Page:Weird Tales volume 31 number 02.djvu/9

 risk even if the ones who murdered him tonight had done their work less thoroughly."

The big green truck had drawn up at the steps and a man in express uniform hopped out. "Doctor Pavlovitch?" he asked when the houseman answered to his thunderous banging at the knocker.

"No-o, sir," gulped the servant, "the doctor isn't home just now"

"Okay, pal. Will you sign for this consignment and give us a lift with it? It's marked urgent."

With grunts and exclamations of exertion, plus a liberal allowance of the sort of language prized by soldiers, stevedores and sailors, the great packing-case was finally wrestled up the steps and dropped unceremoniously in the hall. The express van turned down the drive, and we slipped from our concealment to find Pavlovitch's houseman gazing at the giant parcel ruefully.

"What'll I do with it now, sir?" he asked de Grandin. "I know th' doctor was expectin' somethink of th' sort, for he told me so hisself this mornin'; but 'e didn't tell me what it was, an' I don't know whether I should open it or leave it for th' officers."

De Grandin tweaked an end of waxed mustache between his thumb and forefinger as he regarded the great crate. It was more than six feet long, something more than three feet wide, and better than a yard in height.

"Eh bien," he answered, "I think the citizens of Troy were faced with the same problem. They forbore to open that which came to them, with most deplorable results. Let us not be guilty of the same mistake. Have you a crowbar handy?"

put that case together had intended it to stand rough usage, for the two-inch planks that formed it were secured with mortises and water-swollen dowels, so though the three of us attacked it furiously it was upward of an hour ere we forced the first board loose; and that proved only the beginning, for so strongly were the shooks attached to one another that our task was more like breaking through a solid log than ripping a joined box apart. Finally the last plank of the lid came off and revealed a packing of thick felt.

"Que diable?" snapped de Grandin as he struck his crowbar on the heavy wadding. "What is this?"

"What did you expect?" I queried as I mopped a handkerchief across my face.

"A man, perhaps a pair of them, by blue!" he answered. "It would have made an ideal hiding-place. Equipped with inside fasteners, it could have been thrown open in the night, permitting those who occupied it to come forth and search the place at leisure."

"Humph, there's certainly room for a man or two in there," I nodded, prodding tentatively at the black felt wadding with my finger, "but how would he get air—I say!"

"What is it?" he demanded. "You have discovered something"

"Feel this," I interrupted, "it seems to me it's"

"Parbleu, but you have right!" he exclaimed as he laid his hand against the felt. "It is cool, at least ten degrees cooler than the atmosphere. Let us hasten to unearth the secret of this sacré chest, my friends, but let us also work with caution, it may contain a charge of liquid air."

"Liquid air?" I echoed as with the heavy shears the servant brought he started cutting at the layers of laminated felt.

"Certainement. Liquid air, my friend. Brought in sudden contact with warm