late. In the corridor a few hastily-brought lamps cast a dim light. Percy
collided against Doctor Knox entering the building.

"Not fixed yet?" asked the latter in evident disappointment. "What's the
matter?"

"I don't know," said Darrow slowly; "it puzzles me. It's more than an
ordinary break of connections or short-circuiting through apparatus. If
one could imagine a big building like this polarized in some way--anyhow,
the electricity is dead. Look here." He pulled an electric flash-light
from his pocket. "Bought this fresh on my way here. Tested it, of course.
Now, there's nothing wonderful about these toys going back on a man;
_but_"--he pressed the button and peered down the lens--"this is a funny
coincidence." He turned the lens toward his friend. The filament was dark.




CHAPTER III


THE MOVING FINGER WRITES

The condition of affairs in the Atlas Building lasted long enough to carry
the matter up to the experts in the employ of the companies; that is to
say, until about three o'clock the following morning. Then, without
reason, and all at once, the whole building from top to bottom was a blaze
of incandescent light.

One of the men, stepping to the nearest telephone, unhooked the receiver.