Chapter IX

It was late in the afternoon when I reached the LaRauche house, a big, old-fashioned place, which stood within large enclosed grounds of its own, in a heavily wooded section, on a lonely and unfrequented road, about three miles south of Sands Cliff village.

Outwardly the residence was shabby, neglected, much in the want of fresh paint. The grounds in front were grown up with weeds. At the rear was a level stretch of meadow, backed by woods, which LaRauche used as a flying field. He owned and operated a small plane, in which he carried on experiments in wireless and meteorological observations. Ample private means enabled him to gratify his tastes to the full in the various fields of scientific research and exploration.

Astronomy held a particular attraction for him; he was a geologist and botanist as well. What with one thing and another, his life had been one long mad quest into the mysteries of the universe, and some of them he had solved. An astounding genius, if ever there was one, who was destined, I firmly believed, to spend his last days in a padded cell.

In appearance, he was a ramrod of a man, with hawk-like features surmounted by a mass of untidy, bushy white hair. Endowed with vast energy, he carried his sixty odd years with an air of perpetual youth and freshness. The man in the street who read of his scientific explorations into the unknown--recently he had been entertaining the reading-public with accounts of his plans and preparations to ride in a rocket to the moon--had no conception of the zeal that animated him as a scientific investigator, nor knowledge of the jealous fury that would seize him whenever he was outshone by the superior success of a fellow scientist.

Hot-headed, violently controversial, always quarrelsome, he had a malignant way of convulsing the various learned scientific bodies, to which he belonged, with stinging impeachments of his rivals. He had a turn for the sensational, which is rare in a man of his genius.

The breach between LaRauche and Henry dated back two years. It grew out of the first showing by LaRauche of several reels of motion pictures at the Exploration Club, depicting the life and customs of a hitherto unknown race of dwarfs, or midgets, he claimed to have discovered, living in a most primitive state in the jungles of Central Africa.

Henry and I attended the première, and Henry, in his rather dumb way, with no intention of wounding the feelings of LaRauche, or injuring his reputation, voiced his opinion to one of his intimates that the pictures were fictitious. His chance remark reached the ears of a member of the board of governors of the club, who made an official report of it to that body. Secret investigation by the board disclosed that LaRauche had, indeed, resorted to faking. The official inquiry revealed that he had recruited a small company of Negro midgets from Harlem, dressed them in skins of wild beasts and put them through various African jungle stunts in a wild and wooded section of New Jersey. The midget tribe he so cleverly portrayed subsisted mainly on insects, frogs and toads, and their eating live toads was one of the most realistic and clever fakes I have ever seen.

As a result, LaRauche was expelled from membership for conduct prejudicial to the club. The fact that the club's action was made public turned the current of public feeling against him for a time. It should have covered him with shame and confusion--a very foolish trick for a scientist of his standing to perpetrate in the declining years of his career--but he assumed an utterly contemptuous attitude, and readily admitted once he was cornered that the pictures were intended as a fake, to fool his rivals in the African exploration field.

Naturally, he blamed Henry for his crushing defeat. There was no mistaking his ill will thereafter towards my brother, and he endeavored in many ways to injure Henry's reputation as a scientist. He wrote him letters, couched in violent terms; called him an "amateur meddler" in science; he wanted war to the knife. But it takes two to make a quarrel, and Henry, in his easy way, declined to enter the controversy.

Another crushing blow to LaRauche was Henry's discovery of the comet, which increased his rancor and violent antipathy towards my brother. So it was with no little trepidation that I approached his house.

Parking my car at the side of the road, I paused a few moments at the entrance gate to take a rapid, estimating view of the estate, apparently the only human habitation anywhere about. The grounds were fenced by a dilapidated hedge, and rows of maples and poplars.

Suddenly, through the screen of trees, I noticed an old brick house, set in a hollow, at the base of a hill that sloped gently down from LaRauche's place. It was set far back from the road, in a clump of trees, and possessed a considerable range of stables and outhouses, the possible use of which immediately roused my curiosity, as there were no indications that farming was being carried on. It struck me as odd that they should be there. There was a reason for the several outbuildings I saw on LaRauche's grounds; a hangar, a small frame building, set between two tall antennae towers of steel, apparently used for broadcasting, and a glass-domed brick structure, where, no doubt, he carried on his astronomical observations.

All this was running through my mind, as I walked up the gravel-path towards the LaRauche house, when I heard a rustle in the hedge. Glancing in this direction, I was amazed to see a grizzly bear emerge from the hedge and make towards me. A cold sweat broke out on me. I was terrified. I quickened my step, so did the bear, a ferocious-looking beast. I broke into a run. The bear followed, close on my heels, in its peculiar loping fashion.

