Chessmen of Doom (7 page)

Weeks passed. August arrived, and the Perseid meteor showers appeared in the sky, as they always do. Along with the meteors came the two comets that the professor had told the boys about. Each night the comets burned like lamps in the sky, side by side. A lot of articles were written in the newspapers about this incredible celestial event and nutty letters saying doom was near appeared in the "Letters to the Editor" columns all across the country. The professor laughed whenever he heard of things like this, but Johnny and Fergie were not as skeptical as he was. They felt nervous and tense, and they wondered what was going to happen.

One hot muggy evening in the middle of August, Johnny, Fergie, and the professor were driving back from a visit to Stone Arabia. They had seen a movie and gobbled Big Ed's wonderful chiliburgers, and they were in a very good mood, singing songs and telling jokes. When they rounded the last turn of the driveway they were surprised to see that the old mansion was ablaze with light. Every window was glowing, except for the boarded windows in the room on the third story of the tower. But even there, through the cracks, faint glimmers of light could be seen.

"Great God in heaven!" exclaimed the professor as he jammed on the brakes and shut the motor off. "It looks as if someone has been having a party here while we were gone! What do you think we should do? Drive back to town and get the police?"

Fergie shook his head. "Naah, Prof," he muttered through his teeth. "It looks like some old bum has broken in an' is havin' a high old time. I think the three of us can handle him."

At first the professor wanted to tell Fergie that he was out of his mind. But then he remembered the time he had charged a machine-gun nest, single handed, during the battle of the Argonne Forest. He pulled himself together and set his jaw. "No doubt you are right, Byron," he said stiffly. "Are you with me, gentlemen? Then it's forward at a gallop!"

Secretly Johnny wished that his two friends were not so bold and fearless. But on the other hand he didn't want anyone to accuse him of being a coward, so he slid off his seat and followed Fergie and the professor up the sidewalk toward the mansion. The professor led the way, with a tire iron gripped firmly in his right hand. But about halfway up the walk he stopped. He tried to go on, but he couldn't—he had run into an invisible wall that was as solid as the side of a mountain. With an astonished look on his face the professor stepped backward. He gritted his teeth and strode forward again, but he was stopped so suddenly that his glasses were knocked askew. With a muttered curse the professor took two steps back and adjusted his spectacles. Then he turned to the boys, who were standing and watching with their mouths open.

"Gentlemen," he growled in a low, angry voice, "it seems that we are up against something that is stronger than us. If we were smart, I suppose we would skedaddle out of here. But I want to know what's going on. Are you with me?"

The boys nodded and folded their arms stubbornly. Minutes passed, as they stood waiting outside the strange invisible wall that encircled the huge old house. Ahead they could see the lights still burning. Overhead, in the night sky, the two strange comets raced along, with fiery tails streaming behind them. For about half an hour nothing happened. Johnny thought that he heard a distant sound of chanting coming from the boarded room in the tower, but the sound was so faint that he could not tell if it was real. The professor got more and more nervous, and he paced back and forth.

"What on earth time is it?" snapped the professor irritably. "I left my watch in the house. Do you have a timepiece, Byron?"

Fergie squinted at the luminous dial of his watch. "I think it's about midnight, Prof," he said. "This thing isn't terribly accurate, but I set it this morning so it's probably right."

The professor scowled and folded his arms. "Ah, midnight! The witching hour! Traditionally this is the time when all sorts of weird and uncanny things are likely to occur. I wonder if—"

At that moment a loud slamming split the air. It sounded like a heavy load of wooden planks being dropped from a great height. At the same instant all the lights in the mansion went out, and the earth shook. It shook so violently that the professor and the boys were thrown to their knees. Dazed and shaken, Johnny tried to drag himself to his feet, but he found that he couldn't. For some reason he bent his head backward and gazed up at the two bright comets that still streaked across the heavens. As he watched, the comets seemed to flicker and grow dim. Then they went out. They vanished, and only the vast starry gulf of the night sky could be seen.

