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Pharaoh's Broker

Ellsworth Douglass




  Produced by Greg Weeks, George Snoga, Stephen Blundell andthe Online Distributed Proofreading Team athttps://www.pgdp.net

  PHARAOH'S BROKER

  BEING THE VERY REMARKABLE EXPERIENCES IN ANOTHER WORLD OF ISIDOR WERNER

  (WRITTEN BY HIMSELF)

  EDITED, ARRANGED, AND WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY ELLSWORTH DOUGLASS

  [Device]

  LONDON C. ARTHUR PEARSON LIMITED HENRIETTA STREET W.C. 1899

  Transcriber's Note:

  Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. Obsolete spellings have been retained. The oe ligature is represented by [oe].

  CONTENTS

  PAGE INTRODUCTION: ELUSIVE TRUTH 7

  BOOK I. SECRETS OF SPACE

  CHAPTER I. DR. HERMANN ANDERWELT 19 II. THE GRAVITY PROJECTILE 27 III. STRUCTURE OF THE PROJECTILE 37 IV. WHAT IS ON MARS? 48 V. FINAL PREPARATIONS 57 VI. FAREWELL TO EARTH 67 VII. THE TERRORS OF LIGHT 81 VIII. THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW 91 IX. TRICKS OF REFRACTION 99 X. THE TWILIGHT OF SPACE 108 XI. TELLING THE TIME BY GEOGRAPHY 117 XII. SPACE FEVER 126 XIII. THE MYSTERY OF A MINUS WEIGHT 141

  BOOK II. OTHER WORLD LIFE

  I. WHY MARS GIVES A RED LIGHT 157 II. THE TERROR BIRDS 170 III. TWO OF US AGAINST THE ARMIES OF MARS 182 IV. THE STRANGE BRAVERY OF MISS BLANK 192 V. ZAPHNATH, RULER OF THE KEMI 204 VI. THE IRON MEN FROM THE BLUE STAR 220 VII. PARALLEL PLANETARY LIFE 240 VIII. A PLAGIARIST OF DREAMS 249 IX. GETTING INTO THE CORNER 260 X. HUMANITY ON PTAH 275 XI. REVOLUTIONIST AND EAVESDROPPER 283 XII. THE DOCTOR DISAPPEARS 292 XIII. THE REVELATION OF HOTEP 304

  INTRODUCTION

  Elusive Truth

  It was the Chicago _Tribune_ of June 13th, 189-, which contained thisparagraph under the head-line: "Big Broker Missing!"

  "The friends of Isidor Werner, a young man prominent in Board of Trade circles, are much concerned about him, as he has not been seen for several days. He made his last appearance in the wheat pit as a heavy buyer Tuesday forenoon. That afternoon he left his office at Room 87 Board of Trade, and has not been seen since, nor can his whereabouts be learned. He is six feet two inches high, of athletic build, with black hair and moustache, a regular nose, and an unpronounced Jewish appearance. His age is hardly more than twenty-seven, but he has often made himself felt as a market force on the Board of Trade, where he was well thought of."

  But it was the _Evening Post_ of the same date which prided itself onunearthing the real sensation. A scare-head across the top of a firstpage column read:

  "A PLUNGER'S LAST PLUNGE!"

  "The daring young broker who held the whole wheat market in his hands a few months ago, amassing an independent fortune in three days, but losing most of it gamely on subsequent changes in the market, has made his last plunge. This time he has gone into the cold, kind bosom of Lake Michigan. Isidor Werner evened up his trades in the wheat market last Tuesday forenoon, and then applied for his balance-sheet at a higher clearing house! No trace of him or clue to his whereabouts was found, until the _Evening Post_, on the principle of setting one mystery to solve another, sent its representative to examine a strange steel rocket, discovered half-buried in the sands of Lake Michigan, near Berrien Springs, two days ago. Our reporter investigated this bullet-shaped contrivance and found an opening into it, and within he discovered a scrap of paper on which were written the words: 'Farewell to Earth for ever!' Werner's friends, when interviewed by the _Evening Post_, all positively identified the handwriting of this scrap as his chirography. It is supposed that he took an excursion steamer to St. Joseph, Michigan, last Tuesday or Wednesday afternoon, and walking down the shore toward Berrien Springs, finally threw himself into the Lake. Neither Israel Werner, with whom the dead man lived on Indiana Avenue, nor Patrick Flynn, the chief clerk at his office, can give any reason for the suicide, or explain the exact connection of the infernal machine (if such it be) with the sad circumstance. But they both positively identify the handwriting on the scrap of paper. We have wired our representative to bring the mysterious machine to Chicago; and those who think they may be able to throw any light upon the case, are invited to call at the office of the _Evening Post_ and examine it."

