The Lost World MEGAPACK®. Lin Carter

leaped away. It was a desperate gamble, but Pierre might have a chance to get at Harlan afterward. Better the try than tamely to wait for certain death later.

      Crane’s big body lunged forward like a football tackier, toes digging in the dirt. Head low, he aimed for Harlan’s legs.

      Jondra screamed. Crane knew he could never make it. The ugly snout of the automatic leveled straight for him. Harlan’s finger began to squeeze. Crane mentally winced, waiting for the slugs that would churn through his brain.

      A shot rang out…

      Harlan had missed! Another shot…four more shots…and still no bullet touched Crane!

      It was an impossible miracle. And then Crane gasped. He stopped short, staring at the amazing phenomenon occurring before him.

      Harlan stood in a strangely unnatural position. His right arm was stiff before him, the wrist bent, the automatic pointed upward where he had pumped the useless shots. It was exactly as though a man had grasped Harlan’s wrist from the side, jerked his arm up, and twisted the wrist!

      Yet there was no man there.

      Harlan gave a shriek suddenly, as his wrist almost turned in a complete circle. His arm looped awkwardly back and he staggered in an off-balance position. A moment later the automatic dropped to the dust from Harlan’s nerveless fingers.

      The automatic bounced once, then miraculously rose into the air by Itself, pointing at Harlan. The chemist reeled back, groaning with the pain of his bruised wrist, and at the unnerving sight of his own gun, unsupported, threatening him.

      “It’s an invisible man!” Jondra whispered.

      Crane tensed himself again. Friend or enemy? Had they been rescued from Harlan only to face a new menace?

      “Who are you?” he demanded.

      A low, quiet voice issued weirdly from a spot just above the gun, held by an invisible hand.

      “I’m known as the Invisible Robin Hood.”

      Crane’s mouth fell open.

      “The Invisible Robin Hood? You mean that publicity myth that stirred up the country last year?”

      “Publicity myth?” The unseen man chuckled. “Yes, I suppose most of you hard-headed people never did quite believe I actually existed as an invisible man. For a year I spied and tracked down criminal rings, and still no one believes I exist. No one except the criminals whose careers I ended, and my one confidant and contact man. Well—”

      Crane could almost see the invisible shrug. Then he gasped, as his thoughts pierced back and back, through haze of mystery.

      “You were with us all the time!” he exclaimed. “The take-off at Chicago—the plane was overloaded because of your added weight. During the flight, you once kept Jondra from falling. It was your hand on my shoulder that first indicated the valley to me, from the air.

      “You kept me from striking Harlan, when he criticized my landing. You turned off the ignition key, to prevent danger of fire!” Crane gulped for breath. It was all so clear now! He could see dawning looks of understanding on the others’ faces.

      “Yes,” came from the Invisible Robin Hood, “and I also threw the second grenade, when the dragon attacked you and Jondra. I was the one sneaking around the plane, when Jondra appeared, after the radio was smashed.

      “Yesterday, I threw the grenade when you and Pierre struggled together, killing the second dragon.”

      “You saved our lives?” Dr. Damon murmured. “Then you’re our friend—”

      “Is he?” Crane’s face was suddenly grim. “It must have been you that spoiled Pierre’s first shot, and later chased away the deer, Mr. Invisible Robin Hood. And you also smashed the plane’s radio! You, as much as Harlan, have wanted to keep us locked in this valley without outside communication. Why?”

      The unseen man seemed to ponder for a moment, silently. Then his disembodied voice, ignoring the accusations, addressed the dazed, crestfallen Harlan.

      “I’ve tracked you from the start, Paul Harlan. I knew you would reveal yourself—Agent R-616!”

      Harlan started. “You mean you know—”

      The Invisible Robin Hood made an affirmative sound.

      “Everything.” He addressed the others. “This man is a quisling—a member of the fifth column operating in North America!”

      “Fifth column!” Dr. Damon gasped. “What do they want up here in this godforsaken—”

      “Your invisibility, of course,” the answer came back sharply. “They got on the track of it when Pierre, delivering your first message, took time out for a few drinks. He slipped, mentioning the valley of invisibility. No one paid any attention except a fifth column spy. They’re all over, with their ears and eyes open for everything.

      “Their headquarters was informed, in Chicago, and a certain masked Commander “Z” met a certain agent R-616 in a cheap hotel room, to give him his instructions. When Jondra put an ad in the paper for a chemist, Agent R-616 answered. Paul Harlan is an expert chemist, in real life. But he is also a fifth columnist—working for them, not you!”

      “Good Lord!” Dr. Damon shook his head dazedly. “I never dreamed—”

      “How do you know all that, Invisible Robin Hood?” Crane asked.

      They could sense his peculiar smile.

      “I am silent as the wind, swift as the tiger. I am unseen, undetectable. I see all, know all, hear all. At any moment I may be at your elbow, any where!”

      He chuckled. “At least, that was my publicity, during my campaign against crime, for the benefit of those who needed to fear me. As a matter of fact, I stumbled on this accidentally.

      “Since the European war, I’ve been investigating fifth column activities, the greatest menace on this continent today. For a year I was on the trail. It wasn’t an easy job.

      “The fifth column has spawned and spread almost unhindered, like a malignant cancer. They are very clever, no quisling knowing more than one other quisling by name. The vast anonymous network has but one common basis—the undermining of the North American peoples. They envision the day when in one stunning upheaval, America the unconquerable will be fast in their grip.

      “They have gained recruits—renegades to their country—from every walk of life, and by any and all means. Particularly they appeal to ambition and dissatisfaction.

      “Paul Harlan is a typical example. He is ambitious. The fifth column converts have more ambition per square head than any other group in the country. And the fifth column G.H.Q. lavishes promises faster than any blitzkrieg ever took objectives.

      “That’s what I’m up against—for I’ve vowed to smash the fifth column. The only way will be to reach the top men. I had laboriously tracked my way as high as Commander Z. But when he gave R-616 his instructions to get the secret of invisibility, I had to follow that branch trail.

      “I was at Paul Harlan’s elbow when he met Commander Z. I was at Paul Harlan’s elbow when he stepped into the plane at the airport.”

      Crane had to laugh at Harlan’s crushed air.

      “You didn’t have a chance at all, Harlan, in your double-crossing—”

      He broke off, lifting his head. They all heard it—a faint drone from the sky. A tiny plane sparkling high in the air, in the south. It rapidly enlarged into a two-motored cabin ship. It swooped, circling the valley.

      “Harlan’s fifth columnist friends!” Crane whirled to the scientist. “What’s the way out of the valley by foot, that you and Pierre found? The sooner we leave, the better. We can pack enough food along to reach some town—”

      Harlan