sion that developed from the time the first one landed I mean the belief that these shells were visitors from some distant world out in space."
"To be sure he did, and this fitted in nicely with his entire scheme. The chief idea of this Tibetan dictator is to secure world control for himself and his clique, and still remain hidden away in his own mysterious country. That’s what I mean by ‘long distance’ conquest. You see, these Tibetans are forbidden by their religion to mingle with the outside world, for that would contaminate them. By means of these trick projectiles, Lun-Dhag planned to bombard any portion of the earth at will. If the world believed that they were being attacked from somewhere in space, all the better for his plans. No one would dream of hunting for the source of trouble so close at hand as the continent of Asia. He could send his demands for the best in Western scientific skill, for the finest of treasures, if he desired them, for hostages And his reversible projectile would return to Tibet with its cargo in just as slick a manner as you please. He need not risk either his own neck or the life of a single native in this strange, one-sided war. He could wipe out a city at one stroke, terrorize an entire nation—in fact the whole civilized world—as he has succeeded in doing so well. And yet, with all that, he could remain here in absolute security, impregnable to attack, because not a soul would even dream that the source of all the fireworks was located right here in this corner of the globe. Lun-Dhag and his people may be barred by their Lama religion from mingling with the rest of humanity, but they could nevertheless maintain a ruling hand of steel even from a distance by means of their damnable shells. A mighty neat scheme, I'd call it. And one that could very easily work out, to the utter ruin of the civilized world."
"But, if Lun-Dhag's religion prohibits him or the rest of the Tibetans from coming in contact with outsiders, how do you explain his readiness to accept Western chemists to help out in perfecting the shell mechanism? And why is he so willing to enlist you and me in his organization? Wouldn't he become defiled by associating with us?"
"Well, I've been thinking about that, Ray. Lun-Dhag undoubtedly realizes that a grave emergency exists. If he cannot get his projectile device to work accurately, then his scheme for Tibetan control of the world isn't worth a darn. My theory is that he's making certain allowances for just this one time. He's probably had it all worked out to the last detail. If he received the chemists that he demanded, he would take full advantage of all the skill they could furnish him in this trying emergency. Then, after their job was completed, and there was no further use for their technical genius, and no further need for their defiling personal presence, why then . . . you can imagine the rest."
HALE was positive that he and his chum were under constant and close scrutiny. He knew that every action of theirs was being watched, and every word of conversation apprehended. It was useless to expect privacy, however much it might appear that they were being given free and untrammeled rein in their new existence in Lhasa. It was too much to expect from Lun-Dhag that he would place implicit trust in two youthful strangers from a race which he was at the very moment aiming to conquer and destroy. This unscrupulous genius had undoubtedly taken means and installed devices to insure an incessant surveillance of the two Americans, twenty-four hours a day.
Confident that such was the case, Hale might have been more cautious in his actions and more judicious in his talks with Fletcher. But he took no pains to mince his words. During the lengthy discourse together, in which Hale opened the eyes of his friend to the full significance of Lun-Dhag's drastic schemes for world conquest, as well as in all subsequent conversations along the same lines, Hale never hesitated to call a spade a spade. He was fully aware that Lun-Dhag had made it easy for him to gain all the information that he now had regarding the Tibetan plot. He knew that the Asiatic chieftain was anxious that the young adventurers should be told all. So that he had no fear about discussing the entire matter rather freely with Fletcher.
But Hale was absorbing more than Lun-Dhag was giving him credit for. In the projectile plants, the chemical works, the metallurgical establishment, and in the firing and receiving chambers Hale kept his eyes open and his senses alert. And some of the things he learned he did not confide to Fletcher, bosom friend though he was. Those details he stowed away carefully in his mind, not even trusting to written notes. When the time came, he was confident that these mental data would stand him in good stead. Meantime, although he dared not breathe a word of those matters to Fletcher, there grew up a mute and mutual understanding, whose language was nothing more than an occasional significant glance. They realized their mission—they were fully conscious of the weight of responsibility they had assumed when they launched forth in the Tibetan projectile that memorable night in Fairmount Park. And they were both motivated by a grim determination to see the adventure through just as they had planned it. Even more momentous was the task now than they had realized at the start. In the light of their present knowledge, matters were beginning to take a pretty crucial turn for the safety and welfare of the entire civilized world.
Activity in the projectile plants was going on with unabated zeal. Despite the erratic behavior of these missiles, the factories kept on turning them out by the wholesale. Many of them were tested out on special proving grounds near the city, and Hale had a good opportunity of studying the manner in which these infernal machines behaved, or misbehaved. Meantime Lun-Dhag continued to dispatch projectiles to America and Europe at regular intervals. They contained the same urgent demands for chemists. Apparently he was not at all ready to give up.
The two adventurers from the west had an ample opportunity of following these shells in their flight through the medium of radio news reports that recounted the arrival of each new missile. It was astonishing to them how many of the projectiles never reached their mark. One afternoon, in the space of several hours, no less than thirty-five huge shells were fired, each identical with the rest, each containing the self-same message in Italian, all destined for Rome. The reports that came in early in the evening told of the fall of three of them, two in the Mediterranean, and one on the island of Sicily. Whether the remainder fell unnoticed into the ocean or whether they became diverted from their course and left the gravitational field of the earth forever, neither Lun-Dhag nor the most astute of his scientists had any means if determining. Here was certainly a powerful