  The _Inter Ocean_ developed a theory that the suicide was only apretended one for the purpose of fraudulently collecting life insurancepolicies. It was cited that Isidor Werner had insured his life for morethan $100,000, and this in spite of the fact that he had no family,parents, brothers or sisters to provide for; but had taken the policiesin favour of his uncle, Israel Werner, and in case of his prior death,in favour of a cousin, Ruth Werner. This theory gained but littlecurrency among those who knew the man best, and although the insurancecompanies prepared to resist payment of the policies to the bitter end,yet, as time went on, no one attempted to prove his death, nor to claimthe handsome sum which would result from it. Moreover, Israel Werner andhis daughter Ruth, the beneficiaries under the policies, persisted inbelieving that their relative was yet alive, though they could give nogood reasons for so believing, nor explain his disappearance.

  In its issue of June 15th the _Tribune_ scouted the idea of suicidealtogether. It had a better and more plausible theory of the case.Isidor Werner had a large sum of money in the Corn Exchange Bank,drawing interest by the year. In case of either a premeditated or apretended suicide he would most certainly have withdrawn, and made somedisposition of, this money. In fact, he had, on the day of hisdisappearance, drawn out five thousand dollars of it in gold. For thiscoin the _Tribune_ believed he had been murdered, and that they had aclue to the murderer. The vanished man had several times been seen inthe company of a suspicious German, of intelligent but erraticappearance. This queer character lived in a hotbed of socialism on theWest Side, and the young broker was supposed to be in his power. Infact, it was known for certain that the erratic German had secured alarge sum of money from him, and that Werner had visited his rooms inthe slums of the West Side more than once. Moreover, the two had made asecret railway journey together two days before the disappearance, andon the very day that Werner was last seen, the German had fled hislodgings without giving any explanation of his departure to his fewacquaintances. When the _Tribune_ reporter called at these lodgings, thelandlord still had in his possession a gold eagle, with which the Germanhad paid his rent, and in the grate of the deserted room were thecharred remains of burnt papers. One of these was a rather firm, crispcinder, and had been a blue-print of a drawing. As nearly as could bejudged, from its shrivelled state, it appeared to be the plan of someinfernal machine. The name of the fugitive was Anderwelt, and he calledhimself a doctor. Further investigations were being carried on by the_Tribune_, which promised to prove beyond a doubt that he was themurderer of Isidor Werner.

  But the _Evening Post_ still held the palm for sensations, and I copyverbatim from its columns of June 15th:

  "It is rare that a newspaper, dealing strictly in facts, has to record anything so closely bordering on the supernatural and mysterious as that which we mus
t now relate. The following facts, however, are vouched for by the entire editorial department of the _Evening Post_, and many of them by several hundred witnesses. We begin by apologising to the hundreds who have called at this office and have been unable to see the Werner infernal machine. We gave it that name in a thoughtless jest, but its subsequent actions have more than justified the title. Our reporter brought it from Berrien Springs, as directed, and deposited it in the court of the _Evening Post_ building. As is quite generally known, this court is a central well in the building, affording ventilation and light to the interior offices, from every one of which can be seen what goes on in it. The well is spanned by a glass roof above the eighth storey. In this court, at eleven o'clock this morning, the entire editorial and a large part of the business staff of this paper, repaired, to examine the mysterious rocket-like thing. A little lid was opened, showing the recess where the tell-tale scrap of paper, written by Werner, had been found. Inside there seemed to be a pair of peculiar battery cells, whose exact nature was hidden by the outer shell. Outside there were several thumb-screws, which were turned both ways without any apparent effect. While making this examination the machine had been set up on its lower end, and when it was again laid down it _refused to lie on its side_, but persisted in _standing erect of its own accord_. This was the more wonderful because the lower end was not flat, so that it would afford a good base, but was pointed. More than a hundred people saw it stand up on this sharp tip, saw it lift up light weights which were placed upon it to hold it on its side, and saw it quickly right itself when it was placed vertically but wrong end down.

