.

man smiled cryptically and said he would see to it that that did not occur."

      The young man was scowling. "I know that man. He is somewhere back in my mind, but he will not come forward."

      John Pride regarded his listener for a moment and then went on. "The man seemed in ample funds and paid for the property with a giant ruby the like of which my great grandfather had never before set eyes on.

      "But the affair was far from ended. The man moved his ménage into the mansion saying he would call upon my great grandfather later.

      "All the legal formalities had been of course taken care of—an indisputable deed, guaranteed by the strongest trust company in the land. But that was not enough.

      "After a few weeks, during which time the man had inquired of my great grandfather where certain materials could be obtained, he returned to the old gentleman's office with the most startling request of all.

      "He said that he had set in motion a procedure that would terminate in exactly one hundred years from a given moment and that he wished to retain grandfather's firm as trust agents in relation to that procedure. The duties of the firm would be negligible during the hundred-year period. My great grandfather and his issue were merely to remain completely away from the property which was certainly a simple thing to do.

      "But knowledge of what had taken place must be passed down to his son and in case the latter did not survive the one hundred years, to his son's son.

      "At this point my great grandfather interposed reality in the form of a question: 'I have a son but suppose he is so inconsiderate as to not duplicate with a male heir?'

      "The man smiled and said he was sure that would not be the case. He was right, but whether it was a gamble on his part or whether he spoke from a knowledge beyond us, we never knew.

      "But regardless—at the end of one hundred years the surviving issue was, by sacred trust, to be present in this mansion. The door of a vault beneath it would open and the trustee was to enter and deliver therein a written account of the series of events leading up to that moment.

      "In payment for this service, the man insisted upon presenting my great grandfather with jewels the value of which on a yearly basis transcended all our other income combined. My great grandfather demurred but the man said nothing brightens memory so much as material gain and he did not want the agreement to be forgotten."

      "What happened to the man?" the young listener asked.

      John Pride shook his head sadly. "We never knew. When all the arrangements were made, he came again to the office, thanked my great sire for his services, and was never seen again."

      "He must have given you his name."

      John Pride frowned. "He used a name of course but there was the impression of its not being his true one. The book mentions this. The name he used was C. D. Bram."

      "Portox!" the young man cried suddenly.

      "What did you say?"

      "Portox. The name is back in my mind. I used it as I awoke."

      "A strange name."

      "And stranger still is the fact that I know nothing of it—wait!" The young man's handsome features strained as he concentrated with all his power. Sweat stood out on his forehead. But then a look of disappointment came into his face and his broad shoulders sagged. "No. The knowledge is somewhere back in my mind but I cannot capture it."

      John Pride was about to speak but the young man stayed him with a sudden intense look. "One thing however is very clear to me."

      "And that is—?"

      "The face of my mother."

      "The woman who held you in her arms in the hotel suite?"

      "No, I do not think so. But I see a face clearly in my mind. A sad and beautiful face. There is a marked resemblance between it and what I see in that mirror. She is the most beautiful woman who ever lived and I yearn to find her and take her in my arms."

      "I hope you succeed."

      A tragic light appeared in the young man's eyes. "But where is she? How can I find her? Why did she leave me in this place?"

      "I do not have the answers to those questions. But I have a theory concerning you and the elapsed years."

      "Tell me!"

      John Pride spoke firmly but with obvious awe. "I think you were brought here as an infant for some reason known only to the one who called himself C. D. Bram."

      "Or Portox."

      "Perhaps. I think you were placed in that bed and left there for one hundred years."

      "But—"

      "Consider. That door has never been opened. There is certainly no other exit to this cavern."

      "And I have no recollection of ever having lived before," the young man said slowly.

      "Yet you can converse with me. You obviously have been given an education."

      "But how?"

      "It is known that knowledge can be injected into the subconscious while the receiver sleeps. I'm sure the man you insist upon calling Portox was aware of this—this and perhaps other scientific miracles. Who are we to say that you were not nourished by some means beyond our knowledge?"

      But that investigation was never to be made because as John Pride extended his hand to touch the box it suddenly burst into a glow and he withdrew his fingers quickly.

      Before the younger man could answer a glowing point of light sprang into being and brightened and a wave of searing heat erupted from the walls of the room, searing the eyes of John Pride and leaving him to grope helplessly as in the heart of a furnace. The younger man was beyond his reach. Blinding pain caused him to reel.

      CHAPTER V

      Question upon question

       Table of Contents

      John Pride opened his eyes as a moan escaped his lips. The haze cleared and he found himself lying upon a cool stone floor looking up into the concerned face of the younger man. "What happened?" John Pride asked feebly. He tried to refocus.

      "I don't know except that the heat of that fire was upon us with such swiftness that we were almost incapacitated. I picked you up and started walking. Fortunately I moved in the direction of the door. Otherwise we would have been doomed."

      "I am in your debt."

      "No more so than I in yours."

      "Did you extinguish the fire?"

      "It burned out of its own accord. But only after the cave was completely gutted. There is nothing left in there but the bare rock walls."

      John Pride sat up with quick concern. "The book!"

      "It is gone." The young man looked ruefully down at his own naked body. "Gone—together with my precious robe."

      "That can easily be replaced along with other raiment but the book—I was supposed to deliver it—"

      "—to the cavern. You did that, my friend. It was not through you that the fire consumed it. You have dispatched your obligation. Let your mind be at ease."

      John Pride got to his feet. He shook his head in the negative. "No. A portion of my obligation still exists. Fortunately I did not bring forth the second and last item I was to place in the cavern."

      "The second item?"

      "Yes, and I believe the most important."

      With that, Pride took from his pocket a small box wrapped in heavy material and sealed and resealed with a sort of rubberized wax.

      "This," he said. "I know not what is in the box nor I think, did my father, my grandfather,