Barth followed Darring’s gaze. He recognized two men as reporters. He smiled, for he knew them to be newshawks of little consequence. Evidently the morning newspapers had not counted on Lessep’s experiment as good meat for a story.
“Warlock has faith in Lessep’s inventive genius,” explained Darring, in an undertone. “Personally, I think the professor is a faker. He sold impractical turbines to Centralized Power. That is why I am here to-night.
“I hope that Lessep succeeds in this experiment, whatever it is. Warlock calls it ‘solid devisualization’ or something of the sort. The term is new to me. My sympathies are with Warlock, for the failure of Centralized Power has been a blow to him. If he can prove that Lessep is a capable inventor, it will strengthen his position with the stockholders.
“As for the other matter, Warlock has probably told you all the details of the case. Unfortunately, it offers no opportunity for prosecution. Unless” — he broke off, while still keeping his wary eye upon the corner — “ah, here come the reporters. Probably to interview you, commissioner.”
Darring was right. The two reporters had sauntered from the corner. In the accepted journalistic fashion they introduced themselves to the commissioner and began to press him for statements regarding Professor Lessep. Barth pleaded ignorance and replied that he would talk after the experiment.
At that moment, the rear door opened; Professor Lessep stood framed in the brilliant light of the laboratory. Wearing a white gown and beckoning with a scrawny finger, he invited his guests to enter the room beyond.
The reporters headed in that direction. Barth looked for Cranston. Finding his friend close by, the commissioner joined him and they entered the lab.
KEEN eyes gazed from the immobile countenance of Lamont Cranston. The Shadow was prompt to note the arrangement of this room which they had entered. Whatever his reputation, whether genius or madman, Professor Melrose Lessep had certainly fitted up a most remarkable laboratory.
The room was some thirty feet in length. At the near end, where the group had entered, were a dozen folding chairs, arranged against the wall. Beyond were numerous contrivances. Some looked like electric motors of odd design. Others were light projectors of curious shape. One machine appeared to be a squatty camera.
The windows — on the right side of the room — were shuttered. Illumination came from bluish bulbs in the ceiling. At the far end of the room were two doors, both opened. One showed an extension from the rear hallway; the other revealed a little office at the right.
Between the doors, and just beyond the center of the room, was the most striking object in the laboratory. This was an upright cabinet, more than six feet high and three feet square, mounted upon a square base that measured five feet in each direction.
Most curious was the fact that cabinet and base were both constructed almost entirely of glass. The framework alone was of chromium-plated metal. It formed a skeleton in which the sheets of plate glass were set.
The square base, metal rimmed, was mounted upon four slender legs of shining metal. This raised the bottom of the cabinet two feet above the floor. The professor, beckoning, invited all comers to inspect the apparatus. The two reporters led the march.
“Be careful,” warned Lessep, in his crackly tone. He opened the glass door that formed the front of the cabinet. “You may step inside if you please; but remember that the substance is breakable. Be careful.”
While the examination was going on, a young man came from the little office and took his stand beside Professor Lessep. Steadily, with almost indifferent gaze, he looked about at the persons present. This was Miles Crofton. Like the professor, he was wearing a white gown.
“My assistant, Mr. Crofton,” introduced Lessep. “He is to play an important part in to-night’s experiment.
Seat yourselves, gentlemen. Please. We are delayed a trifle already. Please be seated.”
When the group had obeyed the injunction, the professor stood for a moment with quick-blinking eyes.
Then, leaving Crofton by the cabinet, he went to the door that led into the hall. He closed it with a clang that revealed its metal surface. Then, solemnly, Lessep drew a big bolt that locked the door.
He walked to the door of the little office, closed it, and shot a similar bolt. Then he stalked to the door through which the throng had come from the parlor. He closed this barrier, showing a metal inner surface, and pressed home another bolt.
“We must not be disturbed,” chuckled the professor, with a peculiar smile. “That is why I have made the doors fast bolted. When I work herein, with my capable assistant, we keep the doors fast bolted that none may enter.”
The professor walked back to the cabinet, where Crofton was awaiting him. At that moment, a telephone bell began to ring. The sound, coming from beyond the door that led to the little office, was barely audible.
“Shall I answer it, professor?” questioned Crofton.
“No!” returned Lessep, testily. “I do not wish disturbance. Let it continue to ring. It will stop soon. We must make ready with my experiment.”
CROFTON nodded. He and the professor moved two different machines up beside the cabinet.
Looking toward the walls, the witnesses saw a dozen different floor plugs from which current could be supplied. Crofton produced several lengths of wire, each with plugs on both ends. The professor began making attachments. He needed more wires. Crofton brought them.
The telephone ceased ringing before Lessep had completed his arrangements. Wires ran from floor plugs to machines. Others stretched from one machine to corners of the cabinet. The rest were left dangling from the second machine, for later use.
Nodding busily, Lessep decided that everything was ready. He spoke to Crofton. The young man removed his white robe. Underneath, he was wearing an outfit that looked like an aviator’s garb, except for its color, which was black. As Crofton stepped into the cabinet, it was apparent that his shoes were fitted with heavy rubber soles.
The professor produced a helmet. Crofton donned it. Then he put on dark brown gloves, made of thick rubber. Cautiously, he stepped into the exact center of the cabinet. The professor closed the glass door.
The observers could see the man inside.
Lessep pressed a switch on the hooked-up machine. Crackly sounds came from the glass walls of the cabinet. Flickers of light flashed from the connections. The sides of the cabinet and the glass base began to turn misty.
There was something insidious in Professor Lessep’s manner as the old man turned toward his audience.
A profound hush had been created; now it was broken only by the buzz of the motor and the dying crackles from the glass. In a high pitched, fanatical tone, the professor began to speak.
“I have found it!” he exclaimed. “The secret of devisualization! Through this experiment I shall make a solid appear as a vapor. A solid — a living solid!
“Look to that cabinet. What have you seen there? First you have seen glass. Then, inside, a man. What do you see now? A vapor — like steam — a vapor from the air.”
The walls of the cabinet were frosting. Crofton’s form was almost obscured from view. Chuckling, the professor waited until the misted glass had totally hidden his assistant. Then he consulted a clock dial upon the machine.
“You see vapor,” clucked Lessep, turning to the silent group at the end of the room. “That vapor is air, which I have made to show itself by the application of heat. You understand? You see air — which you could not see before — and later you will see that air no longer.