Speaker 1: The Assassins Club by Gillette Burgess. Every time I see
a gargoyle, said Astro, I feel a thrill of secret kinship.
It's as if I were the only one who understood
its mystery. If I were romantic, I would say that
in a previous incarnation I had lived in the dark ages.
What do you think about gargoyle'spelesca? Astro looked up from
a book of Violette Laduke's architectural drawings and glanced across
to the pretty blonde head. His assistant, busy with her
card catalog where she kept memoranda of the seer's famous cases,
made a delightful picture against the dull crimson hangings of
the wall. She came over to him and looked down
across his shoulder at the pictures of the grotesque stone monsters. Why,
she said, I've seen those horrible, cynical old ones on
Notre Dame in Paris that gazed down on the city roofs.
I've always wondered why they placed them on beautiful churches.
It's a deep question, said Astro, his eyes still on
the engraving. But to my mind they symbolized the ancient
cult of wonder. In the Middle Ages, men really wondered.
They didn't anticipate flying machines years before they were invented,
as we moderns do. They took nothing for granted. Everything
in life was a miracle. Boleska dropped quietly into a
seat to listen. Astro had many moods. Sometimes he was
the dreamy, occult seer, cryptic, mysterious. Again he was the
alert man of affairs, keen, logical, worldly. She had seen
him too in society, affable, bland, jocose. But in this introspective, whimsical,
analytic mood she got nearest him and learned something of
the true import of his life. He went on his
eyes half closed, his red silken robe enveloping him like
a shroud, the diamond in his turban glittering as he
moved his head. His olive skinned, picturesque face, with its
dark eyes, was serene and quiet. Now, a little blue
tailed lizard, one of Astro's many exotic fancies, frisked across
the table. He caught it and held it as he talked.
In the thirteenth century, clergy and laity alike believed that
the forces of good and evil were almost equally balanced.
They worshiped the Almighty, but propitiated Satan as well. So
these grotesque beasts leered down from the cornices of the
House of God and watched the holy offices of priests.
The devil had his own litany, his own science. They
were forbidden practices, but they flourished then among the most
intellectual people, as they flourished now among the most ignorant.
Magic was then a science, Now it is a fake. Still.
A man's chief desires to get something for nothing, to
find a short cut to wisdom. The gargoyle is replaced
by the dollar mark. So be it, one must earn
one's living. Selah, I have spoken. He looked up with
a smile and a boyish twinkle in his eyes. Then
his business like, cynical self returned. He jumped up, tall
and eager, a picturesque Oriental figure informed with the stirring
life of the West. Valesca. I've been reading about the
devil worshipers of Paris, the Black Mass, infant sacrifices, and
all that that's in a ENaC grenistic cult. I'd like
to know if there really is any genuine survival of
the worship of evil. Boleska shuddered. Oh, that would be horrible,
but interesting. He clasped his hands behind him and gazed
up at the silver starred ceiling. I don't mean degeneracy
or insanity, but a man that does evil for the
love of it, as they did in the old days. Think,
for instance, of the lost art of torture, the science
of human suffering. Oh don't I hate to have you
talk like that? Boleska put a hand on his arm.
Very well, I won't. He snapped his fingers as if
to rid himself of the thought, and walked into the
reception room adjoining the great studio. Bileska went back to
her work for some minutes. She arranged her cards in
their tin box, and hearing voices outside, she looked up
and listened. Then she walked up, softly, across the heavy rugs, and,
touching a button in the mahogany wainscotting, passed through a
secret door. Scarcely had she disappeared when Astro returned, ushering
in a young woman stylishly dressed in brown. When she
put aside her veil, her face shone out like a portrait,
vivid instinct, with grace and a delicate, rare high bred beauty,
full of character and force. Astro showed her a seat
under the electric lamp. I thought you would help me,
if any one could, she was saying, in continuation of
her conversation in the reception room. If it were anything
less vague, I'd speak to mother about it. But it's
too strange and elusive. I'm sure he has not been drinking.
I would notice that in other ways. And yet he
is different, he is not himself. It frightens me. Have
you spoken to him about it? Astro asked, yes, But
he won't say anything. He evades it and says he's
all right. But I don't dare to marry him till
I know what it is that has changed him. I
know it seems disloyal to suspect him, but how can
I help it? What is mister Cameron's business. He's a
naval lieutenant in the construction department at the Brooklyn Navy Yard,
and that is another reason why I'm worried. He has
charge of work that is important and secret. If this change,
whatever it is, should affect his work, he'd be disgraced.
