Originally published in the October, 1934 issue of Operator 5TM_______________________________________________________________________________________________________Copyright 1934 by Popular Publications Inc.Copyright renewed 1962 and assigned to Argosy Communications, Inc.All rights reserved. Licensed to Vintage New MediaOperator 5 is a trademark of Argosy Communications, Inc.By Curtis SteeleA powerful army of invasion--armed with the most ghostly modernweapons: bacteria, plagues, hideous diseases--lay carefully hiddenwithin the border of the United States, ready to strike at the heart of thenation, to kill, pillage, demolish . . . A foreign demagogue, mad-drunkwith power, greed, and lust, planned the slaughter of a million helplessmen and women, to sate his twisted, race-proud ambition. Belligerentnations watched and waited, sighting America helpless before them. Oneman--Operator 5--read the crimson writing on the wall--and he alonewas left to battle the frightful odds!____________________________________________________________________________________CHAPTER ONEThe First WarningOVER a placid sea, the S. Y. Canute, yachtof the millionaire Stewart Farrington, cruising inMassachusetts Bay not many nautical miles fromthe port of Boston, coursed at a brisk speed toclear the hook of Cape Cod. Its destination wasthe Potomac and a private pier at Washington,D.C.Silent-footed men moved alertly about itssand-stoned deck. They were Secret Serviceagents. Their attention centered, on the afterhouse, where bright light shone through drawncurtains. They turned as footfalls sounded andwatched a smartly-uniformed officer of the yachtapproach the door with a radiogram._______________________________________________________________________________________________Operator 5TMINVASION OF THE DARK LEGIONS Oct. 1934______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A production of Vintage New MediaTMwww.vintagelibrary.com2Captain Sheridan Kendrick knocked. Animpressive voice called, "Come in!" The master ofthe S. Y. Canute stepped into the luxurious cabinand saluted, respectfully, because the guest ofthe yacht was the Commander in Chief of theUnited States Army and Navy--the President ofthe nation."A radiogram in code, sir," said Kendrick,proffering the message.The grave-faced man in civilian clothesglanced at it, passed it to a young man of clean-cut face and alert manner sitting face him. Theyoung man peered at the cabalistic characters onthe paper and straightened with keen interest."Thank you, Captain. That's all," he said.Many things about him puzzled the captain.Early that afternoon, a fast navy amphibian hadhowled down from the sky toward the Canutecarrying three passengers. The plane had flownaway as soon as they had boarded the yacht. ThePresident had greeted this young man warmly, yetanxiously. Since his arrival, the Chief Executive'scruise had lost all aspect of a vacation. Behindlocked doors important matters had been andwere still being discussed.As the young man studied the message, hishand strayed unconsciously to his watch-chain.The hand was marked by a strange scar of blackand white and gray, shaped like a spread-wingedAmerican Eagle. The nimble fingers toyed with acharm--a delicately carved, golden skull andcrossbones with eyes of ruby red.Captain Kendrick did not know that thisyoung man was one whose work was done undercover of closest secrecy--work of vital importanceto the nation. He had been most instrumental inbringing the war between the United States andthe Yellow Empire to an abrupt close. Due to hisefforts the recent attempt to render the UnitedStates helpless through secret control of the steelindustry was averted. It was he who had stampedout the spread of the dread Zaavanism, and whohad almost single-handed defeated the diabolicalplan to cripple the nation by destroying itsgreatest leaders.A nation which did not even realize such aman existed owed him a tremendous debt. Hewas Operator 5, undercover ace of the UnitedStates Intelligence Service.The quiet man of middle age garbed in gray,with hair black as a raven's wing and dark eyesthat smoldered under heavy eye-brows, who hadaccompanied Operator 5 to the presidential yacht,was known only as Z-7. He was director of allactivities of the Intelligence service from secretheadquarters in Washington.The other