of these linked his name to that of pretty Mary Howell, while the other intimated that he was a young interne who had been hired by the family as a keeper for the learned scientist. And the local socialites failed completely to accept the real reason for Alan's presence. In this failure lay a deadly menace to the future safety of humanity.
True, there were those who reported having seen Dr. Howell at close range on his infrequent visits to the mainland, always in the company of Alan Winters. They told a weird tale of seeing a strange glitter in the eyes of the scientist, suggesting that this was a sure indication of criminal insanity. And remembering the Indian Legend the story had gained momentum with each passing day. Could it really be that the first part of the Indian Prophecy had been fulfilled—that a white man would live on the Crawling Stone, and that it would be as a place of madness?
But the blasé summer crowd, living in the thrilling, fast moving reality of the present cared not at all for another whose mind may have succumbed to a monomania of scientific thought. For in the serious contemplation of the infinite lies the road to madness. The crowd knew not, and perhaps cared even less, that this man with the warped mind was even then trying to save the world from utter, absolute destruction at its own hands. It may be that the world did not wish to be saved.
With a single week of the season yet remaining, the pleasure seeking summer colony redoubled its efforts to drain to the last drop the cup of pleasure, for Labor Day would mean the return to school and work. A few took time out to tap their heads significantly, as they looked toward the Island of the Crawling Stone, and to laugh at the thought of the lone scientist who labored there in a frenzy of madness, seeking to prove the coming destruction of the world. Why, the man must be daffy to stand alone against the entire scientific world!
Yes, Labor Day would be a red letter day in Science, for on that day impressive ceremonies would mark the official starting of the giant Cosmic Ray absorption generators of General Power Co. The President of the United States would press a button, and the radio would carry a story of the scene and the hum of the huge generators to a waiting world, which waited impatiently for this newly promised emancipation from decades of drudgery.
A dream of centuries was about to be realized, and scientific men labored for its accomplishment in a furor of excitement. Power! And yet more Power! Power for industry,—cheap and unlimited! Power to lessen the hours of labor! Science had achieved the unachievable, and one mad scientist could not change the course of the world! It was unthinkable,—and amusing!
Evening,—and for the first time in weeks Alan Winters had an opportunity to view his summer's work in perspective. The days, and even the nights, had sped swiftly, for the work in Dr. Howell's laboratory had gone on and on, seemingly without end. Together they had labored over strange machines, testing and measuring, ever seeking an answer to show the probable effects of the Cosmic Rays on the laws of the universe.
LACKING the resources of the huge corporation laboratories of the General Power Co. Dr. Howell had struggled on with pitifully inadequate equipment toward a solution he alone
