Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-11-24

physician asked me some questions, and an
swered them to the best OF my ability He
did not smile at my fright; only shook his
head and gave me something which made me
sleep again. And so for a week / lay there,
helpless. half asleep, and half awake. But
one day | awoke to clear consciousness, COM
paratively free of the torture of the broken
ankle, and myself again. Then the physician
and ! discussed the matter at length.
He listened respectfully as ! repeated it
ALL and at the end shook his head.
There IS no lntersecting road between
the small store of which you speak and the
outskirts of Millen,' he said positively.
" But, man, was there! / protested. |
turned into the other road, and ran along till
saw the house in the open field. | tell you
- But he let me go no further. l knew why.
He thought it was some mental vagary; for
after awhile he gave me pill and went away.
So resolved to solve the matter for myself
would go back along that road by day, and
find that silent old man, and, if not the house
itself, the charred spot where it had stood.
would know that intersection; | would know
even the path which led from the mysterious
road off into the wood. When found these
knew the maze would fade into some simple,
plain explanation-perhaps absurd
one.
So bided my time. In the course of an
other week l able to leave my cot and
hobble about with the aid of crutches. 1t was
then that took the physician in my car and
went back along the highway toward Pei
ham. 1t was all unfamiliar ground to me;
there road, and suddenly there ahead
of me was the little store where | had bought
the gasolene that night. | would question the
old man | had seen there; but there was no
old man. The little store was unoccupied; it
seemed to have been unoccupled for weeks.
Il turned back and traversed the road
toward Mien again. | recognized nothing;
couldn't find a trace of a bypath from the
highway in any direction. And once more
went over the ground at night. Nothing!
After that the physician, singularly patient
man, accompanied me as | hobbled through
the forest each side Of the road seeking
that house, or its ashes l never saw anything
to lead me, to even suggest, single incident OF
that awful night.
know the country. every inch of it,
the physician told me. There isn't any such
place as you mention
And-well, that's all l know his opinion
was that my story was some sort of delusion-a
dream But how he accounts for the broken
ankle don't know. Then the condition of my
clothing | had been compelled to discard
everything | wore for garments sent down
from the city. And SO IN time ! came to be-
heve the experience dream. / was growing
content with this story, even knowing it to
be wrong, because it brought mental rest, and
was beginning to be myself again
Then one day had occasion to search the
coat | had worn that night for some papers
which had been misplaced In the course of
the search | thrust my hand into an outside
pocket, and drew out-a little ivory god, Sit
ting on his launches grinning hideously!
Now l am like this-and the little god sits
up laughing at me. He knows!"
When he had finished reading The Thinking
Machine dropped back into the chair, with
squirt eyes turned steadily upward, and long
slender fingers pressed tip to tip Hutchinson
Hatch, reporter, sat staring in silence at the
drawn, inscrutable face of the scientist
And the writer of this?" demanded The
Thinking Machine at last
His name is Harold Fairbanks" the re-
porter explained. He was removed to an
asylum yesterday, hopelessly insane"
The explanation OF this mystery aviH appear in
next Sundays magazine.