CHAPTER I
The New Post
AS Alan Macrae watched the last hues of sunset from Plymouth Hoe pale over Mount Edgcumbe, he stood out in marked contrast to the stolid West Country types around him. His tall loose-limbed figure, his brooding gaze, his nervous highly-strung manner, marked him as a stranger. A touch on the arm recalled him from his apparently sombre thoughts—the touch of a girl who had approached him unobserved.
At the sight of her his melancholy vanished.
"I'm so sorry I'm late, Alan," she cried gaily, "but the manager had a fit."
"A fit?" questioned Macrae.
"Yes, of work," exclaimed the girl: "and he kept me doing letters, quite indifferent to the fact that this is our last night together. Let's walk, shall we?"
As they walked slowly along the Hoe, the contrast between the two was remarkable. The brisk alertness of May Trsherne seemed to accentuate her companion's moodiness and psychic gloom.
They had been engaged for a year, and were waiting only for Fortune to smile upon them to get married. As May had expressed it, "Bread and cheese and love are all right; but you must be sure of the bread and cheese."
Macrae had by sheer merit obtained an ap- pointment at "a foreign radio station." That was ail he knew, beyond the -■fast that the salary was a handsome one,. On the morrow he was to start for his unknown destina- tion, where for a period of six months he would be lost to the world. He would be allowed neither to send nor to receive letters, and was sworn to divulge nothing as to where he had been or upon what engaged. "Perhaps I've been a fool to take the post," he said, looking down at his companion with pessimis- tic eyes. "That's not flattering, Alan," said the girl gaily, determined to cheer him out of his gloomy mood. "You did it so that we could " She paused. tm^e.mautMimimii mi^m. "Get married," he con- cluded the sentence for her. "Yes, I know; but think of six months without you, in a place that I know nothing about." "Cheer up, Alan!" cried May brightly. "It'll soon pass. It was splendid of you to accept it. I'm tired of Sales, Limited, and still more tired of its iran- ager. He's such a moth-eaten little worm." ire beginning in this issue, STATION X, which consider by far the greatest radio story that was ever written. At least we have never read or seen a belter one. Lest you believe that it is impossible for one being to interchange his mind with that of another and thereby control him physically, please consider the following; In 1923 the publishers of this magazine, m conjunction with Station WHN, of New York City, then healed at Ridgewood, L. L, and Mr. Joseph H. Dunninger, per- formed the following experiment: On the morning of July 14, 1923, a subject was placed in front of the loud speaker in RADIO NEWS LABO- RATORIES at S3 Park Place, New York City, Mr, Dunninger was at the broadcast station WHN, and by commanding ' the subject, a young man, Mr. Leslie B. Duncan, to fall asleep, he impressed his will upon the sub- ject, from a distance of over fifteen miles, until the latter fell into a hypnotic trance., . The subject was examined by over twelve newspaper reporters assembled at 53 Park Place. Long needles were stuck through the subject's arm, {drawing no blood) and then Dunninger, from a distance, commanded Duncan fall into a cataleptic stale, which prevailed for abput hour. The subject finally was brought again to His senses by Mr. Dunninger's commiiids issuing out of the loud speaker. Hypnotising by raaio was therefore proclaimed a suc- cess. A full accon if of the experiment may be found in the September, 1923, issue of SCIENCE AND INVEN- TION. "Well, yes, you are right. May. The time will seem long, no doubt; but as it carries double pay I ought not to grumble." He smiled down at her, adding, "That it will bring a certain day nearer is the best part of it." "Meanwhile," said May, "I shall picture you lead- ing a sort of lighthouse existence, and in off-duty momenta thinking about me." As she spoke her eyes-rested on the beam of Eddystone, which the gathering darkness already made plainly visible off . the Cornish coast. Discussing the Dangers at Station X (( ""0U are right! On duty and off, my thoughts Y will run pretty much on you, dear," he A said. ^Now, Alan, tell me why you aren't, or should I say weren't, a bit cheerful this evening. It's a com- pliment, of course, but is there anything that's worrying you?" She looked up'at him inquiringly. "1 suppose I've got the blues. I find myself op- pressed with the feeling that something is going to happen. I can't tell what, but I fee! that the future holds something dark and horrible." "Tell me, Alan, dear, do you know of anything in your coming duties that suggests danger to you? Will you be among savages? Has anything hap- pened to any one at the post? Or is it only just a feeling?" "It rests on nothing, but-^ — " "Then for goodness 'sake, my dear boy, don't (worry yourself about nothing," said May, with relief. "Here," wheeling him around, "let us face the wind, and it will blow such cobwebs out of your half a i She cast about in her mind how to hearten her lover, ar,'<Mier eye caught sight of the statue of Sir Francis Drake. "Did you ever hear of Drake, Alan?" she asked, thinking it possible that he might not, knowing his educational shortcomings, for which she had decided that the future should yet make amends. As they approached the statue, she told hin -about Drake and that immortal game her favorite hero had played c^f this spot, of the threatening danger, MWg»ww?MgB»7i«tiaaBaii!fl and how the great De- vonian refused to let the breathless messenger worry or even hurry him. The Celt, ever quick of apprehension and self- application, had no need for the point to be labored. "Different men have different natures," said Macrae, in a restrained voice. "It does not follow that any one kind has all the courage. It is (illegible text)
