thing is so very
important that--well, I forgot."
He sat down and hitched his chair close to us, as he went on in a
lowered, almost awestruck tone.
"Kennedy," he whispered, "I'm on the trail, I think, of something
growing out of these terrible conditions in Europe that will tax the best
in the Secret Service. Think of it, man. There's an organization, right
here in this city, a sort of assassin's club, as it were, aimed at all the
powerful men the world over. Why, the most refined and intellectual
reformers have joined with the most red-handed anarchists and--"
"Sh! not so loud," cautioned Craig. "I think I have one of them in the
next room. Have they done anything yet to the Baron?"
It was Burke's turn now to look from one to the other of us in unfeigned
surprise that we should already know something of his secret.
"The Baron?" he repeated, lowering his voice. "What Baron?"
It was evident that Burke knew nothing, at least of this new plot which
Miss Lowe had indicated. Kennedy beckoned him over to the window
furthest from the door to his own room.
"What have you discovered?" he asked, forestalling Burke in the
questioning. "What has happened?"
"You haven't heard, then?" replied Burke.
Kennedy nodded negatively.
"Fortescue, the American inventor of fortescite, the new explosive, died
very strangely this morning."
"Yes," encouraged Kennedy, as Burke came to a full stop to observe
the effect of the information.
"Most incomprehensible, too," he pursued. "No cause, apparently. But
it might have been overlooked, perhaps, except for one thing. It wasn't
known generally, but Fortescue had just perfected a successful
electro-magnetic gun--powderless, smokeless, flashless, noiseless and
of tremendous power. To-morrow he was to have signed the contract to
sell it to England. This morning he is found dead and the final plans of
the gun are gone!"
Kennedy and Burke were standing mutely looking at each other.
"Who is in the next room?" whispered Burke hoarsely, recollecting
Kennedy's caution of silence.
Kennedy did not reply immediately. He was evidently much excited by
Burke's news of the wonderful electro-magnetic gun.
"Burke," he exclaimed suddenly, "let's join forces. I think we are both
on the trail of a world-wide conspiracy--a sort of murder syndicate to
wipe out war!"
Burke's only reply was a low whistle that involuntarily escaped him as
he reached over and grasped Craig's hand, which to him represented the
sealing of the compact.
As for me, I could not restrain a mental shudder at the power that their
first murder had evidently placed in the hands of the anarchists, if they
indeed had the electro-magnetic gun which inventors had been seeking
for generations. What might they not do with it--perhaps even use it
themselves and turn the latest invention against society itself!
Hastily Craig gave a whispered account of our strange visit from Miss
Lowe, while Burke listened, open-mouthed.
He had scarcely finished when he reached for the telephone and asked
for long distance.
"Is this the German embassy in Washington?" asked Craig a few
moments later when he got his number. "This is Craig Kennedy, in
New York. The United States Secret Service will vouch for me--
mention to them Mr. Burke of their New York office who is here with
me now. I understand that Baron Kreiger is leaving for New York to
meet some bankers this afternoon. He must not do so. He is in the
gravest danger if he--What? He left last night at midnight and is already
here?"
Kennedy turned to us blankly.
The door to his room opened suddenly.
There stood Miss Lowe, gazing wild-eyed at us. Evidently her
supernervous condition had heightened the keenness of her senses. She
had heard what we were saying. I tried to read her face. It was not fear
that I saw there. It was rage; it was jealousy.
"The traitress--it is Marie!" she shrieked.
For a moment, obtusely, I did not understand.
"She has made a secret appointment with him," she cried.
At last I saw the truth. Paula Lowe had fallen in love with the man she
had sworn to kill!
CHAPTER II
THE ELECTRO-MAGNETIC GUN
"What shall we do?" demanded Burke, instantly taking in the
dangerous situation that the Baron's sudden change of plans had opened
up.
"Call O'Connor," I suggested, thinking of the police bureau of missing
persons, and reaching for the telephone.
"No, no!" almost shouted Craig, seizing my arm. "The police will
inevitably spoil it all. No, we must play a lone hand in this if we are to
work it out. How was Fortescue discovered, Burke?"
"Sitting in a chair in his laboratory. He must have been there all night.
There wasn't a mark on him, not a sign of violence, yet his face was
terribly
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