Page:Weird Tales Volume 2 Number 2 (1923-09).djvu/60



T WAS a night of storm. The streets were a mass of slime and slush. A beastly wind was blowing, and as I left the club it nearly took me off my feet. It was with considerable satisfaction, therefore, that I found a cheery log fire awaiting me in the library of my home.

"A bad night, sir," commented my servant as he helped me remove my soaking clothes and get into some dry ones.

"It certainly is, George—just listen to that wind howl—seems as though a thousand devils were abroad—doesn’t it?"

"It does that, sir."

The wind shrieked around the cornice of the house. It died out with a long, low, wail, only to rise again with a greater fury than before.

A hot toddy at my elbow, I dismissed my man for the night and settled down before the fire to enjoy an hour or so of reading before retiring.

And now there came to my ears another sound. At first I thought it was only the wind. But as I heard it a second time I felt certain that it was a human voice calling. Laying aside the book I had been reading, I leaned forward in an effort to catch the sound again. Then suddenly, above the screech of the wind I heard my name called.

"Madden—Madden, for God's sake open the door!"

With a shriek of terror the voice trailed off in a high pitched wail that mingled with the howling wind.

Snatching my automatic from the mantel above the fire-place, I rushed to the hall door and flung it open. Involuntarily I drew back, as a mud-covered figure rushed past me into the hall.

"Close that door! For the love of God, Madden! Quick, before it is too late!"

Gasping for breath, eyes bulging with terror, the figure crouched against the wall like a hunted animal.

Closing and bolting the door, I turned and hastily scrutinized the man's face. Through the mud that covered his features I recognized Hapesworth Chadwick, collector of animals for the Wild Park Zoological Gardens.

"My God, Chadwick! What has happened?"

"Are you sure no one or—or—anything—can get in through that door?" he anxiously inquired, ignoring my question.

"Dynamite is about the only thing that will open that door from the outside," I assured him.

Seeming more at ease, he lifted a shaking hand and drew it across his face, wiping off some of the mud that stuck there. It was not until then that I noticed his attire. Clad in a suit of  59