered in the office of the Treasurer the President and all the members of his Cabinet, and Mr. Brett, the Treasurer. The gentlemen, upon request of the President, then proceeded to where the safe had been drawn out into the corridor.

There it stood, apparently in as good condition as when first sent to the Treasury, save a slight discoloration caused by time. The legend was still plain, and the party surveyed it with much curiosity. The combination of the lock, of course, was unknown to any of them, and the key-hole was of no use, as none had a key to fit it. The services of a couple of machinists were soon procured, and the outer door quickly yielded to their efforts, and was torn from its hinges, exposing a large plate-glass door, behind which were plainly seen several articles.

Breaking open this door, for it was cemented around its edges, the contents of the safe were soon in the possession of the President.

First was a bundle of papers, then some newspapers of 1887, and finally three photographs in well preserved condition, though brown with age.

The bundle of papers was first examined. They gave the whole secret of Cobb’s intention of undergoing the ordeal of the cataleptic state, together with all that which had taken place up to the evening of December 1st, 1887, as well as what would follow on that night, and complete directions as to what was necessary to be done to again bring him to life should he not gain his natural state by the means he had prepared. Full mention, with the names of Craft and Hathaway, was made of their share in the work, and the photographs were of himself and his two friends. His leave of absence, also, was among the papers, and proved, by its signatures, its genuineness.

Upon intimation from the President, the whole party repaired to the office of the Secretary of War, where the papers were carefully read, and a deliberate consideration of the matter undertaken.

The records of the War Department for the years 1887 to 1950 were then sent for, and the record of Cobb and the other two found.

Opposite Craft’s name was the entry, “Killed at the battle of Ottawa, August 5, 1917;” after Hathaway’s name, “Died of wounds received at Bovispe Hacienda, Mexico, March 17, 1915;” while after Cobb’s name were the words, “Dropped from the rolls of the army as a deserter, to date from December 1, 1904, under the provisions of section 1229 of the Revised Statutes, no report having been received from him since December 1, 1887.”

All those present read the instructions contained in the bundle of papers; all saw the photographs, and all read portions of the newspapers which were found in the safe. The signatures of both Craft and Cobb were carefully compared with those which were made in the old signature papers attached to the record-book, and found to correspond exactly.

All present agreed that everything was perfectly genuine, and that the articles had been placed in the safe about the time specified.

“This is a very remarkable affair, gentlemen!” finally exclaimed the President, after again looking over the documents. “This paper directs that the place of entombment be opened by the first of January, 1988, or as soon thereafter as possible. It is now the 20th of June, A.D. 2000; quite a long time after that set by Mr. Cobb for giving him assistance is it not? If he has done what he says he has, in my opinion, the man is long since dead. The mislaying of the first document was a culpable act on the part of the administration of 1908; but it is our duty to remedy it, if possible. I know of nothing to do but to send at once to California and open the statue spoken of in this letter. If the man is dead, we may at least learn something more of his strange undertaking. I feel a personal interest, aside from that of my office, in this matter; for it appears that my great-grandfather was an accessory to this man’s foolish venture, and I would do all in my power to repair his wrong-doing. Mr. Miles, I desire that you take measures at once to solve this mystery and, if possible, render some aid to the man Cobb, if, indeed, it be not too late.”

The Secretary of State answered that everything would be done that was possible, and that men would that afternoon leave on the Central Pneumatic for California. He arose, bowed to those present, and retired.

At 16:30 that afternoon, two men, with grips and coats, left Washington on the Central Pneumatic for California.

The distance was a little over 3,600 miles, and the party arrived at its destination at 11:25 the next day.

An immediate call was made upon the mayor and council of the city, and the purport of their mission disclosed. Full arrangements were soon made for going to the Statue of Liberty, which still occupied Mt. Olympus, and was apparently in as good condition as when placed there in 1887, and ascertaining if the disclosures contained in the safe were true or not.

San Francisco had grown so much that the statue no longer occupied an isolated position on the outskirts, but was entirely surrounded by large and beautiful dwellings, and that part of the city was now densely populated.

As it would not be well to have the mission of the party known while working into the base of the pedestal, it was decided that no entry should be attempted before the following midnight. The two gentlemen, having taken dinner, proceeded with their arrangements, and soon had procured the services of four strong men to open the supposed chamber.

As the dial struck the hour of twenty-two that evening, two hacks passed quickly up Haight street, and thence to the foot of Mt. Olympus, which, though surrounded by residences, was yet bare upon its top. Leaving the carriage in two parties, the occupants cautiously proceeded to the statue.

It was a quiet night, and in that part of the city few persons were about, and none in the vicinity of the top of the hill. The moon was in its first quarter, shedding very little light, and in consequence dark-lanterns had been provided.

Albert Rawolle, the chief of the party which had left Washington, and who had charge of all the preparations, was a cool and quiet man, and well fitted to superintend such a piece of work. Stationing two of his men in position to guard against surprise, he commenced operations on the north-east corner of the base. He had made a careful survey of the whole structure, but could find no signs of an entrance, so had selected that corner as affording an easier task for his men.