Before I reached the house, a loud, gruff voice, emanating from the other side of the hedge, stopped the bear's pursuit. I saw a middle-aged man on the far side of the hedge. From that fleeting glimpse I had of his general build and swarthy complexion, I judged him to be an Italian. I was greatly relieved when the bear disappeared through a hole in the hedge and joined his master on the other side.

But this was not the only unusual and surprising event of that afternoon. In answer to my ring, the door opened and revealed the tall, dignified figure of Orkins. I immediately deduced from his presence there that LaRauche had some hold on him which made him Orkins' master. I was also convinced that my theory that he had been planted in our household by LaRauche to spy on Henry's work, was a very probable one.

I suppose I let my suspicions show themselves in my face, for Orkins questioned me before I could speak. I was still a little breathless from running.

"You are no doubt surprised, Mr. Royce, to find me here?" he said.

"Yes--I suppose so," I replied, evasively.

"Dr. LaRauche was kind enough to re-engage me after my leaving your brother, Henry, so suddenly this morning," he went on. "How did your brother take it?"

"I prefer not to say anything--about that," I answered. "In fact, I'm not going to!"

"Yes, yes. I quite understand your attitude, Mr. Royce," he said. "Just as you like."

"My business is with Dr. LaRauche," I said. "Is he at home?"

"Dr. LaRauche is very busy," Orkins answered, coldly. "He is not receiving callers today."

"I think he will give me a few minutes' interview on rather urgent business," I said. "Just give him my card, if you please."

Orkins took my card gingerly, backing away from the doorway as he glanced at it. He still seemed taken aback, afraid, as though he felt my business with LaRauche concerned him. I stepped through the doorway into a small outer hall. "Just so--just so," muttered Orkins. "It's highly probable that Dr. LaRauche will see you," he added. "Please wait here," motioning for me to enter the main hall.

After he had vanished up the stairs, I looked from the hall into the library, a room filled with books from floor to ceiling. I was staring at this vast array of books with interest when a wisp of a woman appeared at the head of the stairs. It was Mrs. LaRauche.

"Ah! Mr. Livingston Royce," she said as she came down the stairs. "You want to see my husband? Well, he's very busy. Why, he hasn't allowed himself a real night's sleep for several weeks."

Mrs. LaRauche was very much younger than her husband; a slim, smallish woman of rather sallow complexion, with sandy hair, pale-blue, restless eyes, and rather untidily dressed.

We shook hands cordially. She had always treated Henry and me with the most punctilious respect. I had not seen her for about two years, and I formed the opinion at once that her husband's break with Henry had not changed her friendly feelings towards us.

I noticed a great change in her. She seemed to have lost her old-time vivacity. She appeared tired and worn, and had aged considerably. I felt anxious and perturbed about her. Something, I was quite sure, had happened. And, of course, it had to do with her husband.

There was an atmosphere of mystery about her and the house, and it was further deepened when Mrs. LaRauche led me from the hall into the library. She gave me the impression at once of one who lives in constant fear. There was a sign of caution and watchfulness in her eyes, expressed in nervous, terrified glances over her shoulder.

"I'm sure you won't mind my asking if your business with my husband is so very important?" she began in a low, tremulous voice. "You see--" She stopped and turned at what seemed to be the sound of footfalls on the stairs. There was a look of terror in her eyes.

"It isn't," I interrupted. "I've merely called, at my brother's request, to ask Dr. LaRauche for the return of Professor Lowell's book on Mars which he borrowed more than two years ago."

She looked greatly relieved. "I'm so glad," she breathed. "Rene goes into a perfect rage if he's interrupted. He's been very upset all morning, but still continues at his work. What he's working on, I haven't the slightest idea."

"Probably working on that rocket to the moon idea," I suggested, smiling.

"Completely mysterious to me," she rejoined.

"You've heard, of course, of my brother's latest discovery?" I ventured.

"No," she replied. "I've heard nothing. My mind has been occupied all morning wondering what's brought Orkins back to us. I've always disliked and distrusted him intensely."

Not feeling free to explain the circumstances, or cloud, under which Orkins had left our household, I glanced out the window. "Your house is in a very lonely location," I observed. "I hope you do not go out much alone. You seem to have some queer animals roaming about. I was chased by a grizzly bear as I walked through your grounds."

Mrs. LaRauche shuddered. "Oh, that terrible beast!" she muttered. "I never go out at night by myself on account of that bear. He's not vicious at all, really a pet, but it's frightening to run into him. Often I hear him, in the dead of night, clawing at our doors, whimpering and growling, and trying to get in."

"Who owns the animal?" I inquired.

"He belongs to our disreputable neighbor, Antonio Ranzetti," she replied, "an Italian animal trainer, who rented and took possession, much against our wishes, of that old brick house in the hollow. Rene would have bought the place, had we known, rather than suffer the annoyance of living next to a menagerie."

