“I AM glad,” declared Tellert, “that you have referred to Professor Jark as eccentric. The word describes him exactly. I made a mistake, Mr. Arnaud, in attempting to promote the man’s invention. I am afraid that it is going to prove a bad venture. One of the very few with which I have been associated.”
“The invention is not satisfactory?”
“I am afraid not. As yet, I have not informed my clients — such as Mr. Lowberry — because I still hold to the hope that my opinion may be wrong. But I have positively decided against interesting any new investors in the proposition.”
“Frankly put, Mr. Tellert.”
The promoter drew himself up proudly behind his desk. His eyes were straight, his manner was direct.
“I believe in frankness, Mr. Arnaud,” he asserted. “That method of dealing has been responsible for my success. Therefore, I feel that you are entitled to a full explanation of the circumstances involving Professor Jark. It is possible — as I mentioned before — that his idea may be as good as I once thought it was.
“Should such prove to be the case, I should certainly recommend your investing in it. So I consider it good policy to give you a full account of the matter, that you may be able to judge it properly at some future date.”
Tellert pressed a button. A stenographer entered. Tellert called for the Jark files. The girl left and reappeared in less than one minute, bringing a folder of papers and letters. Tellert began to talk again, referring to the data as he spoke.
“Professor Jark,” he stated, “first came to me with news of a new device that he had invented. He termed it the disintegrating ray. Fundamentally, it was an electrical process through which he could reduce the component parts of any solid substance that came within its path.
“Jark, as you doubtless know, is an electrical wizard. He gave me a demonstration with a model of his invention. The bowl-shaped projector which he used did have the quality of melting, or destroying, crude bricks, blocks of cinders, and certain alloys.
“Commercially, the idea had two possibilities. Built on a large scale, it would offer a means of demolishing buildings and other structural objects. It might be used in quarrying, or in other projects. Apparently, it afforded a cheap and efficient method of doing away with certain old and expensive mechanical processes.
“But Jark needed funds to continue with the invention. In its present form, it could not do the work that must be expected of it. The reduction of solid objects was slow; and in most instances, a failure. But the principle was present. It was logical that Jark — given opportunity — could make the device accomplish marvels.”
Tellert made new reference to his papers. He brought out certain letters and laid them to one side. Then he resumed his discussion of the invention itself.
“ANOTHER possibility that Jark presented,” stated Tellert, “was the stepping up of the device to produce what he called an atomic gun. He claimed that with this device he could project a ray several miles, destroying all objects in its path.
“He spoke of the atomic gun as a war weapon. He pictured squadrons of airplanes dematerializing under the withering effect of his machine. He talked of melting battleships. Such outlandish statements worried me. Nevertheless, I was willing to concede that the atomic gun, in modified form, might be a possibility of the future.
“I provided the funds, fifty thousand dollars for experimentation, which I received from interested clients. Jark declared that the amount would be more than ample to perfect the disintegrating ray machine to a point where it would be commercially satisfactory.
“But all the while, Mr. Arnaud, he persisted in his desire to develop an atomic gun. He could not think in sane terms, or let us say” — Tellert smiled — “in sound business terms. The time came when the preliminary funds were almost exhausted. It was then that I received this letter.”
The promoter passed a typewritten sheet to The Shadow. It was signed with a ragged scrawl that represented the signature of Professor Baldridge Jark. While The Shadow was reading the letter, Tellert added a carbon copy of his own reply; then passed over more sheets.
“You see,” explained Tellert, “I write Jark quite frequently, asking for reports on the progress that he was making. It was in reply to one of my usual letters that he again sidetracked mention of the disintegrating ray machine in order to discuss the merits of the atomic gun.
“Apparently — from his inferences — the disintegrating ray had already reached its proper point; but he wanted to drop it. His wonderful gun was a reality; and because it was so amazing, he could deal no longer with private interests. All of his creations must be offered to the government.”
“He mentions here,” remarked The Shadow, “that he would insist that the investors be reimbursed.”
“Yes,” agreed Tellert, “but how? Only one way would be possible: through a government appropriation. And when? No one could tell. Furthermore, my clients did not invest with the understanding that they would simply be reimbursed.
“The agreement with Jark — I have it here — was a fair one. If the disintegrating ray should gain its required intensity, it would become the property of a corporation in which the investors and the professor would have interest.
“I replied with an indignant letter,” asserted the promoter. “I told Jark what I thought. Perhaps I put it strong, Mr. Arnaud, but I believe that I read correctly between the lines of Jark’s own letter. The progress that he claimed sounded doubtful. It looked as though he had decided to try some dodge. His reply stated that he was overworked; that he intended to go away on a vacation.”
Tellert indicated Jark’s last letter with a nudge of his thumb. Then, leaning forward on his desk, he spoke in troubled tone.
“I FELT that I had been harsh with the old man,” he declared. “His letter indicated that his opinion might be changing. I thought that he was coming to his senses. I felt sure that he would write me later, at least to tell me when he expected to leave New York.
“No further letter came. Yesterday afternoon — that was about a week after he wrote me — I telephoned the professor, only to find that the service had been disconnected. I sent a messenger to his home. I received the amazing report that the house was deserted.
“I could not believe it at first. I went there myself, to make sure. The house was open; I entered and found it practically barren. Without a word to me Professor Jark had flown, carrying thousands of dollars worth of equipment, all of which had been provided through the investors who had shown trust in me.”
Tellert sank back in his chair. He drew a silk handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his florid brow. It was plain that the promoter saw himself in a most embarrassing dilemma; one that would be difficult to explain to the men who had invested in Professor Jark’s invention.
The Shadow arose. He passed the papers back to Tellert. Everything that the promoter had said; all this data from the files, bore testimony to Bruce Duncan’s statements regarding Professor Jark’s strange behavior.
“Would it be possible,” he asked, in the monotone of Arnaud, “that Professor Jark could have decided to conduct his future experiments in some other place? Where he could not be found? So that he would experience no interference from you?”
“I thought of that,” responded Tellert, also rising. “But there is one factor in the way. The matter of money. Jark has very few remaining funds.”
“Could he have acquired some elsewhere?”
Tellert looked startled.
“By George!” he ejaculated. “That might be it! Do you know, I was thinking that the old codger had merely worked a mild swindle; or that he had run away, seeking to cover failure. But it might be that he is playing a double game.