He might even be dishonorably discharged. When have you noticed
this peculiarity of his at any particular time, usually on Sundays,
when he almost always comes to call, but sometimes in
the middle of the week. At times he talks queerly,
almost as if in his sleep, of and queer landscapes
that have nothing to do with what we are discussing.
Sometimes he doesn't even finish his sentences and goes off
into a sort of days for a minute, and then
he'll ask my pardon, and go on as if nothing
had happened. And when shall you see him next? He
will probably come Saturday afternoon. Usually he stays to dinner,
but of late he has been having engagements that prevent
all right, said the seer, I'll see what I can do.
Knowing that he is at your house, I shall be
able to orient myself and thereby be more receptive to
his astral influence. I shall then be able to ascertain
the cause of any psychic disservance. The young woman, rising
to go looked at him plaintively. Oh, I hope I
haven't done wrong in telling you about it. But I
do love him, so I can't bear to see him
so changed. My dear miss Mannering, said astro kindly, you
need have no fear. I assure you your business shall
be kept absolutely confidential, with the exception of my assistant.
No one shall ever know that you came here. Your assistant,
She looked at him doubtfully, Miss Wynn, she seemed surprised.
A lady, she asked, then timidly, might I see her? Certainly?
Astro touched a bell. In a moment, Veleska appeared between
the velvet portiere and waited there, her piquant, sensitive face
questioning his wish. Her golden hair brightly illuminated from behind.
Miss Mannering walked to her impulsively and took her hand.
Might I speak to you for a moment, she asked. Velleska,
giving Astro a glance, led the visitor into the reception room.
I had no idea that Astro had a lady assistant,
she said. I feel much better about having told him now.
Veleska smiled at her and held the hand in both hers. Oh,
I only do some of his routine works, she said,
but he often discusses his important cases with me. I'm
sure that he can help you. He is wonderful. I
never knew him to fail, Miss Wynn, said the visitor.
No one but a woman can understand how distressed I am.
I'm sure I can trust you. I can read that
in your face. I am always sure of my intuitions,
and now that I have seen you, I'm going to
tell you something that I didn't quite dare to tell Astro.
I know my fiancee is in some trouble, but what
I'm afraid of is too dreadful. It terrifies me. Here,
look at this. It dropped out of mister Cameron's pocket
the last time he called, and I found it after
he had gone. She handed an envelope to Vealeska, who
looked at it carefully and drew out a single sheet
of paper on This was rich and in green ink
be at the Assassin's Saturday at seven Haskell's turn. What
can that mean? Miss Mannering whispered, I didn't dare to
show it for fear of getting Bob into trouble in
some way. That word assassin's. Oh it's awful. May I
take this letter, Bileska asked, No, I daren't leave it.
Mister Cameron may miss it and ask for it, but
you may tell Astro if you think best. Bleska gave
another glance at the letter and handed it back. My
dear miss Mannering, don't worry about it, she said, pressing
her hand. It may not be so bad as you fear.
Whatever it is, Astro will find it out, you may
be sure. When the visitor had departed, Bleska walked into
the studio with the news. Astro listened in silence till
she had finished. Then he smiled, nodded, and took up
his water pipe lazily. The solution of this thing is
so simple that I'm surprised it hasn't occurred to you,
my dear, But that's because of your lack of experience
and the fact that you haven't read so much as
I have. But all the same, there may be something
deeper in it than appears now. At any rate, the
girl is to be helped, and the lieutenant as well,
and that we shall do. But what about the assassins,
Velleska inquired anxiously. Oh that's the whole thing, of course,
But I think I'll let you study that out yourself.
It will be good practice for your reasoning powers. First,
let's see if your powers of observation have improved. Tell
me all about the letter. He blew out a series
of smoke rings and regarded her quizzically well. Velleska puckered
her brows. It was written on buff laid linen paper
of about ninety pounds weight, very heavy stock anyway, in
an envelope of the same marked Madison Square station April nineteenth,
four p m. The handwriting was that of a stout,
middle aged man who had just had some serious illness,
A foreigner, hard working, unscrupulous, dishonest, with no artistic sensibility.
