He bent, swiftly. It was a human body—human, but pitifully misshapen.
"The monkey!" Kerns exclaimed.
"It is not a monkey."
"Sure, I know. It's the thing we took for one. Can you feel the heart, Reverend?"
Daunt's skilful fingers were busy for a moment.
"Quite dead. Burned, I believe," he said.
They stood silent in the darkness. Then Kerns' practical nature took hold.
"Nothing we can do. No use standing around. Feel that water? It's getting deeper. The fire started off with an explosion. That's what the firemen told me. Something must have broken through then from the river bed into this tunnel. It began to fill slowly. Now it's coming fast. The room we fell into will fill as quick as the rest of it. Our only chance is to run like hell. Maybe there's a way out at the other end."
As he talked, he plunged forward, tugging Daunt after him. The water—colder now—rose from ankles to knees.
"Let's yell again," Kerns suggested. "Somebody may hear us—somewhere."
They shouted, with the full power of their lungs.
"Keep it up!" There was a high-pitched edge to his voice. "Want to die here like a rat? It's up to our waists, now!"
Daunt helped with the shouting. Otherwise, he did not speak. Kerns' strength pulled him on through the rising water. Using his free hand with a swimming motion, he strained his eyes in a hopeless effort to see; to see the least sliver of light. But the darkness wrapped them like a suffocating blanket. It seemed scarcely less solid than the water.
"Keep going, Reverend," Kerns encouraged him, cheerfully. He was master of himself again. "We're not licked yet. We can swim. We don't quit!"
They were swept off their feet. Daunt jerked his hand free, and struck out desperately.
Kerns' voice, at his shoulder, was still cheerful.
"Hate like the devil to cash in just now," it said. "You know, Reverend, I've been working on a case. Hate to leave it unfinished."
"What case?" Daunt tried to charge his reply with equal courage.
"Lefronti. Dope. Whole town's flooded with it. I'm trying"
His words stopped short. A tremendous suction came suddenly from below. An incredible mouth seemed to have opened. Close beside him, Daunt heard a shriek of horror, hard to recognize as coming from Kerns' throat. He was sucked down.
His fingers, clawing vainly at the sucking water, touched Kerns' body.
Then an insufferable, even pressure, with a roar to it like the sea, forced his ear-drums inward. It filched the air from his lungs, squeezed his brain.
A cold hand seemed to cover his lips, his nostrils, his eyes, and force him slowly into oblivion.
3. The Death of the Touching Fingers
Daunt opened his eyes. He shut them again at once, to steady himself. This could not be true.
But it was true; either that, or he had gone mad. For when he looked once more, he was lying, not in water, but in a narrow alley. He had been in thick darkness; now it was light. The buildings on each side of the alley were of a curious construction he had never seen before. He seemed to recall having read of buildings like them; he could not remember where.