  "Thinking this queer property had been contributed to it in some way by loosening the thumb-screws, they were next all set down as tightly as possible, to see if this tendency to erectness would be lost. Then, to the astonishment of every one in the court, and of several hundred people who were by this time watching from the interior windows, this infernal machine, without any explosion, burning of gases, or any apparent force acting upon it, slowly _rose from the ground_, and then, travelling more swiftly, _shot through the roof of glass_ and vanished from sight! Nor has the most diligent search enabled us to recover it. Does it possess the secret of Isidor Werner's death?"

  But the Chicago _Herald_ had been working thoroughly and saying littleuntil its issue of June 16th, when it claimed the credit of solving thewhole mystery. Its long article lies before me as I write: There hadbeen no suicide; there had been no murder; there had been no infernalmachine. Doctor Anderwelt was a learned man, and the warm personalfriend of Isidor Werner. Both men had shared the same fate; they mightyet be alive, but they were certainly _at the bottom of Lake Michigantogether_! They were imprisoned there in a sunken submarine boat, whichwas the invention of Doctor Anderwelt, and was built with fundsfurnished by the young broker. The foundryman who had constructed thebig torpedo-shaped contrivance had been interviewed. He knew both men,and they were on the most friendly terms. In a moment of confidenceDoctor Anderwelt had told him the machine was for submarine exploration;had explained the four-winged rudder, which would make it dive into thewater, rise to the surface, or direct it to right or to left. Moreover,there were closed living compartments, around which were chamberscontaining a supply of air. He himself had pumped them full ofcompressed air, and it was so arranged that foul air could be let outwhen used and new air admitted. When all had been finished thefoundryman had shipped the new invention, _via_ the Michigan SouthernRailway, to the shore of the Lake near Whiting, Indiana. Next the_Herald_ had sought and found the conductor whose train had hauled it toWhiting. He remembered switching off the flat-car there, and he wassurprised on his return trip next morning to see the heavy thing alreadyunloaded and gone.

  Undoubtedly, the two men had made an experiment with the diving boatunder the surface of the water; and its failure to operate as hoped hadresulted in its sinking to the bottom, with the two men imprisoned init. On no other hypothesis could its disappearance, and that of the twomen, be so plausibly accounted for. But as they had stores of air, andprobably of food, there was a possibility that they were still aliveinside the thing in the bottom of the Lake! Only three days had elapsedsince it had been launched, and the _Herald_ was willing to head asubscription to drag the Lake and send divers to search for and rescuethe two unfortunate men!

  All this serves to illustrate the untiring energy of newspaperinvestigation, as well as the remarkable fertility of journalisticimagination; for none of these clever theories hit at the real truth, orexplained the correct bearing of the astonishing facts which thenewspapers had so industriously unearthed.

  And if the mystery of the disappearance of Isidor Werner was uncommonlydeep and wonderful, the explanation and final solution of it is not lessmarvellous. After a delay of more than six years, it has just now comeinto my hands whole and perfect. It is in no less satisfactory form thana complete manuscript written by the very hand of Isidor Werner! I camestrangely into possession of it, and it relates a story of interest andwonder, compared with which the mystery of his disappearance pales intoinsignificance. But the reader may judge for himself, for here followsthe story exactly as he wrote it. Upon his manuscript I have bestowedhardly more than a proof-reader's technical revision.

  ELLSWORTH DOUGLASS.

  BOSTON, U.S.A., _December 13th, 1898._

  BOOK I

  Secrets of Space