The suggestion of the Star came like a revelation. It was accepted
everywhere. Not only were these three vehicles the work of the same
inventor; they were the same machine!
It was not easy to see how the remarkable transformation could be
practically accomplished from one means of locomotion to the other. How could an automobile become a boat, and yet more, a submarine? All the machine seemed to lack was the power of flying through the air. Nevertheless, everything that was known of the three different machines, as to their size, their shape, their lack of odor or of steam, and above all their remarkable speed, seemed to imply their identity. The public, grown blase with so many excitements, found in this new marvel a stimulus to reawaken their curiosity.
The newspapers dwelt now chiefly on the importance of the invention. This new engine, whether in one vehicle or three, had given proofs of its power. What amazing proofs! The invention must be bought at any price. The United States government must purchase it at once for the use of the nation. Assuredly, the great European powers would stop at nothing to be beforehand with America, and gain possession of an engine so invaluable for military and naval use. What incalculable advantages would it give to any nation, both on land and sea! Its destructive powers could not even be estimated, until its qualities and limitations were better known. No amount of money would be too great to pay for the secret; America could not put her millions to better use.
But to buy the machine, it was necessary to find the inventor; and
there seemed the chief difficulty. In vain was Lake Kirdall searched
from end to end. Even its depths were explored with a sounding-line
without result. Must it be concluded that the submarine no longer
lurked beneath its waters? But in that case, how had the boat gotten
away? For that matter, how had it come? An insoluble problem!
The submarine was heard from no more, neither in Lake Kirdall nor
elsewhere. It had disappeared like the automobile from the roads, and
like the boat from the shores of America. Several times in my
interviews with Mr. Ward, we discussed this matter, which still
filled his mind. Our men continued everywhere on the lookout, but as
unsuccessfully as other agents.
On the morning of the twenty-seventh of June, I was summoned into the
presence of Mr. Ward.
"Well, Strock," said he, "here is a splendid chance for you to get
your revenge."
"Revenge for the Great Eyrie disappointment?"
"Of course."
"What chance?" asked I, not knowing if he spoke seriously, or in jest.
"Why, here," he answered. "Would not you like to discover the
inventor of this three-fold machine?"
"I certainly should, Mr. Ward. Give me the order to take charge of
the matter, and I will accomplish the impossible, in order to
succeed. It is true, I believe it will be difficult."
"Undoubtedly, Strock. Perhaps even more difficult than to penetrate
into the Great Eyrie."
It was evident that Mr. Ward was intent on rallying me about my
unsuccess. He would not do that, I felt assured, out of mere
unkindness. Perhaps then he meant to rouse my resolution. He knew me
well; and realized that I would have given anything in the world to
recoup my defeat. I waited quietly for new instructions.
Mr. Ward dropped his jesting and said to me very generously, "I know, Strock, that you accomplished everything that depended on human powers; and that no blame attaches to you. But we face now a matter very different from that of the Great Eyrie. The day the government decides to force that secret, everything is ready. We have only to spend some thousands of dollars, and the road will be open."
"That is what I would urge."
"But at present," said Mr. Ward, shaking his head, "it is much more
important to place our hands on this fantastic inventor, who so
constantly escapes us. That is work for a detective, indeed; a master
detective!"
"He has not been heard from again?"
"No; and though there is every reason to believe that he has been, and still continues, beneath the waters of Lake Kirdall, it has been impossible to find any trace of him anywhere around there. One would almost fancy he had the power of making himself invisible, this Proteus of a mechanic!"
"It seems likely," said I, "that he will never be seen until he
wishes to be."