a hundred thousand of the large degravitors. Directions for assembling and firing them are in the safe, and you, Roger, will see to it that our soldiers and combat planes are equipped with them as soon as possible.
"But enough of explanations. I must go. If I do not return, you, Roger, will know where to find all of my plans, including those for the degravitors. Use them, and arrange for the defense as best you can, without me."
He entered the turret and switched on a tiny, inner light.
"I have your valuable translations, professor," said Ted, "and hope that I may be able to use them to advantage. Goodbye."
"Goodbye, and good luck," echoed both men as he closed the front of his helmet and slammed and fastened the door of the turret.
They watched him as he slowly elevated the upper forward degravitor. When he pressed the button no visible rays shot forth, but in the metal roof toward which it was aimed there suddenly appeared a clean cut hole which was rapidly widened by circumscribing it with the degravitor rays. The metal did not glow as if burned away, but simply disappeared with a quick, scintillating flash wherever the rays touched it.
When the hole had been enlarged sufficiently, Ted waved a last adieu. Then his craft rose gracefully, hung for a moment at a point about a thousand feet above the roof, and disappeared with a burst of terrific speed, traveling in a direction which might be reckoned about 80 degrees to the east of the moon in the plane of the ecliptic.
VIII. DEATH RAYS
A WEEK ELAPSED, after the departure of the young inventor, with no word from Ted. During this time, Roger, busy with the duties of the chief executive, ate and slept in the office of his employer.
Professor Ederson had meanwhile tried nightly to get into communication with the Lunites, but without success.
It was on this, the seventh night, that a terrific storm struck Chicago. Unable to sleep because of the howling wind and terrific peals of thunder, Roger switched on the lights and was about to step to the window when his name was called from the disc of the radiovisiphone.
"Mr. Sanders."
He hurried to the instrument and saw the face of the night operator.
"Yes."
"The President of the United States is calling Mr. Dustin. What shall I do?"
"Mr. Dustin is not in," said Roger, who had shared the secret of his employer's absence only with Professor Ederson. "Let me talk to him."
In an instant the face of President Whitmore appeared on the disc. To his intense surprise, Roger noticed that he wore a fur cap and a great fur coat with the collar turned up. That he was in an intensely cold place was indicated by the visibility of his breath as he spoke and exhaled.
"Where is Mr. Dustin?" were his first words on seeing Roger instead of the man he had called.
"He is not here," replied Roger. "As his assistant, can I be of service to you?"
"You have not answered my question," persisted the President. "Where is Mr. Dustin?"
"I--I promised not to tell," answered Roger. "He left here a week ago in the interests of our country and our allies."
The President frowned.
"You forget, Mr. Sanders," he said, "that this is a war emergency, that the country is on a military basis, and that I am Mr. Dustin's superior officer as well as yours. I demand to know where he is."
Roger was nonplussed. He had told everyone that Ted had gone away on business for the country, leaving them to assume what they pleased in the matter. People had, of course, assumed that he had gone to some other city, and would be back shortly. But the President was within his. rights in demanding to know where he was. Ted, himself, would not have had the right to refuse this demand.
"He left for the moon a week ago," said Roger, "and I have heard nothing from him since."
"What!"
The President appeared dumfounded.
"How did he go? Who went with him?"
"He went alone in a small interplanetary vehicle of his own invention, knowing that the war would be in full swing before