The Sign at Six

  CHAPTER VII

  A WORLD OF GHOSTS

  A deathly stillness had all at once fallen like a blanket, blotting outMcCarthy's violent speech. The rattling typewriter in the next room wasabruptly stilled. The roar of the city died as a living creature is cut bythe sword--all at once, without the transitionary running down of mostsilences. Absolute dense stillness, like that of a sea calm at night, tookthe place of the customary city noises. In his astonishment McCarthythrust a heavy inkstand off the edge of his desk. It hit the floor,spilled, rolled away; but noiselessly, as would the inkstand in a movingpicture.

  To have one's world thus suddenly stricken dumb, to be transported orallyfrom the roar of a city to the peace of a woodland or a becalmed sea iscertainly astonishing enough.

  But this silence was particularly terrifying to both McCarthy and JackWarford, though neither would have been able to analyze the reason for itsweirdness. For silence is in reality a composite of many lesser noises. Ina woodland almost inaudible insects hum, breezes blow, leaves and grassesrustle; at sea the tiny waves lap the sides and equally tiny breaths ofair stir the cordage; within the confines of the human shell the merephysical acts of breathing, swallowing, winking, the mere physical factsof the circulation of the blood, the beating of the heart, produce eachits sound.

  Even a man totally deaf feels the subtle influence of these latterphysical phenomena. And underneath all sound, perceptible alike to thosewho can hear and those who can not, are the vibrations that accompanyevery activity of nature as the manifestations of motion or of life. Anordinary deep silence is not so much an absence of sound as an absence ofaccustomed or loud sound. And in that unusual hush often for the firsttime a man becomes acutely aware of the singing of the blood in his ears.

  But this silence was absolute. All these minor sounds had been eliminated.

  For a moment Boss McCarthy stared; then shoved back his chair with aviolent motion, and rose. He was like a shadow on a screen. The filchingfrom the world of one element of its every-day life had unexpectedlyrendered it all phantasmagoric.

  As McCarthy shouted, and no sound came; as he moved from behind his desk,and no jar accompanied his heavy footfall, he appeared to lose blood andsubstance, to become unreal. As no sound issued from his contorted face,So it seemed that no force would follow his blow, were he to deliver one.

  He stumbled forward, dazed and groping as though he were in the dark,instead of merely in silence; a striking example in the uncertainty of hismovements of how closely our senses depend on one another.

  Jack spoke twice, then closed his lips in a grim straight line. He heldhis elbows close to his sides, and looked ready for anything.

  A look of mild triumph illumined Percy Darrow's usually languidcountenance. He stepped quickly to the wall, and turned the button ofthe incandescent globe. The light instantly glowed. At this he noddedtwice more. From his pocket he drew a note-book and pencil, wrote init a few words, and handed it to the dazed and uncertain boss.

  "I was right," Darrow had scrawled. "This proves it. It's by no means theend. Better be good."

  McCarthy's bulldog courage had recovered from its first daze. He began tosee that this visitation was not entirely personal, but extended also tohis two companions. This relieved his mind, for he had suspected somestrange new apoplexy.

  "Did you expect this?" he wrote.

  Darrow nodded.

  Together the three ghosts left the phantom office, and glided down thephantom halls. Other ghosts in various stages of alarm were alreadymaking their way down the stairs. Some of them spoke, but no soundcame. One woman, her eyes frightened, reached out furtively to touchher neighbor, apparently to assure herself of his reality. Urged by anuncontrollable impulse, a man thrust his hand through the ground glassof an office door. The glass shivered, and crashed to the tile floor.The pieces broke--silently. It was as though the man had been thefigure in a cinematograph illusion. He stared at his cut and bleedinghand. The woman who had touched the man suddenly threw back her headand screamed. They could see her eyes roll back, her face changecolor, could discern the straining of her throat. No sound came.

  At this a panic seized them. They rushed down the stairs, clambering overone another, pushing, scrambling, falling. A mob of a hundred men foughtfor precedence. Blows were struck. No faintest murmur of tumult came fromtheir futile heat. It might have been the riot of a wax-works in a vacuum.

  They fell into the lower hallway, and fought their way to the street, andstood there dazed and staring, a strange, wild-eyed, white-faced, bloodycrew. The hurrying avenue stopped to gaze on them curiously, gatheringcompact in a mob that blocked all traffic. Policemen pushed their way inand began roughly to question--and to question in real audible words.

  But for the space of a full minute these people stood there staringupward, drinking in the blessed sound that poured in on them lavishly fromthe life of the street; drinking deep gulps of air, as though air hadlacked.

  Darrow, and with him Jack Warford, had descended more leisurely. Beforeleaving the building Darrow placed the flat of his hands over his ears,and motioned Jack to do the same. Thus they missed the stunning effect ofreceiving the world of noise all at once; as a man goes to a bright lightfrom a dark room. Furthermore, Darrow returned several times from thesound to the silence, trying to determine where the line of demarcationwas drawn. Then, motioning to Jack, he began methodically to make his waythrough the crowd.

