chain. It lay close beside the door through which Long Tom had just passed.
Anyone going up or down the corridor could have dropped it there accidentally.
But the single blade had been melted off for half its length. It was stained a metallic
blue as if it had been exposed to terrific heat.
Immediately above the spot where it had lain was a wall socket into which the hotel
chambermaid probably plugged the vacuum cleaner used to tidy up the corridor carpet.
The receptacle was burned about the edges.
Long Tom dropped the knife into his pocket. It was obvious that someone had thrust
the blade into the wall socket. That would blow out the fuses—and put out the lights.
Dousing his flash, Long Tom proceeded, displaying even more caution than previously.
Coming to Room 44, he halted, ears sharpening.
The unearthly music the slender electrical expert had twice heard aboard the Transylvania came floating out from behind the closed door!
Moving cautiously, Long Tom sidled up to the door, placed an oversized ear to the
panel.
Inside, a clattering came through the thick panel. It was mechanical and went on and
on, as a kind of counterpoint to the music, whose wavering strains suggested a dying
thing from another sphere. It brought the gooseflesh rising on Long Tom’s forearms
and prickled his scalp. He rubbed the back of his neck as he contemplated his next
move.
Long Tom’s ears were large enough to be serviceable. But the sounds emanating from
the hotel room occupied one ear entirely. The other one, he was not focusing on. His
weight lay against the panel, so eager was the electrical wizard to capture every
sound within.
Consequently, Long Tom failed to hear the panel directly behind him fall open, and
a shadowy figure begin creeping up behind him. The deep nap of the carpet absorbed
all footfalls. The absence of lights also aided the stealthy one.
Thus it was that when two hands seized him, Long Tom Roberts was caught entirely unawares.
“Hey!” he howled. “Wha—?”
Something made a swishing sound and Long Tom saw stars. “Ahr-r-r!”
Dazed, Long Tom was hauled backwards, and snatched through the open door of the room
from which his attacker had stolen. The door clapped shut and many hands caught at
him, snatching and grabbing roughly.
THE room within was blacked out in some manner. It was a warm box of ink. A steam
radiator could be heard clanking. Long Tom plunged into it and the door clapped shut
behind him.
Scrambling to his feet, the electrical wizard was momentarily disoriented.
The sounds of the music and the accompanying clattering came, muffled and indistinct,
as if from far away. He peered about. Discerned nothing.
But Long Tom could sense that he was surrounded by shadowy figures. They pressed close.
There was something about them that evoked a palpable aura of malevolence.
Fishing into a pocket, he found his flashlight, drew it out. His thumb felt for the
button.
Abruptly, the flash was knocked from Long Tom’s hand!
Long Tom was no slouch in the pugilistic department. Even though he could not see,
he lashed out with a fist and connected to a jaw. It felt human enough, but there
was the strange sensation of his knuckles skidding off tough hide.
That foe fell backward, making a weird flapping pelican sort of sound.
Suddenly, Long Tom smelled leather. To his mind came the familiar aroma of old boxing
gloves.
Several figures closed in. Long Tom lashed out. This time his fists impacted things
that were not jaws. They, too, felt smooth and leathery.
The huddling things swallowed him in an embrace that felt like bundled wings. Great
leather wings.
Reaching for his supermachine pistol, Long Tom never got it out of its armpit holster.
Hands clutched at him. They felt like claws. They tore at his hat, his hair, seized
his arms and wrists. Before he knew it, Long Tom was being pushed to the carpet by
unseen horrors that flapped and