is spanned by a glass roof above the eighth storey. In this
court, at eleven o'clock this morning, the entire editorial and a
large part of the business staff of this paper, repaired, to examine
the mysterious rocket-like thing. A little lid was opened, showing
the recess where the tell-tale scrap of paper, written by Werner, had
been found. Inside there seemed to be a pair of peculiar battery
cells, whose exact nature was hidden by the outer shell. Outside
there were several thumb-screws, which were turned both ways without
any apparent effect. While making this examination the machine had
been set up on its lower end, and when it was again laid down it
_refused to lie on its side_, but persisted in _standing erect of its
own accord_. This was the more wonderful because the lower end was
not flat, so that it would afford a good base, but was pointed. More
than a hundred people saw it stand up on this sharp tip, saw it lift
up light weights which were placed upon it to hold it on its side,
and saw it quickly right itself when it was placed vertically but
wrong end down.
"Thinking this queer property had been contributed to it in some way
by loosening the thumb-screws, they were next all set down as tightly
as possible, to see if this tendency to erectness would be lost.
Then, to the astonishment of every one in the court, and of several
hundred people who were by this time watching from the interior
windows, this infernal machine, without any explosion, burning of
gases, or any apparent force acting upon it, slowly _rose from the
ground_, and then, travelling more swiftly, _shot through the roof of
glass_ and vanished from sight! Nor has the most diligent search
enabled us to recover it. Does it possess the secret of Isidor
Werner's death?"
But the Chicago _Herald_ had been working thoroughly and saying little
until its issue of June 16th, when it claimed the credit of solving the
whole mystery. Its long article lies before me as I write: There had
been no suicide; there had been no murder; there had been no infernal
machine. Doctor Anderwelt was a learned man, and the warm personal
friend of Isidor Werner. Both men had shared the same fate; they might
yet be alive, but they were certainly _at the bottom of Lake Michigan
together_! They were imprisoned there in a sunken submarine boat, which
was the invention of Doctor Anderwelt, and wa
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