At 23:55 the work was commenced, and the picks were driven into the hard joints with quickness and dispatch, soon making a large breach in the wall. At 1:25 one of the men drove his bar through the side, piercing the wall into the chamber. Quickly enlarging the opening, bull’s-eye lanterns were held to the hole, and the interior was bared to view.

As their eyes gradually became accustomed to the gloom, all the contents of the chamber were brought to their vision: the cases, the batteries, the boxes, and all the many things which Cobb had placed therein a hundred years before.

There were no signs of life, however; everything was as cold and silent as the grave.

The first moments of their excitement being over, the men went to work with increased vigor; for there was, indeed, something more than ordinary in this place—something true in the letter of instructions left in the safe; there was about to be disclosed to the world a most marvelous fact in the history of mankind.

With alacrity the men worked and toiled at the breach, and soon it was opened to a full foot in diameter. A moment later, as one of the men gave a rather more powerful blow than usual, his bar slipped from his hand and went crashing into the chamber.

With the exclamation of the man came a sharp, crashing sound from within, followed by a flood of light. Everyone jumped to the opening, and gazed within the chamber, while a superstitious shudder ran through each, and it seemed to them as if their very hair was rising on end.

“My God! Look!” excitedly exclaimed Rawolle to the others, and his voice seemed hoarse and hollow. “Look! there is a man moving inside the chamber!”

With eyes almost protruding from their sockets, the men gazed through the breach. Indeed, it was enough to try a man’s nerves; for within that chamber which but a moment before was wrapped in total darkness, in cold, and apparent death, was now light and life, and a man was slowly rising from his bed, with his hands pressed against his breast. They watched him as he moved feebly toward the fire, which they could not see, but which they knew was there by its reflection.

They could not speak, so strained were their nerves; but their eyes followed every motion he made. They saw him turn to the fire and slowly rub himself with his hands; then take a bottle, and striking its top against the side of the fire-place, break it open and take a deep draught of its contents, giving no heed to its broken and ragged edges. They saw him open a chest and take from it what appeared to be a quilt and throw it around him, and then, seating himself at the fire, continue the rubbing as before.

Lyman, Rawolle’s assistant, was about to speak, but the latter motioned him to silence, saying, under his breath:

“Hush! let us see what this all means—what this man will do; for it is a scene that may never again be enacted upon this earth.”

Cobb, for he it was, as is already surmised, did not sit long in front of the fire, but soon arose and took from his breast and back the two copper discs which were held in place by a band; then tearing off the bandages from the lower part of his body, he threw them to one side; next he placed upon the fire a small stew-pan, filling it with the liquor from another bottle which he had taken up and opened.

In a minute the savory odor of cooking meat came to the nostrils of the watchers, while Cobb, taking it from the fire, poured it into a cup and began drinking it. Five minutes longer they watched him, during which time he had finished his repast, and had partially arrayed himself in clothing which he took from one of the boxes.

No longer able to restrain himself, Rawolle placed his head within the breach, and in a quiet tone of voice, so as not to startle Cobb, said:

“Your friends are here and waiting to assist you; what shall we do? See! we are at this hole which we have made endeavoring to gain entrance to your cell.”

As the words were spoken, the sound seemed to startle even the speaker, as well as the others, and Cobb turned, and for a moment shook as if some terrible vision had passed before his eyes; but, as the faces of the men were distinctly visible by the reflection from the fire and the incandescent lamp above it, he soon regained his composure, and in a weak voice asked:

“Who are you that have dared to break into this place? By what misfortune am I thus disturbed and my plans upset? By whose authority do you come? Have you gained the knowledge through Mr. Craft or Mr. Hathaway?”

“It is by the order of the former, sir, that we have broken into this chamber,” replied Rawolle, not knowing the exact import of Cobb’s question.

“Alas!” murmured Cobb, “are there no true friends on earth?”

With trembling limbs he sank down upon a box near the fire, but just in view of the others.

“We are ordered to rescue you, Mr. Cobb,” added Rawolle; “and your weak condition demands immediate succor. Waste no time, we implore. It is the President’s order.”

“Whose order?” quickly exclaimed Cobb.

“President Craft’s.”

Weak as he was, Cobb sprang toward the opening through which Rawolle was speaking, and excitedly cried:

“Is it not 1887? Who is President Craft? I never heard of him. Tell me, what is the year? Are we in 1800 or 1900?”

“Neither, sir,” answered Rawolle. “It is A.D. 2000.”

“My God! Have I been asleep since 1887?” and he pressed his hands to his brow, clutching his hair as if endeavoring to tear aside the veil of the past, that a realization of the moment might be made plain to him. “Have I slept a hundred and thirteen years? Am I now alive? or is this some terrible nightmare? No! no! I heard your voices! I live! I live again! Thank God! I have not failed in my undertaking.” He looked around him in a dazed manner.

“But can we not help you?” broke in Rawolle; “you have no time to lose in your weak condition. Tell us at once what we are to do; it will take over an hour to enlarge this breach. Have you no door, or mode of entrance?”