Bravo is that all? No, the stationery came from Perkins
and Shawls. I saw the stamping under the flap very good.
Unfortunately we can't ask there about the assassins, but perhaps
will find my ideal criminal. After all, the easiest plan
will be to follow Cameron tomorrow night. Meanwhile, you had
better do some thinking yourself. Bulesca sat down and gazed
long into the great open fire, her brows frowning, her
hands working mechanically absorbed in thought. Astro took a small
folding chessboarding gatray amused himself with an intricate problem in
the logistics of the game. When at last he had
queened his white pawn according to his theory, he looked
over at his assistant and smiled to see her seriousness.
In that look, something seemed to pass from him to her. Oh,
she cried, jumping up. Does it begin with an H,
more properly with a cea, he replied. She shook her
head and went at the problem again, and kept at
it until it was time to close the studio. The
next afternoon, Astro and Veleska waited for two hours across
seventy eighth Street from Miss Mannering's house before they saw
the lieutenant emerge. They had already a good description of
him and had no trouble in recognizing the tall, good
looking fellow, who, at half past six o'clock walked briskly
up the street, ran down the stairs to the subway,
and took a seat in a downtown local train. Astro
and Veleska separated and took seats on the opposite side
of the car, watching their man guardedly. At twenty third Street,
he got out, went up to the sidewalk, and walked eastward.
Beyond Fourth Avenue was a row of three story old
fashioned brick houses. Back from the street. The lieutenant entered
the small iron gate to one of the yards, and
taking a key from his pocket went in the front
door of a house. It slammed behind him, the headquarters
of the assassins, said Astro, calmly, his hands in his
overcoat pockets, studying the windows. And what next, asked Bleska.
We'll wait, awhile, come into this next doorway. On the
side of the doorway they now entered was a sign
furnished rooms. It was now after seven o'clock and had
begun to snow. Veleska stood inside the vestibule, protected from
the weather. Astro waited just outside, watching the doorway of
number one O nine. The twenty third street cars clang
noisily by the din of the traffic, muffled by the
carpet of snow. The open mouth of the subway sucked
in an unsteady stream of wayferrors. Suddenly, Velleska put her
hand on Astro's arm. Does it begin with C O,
she asked. He smiled, No, c A, he answered, Oh, dear,
I thought I had it, but don't tell me. I'm
sure I'll work it out, though, but it makes me anxious.
Anything might happen on a night like this, Yes, even
an assassination. You don't fear that, really, She looked at
him in alarm. But I do assassination of a sort.
What else could the letter mean? She had not time
to answer before the door of the next house opened
and a man buttoned up in a fur trimmed overcoat
came out. He stopped a moment to raise an umbrella,
and they could see that he was a stout, pasty
faced German of some fifty years, with a curling yellow mustache.
He wore spectacles and seemed to be near sighted. There's
the man who wrote the letter. Follow him, Veleska. Find
out who he is, and all it's possible, we must
follow every lead. Veleeska was off on the instant, running
down the steps and walking swiftly up twenty third Street.
Astro lighted a cigar, turned up his collar, and waited
another half hour in the doorway, nobody having entered or
left number one O nine. By that time he rang
the bell of number one eleven. A sweetish maid came
to the door. I'd like to see what rooms you have,
said Astro. The only one is on the third floor rear,
she replied, and showed him up two flights of unlighted stairs,
steep and narrow to a small square room meagerly furnished.
Walking to the window, Astro saw that level with the
floor was a tin covered roof over an extension in
the rear. It stretched along the whole width of the
four houses in the row. On this he might easily
stand and look into the adjoining windows. Saying that he
would move in later, Astro paid the girl for a
week's rent in advance, and left the house and walked home.
Veleska next morning came full of news. The German kept
right along twenty third Street, toward Broadway, she said, and
it occurred to me that I might get him to
make the first advances and get acquainted without being suspected.
So I passed him, and very gracefully slipped on snow
and dropped my purse. Then I began looking about on
the sidewalk for the money that might have dropped out.
My German friend came along and offered to help me.