 

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

 

Something incredible had happened. For a long time the professor and the boys knelt motionless on the damp grass, but finally, one by one, they pulled themselves to their feet. Johnny looked up at the sky where no comets burned; he looked at the dark house that was lost in the shadows of night. Had they all been dreaming? How could burning comets vanish? How could an invisible wall keep them out of their house? Clutching his arms to his sides, he shuddered and closed his eyes. When he opened them he saw the professor brushing grass off his pants. When the professor saw that Johnny was staring at him, he straightened up and pushed his glasses straight on his nose.

"Well, that was something, wasn't it?" he snorted, as he looked around. "Byron, are you all right?"

Fergie was standing nearby. He seemed stunned, but when he spoke, his voice was clear and reassuring. "I guess so, Prof," he said as he ran his hands over his arms. "No bones broken, but . . . hey, what do you think happened? I mean, comets don't just go out, do they?"

The professor shook his head firmly. "No, they assuredly do not! You can be sure that astronomers all over the world will be having a field day with this one! But come, gentlemen! Let us see if we can get into our house."

Stepping forward, the professor groped with his hands, but he felt nothing—nothing but air. Beckoning to the boys, he led the way up the walk to the wide pillared porch. But when he jerked open the front door and turned on the hall light, he got a rude surprise. The house looked as if a whirlwind had passed through it. Pictures had fallen off the walls, and the coat tree had fallen on its face. Mirrors were shattered, and table lamps had been flung about. The professor stalked from room to room with the boys close behind him, and they all stared in disbelief at the mess in every part of the house.

"Lord preserve us!" sighed the professor, as he paused to catch his breath. "I'll bet the creep who did this has a red beefy face and a waxed mustache. Boys, will you come with me to the tower room?"

Johnny and Fergie glanced quickly at each other. They felt scared, but they also felt angry and determined.

"We're with you, Prof!" said Fergie loudly. "Lead on!"

Without another word the professor led the way up the main staircase, along the upstairs hall, and up the narrow, creaky flight of steps that mounted to the tower room. The three of them paused for a long time outside the stout paneled door, but at last the professor summoned up his courage and stepped forward. Shoving the door open, he groped for the light switch and flipped it on. After a brief hesitation the boys followed the professor inside, and they glanced curiously around at the ugly deserted room. All was still, and an unpleasant burnt smell hung in the air. The professor looked around, and then with a muttered curse he rushed to the fireplace. Standing up on tiptoe and gripping the mantel with his fingers, he peered hard at the metal disk that covered the stovepipe hole in the chimney. With amazement the professor saw that the pretty painted scene of trees and flowers had been scraped away, and now it was clear that the disk was not made of metal at all—it was transparent, like window glass! With a sudden lunge the professor rose up on tiptoe and banged on the disk with his fist. Something fell onto the fireplace hearth with a loud hollow
clack!
"By God!" said the professor. Fergie and Johnny gasped. Between the brass andirons lay a charred human skull with long black hair.

In an instant the professor was on his knees. He reached into the fireplace, grabbed the skull, and held it up for the boys to see. A wild light was in his eyes.

"This is it!"
he exclaimed triumphantly as he tapped one of the hollow eye sockets with his finger. "A dead eye in a room with no view! That evil mustached wretch was here tonight, trying to work black magic. And I think he almost succeeded!"

Johnny and Fergie were stunned. What on earth was the professor saying?

"I—I don't quite get you, Prof," said Fergie with a quick, nervous glance at Johnny. "What do you mean?"

The professor pulled himself to his feet. The grisly charred skull was still in his hands. "I mean," he said quietly, "that a magic ritual was performed here, and I think that it had something to do with those two comets. I know it sounds incredible, but . . . look, let's go downstairs. This evil room is giving me the screaming woo-hoos!"

Holding the skull at arm's length, the professor put it inside the closet. Then he led the boys downstairs to the kitchen, where they all got glasses of lemonade.

Slowly and solemnly they went out to the porch and sat down on three cane-bottomed rockers. The crickets chirped loudly in the tall grass, and the stars burned brightly in the sky. For a long time no one said anything. Finally the professor broke the silence.

