Page:Weird Tales Volume 7 Number 5 (1926-05).djvu/34

 were losing valuable time. Finally he laid his hand on Ferris's arm only to have it flung roughly aside. Here again it was strange, for Ferris turned to the Spider and peered long and intently into his face, lit up as it was by the dim glow from the window. The Spider was no student of psychology, but there was in Ferris's eyes something which made him panicky with fear—a certain vagueness which was alarming.

How long this went on (it seemed hours) the Spider scarcely knew. Once he thought all was lost when the second of the two men, the emaciated one, suddenly glanced up at the window. The Spider could have sworn that he had seen Ferris, and the little man's hand flew to his automatic, his ears attuned for the cry of alarm. Instead (and the Spider could have sworn it) the man in the tower seemed to stand there for the fraction of a second, staring in fascination at the window. Was it a look of recognition! Then the man within took a step across the floor and the Spider raised his weapon. One more step—but the man had stopped. He turned away. Ah, the other had spoken to him.

From out of the east came the faint hum of airplane motors, only a subtle throb of the ether. The plane was coming back! They must be gone! As roughly as he dared, the Spider pulled Perris from the window, and pinning him with all his strength against the wall, signaled for him to listen.

Zoom, zoom, zoom. Apparently they had cut out the silencer. And they were coming nearer. Had Ferris lost his senses? Would the fool understand? Ferris shuddered once or twice and rubbed his forehead in a vague, perplexed way.

"It's the plane," hissed the Spider. "Are you drunk or crazy? We gotta get outta here and mighty quick!"

Ferris stiffened. His very expression seemed to change as he turned his ear to the night wind. "Gad, you're right," he mumbled. "Why didn't you say so before?" The Spider swore under his breath.

retraced their steps as quietly as possible and made their way down through the tower to the courtyard. More groping—for they dared not use the light now—and they found the iron ladder leading down under the bridge to the little stone dock. There was no time to remove their clothing now, so they plunged in as they were. By this time the faint zooming from the east had grown to a deep-throated hum. The plane would be upon them before they were half-way across the lake. Yet, once out there in the water, they were reasonably safe. There was small likelihood of the midnight fliers glancing down into the waters where they were.

But what was this? Out of the murk to the east came a sudden purplish gleam! Only a faint glow at first, it grew brighter with the increasing drone of the engines. In a manner that he had never known before, Perris felt the fingers of panic clawing at his vitals. Around him the water grew icily cold. He heard the Spider call out something from behind him. There was panic in the little man's voice and it seemed to chain his own limbs. That had been a cry of fear—fear of the unknown. Turning his head he gazed into the east. There it was, its somber wings outlined against the scudding clouds. But now, streaming vertically down from the fuselage to the surface of the water, was a solid ray of purple light.

The plane roared on, drew nearer. Somehow, Perris knew not why, the fear that froze his limbs now struck through to his heart. Instinctively he felt he must avoid at all costs that