It took some time, and the long and short of
it was that we had quite a conversation, and I
convinced him that I was respectable. He walked along with
me and asked me where I was going. I said
that I had intended going to the hippodrome with a friend,
but that I had been detained and it was so
late I thought i'd go home. He proposed having something
to eat, and of course I refused. I had to
be urged and urged. But the more I refused, the
more anxious he was to have me come. Finally, I
reluctantly assented to his invitation, and we went to the cafe.
Riche well, you ought to have seen that German eat.
I mean you ought to have heard him eat. I
couldn't eat anything myself, but sipped the wine he ordered,
and coyly led him on, chattering away about myself ingenuously.
I had an engagement with Richard Mansfield and three years
contracted one hundred dollars a week. When he died and
was awfully anxious to get another chance, all the money
I had was tied up in one of the trust companies,
and so on. He kept on eating, taking the biggest
mouthfuls I ever saw, and leaving half of it on
his mustache. Oh, I put in some hard work, I
assure you. Then he began asking me questions and wanted
to know if I would like to earn some money
on the side, would I I jumped at it. Five
thousand actor folk out of a job this season, you know,
and all that. He said, I reminded him of his
dead daughter. You know, I'm always reminding people of somebody,
and he thought he could trust me. I cast down
my eyes and let him go on. He said there
was a man he knew who has stolen some confidential
papers and he wanted to get them away from him
without publicity. He needed a good, clever woman to help
him out on the job. I brightened up considerably. He
asked me to go home with him so that he
could give me a photograph to identify my victim. I
said I would, although I confess I was getting nervous,
not being quite sure what he was up to. He
had begun paying me compliments, and when a German begins
to get sentimental, well you know. I took the subway
with him and we went up to one hundred and
twenty sixth Street. There was a big apartment hotel there
called the Dahlia, one of those marble halled affairs that
look as if they were built of a dozen different
kinds of fancy soap, with a red carpet and awfully
funny oil paintings and Negro hall boys sitting in Renaissance
arm chairs. I refused to go upstairs. Well, after a
while he came down the elevator and handed me this photograph.
What do you think? She handed Astro a cabinet photograph.
He lifted his fine brows when he looked at it.
Lieutenant Cameron Veleska nodded. I'm to scrape up an acquaintance
with him, get his confidence, and then report to Herr
Buymer for final instructions. I wonder what poor little miss
Mannering would say. She took off her sables, her saucy
fur touch, and touched up her hair. At the great
carved mirror at one end of the studio, Astro sat
regarding the portrait in his hand. He looked up to ask,
did you find out what his business was? She whirled
round to him. Oh, I forgot. He's the agent of
a big German firm connected with the Krupp's steel plant.
They control the rights to a new magazine Pistol. I
was awfully interested in machinery. You know, it bored me
to death, but I listened half an hour to his
description of a new ammunition hoist for battleships. Astro was
suddenly electrified with energy. Ah, he exclaimed, You didn't remember
that the Crupps stand in with the German government and
have the biggest subsidies and contracts in the world. He
wants you to make up to a construction officer in
the United States Navy. Does he He needs a clever woman,
I should say he did. Was her Bimer sober perfectly
as far as I could see, except for his sentimentality.
Of course, he was a bit effusive. You know, Yes,
I see it wasn't his night. It was Haskell's night,
whoever Haskell is. But I think we'll have to hurry.
This looks more serious than I thought at first. I
shall sleep at number one eleven East twenty third Street
to night. And meanwhile, I have a nice job of
forgery for you. Velleska. I wish you'd practice copying this
writing till you can write a short note that will
pass for Lieutenant Cameron's handwriting. He took a letter from
a drawer. The envelope was addressed to Misviolet Mannering. Velleska
took it and read it over carefully. It was a
single sheet torn from a double page, and read partly
as follows. I believe that just as everything seems somehow
different at night, when we can see farther than by day,
For can we not see the stars when our emotions
seem freer? So there are two worlds in which it
is possible to exist. One is the dreary, everyday place
of business and duty and pain. The other is free
from care or suffering. Don't we enter that occult world
at night through our dreams, where there is no such
thing as conscience. There are no consequences, There no doubt.
It's a dangerous place because it is abnormal, but its
exploration is fascinating. Why ignore the fact that it exists
as a refuge from the worries of matter of fact existence.
