And then suddenly, rubbing his eyes involuntarily, he was staring in a dazed way before him.The whole right-hand side of the wall was sinking without a sound into the floor, increasing the width of the room by some five or six feet--and in this space was disclosed what appeared to be a sort of chemical laboratory, elaborately equipped, extending the entire length of the room.
"The wall is purely a matter of mechanical construction, operated hydraulically." The man was speaking softly at Jimmie Dale's side.
"The room beneath is built to correspond; the base, ceiling, and wall mouldings here do not have to be very ingenious to effect a disguise.I might say, however, that few visitors, other than yourself, have ever seen anything here but a bedroom." He waved his hand toward the retorts, the racks of test tubes, the hundred and one articles that strewed the laboratory bench."As for this, its purpose is twofold.We, as well, as the police, have often need of analysis.We make it.If we require a drug, a poison, say, we compound it from its various ingredients, or, as the case may be, distil it, perhaps--it is, you will agree, somewhat more difficult to trace to its source if procured that way.And speaking of poisons"--he stepped forward, and lifted a glass-stoppered bottle containing a colourless liquid from a shelf--"in a modest way we have even done some original research work here.This, for instance, is as Utopian from our standpoint as the formation, and personnel of the organisation I have briefly outlined to you.It possesses very essential qualities.It is almost instantaneous in its action, requires a very small quantity, and defies detection even by autopsy." He uncorked the bottle, and dipped in a long glass rod."Will you watch the experiment?" he invited, with a sort of ghastly pleasantry."I do not want you to accept anything on trust."With a start, Jimmie Dale swung around.He had heard no sound, but another man was at his elbow now--and, struggling in the man's hand, was a little white rabbit.
It was over in an instant.A single drop in the rabbit's mouth, and the animal had stiffened out, a lifeless thing.
"It is quite as effective on the human organism," continued the other, "only, instead of one drop, three are required.If I make it ten"--he was carefully measuring the liquid into two wineglasses--"it is only that even you may be satisfied that the quantity is fatal." He filled up the glasses with what was apparently wine of some description, which he poured from a decanter, and held out the glasses in front of him.
And again Jimmie Dale started, again he had heard no one enter, and yet two men had stepped forward from behind him and had taken the glasses from their leader's hands.He glanced around him, counting quickly--they were surely the two who had entered with him from the corridor.No! Including the leader, there were now six men, all in evening dress, all masked, in the room with him.
A wave of the leader's hand, and the two men holding the glasses left the room.The man turned to Jimmie Dale again.
"Shall we proceed to the second room, Mr.Dale?" he asked politely.
"I think it is now prepared for us--I do not wish to bore you with a repetition of magical sliding walls."There was something now that numbed the ache in Jimmie Dale's brain--a sense of some deadly, remorseless thing that seemed to be constantly creeping closer to him, clutching at him--to smother him, to choke him.There was something absolutely fiendish, terrifying, in the veneer of culture around him.
They had entered the second room.This, like the other, was a pseudo-bedroom; but here the movable wall was already down.Ranged along the right-hand side were a great number of cabinets that slid in and out, much after the style and fashion used by clothing dealers to stock and display their wares.These cabinets were now all open, displaying hundreds of costumes of all kinds and descriptions, and evidently complete to the minutest detail.The cabinets were flanked by full-length mirrors at each end of the room, and on little tables before the mirrors was an assortment, that none better than Jimmie Dale himself could appreciate, of make-up accessories.
The man smiled apologetically.
"I am afraid this is rather uninteresting," he said."I have shown it to you simply that you may understand that we are alive to the importance of detail.Disguise, that is daily vital to us, is an art that depends essentially on detail.I venture to say we could impersonate any character or type or nationality or class in the United States at a moment's notice.But"--he took Jimmie Dale's arm again and conducted him out into the corridor, while the two men who were evidently acting the role of guards followed closely behind--"there is still the third room--here." He halted Jimmie Dale before the door."I have asked you to answer two questions, Mr.Dale," he said softly."I ask you now to remember the alternative."They still stood before the door.There was that uncanny silence again--it seemed to Jimmie Dale to last interminably.Neither of the three men surrounding him moved nor spoke.Then the door before him was opened on an unlighted room, and he was led across the threshold.He heard the door close behind him.The lights came on.
And then it seemed as though he could not move, as though he were rooted to the spot---and the colour ebbed from his face.Three figures were before him: the two men who had carried the glasses from the first room, and the chauffeur who had driven him in the taxicab.The two men still held the glasses--the chauffeur was bound hand and foot in a chair.One of the glasses was EMPTY; the other was still significantly full.
Jimmie Dale, with a violent effort at self-control, leaned forward.
The man in the chair was dead.