"Is it as bad as all that?"

She nodded. "He has a large collection of wild animals in the house and outbuildings, which he is training for the circus," she explained, "and he's just about as secretive in his work as Rene in his scientific researches. He's one of the most expert animal trainers in the world, I believe."

Then she suddenly remembered the book I was after. "I'm sure my husband did not keep your brother's book intentionally," she said. "He's very forgetful of what he calls trivialities." She walked over to a disordered desk, and with a sharp exclamation, picked up the book from among a row of volumes on top of it. "There you are!" she said.

My back was turned towards the door into the hall as I took the book, and expressed my thanks for its return. I was just on the point of departure, seeing I had no further excuse to remain on the premises, when I saw her start, and turn pale. Turning round quickly, I faced Dr. LaRauche, as he entered the library. In looks, he was about the angriest looking man I had ever encountered.

"Ah, Dr. LaRauche!" I said, without turning a hair.

He made no reply, just stood there, glaring, and inspecting me from top to toe. Finally, he spoke. "I know what's brought you here, Livingston Royce," he said. "I expected it."

Coming out of her cowering fright, and finding her voice, Mrs. LaRauche broke in falteringly. "Mr. Royce came after the Lowell book on Mars you borrowed from his brother, Henry, more than--"

A contemptuous exclamation cut her short. "Something more than the borrowed book brought him here," LaRauche said.

"What, for instance?" I asked him, point-blank.

"There's no doubt in my mind that your cunning brother sent you here to spy on me, on my work in its possible relation to his own, and to find out why I reengaged Orkins. But you haven't learned very much, have you?"

"To tell you the truth, I haven't," I replied, nonchalantly. "I'm not the sort of person gifted to see through a brick wall."

"Well, as you haven't found out anything," LaRauche thundered, "the next best thing to do is to go home, and report to your meddlesome brother that you haven't." As he concluded, he waved a hand towards the door.

With a polite bow, I withdrew, and left the house. I had not gone many yards down the gravel-path, when a woman's cry tore the air, a smothered cry of terrorized anguish. The sound died away without repetition. I passed on, convinced that some evil had befallen Mrs. LaRauche. There was more mystery in this house than I had at first imagined.

No success having materialized from the real motive of my visit, which LaRauche, with uncanny intuition, had so rightly surmised, I returned to the castle, and told Henry all that had occurred. He laughed heartily when I narrated my encounter with the grizzly bear. As for the secret work LaRauche was at present engaged on, and Orkins' possible connection with it, I was bound to admit that I had made little headway in obtaining any accurate information.

What seemed to Henry much the most important fact of the little evidence I had gained, was Mrs. LaRauche's statement that her husband was so engrossed in his work that he hadn't been sleeping properly at night for several weeks, and that he was keeping it a secret even from her.

"This is damned queer business," Henry said at last. "Let's suppose that Orkins, using the knowledge he gained of my recent discovery, is mixed up in this work on which LaRauche is spending so many exciting days and sleepless nights."

"Now, just what information Orkins obtained, as your butler, would be valuable to LaRauche?" I asked.

"If you're asking me for an answer, Livingston," said Henry, "all I've got to say is, I haven't got one. I can't think of any important reason why LaRauche should barge this way into my private affairs. Beats me altogether."

"Well, you can be certain of one thing," I said, "that he had an object--"

"Yes, but what object?" Henry demanded. "What? He couldn't possibly profit by anything Orkins gained by snooping round. LaRauche knows more about science than I shall ever dream of knowing."

"Well, there is this to be thought of," I remarked, after thinking a bit: "Perhaps, in relation to your latest achievement, he's going to come forward with something he hopes will throw your accomplishment in the shade, like a rocket to the moon, and we both know that's been a bee in his bonnet for some years. Or he's going to try to prove that your discovery is not genuine, and will denounce you as a fakir, as you exposed him, unwittingly, in those faked motion pictures of the African midgets, he claimed to have discovered."

"Either way there may be something in what you suggest," Henry answered. "Both are possible. But I think--"

"But why think," I interposed; "why trouble yourself, or ourselves, any longer about LaRauche's affairs, now that things have turned out as they have? Why should you fear his opposition? The last connecting link has been broken, now that you've got your precious book on Mars back. Let him do his damnedest! Good riddance. I don't care; you don't, I'm sure."

Henry saw the value of my proposition at once; and so matters were settled as far as LaRauche and Orkins were concerned. We never spoke of them again. They passed out of our consciousness as though they never existed.

Other things became of greater concern. So many things, strange things, happened, I didn't know whatever to expect next. It was as if the world was being turned upside down. I never knew such times, nor expected to know such.