place the object, coatedwith the film, on this plate. Then I start in motion the overhead ring,creating an immensely powerful, rapidly rotating magnetic field. Therotating field rearranges the atoms of this peculiarly susceptible filmof mine so that they will transmit light rays with the least possibleresistance. It combs the atoms into straight lines, you might say. Withthat straight-line, least-resistance arrangement comes invisibility."
"I don't quite see--" began the Secretary.
"Refraction of light," said Thorn hurriedly. "The light rays strike thisfilm, hurtle around the object, it coats--at increased speed, probably,but there are no instruments accurate enough to check that--and emergeon the other side. Thus, you can look at a body so filmed, and not seeit: your gaze travels _around_ it and rests on objects in a straightline behind it. But you'll see for yourself in a moment. Pull thatswitch, there, will you? And leave it on for two full minutes after youhave ceased to see me."
Straight and tall, a figure encased in shimmering crystal, the scientiststood on the metal plate. Hesitant, with the superstitious dread growingin his heart, the Secretary stood with his hand on the switch. That handpulled the switch down....
Soundlessly the overhead metal ring began to whirl, gathering speed withevery second. And then, though he had known in advance something of whatwas coming, the Secretary could not suppress a shout of surprise.
The man before him on the metal plate was vanishing.
* * * * *
Slowly he disappeared from view--slowly, as an object sinking deeper anddeeper into clear water disappears. Now the face was but a white blob.Now the entire body was but a misty blur. And now a shade, a waveringshadow, alone marked Winter's presence.
The Secretary could not have told the exact instant when that last faintblur oozed from sight. He only knew that at one second he was gazing atit--and at the next second his eyes rested on a rack of test-tubes onthe wall beyond the plate.
He looked at his watch. Sweat glistened in tiny points on the hand thatheld the switch. It was all so like death, this disappearance--as if hehad thrown the switch that electrocuted a man.
The specified two minutes passed. He cut off the power. The great ringlost speed, stopped whirling. And on the plate was--nothing.
At least it seemed there was nothing. But a moment later a deep voicesounded out: "I guess I'm invisible, all right, according to theexpression on your face."
"You are," said the Secretary, mopping his forehead, "except when youspeak. Then I have the bizarre experience of seeing glimpses of teeth,tongue and throat hanging in mid-air. I'd never have believed it if Ihadn't witnessed it myself! That paint of yours is miraculous!"
"A little complicated, but hardly miraculous. It has a cellulose base,and there is in it a small per cent of powdered crystal--but the restI'll keep locked in my brain alone till my country has need of it."
The glimpses of teeth and tongue and throat ceased. In spite of himself,the Secretary started as an unseen hand touched his shoulder.
"Now,"--there was ringing resolution in the deep voice--"for theArvanian Embassy. Please drive me there--and be as quick as you canabout it. I can't last very long with this film sealing most of thepores of my body."
* * * * *
The Secretary started for the laboratory door. Beside him sounded thepatter of bare feet. He opened the door and walked into the hallway.Behind him, apparently of itself, the door clicked shut; and thefootsteps again sounded beside him.
The Secretary walked to the curb where his limousine waited. Hischauffeur jumped out and opened the door. The Secretary paused a moment,one foot on the running board, to draw a cigar from his pocket and lightit. During that moment the car pressed down on that side, and assuddenly rocked back up again.
The chauffeur stared wide-eyed at his employer.
"Did you do that, sir?" he asked.
"Do what?" said the Secretary.
"Push down on the running board with your foot."
"Of course not," said the Secretary, his eyebrows raising. "You couldhave seen my leg move if I had. But why do you ask?"
"It felt like somebody got into this car," mumbled the man.
"Did you see anybody get in?" said the Secretary with a shrug. And,shaking his head, with a fuddled look in his eyes, the chauffeur turnedaway and got into the driver's seat.
The Secretary glanced at the rear seat. On the far side, the cushion washeavily depressed. He sat on the near side, feeling his knee strikeanother, unseen knee.