  This proved to be by no means an easy task. Rumors of all sorts wereafoot. Some bold spirits were testing a new sensation by venturing intothe corridor of the building. The police were undecided as to what shouldbe done. One or two reporters were already at hand, investigating.McCarthy, his assurance returned, was conversing earnestly with a policecaptain.

  Percy Darrow, closely followed by Jack, managed to worm his way throughthe crowd, and finally debouched on Broadway.

  "What was it? What struck us?" demanded Jack. "Do you know?"

  "I can guess; in essence," said Percy. "I was pretty sure after lastevening's trouble; but this underscores it, proves it. Also, it opens theway."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Along the lines of these phenomena there are two more things possible.Possible, I say. They might be called certain, were we dealing only withtheory; but there is still some doubt how the practical side of it maywork out."

  "I suppose you know what you're talking about," said Jack resignedly. "Idon't."

  "You don't need to, yet. But here's what I mean. If my theory is correct,we are likely to be surprised still further."

  Jack ruminated; then his engaging young face lighted up with a smile.

  "All right," said he; "I'm enlisted for the war. What have you got to dowith it?"

  "I'll explain this much," said Darrow; "more I'll not tell at present,even to you. If one breath should get out that any one suspected--well,this is a man-hunt."

  "Who's the man?"

  "An enemy of McCarthy."

  "Whom you are going to find for him?"

  "Perhaps."

  "And you were putting up that job for me as part of your pay!"

  Percy Darrow smiled slowly.

  "As all of my pay--from McCarthy," said he. "I was just bedeviling him."

  Jack Warford started to say something, but the scientist cut him short.

  "This is bigger than McCarthy," he said decisively. "We are the onlypeople in this city who suspect a human origin of these phenomena. Othermen are yet working, and will continue to work, on the supposition thatthey are the results of some unbalanced natural conditions. The phenomenaare, as yet, harmless. It will not greatly injure the city, once it isprepared, to be without electricity or without sound for limited periods.I doubt very much whether the Unknown can continue these phenomena forlonger than limited periods. But conceivably this man may become a peril.He has, if I reason correctly, four arrows in his quiver; the fourth isdangerous. It is our duty to find him before he uses the fourth arrow--ifindeed he has discovered the
method of doing so. That is always in doubt."

  Jack's eyes were shining.

  "Bully!" he cried.

  "He may conceivably possess the power to launch the fourth and dangerousarrow, but may withhold it unless he believes himself suspected or closepressed. His probable mental processes are obscure. At present he directshimself solely against McCarthy." Percy Darrow had been thinking aloud,and realized it with a smile. "This is one of your jobs, fellowdetective," said he. "You've got to be a mark for me to think at."

  "I wish you'd think a little more clearly," observed Jack. "It soundsinteresting, but jumbled. I feel the way I did when I began to readGreek."

  "McCarthy's incidental," observed Darrow in his detached tone.

  "Eh?"

  "Oh, I thought we might as well worry McCarthy by asking him for that jobon the side. It's amusing."

  "What do you want me to do?" asked Jack.

  "This," said Darrow, with an unusual rapidity of utterance. "See thatthick-set, quick man in gray clothes? He's a policeman. In a moment he'llarrest me."

  "Arrest you--why?" demanded Jack, in tones of great astonishment.

  "I reason that McCarthy will come to that conclusion. He is beginning tothink I have something to do with what he calls his annoyances. I saw itin his eyes. This last curious manifestation came along too pat. Youremember, it cut off the dressing-down he was going to give me." Darrowchuckled in appreciation. "Didn't the humor of that strike you?"

  "Me? Oh, I was scared," admitted Jack.

  "I want you to go home and tell Helen just what happened in the AtlasBuilding. Do not tell her that I believe the phenomena are due to anyhuman agency. Say simply that if it is repeated, and she happens to bewithin the zone of its influence, to keep calm, and wait. It will pass,and it is not to be feared. Tell her I said so."

  "Lord!" cried Jack. "You don't think it's going to happen again!"

  "Within the next twenty-four hours," said Darrow.

  "Oughtn't we to warn the people?"

  "And let our hidden antagonist know we are aware of his existence?"inquired Darrow.

  "Anything else?"

  "No--yes. Buy a gun. If I bring you into any trouble, I'll see you clear.You understand?"

  "I do."

  "I rely on your being game."

  "To the limit," said Jack. "Here comes your friend. Won't this arrest ballthings up? Shall I rustle bail?"

  "No," said Darrow. "I want to think. All I need is all the papers. I'll beout by ten to-morrow morning, sure."

  "Why are you sure of that?"

  "_Because by that hour McCarthy will have disappeared_," said PercyDarrow.

  The man in the gray suit, having finished his scrutiny, lounged forward.

  "You are Mr. Darrow," he stated.

  "Sure I am, my amiable but obvious sleuth," drawled that young man. "Leadon." He nodded a farewell to Jack, and linked his arm in that of theofficer. After a few moments he burst into an irrepressible chuckle.

  "The fat, thick-necked, thick-witted, old fool!" said he.