“Yes; there was a door, but it was sealed up after I entered this place. Go to the other side of the pedestal, and I will try to open it.”

They all passed around as directed, and Cobb applied himself to the wheel and gearing. Weak as he was, it became somewhat of a difficult task for him to turn the screw, but the mechanism had been so perfectly adjusted that it revolved even by his feeble strength. Lifting up the spring catch, he slowly turned the screw, and the door opened upon its rusty hinges.

A moment later, all were in the chamber of the Statue of Liberty.

Astonishment was depicted upon the countenances of all, as they beheld the interior of the chamber and its peculiar contents. But Rawolle gave no heed to the strange condition of the place; his thoughts were upon Cobb, who lay upon the floor, where he had fallen, unconscious, after opening the door. Quickly seizing him, they bore his body to the fire and rubbed back the departing life. His legs and arms were stiff from long inaction; his face was wan and his form somewhat emaciated. Their work was soon rewarded by a return to consciousness of their patient. Rawolle opened the box from which he had seen the clothing taken, and soon Cobb was clad in warm, comfortable garments. Ten minutes were consumed in preparing fresh broth and administering to the weak man’s wants.

Cobb’s strength returned quickly to him, thanks to the liquor and beef juice, and he moved from the fire toward the compass case.

“You say it is A.D. 2000?” he asked again; “are you not joking me? Is it indeed that year? or, rather, is A.D. 2000 this year?”

“For a fact,” answered Rawolle. “It is as I tell you; and we are now in the year 2000.”

All the others joined Rawolle in assuring Cobb that he was not the subject of any jest; it was just as had been told him.

“I cannot understand it; I cannot see why I have lain so long. I should have been awake years ago, in 1988; something has gone wrong,” and he moved closer to the compass case. “It must be here, if anywhere,” and he leaned over the box and gazed upon the needle and wheel-work. An instant only he looked, and then he sprang back and exclaimed:

“Ah! what is this?” and an expression of blank astonishment came over his face. “What is this? The needle of the compass not at 260, but still far away to the east of it!” and he examined it most carefully.

There it was, not at 260, but away to the east of those figures—at 899, or to the reading of 14 degrees 59 minutes. There was some mystery about this that sorely puzzled the brain of Cobb.

As the others attempted to speak, he bade them be silent until he could solve this problem.

Looking down, his eye fell upon the iron bar which the workman had let slip through his hand in opening the breach. It rested just under the aluminum rod attached to the wheel-work. From the bar his eyes wandered inquiringly from one to the other.

“It shlipped out of me hond in making ther hule,” said the man who had dropped it into the chamber.

The mystery was solved. The iron bar, in slipping through the workman’s hands into the chamber, had struck the aluminum rod and set the wheel-work in motion; everything else had worked perfectly, and as Cobb had designed that it should work. But one other thing troubled him very much, and that was why did the compass-needle mark 899 instead of 260, as it ought to do?

“Give me a pencil and paper,” he said to Rawolle, “and be still but a moment, and I will answer your questions.”

The materials were given to him, and he busied himself a moment in putting down some figures.

“Yes, as I thought,” he soon exclaimed, throwing down the pencil. “It was I who made the mistake. Gentlemen, you see that needle marking 899,” and he pointed it to them. “Well, a hundred and thirteen years ago, or, more accurately, in December, 1887, it marked 1,007.8. I computed that it would move to where that catch now is, at 260, in one hundred years; but, like many another man, I made a most simple error. In my work, I read 14.355, instead of 1.4355—the mere misplacing of the decimal point. It came near costing me my life. Instead of the needle moving 732.7 points, as I thought it would, it moved but 73.27 points in the hundred years that I anticipated remaining here. It has moved only 108.7 points in one hundred and thirteen years.”

It was well that Cobb had made this great mistake, for the movement of the magnetic meridian was, in reality, so slow on the meridian of San Francisco, that he could not have used it with any degree of safety. One hundred and eight points, or an arc of 1 degree 48 minutes, was too small to work upon, as any great magnetic storm, earthquake, or other disturbance might have caused it to oscillate over such a small arc and spring the wheel-work. In fact, the needle, as Cobb had set it, would not have arrived at the little catch before the middle of June, A.D. 2198.

Without losing another moment, Cobb wrapped himself in a heavy overcoat taken from the iron box, and requested Rawolle to take the other box with him, and to take him to a hotel at once, as he needed rest and refreshment.

The party then left the chamber which had been Cobb’s abiding-place for so many years, and proceeded to the Occidental Hotel, leaving a man to guard the place and its contents.

Arriving at the hotel, Cobb was at once shown to his room, and refreshments ordered; later on he detailed the whole story of his long and death-like sleep, and received, in return, all the information concerning the finding of the safe and the mission of Rawolle and Lyman.

Despite the secrecy with which all had been done, the papers of the next day contained the following:

And then followed column after column of the news, which startled all San Francisco at nine the next morning, when the extra edition was sent into the streets.

Thousands upon thousands of people visited Mt. Olympus after twelve had struck that day, and by midnight of that 22d of June, A.D. 2000, the whole world had heard the news, and wondered and wondered.