"As I was going to say earlier," he muttered in a dreamy, faraway voice, "I think the last piece of the puzzle has fallen into place. Remember the end of my brother's weird poem? He talks about dragging the hairy stars from their nest. Well, it just came to me a few minutes ago that comets are hairy stars. That is what the ancient Greeks called them, because they thought that the long streaming tails were like hair. And the nest of comets is the Oort cloud that I was telling you about earlier. Somehow that evil man is using those chessmen and some occult ceremonies to bring comets toward the earth. But does he just want to scare people, or does he have something far more vicious in mind? He seems to be carrying out some project that was begun by my dear dead brother. I'd give a lot to know what our nasty friend really has in mind. But we may not know that until it's too late."

Johnny and Fergie looked at each other anxiously. Could the professor be right? Could the man with the chessmen really control comets? It seemed unlikely, but then a lot of unlikely things had been happening around Perry's old estate in the last two months. Silence fell. The only sounds were the chirping of the crickets and the creaking of the rockers. Suddenly Johnny spoke up.

"Uh . . . Professor?" he said, in a weak, throaty voice. "I have something to tell you. That is, we do. We—I mean, Fergie and me—we sneaked out with the boat on the night we were camping on that island, and—and we saw that nasty guy's cabin and the chessmen."

The professor was shocked. For a while he said nothing, and when he finally spoke his voice was strained— he was trying hard to keep from exploding.

"I see," he said through his teeth. "Would you care to tell me any more about your nocturnal adventure?"

With a lot of hems and haws, Johnny told the story of their trip to the evil man's island. And he tried to explain, as well as he could, the weird blanked-out feeling that he and Fergie had had after their visit. The professor listened intently, and. when Johnny was through he heaved a deep discontented sigh and rubbed his hands over his face.

"I wish I could get angry with you boys," he said, "but I always enjoyed going on nighttime adventures when I was a kid, and some of them were a bit hair-raising. Hmph! So you saw the nasty man's cottage, the chessmen, and a chart of the heavens. That certainly fits in with what I've managed to figure out. But the question now is: What do we do?"

"We could swipe those chessmen from him," suggested Fergie. "Without them, he can't do his magic whoop-te-doo, can he?"

The professor eyed Fergie coldly. "Oh, that's just a great big wonderful idea," he said. "Here we have someone who can keep us out of our house with an invisible wall, and we're supposed to sneak up on him and grab the chessmen while he's taking a nap?"

"We could swipe them while he's away somewhere," said Fergie stubbornly. "He has to eat like ordinary people, doesn't he? Well, maybe when he's gone into town for some food we can creep up in a rowboat. It might not work, but we oughta give it a try. It's better than not doing
anything!"

The professor put his glass of lemonade down on the floor of the porch. Then he folded his arms and rocked for a while in silence.

"You know, Byron," he said slowly, "there are times when you show signs of intelligence. The filthy wretch has to leave his silly island
sometime!
Of course, he may take the chessmen with him when he goes, but there's always the chance that he'll leave them at the cabin the way he did the night you two paid your visit. We should find out where he gets his supplies. It'll probably be at the general store in Stone Arabia, because it's close to the lake. I'll get friendly with the owner and see if I can get him to tell me when Ugly puss usually comes to town. Then we can borrow a motorboat and go zipping on out to the island. How does that sound?"

Johnny tried to smile, but he just couldn't manage it. He thought the plan was crummy, and he also thought that Fergie and the professor were out of their minds for suggesting it. However, he knew that he would have to go along, because the other two were exceptionally strong-willed people. If something went wrong, they would all get killed together.

Days passed, and the professor laid the groundwork for his plan. He got into a friendly checker game with Mr. Blodgett, the owner of the general store in Stone Arabia, and managed to find out that the nasty man was named Edmund S tally brass, and he was a man of very regular habits. Every Monday afternoon he came into town for supplies, and he spent the evening playing cards in the back room of a local tavern. He never went home till ten or eleven o'clock. So, on the very next Monday afternoon, around four o'clock, the professor set out to rent another motorboat. He had decided that Mike Flynn's prices were too high, so he went to another boathouse about a quarter of the way around the lake from Mr. Flynn's place. Rain was falling and the wind was whistling in the trees as the professor's car jolted down the muddy track that led to Higbee's Landing. The professor was wearing his yellow slicker and black rubber rain hat, and he was in high spirits. The boys wore plastic raincoats and were hatless. Both smiled bravely, but inside they were very tense—their stomachs were knotted up with fear. The professor guessed the boys' thoughts, and he tried to cheer them up.