"You are locked up in a room twelve feet square with an ounce of radium."

"Well?"

"You are the first man in the world who has been locked up with an ounce of radium in a room twelve feet square, and your sensations would be of scientific value. If you care to describe them to me by telephone so long as you are conscious, I will not prosecute; otherwise I will place the matter in the hands of the police. Which do you prefer to do?"

"You are remarkably kind to offer me the alternative. I think I prefer to describe my sensations."

"Thank you. I am really very much obliged to you, John Smithers; but I ought to warn you beforehand that you will be put to great personal inconvenience. If you decide to try the experiment I shall not release you for some hours. I shall certainly not break off in the middle, however ill you feel."

"I have told you my choice," said Anstruther curtly.

"Right. Stop, though. What sort of a heart have you?"

"Strong."

"Good. You'll need it. Got a watch?"

"Yes."

"Can you take your pulse?"

"Yes."

"You are a real treasure, John Smithers. I'm glad you called. You've been fifteen minutes in the room. What is your pulse?"

"Seventy-three."

"Thank you. Can you read a clinical thermometer?"

"Yes."

"On the ledge of the telephone, where the paper is, you will find a tube. Got it? There's a thermometer inside. Please take it out, and read it carefully."

"Ninety-seven," said the Major.

"Thank you. I had no idea the army was so intelligent. How the papers do deceive us! Now put the thermometer under your tongue for two minutes, and then let me know what it registers."

"Ninety-nine," came the eventual response.

"Thank you. Horse or foot soldier, Smithers?"

"Horse."

"Horse. Thank you. Married?"

"No."

"Good again, Smithers. No one dependent upon you, I hope? Have you a headache?"

"It's enough to give me one, answering all your questions."

"Please describe symptoms, and not attempt to diagnose them. Have you a headache?"

"Yes."

"How's your heart?"

"Beats irregularly."

"Probably it will. Respiration?"

"It's rather choky here. Can't you let me have a breath of fresh air?"

"On no account, Smithers--on no account. I'm surprised at your suggesting such a thing. That will do for the present. I'll ring up again shortly, and I'm always here if you want me. You might take a little gentle exercise now."

The major hung up his receiver. The room seemed to be much lighter now.

The radium glowed more brightly, and the scintillations on the wall behind had increased in intensity. He advanced towards the radium, and was immediately conscious that his discomfort increased. There was a smarting sensation on the front of his body, as if it were exposed to fire. His breathing became more difficult, his headache increased. He drew back to the wall, and the symptoms became less marked.

The bell rang again. "I ought to inform you, Smithers," said the voice, "that no good at all would result from your attempting to destroy the radium. As a matter of fact, if you broke or crushed it you would feel very much worse. The particles would fly all over, and you would inhale them. The symptoms would be intensely interesting if you would care to experience them, but I won't answer for the consequences. I just want you to understand that you can't possibly escape from this important new element when once you are imprisoned in a room with it, especially when the room is only twelve feet square."

The major did not reply. He hung up his receiver in silence.

At the other end of the telephone was Robert Blyth, F.R.S., D.Sc., etc., etc., a little red-haired man, whose researches on the Mutilation and Redintegration of Crystals are of world-renown.

He was a grave little man as a rule. Only when on the verge of some discovery, or when watching the successful progress of an experiment, did he wax cheerful. He did this now as he surveyed his notes of the report of John Smithers, a horse-soldier, in durance vile in the adjoining room.

"Pulse, 73; temperature, 99; heart, irregular. Good. Respiration difficult. Well, that's understandable. He's been in there thirty-one minutes. Thanks to a strong const.i.tution, he's scarcely felt anything yet; but now he'll have trouble. John Smithers, you are going to have an exceedingly bad time of it. If you weren't a criminal I should hesitate in giving it you. As it is, you must suffer for the cause of science. Your experience will, no doubt, make you hesitate before you attempt another crime."

The professor tilted back his chair. "Strange," he mused, "how brain controls matter to the end. Here's John Smithers in the next room--a strong man admittedly--cribbed, cabined, and confined by a man he could probably crumple up with one hand. It was a stroke of genius to advertise my discovery in the papers. The criminal cla.s.ses all read them now, and I thought I should probably attract a thief. I placed the radium in the middle of the room, and painted the wall behind with sulphide of zinc so that he couldn't possibly miss it. I easily constructed a threshold that closed the door when stepped upon. And then I had only to wait."

Here the bell rang. "Aha, Smithers, you are growing impatient. Well?"

"Are you a Christian?" came the reply.

"I hope so. Why?"

"Do you call this Christian conduct, to imprison me here with this infernal block of fire? I tell you, man, it's poisoning me. It's choking me. It's getting to my brain. If you are a Christian, come down and let me out."

"None of that hysterical sort of talk, Smithers," said the Professor sternly. "It's no good appealing for mercy. You are a thief, and you've got to be punished. Pull yourself together, and show what you are made of. You don't know what a lot of good your sufferings may do to humanity. I shall publish a full account of them in the _British Medical Journal_, and I am sure your family will be proud of you when they read it."

"I haven't got a family, and if I had they shouldn't read your jibberings. I tell you that if you don't let me out I shall do something desperate!"

"You can't," said the Professor. "There's nothing in the room except the radium and the telephone. If you knock the radium about you'll only make things worse for yourself, and if you damage the telephone you cut off your only link with the outside world. Be a man, Smithers. You've read of the Black Hole of Calcutta. The sufferings of the prisoners there were far worse than yours."

"You are a scientific vampire--a howling chemical bounder!" came the response.

"Tut, tut!" said the Professor serenely. "Do try and be calm. Take a stroll round. You might put the thermometer under your tongue again, and let me have the record. Nothing like filling your leisure moments with useful occupation."