Krakatit

who, with due apologies, brought him a registration form to fill up. Prokop put down the necessary particulars and hoped that he had dealt with the matter; but scarcely had the porter read his name than he became excited and begged Prokop not to leave the room. A certain gentleman from abroad had asked him to telephone to him at his hotel the moment he learned that Eng. Prokop had arrived. If Mr. Eng. would allow it, etc. Mr. Eng. was so furious with himself that he would have allowed him to cut his throat. He sat down to wait, painfully resigning himself to enduring the pain in his head. In a quarter of an hour the porter was back and handed him a card. On it was printed:

Sir Reginald Carson

President of the International
Wireless Corporation

London

“Show him in,” ordered Prokop, and he was extremely surprised that that fellow Carson had not told him the evening before about his honours and that today he should have arrived so ceremoniously; he was also a little curious to see how Carson would look after that wild night. Then his eyes simply started out of his head with astonishment. There came into the room a completely strange gentleman, a good foot taller than the Mr. Carson of yesterday.

“Very glad to see you,” said the strange gentleman slowly, and bowed just as low as if he had been a telegraph pole.

Prokop made an indeterminate noise and gave him a seat. The gentleman sat down on it squarely and began very leisurely to peel off a pair of magnificent kid gloves. He was a very tall and extraordinarily serious gentleman with a horse-like face with very precise lines on it. In his tiepin was an enormous Indian opal, on his gold watch-chain an antique cameo. He had the enormous feet of a golf player, and was, in brief, every inch an English gentleman. Prokop was stupefied. “Please?” he managed to say finally, when the silence had become unbearable.

The gentleman was in no hurry. “Without doubt,” he began slowly in English, “without doubt you must have been surprised when you first came across my announcement in the paper. I assume that you are Eng. Prokop, the author of some extremely interesting articles on explosives.”

Prokop nodded silently.

“I am very glad to meet you,” said Sir Reginald without haste. “I have been wanting to see you in connection with a matter of great scientific interest and practically of great importance for our company, the International Wireless Corporation, whose president I have the honour to be. It is of no less importance for the International Union for Wireless Telegraphy, who have been so good as to elect me as their general secretary. You will certainly be somewhat astonished,” he continued without being out of breath, “that these important concerns should have sent me to see you when your distinguished work is in quite another field. Allow me.” With these words Sir Reginald opened his crocodile leather wallet and pulled out some papers, a writing block and a gold pencil.

“About nine months ago,” he began slowly, putting a pair of gold pince-nez on his nose so as to see better, “the European wireless stations noticed the fact⁠—”

“Pardon me,” Prokop interrupted him, unable to control himself, “did you put those announcements in the papers?”

“Certainly I did. The stations became aware, then, of certain regular disturbances⁠—”

“⁠—on Tuesdays and Fridays, I know. Who told you about Krakatit?”

“I proposed to come to that later,” said this venerable gentleman somewhat reproachfully. “Well, I will pass over the details, assuming that to a certain extent you are informed regarding our aims and oh⁠—eh⁠—ah⁠—”

“⁠—regarding a secret international conspiracy, eh?”

Sir Reginald opened his pale blue eyes very wide. “Excuse me, but to what conspiracy do you refer?”

“Well, to those secret messages at night, to the secret organization which sends them out⁠—”

Sir Reginald cut him short. “Fantasy,” he said regretfully, “pure fantasy. I am aware that the Tribune when our company advertised such a relatively large reward⁠ ⁠… circulated the report⁠—”

“I know,” said Prokop quickly, afraid that this leisurely gentleman would begin to discuss the point.

“Yes. Pure invention. The whole business has nothing but a commercial basis. It is in the interests of a certain person to demonstrate the unreliability of our stations, if you understand me. He wishes to undermine public confidence. Unfortunately our receivers and⁠—ah⁠—coherers are unable to discover the particular type of waves which bring this disturbance about. And since we have received reports to the effect that you have in your possession a certain substance or chemical which reacts in the most remarkable way to these disturbances⁠—”

“Reports from whom?”

“From your colleague, Mr.⁠—ah⁠—Mr. Thomas. Mr. Thomas⁠—ah.” Sir Reginald extracted a letter from the bundle of papers he had brought with him. “ ‘Dear Sir,’ ” he read with a certain amount of effort, “ ‘I have seen in the newspapers an announcement of a reward, etc., etc. As at the present moment it is impossible for me to leave Balttin, where I am at work in connection with a certain discovery, and as a matter of such importance cannot be dealt with by letter, I beg you to seek out in Prague a friend of mine with whom I have worked for many years, Mr. Eng. Prokop, who is in possession of a newly discovered substance, Krakatit, the tetrargon of a certain lead salt, the synthesis of which is made by utilizing the effect of a high frequency current. Krakatit reacts, as various exact experiments have demonstrated, to certain mysterious disturbing waves by a powerful explosion, from which it follows that it will have decisive significance for determining the nature of the waves in question. In view of the importance of the matter I would suggest, on behalf of myself and my friend, that the reward offered should be considerably rai⁠—’ ” Sir Reginald cleared his throat. “That is really all,” he said. “We could discuss the question of the reward separately. Signed by Mr. Thomas in Balttin.”

“H’m,” said Prokop,