"Drive to the Bulgarian Embassy," he told his man.
Up Sixteenth Street the car swung, past the various embassies whichlooked more like palatial private villas than offices of foreignnations. Toward the end of the line, a smaller building than most of theothers, was the Arvanian Embassy. Next to it was the Bulgarian.
* * * * *
The car stopped in front of the Bulgarian Embassy, and the Secretary gotout. Again he paused, while the chauffeur held the door open, to hold amatch to his cigar. Again the car sagged down on that side, and slowlyswayed up again.
"Hey--" said the chauffeur. But meeting the Secretary's calmly inquiringgaze, he stopped. Scratching his head, he went back to the wheel, whilethe Secretary walked toward the building entrance.
Behind him, moving on soundless bare feet along the sidewalk, ThornWinter hastened, cloaked in invisibility, toward the ArvanianEmbassy--and the plans that spelled America's destruction if theyremained in Arvanian hands.
The embassy building was a three-storied oblong house of white stonetopping a terrace that started its climb from the sidewalk of SixteenthStreet. The doors at the head of the wide stone staircase were ofbronze; and they were closed, and, Thorn surmised, efficiently barred.The windows at front and sides were also closed, in spite of the warmthof the sunny spring afternoon.
Beside the building, leading up in a short steep hill, was the driveway.Up this Thorn started. The front of the house was hopelessly barred; butat the rear entrance there might be a chance.
Up the driveway, then, he walked, a little startled at the fact that hecast no shadow--feeling as a ghost might feel. The pavement was hot tohis thinly filmed feet. A little dubious as to the effect of heat on thevital shell that hid him, he stepped off into the cool grass beside thedrive; and came soon to the rear of the embassy.
There was no porch or veranda, simply two stone steps leading up to astout oak door which opened onto the embassy kitchens. From behind thisdoor came the sound of crockery and the hum of voices. The Arvanian chefevidently was preparing afternoon tea.
* * * * *
Walking boldly to the very steps, Thorn began the vigil that should endwhen someone came in or out of that door, allowing him to slip insidethe building before the portal was barred shut again.
For nearly half an hour Thorn stood there before something happened thatat once helped him, and, at the same time, nearly proved his undoing.
A light delivery van sped up the driveway. The wheels stirred up a cloudof dust. It was a very small cloud of very fine dust. Thorn at firstthought nothing of it, because he was so engrossed in the convictionthat here ought to be provided an entrance into the house.
The truck driver got out, took a crate from the body of the van, andwent with it to the back door. After a moment of waiting, the dooropened. Thorn noticed that it was opened very cautiously, only an inchor so. He caught a glimpse of a heavy chain stretched across the inchopening, and saw a strip of bearded, resolute face.
The door was unchained. The driver walked in, while the door stood open.Thorn started to glide in after him....
Mere chance made him glance at a window near the door. This windowframed another bearded, resolute face. And the eyes in that face werelike saucers as they stared full at Thorn!
For an instant Thorn knew icy fear. His invisibility! Had somethinghappened to strip him of that concealing mantle? But what _could_ havehappened
?
He glanced down at himself and saw the reason for the guard'ssaucer-eyed expression.
A little of the light cloud of dust stirred up by the truck wheels hadsettled over him and clung to the encasing shell. As he moved, thesedust specks moved. The effect to the staring guard, Thorn realized, mustbe that of seeing a queer, fine dust column moving eccentrically over agrassy lawn where no dust column had any business to be.
* * * * *
Quickly Thorn moved toward the garage, with the eyes of the amazed guardfollowing him. The scientist was savage at the delay; but it was vitalthat he rid himself of that clinging dust.
Behind the garage he broke off a feathery spray from a vine, and strokedit lightly over himself. That, too, presented a curious spectacle: aleafy branch suddenly detaching itself from the parent vine and dancinghere and there in mid-air.
When the all-important task was done, Thorn raced