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Newspaper Page Text
-tu ayiw ij f iirnip'Vr''iivfiir,mt'
its victims upon its altars. You are
the victim, Mary."
Professor Singleton sat bolt up
right in his chair. For a moment he
had forgotten his researches. He
looked around him. His eye fell upon
a Malay kriss hanging upon the wall,
which a friend had sent him from
Borneo. It was long, with a keen,
jagged edge, waved like the edge of
a bread knife. If such a weapon as
that were plunged into .a man's heart
The professor's eye returned me
chanically to the microscope. The
spiranthea was emerging from its
pupa. Undoubtedly this proved his
contention. The existence of a
winged form among such micro
scopic creatures would revolutionize
biology. He had proved it. A little
longer half an hour of watching
"How long will you suffer in this
way, Mary? You are fifteen years
younger than he. You have made a
ghastly error but why should it ruin
"It shall not," Professor Singleton
heard his "wife whisper.
The professor rose noiselessly out
of his chair. He took down the kriss
with trembling fingers. Once it was
in his hand he felt a, strange strength
which seemed to flow into his fingers
from the steel, into his blood, renew
ing its power. His muscles quivered
as he bent his arm. Then, holding
the weapon, he hesitated.
He seemed to realize In that mo
ment that all his future was at stake.
On the one hand was his treasured
science. If he left the microscope for
ten minutes the conditions might
never again recur and all would be
wasted. On the other well, he was
a man after all.
The voices seemed louder now and
shamelessly indifferent Professor
Singleton crept stealthily to the part
ly opened door. The room beyond
was in darkness. His foot creaked
upon the boards but neither seemed
aware of his presence,
j "I love you," he heard reiterated
through bis maddened brain, and he
was standing in the room now, and
still the sounds continued. They
seemed to elude him, traveling from
corner to corner. The professor
lunged forward, his outstretched
hands encountered a soft object with
flying draperies, and with a yell he
thrust the kriss upward, turned it,
and thrust again. Then he fell sense
less upon the floor.
Morning a quiver of sunlight
voices in the room. He opened his
eyes, to find himself lying in bed in
his own house, and his wife bending
"What is it? Where did you come
from?" he muttered, half uncon
scious. "Hush, dear!" Mary whispered.
"The tragedy loomed in his mind,
but dimly, curtained off by the black
unconsciousness from which he had
"You have been ill, dear," said
"George Street Where is he?" he
"George? My dear, don't' you re
member that he sailed for the Philip
pines a month ago three weeks be
fore you were taken ill?"
"What did I do? I killed some
one?" "You were found lying upon the
floor of the living room. You had
taken Mr. Humphreys' kriss and dug
a hole in the armchair. You must
have lain there for hours before I
came home and found you. I thought
you were in your laboratory."
That reminded him. "The micro
scope!" he exclaimed. "I must go.
How long have I been ill?"
"About a week, dearest"
The "professor sank back groan
ing. A week! Fifty generations of
the spiranthea must have been born
and died, and there would be years of
patient work before he could renew
the conditions which had existed be
fore the illusion dragged him from
He remembered all now: George's