of the three passengers who hadboarded the yacht was, surprisingly, a boy in hisearly teens, with an Irish face spotted withfreckles, a pugnaciously tilted nose and a broad,toothy grim. He wore on his left hand a strangering. On it was emblazoned, against a blackbackground, a white death's-head. On theforehead was marked the mysterious numeral 5.The emblem on the Irish lad's ring was areplica of Operator 5's watch-charm. The alert,self-reliant boy had in the past renderedinvaluable aid to Operator 5 in the handling ofseveral highly important cases. Too young tobecome a member of the Intelligence, he hadbeen promised credentials by Z-7 immediately onbecoming of age, and even now he functioned asOperator 5's unofficial assistant. All under coveroperators in the United States had been officiallyinformed that he could be recognized by this skullring. And Tim Donovan wore that ring with theutmost pride.A RADIO played softly in the cabin asOperator 5 decoded the radiogram, rendering itsstrange symbols into intelligible words with adarting pencil. He passed it to the President. Thetranslation read:PR--RELAY--SPECIAL ATTENTIONOPERATOR 5--REPORT JUSTRECEIVED FROM OPERATOR A-9ABOARD S. S. ULTIMA DUE TO DOCKNORTH RIVER TONIGHT--PASSENGERFROM LONDON NAME OF DAVIDBENVARD IDENTIFIED POSITIVELY ASYANAR LERDOFF--UNDER STRICTOBSERVATION--WILL BE SEIZED ONLANDING--WDC-13."Lerdoff!" the President exclaimed. "TheMilitary Commander of Eurland! ChancellorShreck's right-hand man! In the light of what youhave been telling me, Operator 5, this is startlingnews!""A daring move on Lerdoff's part, sir," theyoung man declared quietly. "I assure you there isa great deal behind it--a threat that the people ofthis country cannot even suspect."_______________________________________________________________________________________________Operator 5TMINVASION OF THE DARK LEGIONS Oct. 1934______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A production of Vintage New MediaTMwww.vintagelibrary.com3The President passed the message to Z-7.The Washington chief's dark eyes took on anominous glitter. The two men gazed intently atOperator 5."Every indication," he went on, "shows that agigantic militaristic machine is operating againstthe United States. These indications, Mr.President, might easily be overlooked. Eachsingle incident means little in itself; but, summedtogether, they assume the proportions of awarning that must be heeded.""You have begun this investigationindependently, Operator 5," the President saidsolemnly. "It comes as a blow to me. Yet I mustadmit that you have staggering proof."Operator 5 gazed at reports he hadprepared, correlating the facts of hundreds ofothers gathered by him for submission to theChief Executive."Sabotage," he declared, "is visible on everyhand. Secret damage has been done to our armyposts and naval vessels. Important documentsare disappearing from our governmental files.Sporadic outbreaks of serious disease scatteredover the country. All of them have begun to takeon a diabolical significance!""Mr. President," Z-7 pointed out quietly, "wemight never have known of this, had not Operator5 begun this investigation. Even I didn't knowwhat he was doing. We had arrested a naturalizedEurlander suspected of stealing guns from theSeventy-First Armory, in New York. We had noproof. We would have released him and missed avital clue--if Operator 5 had not taken up thatcase."He discovered, in the cotton packing of acigarette-lighter carried by this man, tiny blackobjects no larger than pin-heads--apparentlyparticles of celluloid. Operator 5 realized that theywere negative micro-photographs. He enlargedthem to gigantic proportions and discovered thatthey carried code messages. You already knowthe substance of these messages."They mention the work of 'our men' in armyposts and on navy ships; they speak of 'spreadinginvisible death like wild-fire across the country.' Irecall all this to you, Mr. President, only toemphasize that we must heed this warning ofOperator 5's--or the result will almost certainly befrightful disaster to this country."The President's fingers tapped. He wasabout to speak when a voice issuing from theradio suddenly grew to surprising volume. A voicedrummed out of the loud speaker to dominate theroom."Ladies and gentlemen, our speaker tonightbrings you a message