which hangs beneath the golden Dome of Justice? There is a saying in this city, 'When the Bell strikes, we die.' It is named the Threat of Penn. The people believe implicitly that should the Servants become incensed and strike that Bell, the city, the people, the very earth itself would dissolve into air like thin smoke! I myself can't tell you how this supersti-I should say, this faith originated. But it is a very deep-rooted and convenient one. Have you any other questions?'
'One more, and it is this. During the day I have heard Penn Service referred to as sacred. Last night the judge spoke of the 'sacred precincts.' What we called City Hall you call the Temple. Just now you referred to 'Penn, the mighty All-Father.' Is Penn Service a religious organization?'
The other stared. 'Religious? That is a word I have never before heard. Penn is the All-Father. The Numbers worship and pray to him. Immobile and benevolent he stands, high above our petty affairs, speaking to none save his Servants. Through his wisdom they, the twelve great Servants of Penn, are the Supreme and only power-the Masters of his City!'
Drayton sighed deeply. 'We are indebted to you, sir, for your frankness. In future we will certainly try to keep out of trouble.'
'I trust you will.' Cleverest rose to take his departure. 'I've set my heart on upsetting Lovely's little game. By the way, where is that other chap-Bertram, you call him?'
'He went out. He'll be back soon. We had thought of entering Bertram for Quickest-that is, if you have no objection?'
The Superlative looked startled, then smiled oddly.
'Oh, no possible objection, of course. Good day to you all. And to you, dearest lady! I shall be first at your side when you reach the Temple to-morrow.'
Speaking of Bertram, however, had recalled something to Viola. 'Just a moment, Mr. Cleverest. I beg your pardon. Cleverest, then. Terry, have you that watch?'
'Did I lose it here?' Cleverest's eyes lighted as Trenmore extended the expensive timepiece.
'It fell from your pocket perhaps?' suggested Viola demurely.
'I am a thousand times obliged to you, Miss Trenmore. That watch was given me by my uncle, Mr. Justice Supreme. The old gentleman would never have forgiven me if I had lost it.'
'So, he's the nephew of Mr. Justice Supreme, is he?' murmured Viola, when the Superlative had at last departed. 'Now I wonder if that relationship is the card he has up his sleeve?'
'Viola, if you've an inkling of further mystery, save it till I'm rested from what we've had,' protested her brother. 'Let's ring for the servant the way we'll be having our suppers. I think we do need them!'
CHAPTER 14: THE THREAT OF PENN
THAT night Mr. Arnold Bertram did not return to the Hotel Belleclaire. Moreover, Trenmore discovered with some annoyance that the Cerberus was again missing. He had thrust the thing in his pocket and forgotten it. Now the vial was gone, either lost in the streets, or, more probably, again confiscated by their rotund and assimilative friend the burglar.
Morning came, but no Bertram. Drayton was first dressed, and he was waiting in the parlor when the others appeared. A moment of silence was followed by a sudden deep chuckle from Trenmore and a little shriek from Viola.
'Why, you two absurd men!' she cried. 'You're wearing exactly the same things as yesterday! You haven't even had them pressed! Terry, your trousers look as if you'd slept in them-not a sign of a crease. What will your true love be thinking?'
Trenmore flung back his head with a comical look of defiance. 'Let her think what she likes. I've no liking for goods no better than stole, Penn Service or no Penn Service! I pay for my clothes, or I'll wear none. But you've no cause to be talking, Viola. Where's the pretty new gown you were to be wearing? And Bobby, what about those fine ash-grays you were choosing so carefully yesterday?'
'I meant to wear them. If we intended to keep faith with the lady who provided them, I should certainly have worn them. As it is-' Drayton shrugged.
'And I,' confessed Viola, 'couldn't bring myself to touch anything that woman gave me. She must take us as we are or not at all. It's ten o'clock-and there's the telephone. I expect that is my Lady Green-eyes.'
It was. She looked disappointed and more than a trifle hurt when she saw their costumes and learned their intention not to change. She herself was resplendent in a gown of pale-yellow satin, under a magnificent fitted coat of Irish lace. Trenmore placated her for their shabby appearance as best he could, and dropping that subject, though with obvious annoyance, the Loveliest inquired for the missing Bertram.
'We've no idea at all where he is, madam. He went out last night, though I argued it with him, and we've seen neither hide nor hair of the lad since that time.'
She seemed little concerned. 'He will probably show up at the Temple. If he has lost his green button and got himself arrested, he is sure to be there. Shall we go now?'
Descending to the lady's car, they found Broad Street crowded with an immense and mostly stationary throng. Narrow lanes had been cleared by the police for such pedestrians and motor cars as might prefer moving along. A few cars belonging, they were informed, to various officials, were parked in the middle of the street.
'What are they all waiting for?' queried Viola.
'For the competitions. They don't often take so much interest. This time the Numbers have a candidate for musical director, and they are waiting for blocks around until the result is announced.'
Drayton wondered why such a large percentage of the population were concerned over an apparently unimportant office; but he made no comment.
The run from the hotel to the former City Hall was a short one. As the car swung into the open traffic lane, Drayton looked ahead. There, closing the brief vista, loomed that huge gray bulk of masonry which is the heart-the center-the very soul, as one might say, of the ancient Quaker City.
From the street no sign of the golden dome was visible, nor any exterior hint of the vast innovations within. There rose the tower upon whose pinnacle, visible for many a mile around, stood the giant figure of that good old Quaker, his vast hand forever outstretched in gentle blessing. There he stood, as he had stood for troublous centuries. Below him was the familiar clock and a wraith of white mist obscured its face. Drayton remembered how, on previous visits to Philadelphia, that wraith of mist had prevented him from seeing the time. The wind was perpetually blowing it across. And Broad Street-he had once been here through a city election. All Broad Street had been crowded, just as it was crowded now, with people in fixed masses before the bulletin boards. The bulletins were missing now, but what other difference was there in appearance?
A yellow multiplicity of numbered buttons and yes, the emblem displayed above the Public Building's southern entrance. Then it had a huge replica of the Knight Templar insignia, with 'Welcome K. T.' in varicolored bulbs. Now the emblem was a sword-crossed bell. Above it gleamed four ominous figures-2118. That was the difference.
Drayton emerged from his homesick comparisons to find that the car was drawing up at the curb. Where had once been an open archway were doors of studded iron. A traffic policeman hurried forward and hustled the crowd aside. He used his stick freely, but the crowd did not even growl. It sickened Drayton-not so much the blows, as the spirit in which they were taken. Had the backbone of this people been entirely softened in the vinegar of even two centuries of oppression? And these were his own people, or their descendants-his fellow Americans! That hurt.
Doubtless, however, as he became adjusted to new usages, the injustice and oppressions of the year A.D. 2118 would seem no more intolerable than the tyrannies and injustices of the twentieth century.
The iron doors swung wide and closed silently behind the little party. They found themselves in a long corridor, walled and floored with polished red marble, artificially lighted and lined with doors, paneled with frosted glass. 'Part of the administrative section,' explained the Loveliest, as she hurried them along the passage. 'These are all offices of the different departments. Would you care to see the crowd under the Dome from the balcony?'
Without waiting for assent, she led the way up a short flight of red marble stairs. Suddenly they emerged from beneath a low arch and looked out into the space beneath the Dome of Justice. They stood upon a little