Veleska read it thoughtfully. Her eyes looked through the paper
as if into a mist beyond no wonder. Poor mismannering
is worried, she said to herself. She looked at Astro
as if to ask a question. He was busy with
a planimiter calculating the area of a queer irregular polygon
drawn on a sheet of parchment. Seeing his tense look,
she took turned to her study of the manuscript as
soon as it was dark. Astro opened the window of
his room on twenty third Street and walked along the
crackling tin roof till he came to the first window
of the house occupied by the assassins. Looking in, he
saw a small, bare hall bedroom furnished with a cot,
a washstand, and one chair. The next two windows were lighted.
He approached them carefully. Three men were seated at a
library table strewn with magazines. All were smoking comfortably. One
Astro recognized as the Lieutenant, another as her Bimer. The
third was a yellow faced man with red hair, high
cheek bones, and dark eyes deeply set into his skull.
In front of him was a plate filled with what
looked like caviare sandwiches cut small and thin. Her Bimer
said something at which the others laughed loudly, then with
a flourish as if drinking their health. Lieutenant Cameron took
one of the sandwiches and ate it almost with an
air of bravado. Bimer looked at his watch, The lean
yellow faced man walked out of the room. The Lieutenant
took up an illustrated paper and began to read. Astro
tiptoed carefully back to his room, put on his overcoat
and went downstairs. Walked over to the drug store and
at the telephone booth rang up Velesca. Have you written
the letter? He asked, Not yet was the answer, Well,
you must do it immediately as well as you can.
Bring it to number one eleven and ask for mister Silverman.
He then went back to his room. Another stealthy glance
through the windows of the club showed the two still
at the table. Cameron was busy with a pencil and
a sheet of paper exploded, leaning something to the German.
The yellow faced man watched them over his book. The
lieutenant was evidently talking with a little difficulty. Every little
while he stopped and began again with an effort. One
leg was twitching at the knee joint. He supported his
head heavily on his hand. Going back to his room,
Astro took a bottle of ammonia from his overcoat pocket
and placed it on the sink. Next, he poured a
white powder from a paper and dissolved it in a
tumbler of water, stirring it with a spoon. This done,
he took the wash bowl from the stand and put
it on the table beside the bed. Then he sat
down to wait for Vealesca. In half an hour she appeared,
breathing hard, her cheeks flushed with her haste. Here it is,
she said, as soon as the maid had left. It's
the best I could do. She handed it over. It
read please allow the bearer to come in and see
me on important business. At any time he may present
this Robert Cameron good, said Astro. Now you must wait
here and listen at the window till you hear my whistle.
Then come right along the roof to me and be
ready for anything. He started to open the door when
she put a hand on his arm. Does it begin
with C A N, she asked breathlessly. He nodded, How
did you get it from the lieutenant's letter? Of course, Well,
it may have begun with D A N. By this
time d A N G E R perhaps be ready.
And he was downstairs. At the door of the Assassin's Club,
A white haired negro answered the bell. Astro presented the letter.
I wished to see Lieutenant Cameron immediately, he said, I
don't perxactly know, SA said the darky ma Oda's is
not to leave. Nobody come in. Yah, I expect ah
better say no sa Astra brushed past him and had
set his foot on the stair when a fat face
looked down over the balusters. The portly form of her
Bimer followed it. Vat's the matter, he inquired, as he
started down. Without further parley, Astro ran up the stair,
and before there was any time for resistance from the
astonished German, grasped him by the knees, and, pulling his
feet from under him, sent him madly sliding down the stairs.
Her Bimer, swearing a polysyllabic oath, stumbled awkwardly to his
feet and set off upstairs again after his attacker, but
by this time Astro was at the top of the
second flight. He dashed into the square room in the
rear where he had seen the group of men. It
was empty. Beside it, however, was a small hall bedroom,
and here, in his shirt sleeves, lying in a stupor
on the cot lay Lieutenant Cameron. Astro sprang to the
door and locked, just as the excited German pumped ponderously
on the panels. Next, he threw up the window and whistled, Then,
taking the Lieutenant in his arms, he succeeded in carrying
him to the window sill. Boleska was already on the
roof outside waiting for him. Take his feet, said Astro
under his breath, and so together they managed to get
the lieutenant out on the roof and to the window
of the chamber in number one eleven. By this time
the man had begun to revive and to protest in
word and action against his removal. They paid no heed
to him, however, and bundled him into the room and
on the bed. Then Astro shook him energetically. Wake up, man,
he cried, wake up now, you can if you try here,
smell this. He reached for the ammonia and held it
under the lethargic man's nostrils. The lieutenant turned away, his head, coughed, blinked,
and partially rose on one arm. Who are you, he said,
gazing at them in surprise. Friends of miss mannerings, said Astro.