of the highest importance,"the announcer declared. "We take pleasure inpresenting the Honorable Elisha Newby, Speakerof the House of Representatives.""Newby?" the President repeated. "I didn'tknow he was to speak tonight. In fact, it was myimpression--"Another voice came loudly from the radio:"Citizens of the United States! Rarely has apublic official dared to voice a message such as Ibring you tonight. I am determined, regardless ofthe consequences, to speak fearlessly. I warn youto prepare for the conflict that is coming. Prepareyou must, citizens of the United States, or perish!"The President straightened, amazed, in hischair."Weak men try to lead us! Our archaicgovernment fumbles with our most pressingproblems! Progress has become impossible underour present system! We must have a new ordercreated out of this chaos! We must cast aside ourhelpless leaders, tear to shreds this moldydocument called our Constitution. We mustproclaim a new nation--a nation led by a man ofstrength, binding the people in his personalpower. We cry for a national savior--he is comingto command us. It is inevitable!"President ejaculated: "Newby has gone mad!He is preaching destruction! Anarchism!"Then, in the radio background, a secondvoice blurred in the speaker and mounted involume."Ladies and gentlemen of the radio audience,the Inter-Coastal Broadcasting Company is forcedto announce that the speech to which you arelistening is not part of our program. It is notoriginating in any studio of this corporation. Weare at a loss to account for its presence on ourwires, but an investigation will be undertakenimmediately in order to--" The voice broke off foran instant, then commenced again excitedly."Ladies and gentlemen, a distress messagejust picked up from a ship at sea necessitates thatthis station go off the air at once for an indefiniteperiod!"_______________________________________________________________________________________________Operator 5TMINVASION OF THE DARK LEGIONS Oct. 1934______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A production of Vintage New MediaTMwww.vintagelibrary.com4THE blurring voices vanished. High-pitched,faint, a new sound issued from the radio. It was abroken whine, flashing out a code signal that sangits cry far into the reaches of the night.CQD--CQD--CQD--CQD--Operator 5 had come alertly to his feet. ThePresident was peering anxiously into his face.During these seconds, Operator 5 knew,hundreds of inland broadcasting stations wereswitching off the air. From coast to coast the greatcommercial web of aerials was going dead. Theether was being plunged into silence save for thestrident repetition of the call for aid.CQD--CQD--CQD--"There's a message coming through now!"Operator 5 exclaimed. "It's coming raggedly, asthough the operator can hardly manipulate thekey, but--" He paused, listening, turning to peerwith darkening eyes at the face of the Washingtonchief.Z-7 sprang up. "What is it?"Operator 5 strode to the door. As he jerked itopen, footfalls sounded beyond.Captain Kendrick came running, carrying ascrawled message-blank in his hand. Before hereached the sill, Operator 5 asked quickly: "Theship that sent out the distress signal has notidentified itself? It has not given its position?""No, sir! The wireless operator is trying nowto locate it through the naval directional finders,sir.""We must have that informationimmediately!"Captain Kendrick blinked, extended themessage to the President. He hurried out againas the Chief Executive rose, reading the hastyscrawl:CQD--REST OF CREW DEAD--WIPEDOUT BY DEADLY DISEASE--PIRATESABOARD STRIPPING SHIP CQD--CQD--The President looked at Operator 5 andrepeated in almost a whisper: "'Deadly disease! Isit possible that your warning is actually aprophecy? No sooner have you spoken than--"Again quick footfalls came to the door.Captain Kendrick hurried in, bearing anotherscribbled blank. The President took it quickly,passed it at once to Operator 5."From the Icelandic Trader!" he exclaimed."Position approximately forty-two degrees thirtyminutes latitude, seventy degrees, thirty minuteslongitude. That ship is not far from here!""No, sir!" the captain answered. "We'reprobably closer than any other vessel. We canreach it in half an hour."The President commanded, "Put about,captain! Try to reach that ship as soon