Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-07-07

Professor Augustus >. r y. Van DuSen-
The Thinking Machine-opened his eyes
from sound sleep, rose from the bed,
turned on an electric hght, and squinted
at the clock the table 1t was just hafpast one;
he had been asleep for only little more than
hour. He slid his small feet into pair OF soft slip
pers and went to the telephone.
'Hello!" he called irritaby.
Is that Professor Van Dusen?" came the answer
in a mans voice-a voice tense with nervous
citement, and quick in enuncaton that the words
tumbled over another
YES replied the scientist. What is it"
It's matter of life and death!' came the hur-
RED response in the same m, hasty tone: Can you
sputtered incoherently, and the remainder of the
question was lost
For an instant The Thinking Machine listened in
tenty, seeking to interpret the interruption; then
the sputtering ceased and the wire was silent.
Who is this talking?" he demanded.
The answer almost a shout; it was as if the
speaker strangling and the words came
plosivey with distinct effort. My name is"
And that was all. The voice was swallowed up
suddenly in the deafenng go crack of an explosion
Thinking Machine lodged. The receiver sang shrilly
in his ear and the transmitter vbrated audibly;
then the instrument was mute agan-the connec-
Hello, helo!' the scientist called again and
again; but there was no answer he moved the
hook up and down several times to attract CentralS
attention. But that brought no response What
had happened had at least temporarily
dered his own line lifeless Dear me! Dear mel"
he grumbed petuantly. Most extraordinary"
For time he stood thoughtfully staring at the
instrument; then went over and sat down on the
edge of his bed Sleep was banished now. Here
a problem and strange one! Every faculty
of his wonderful brain was concentrated upon it.
The minutes sped he sat there turning it all
over in his mind, analyzing it, regarding it from
every possible viewpoint, while tiny wrinkles were
growing in the enormous brow. Finally he
Guided to try the telephone again. Perhaps it had
only been momentarily deadened by the shock.
He returned to the instrument and picked up the
receiver. The rhythmic buzz of the wire told him
instantly that the line was working. Central an
swered promptly
Can you tell me the number which was just
connected with this?' he inquired I'VE were in
terrupted."
I'll see if l can get it," was the reply.
It's of the utmost importance" he went on to
explain tersely; a matter OF life and death, even
I'll do what l can Central assured him; but
there is no record of the calls YOU know and there
may have been fifty in the last ten fifteen minutes,
and of the operators don remember them -
She obligingly gave him quarter of an hour she
sought clue to the number
The Thinking Machine waited patiently for the
report, staring dumbly at the transmitter mean
while, and at last it came. No one remembered the
number there record of it. Central
sorry With curt word of thanks the scientist
called for of the big newspaper offices and asked
for Hutchinson Hatch reporter.
Mr.. Hatch ism ln came the response.
Do YOU know where he is? queried the scientist
and there was shadow of anxiety in the perpetu-
ally rritated voice.
No; home | suppose
The man of science drew a long, quick breath-it
might have been one of uneasiness-and called the
newspaper mans home number. OF course the
mysterious message the telephone had not been
from Hatch. 1t not the reporters voice, he
positive OF that, and yet there was bare
chance that
Hello!" Hatch growed amiably but sleepiy
The Thinking Machines drawn face showed
vague relief he recognized the tone. That you
Mr.. Hateh?" he asked.
"In anv trouhe7"