The lieutenant shook his head and stared, what's the matter,
he brought out laboriously. I got you away from Buymer
afraid of trouble. Want to help you, Astro spoke, very distinctly,
as if to a deaf man. The lieutenant felt for
his coat, found himself without one. Seemed puzzled and dropped
back again limply. The draw His voice ended in a mumble. Yes,
the drawer. What drawer, Astro asked, eagerly, find draw The
lieutenant seemed to drop asleep. I wonder what he means.
There's something on his mind, No doubt he has hidden something.
Astro looked keenly at the lesca under drawn brows. Can't
you revive him again, she asked, No use trying the
ammonia yet it seems to have too great a reaction
and sends him into a deeper sleep. We'll have to
wait till he comes to himself for a moment. Naturally.
You know what it is, now, don't you? She nodded.
And I found it out, curiously, only from the dictionary.
I looked up the word assassin and found that it
came from hashashin or hashish eater. Then I looked up
about the old man of the Mountain who used to
drug his followers with bang until they would commit any crime.
And that led me, of course, to cannabis Indica or
Indian hemp, and I found out all about the effects
of hashish. Yes, I thought these amateur assassins were innocent
enough only a club to experiment with hasheish, for with
a moderate dose, the sensations are wonderful and well worth trying.
But there's more in this than that. What is Bymer
up to? That's what I want to know. Is he
really unconscious now? Veleeska asked, watching the prostrate form of
the lieutenant as he lay, flushed and breathing but otherwise inert.
Not really. He may be dimly aware that we are here,
but his will is gone. He won't speak until he
rises to the level of volition again. It's a sort
of double consciousness, a rhythmic process of alternate sinking into
apathy where he sees visions, and rising into full consciousness
when he can talk. For a moment, I wish I
knew what dose he had the enter about three minutes.
I tried hasheesh when I was in college, but I
took such an overdose the last time that I have
dreaded to use it again. The lieutenant now began to mutter,
as if talking in his sleep. I'm tottering on the
tops of tall pendulums. The world is full of spiralated mucilages.
Lovely color in a tunnel now twisting, turning, violet, green, orange, floating,
floating like a spirit, tops of tropic trees. Suddenly, he
gasped and sat up, staring hard at them. What did
I say? What was it? Quick before I go off again,
I was saying something. Find the drawer, Astro suggested, leaning
to him, draw draw What was it? Drawings? He exclaimed,
Blimer wants the drawings, for God's sake, help me. I'm
losing it again. Drawings. What is it about? Drawings? Where
did you put them? Drawings? Yes, under the mat. His
eyes closed, Astro tried again under the mat in the
little room. The lieutenant stared stupidly. I forget, Matt. That
meant something. I can't get it. Wait till I come
up again. All snaky now like live wires, pink and green. Ah.
The rest was inaudible. The moment he had again succumbed
to the effects of the drug, Astro sprang to the window.
He paused there to say, sharply, Buymer is trying to
get some of the lieutenant's navy drawings. That's evident, and
has given Cameron a big dose of hashish to keep
him quiet till the papers can be found. I think
Cameron must have suspected it and has hidden the blueprints
or whatever they are. I'm going to go through that
bedroom and see if they're under the mat. You wait here.
He is likely to be unconscious for two or three
minutes more now, and I'll just have time with that.
He had leaped out on the roof and was off.
The Lieutenant still muttered in a whisper so low that
Vealeska could make out nothing. She went to the window
just as astro reappeared. No mat, nothing but a carpet
Buymer must have got away with him. You'll have to
get after him, Veleska while I pull the lieutenant through.
If I know anything about hashish, he's had a terrific
dose and is going to have the worst case of
nausea he ever had in his life. I took a
look at those Hasheish sandwiches. They were fairly loaded with
the stuff. His first voyage wasn't a circumstance to the sea.
Sickness he'll have in about happen. You get right out
to Bymer's place and see what you can do with him.
