  From the pay station in the drug store Roger got the hospital and was connected with Grover. “Is Astrovox all right? Did he say anything?” “He will probably recover, Roger, but he won’t talk for many days, perhaps for weeks.” Rapidly, concisely, Roger outlined the situation. “But I told you——” “I am not in the lab. I went right away from there, making sure all the safety things were still on, before the firemen had pulled away.” “Don’t go back, no matter what. And—Roger—be sure your room is protected fully before you go to bed.” “What’s the matter? Do you know?—who is it?” “I don’t know who it is, but some desperate person has determined to protect him or herself by any necessary means.” “The Tibetans?” “I think not, Roger.” It was some person or group recognized by Astrovox. That recognition had led to the blow he was suffering from. “Fortunately, it was not fatal,” Grover continued, “and I stayed here less to hear him, for I knew that would not be probable. I was here to protect him if anyone, knowing he lived, tried more desperate methods still.” “You can’t stay day and night.” “No,” answered Grover. “Potts is on his way here now. I will be home in an hour or a little more than an hour.” Roger asked one more question. “Why would they want to lure me to the lab?” “No other way to get in.” “But they did get in, Grover. The lyco——” “Probably touched off with a long pole, from the skylight. They could break the glass, insert a long pole, like the one we use to shift the ventilators. To draw firemen who would smash in—or set off an alarm that would bring you, especially after the preparation by Toby.” “Then he——” “Probably someone either paid him well, or else, as I think is more likely, he really had left the powder there. Some one knew it.” “Why should I be bothered?” Grover’s theory was that through his reputation as the Ear Detective, or else because of some film or other data, the suspected miscreant feared him as he had feared Astrovox. The conversation ended and Roger, finding his old friend, the taxi driver, on his night station, used his car. At home he made certain that the devices, moved from Doctor Ryder’s residence, which no longer seemed threatened, because the absence of the Eye of Om had been explained to the Tibetans, all worked. He shifted the recording needle a dozen turns of the threaded arm that made it follow a spiral path. The call of “fire” and the crackling noises occupied only the start of the disk. He set the recorder to fall in place further over toward the center. Switching on the electrically charged locks, he kept his desk lamp burning while he retired. Just as he was about to turn it out, the light died. Thinking that the bulb had been used up, he tried another light, just as a precaution, recalled to mind by the doctor’s experience. That light was unresponsive. At once Roger raced to the door into the hall. With no current the lock, with his key inside, turned readily. Intuition told him what had happened here, as in the other instance. The cellar fuse box had been opened and a fuse had been removed. That prevented current from entering the circuits, and even the alarm was silent, although he knew that cutting off the current served as well as any other way to start the recorder disk and the camera. He cut them off hurriedly. “I’ll want them, maybe, a little later,” he told himself. “Whoever did this will have to come up two flights of stairs. It will give me just time to re-adjust them to go on again, if I want. And I hope he or she or it left the fuse by the box.” He had a plan. A trap, made useless to protect him, could be made useful to hold someone else! Slipping into his bathroom, with his clothes carefully tucked under his arm, Roger unlocked the door into Grover’s adjoining room. He went in there stealthily. Then, waiting, he listened. His one danger lay in the chance that the miscreant might come by way of Grover’s room, if it was known to be empty. As he heard someone working a jimmy or other springing implement on his door, very quietly, though, he slipped into the hall with as little noise as the hinges of the door allowed. It was hardly likely that the slight squeaks were audible down the hall. He saw a man, bent low, his back fortunately turned that way, as he tried to snap open the lock without much noise, perhaps trusting that Roger slept soundly and would not awaken. Like a wraith slipping without sound along a haunted hallway, Roger got to the stairway. Its noise must be risked. He trod close to the wall side, stepping two lifts down to avoid a known faulty stair. It required nice psychological deduction to enable him to use his trap, if the fuse was available. The marauder, or worse, must be in the room, and as Roger hoped, he would probably have shut the door to muffle any commotion from getting to other possibly occupied rooms. Once in, the person would see he was not in bed, and had not been, and would either take a moment to discover if he hid, or would pause to consider; he must have been watching, must have seen Roger arrive. The fuse, when he snapped on a cellar bulb in the garage, was on a ledge under the switch box. Was it too soon, Roger wondered, to screw it into the tiny receptacle? He must not wait too long. His absence once assured, suspicion and fear would drive out the one who was now his quarry. He must risk it at once. He screwed home the small 15-ampere fuse. With hopeful heart and padding feet he ran up the cellar steps, up the next flight, and paused to take observations. All was quiet. Had his trap sprung? He could tell by finding a rubber glove among Grover’s things, with which to try the knob he had so recently turned with ease into his bathroom. He got the insulating glove from among some old laboratory togs, too big for him but satisfactory for his need. With care he turned the knob. The door did not yield. The system was on. A difficulty came into mind. To see if he had a captive he must release the heavy charge, by use of a small cable-key that broke the circuit. If his presumable evil-wisher was caught, he might get out before Roger could re-set the system. He listened. There was not an audible sound, coming through the door. |
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