As Bleska threw on her furs, the Lieutenant was beginning
to rouse again as She slipped out of the door
and ran downstairs. He sat up on the bed, his
eyes glassy, his fists clenched. The effort he was making
to gain possession of his mental faculties was evident in
his writhing mouth and wild, staring eyes. What was it,
he demanded. It's all right, said Astro. Buymer has the drawings,
but we'll get them for you. He turned with a
glass of water on the table. The lieutenant clutched his
arm in a fierce grip. God's, he cried, help me.
The papers were secret plans for fire control. Man, it's
ruined for me. You must drink this first of all,
Astro replied, holding the glass to the man's lips. It's
an emetic. We must get this hemp out of your
stomach before you can recover. It was too late. The
lieutenant dropped back, now as rigid as a marble statue,
only his wild eyes moving. He spoke painfully through his
clenched teeth. Oh God, he murmured, take it away. I
can't drink it. I'm going through hell. His brow was
furrowed with tense lines as he fought with the deathly
nausea that was working in him. Astro put down the
glass and waited. It was evident that nothing could help now,
and the drug, which had thoroughly impregnated the man's system,
must work off its own effects. It works so so fast.
All black now, Oh god, I'm afraid, afraid. He began
to moan. You're all right, there's no danger. You're just
a little sick, that's all. I'm dying. It's no use
tell Violet I'm dead, don't you see, man, I'm dall ready.
The world is full of spiralated mucilages. That's the inner
secret of death. Spiral. I'm whirling through space dead. Astro smiled.
It was he knew a common symptom of an overdose
of cannabis indica. There was, as he said, no danger.
He waited for the crisis, attending to his patient like
a trained nurse. For a while, the moaning continued. Then
Cameron began to curse wildly, like a man with the
delirium tremens. Then of a sudden, he sat up in
bed and the convulsion came. His outraged stomach revolted at
the burden it had to bear. During this, Astro waited
on him kindly, and when the active stage of nausea
had passed. He laid the lieutenant back on the bed
and waited till he sank into a natural sleep. Then
he took a small book from his pocket and began
to read. For half an hour, he read the little
volume of the Morte d'arteur. For another half hour, he
sat in a brown study, his eyes fixed on the
pattern in the worn carpet. There was a zigzag figure
in it, which resembled the letter M. The lieutenant moaned
in his sleep and felt under his bed mechanically with
one hand. Astro's eyes followed him. Then, with his face
suddenly illumined, he rose quietly, threw up the window, and
passed out on the roof. In less than five minutes,
he returned with a smile on his lips. He took
up the book again and began reading. It was after
midnight when Vealeska returned. In great disappointment. She took off
her coat and looked sadly at the lieutenant, who was
now sleeping peacefully. It was no use, she said, Her
Bim wasn't in, and no one knew when to expect him.
I waited as long as I dared, for I hated
to come back unsuccessful. It was too bad. I was
so stupid as to send you away out there, said
Astro quietly. I should have taken time to think it
over first. It came to me an hour after you
had left. Here are the blueprints safe and untouched? Oh,
she exclaimed joyously. Did he tell you where they were
after I left? No? Before you left? Didn't you hear
him under the mat? But I thought you looked and
found none there, my dear, said Astro, with a whimsical
expression on his face. You should learn to concentrate, to
focus your subconscious mind upon itself, the psychic state of receptivity. Oh, bother,
Leska exclaimed, Where were they if they weren't under the mat?
Under the mattress? He answered? The lieutenant sat up, now
fully recovered, and looked at the two. Astro handed him
the blueprints. He grasped them exultantly. For a while. He
lay weakly looking at them, saying nothing. Astro put on
his overcoat and helped Veleska into her wraps. Just before
he opened the door, he turned and said, I don't
think I need give you any advice, Lieutenant. Go to
sleep now and you'll be all right in the morning.
If you have gone through what I did the last
time I was an assassin, there is no danger of
your ever trying it again. I think that Miss Mannering
needn't know about this. Certainly I shall not tell her.
What does she know? Did she send you to help me,
the lieutenant asked anxiously. She asked my advice, that's all.
Unfortunately she saw the name assassins. But I think you
can explain that easily enough. If you don't care to
confess the truth, how can I explain it, Cameron said, thoughtfully?
Why tell her that the club meant to kill time,
said Astro, and that at that you are a tolerably
successful assassin. End of the Assassin's Club.