aspossible!"Operator 5 gestured a protest. "Mr.President, I suggest that this yacht drop anchorand wait. With your permission, I'll use theCanute's speed-boat to reach the IcelandicTrader.""But that ship is in distress!" the ChiefExecutive protested. "That signal cannot beignored. We must--""The signal will not be ignored, sir. Thespeed-boat can reach the freighter more rapidlythan this yacht. The message speaks of deadlydisease sir. I must ask you not to approach it!""You believe that it wound be dangerous forthis yacht to run alongside?" the Presidentqueried."Most emphatically, sir!"The President gestured. "I appreciate yourwarning, but perhaps we are mistaken. The lawsof the sea--""The laws of the seas do not ask you to riskyour life, sir!" Operator 5 insisted. "You will beneeded sorely by the people of this country duringthe coming crisis. I'll go at once! I am sure thismatter bears directly on the subject we werediscussing!"The President reluctantly gestured. "Verywell," he declared. "Captain Kendrick, take yourorders."The bewildered master turned to the dynamicyoung man. "Yes, sir?""Break out the speed-boat, captain! As fastas possible!"Captain Kendrick's voice sang a repetition ofthe orders. Quickly footfalls sounded across thedeck; davit's creaked. Operator 5 strode to the railwith Z-7 and Tim Donovan. As the motor-boatswung over the side, he sprang aboard, and theWashington chief followed him. The boy started toleap after them."Not this time, old-timer!" Operator 5cautioned._______________________________________________________________________________________________Operator 5TMINVASION OF THE DARK LEGIONS Oct. 1934______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A production of Vintage New MediaTMwww.vintagelibrary.com5The boy blurted, "Aw, gee! I--I'm comingalong!" He sprang, tumbled into the motor-boat asit was lowered. Captain Kendrick called down thecourse. Immediately the boat touched the swellsand it cast off. Its motor barked and it darted intothe moonlight leaving a boiling white wake behind.Captain Kendrick marched stiffly to the after-deck and saluted the President. "Further orders,sir?""Stand by!"The purring speed-boat moved into thedistance as it carried Operator 5 toward thedistressed Icelandic Trader.JAMES CHRISTOPHER--whose name wasrecorded in the secret archives of the UnitedStates Intelligence Service as Operator 5--swerved the swift craft toward a black shadowthat loomed out of the moonlit sea."There she is!" he said quietly. "No lights--drifting. Watch the rail, Chief. Tim, look sharp!"Z-7 exclaimed: "There's a ladder hangingover the side." Jimmy Christopher had seen it; hehelmed the boat toward it even as the Washingtonchief spoke."Gee, Jimmy!" the Irish lad who crouched atOperator 5's side exclaimed as he scanned theominous shadow of the hulk. "What happened toit?""The devil only knows, Tim." The boat wasslowing near the dangling rope ladder. "Make fast.We're going up."Tim Donovan hastily lashed the craft.Jimmy Christopher swung upon the ladder,mounted rapidly with the Washington chieffollowing. Tim Donovan joined them as they stoodat the rail looking across a soundless, deserteddeck. No beacons burned on the IcelandicTrader; no lights shone. Her hull rolled slightly inthe swells. There was no engine vibration in thestillness; no smoke poured from her stacks. To allappearances she was a deserted derelict. But inthe still air hovered an uncanny, premonitivesense that death lurked near.Operator 5's darkened eyes searched thesilent deck. Aside from the absence of officersand crew, his first glance found no reason for theCQD call that had come singing through the ether.He gestured; Z-7 and the boy started with himtoward the bridge."Careful," he warned. "There's no way ofknowing--"A quick exclamation burst from TimDonovan. Operator 5 spun to see the boy staringaft, wide-eyed, breathless. He asked quietly,"What was it, Tim?""Gee, Jimmy--it looked like a ghost! Rightthere--all white--but now it's gone!"Operator 5's lips tightened. "A ghost, Tim?"he asked. "Scarcely, old-timer! Scarcely!"His hand slipped to the automatic nestling inhis arm-pit holster, as Z-7 exclaimed, "By George,I caught a glimpse of it, too! Exactly as Tim said--white figure that melted away!""Behind the after-house?" Jimmy Christopherasked. "We'll soon see about that. Circle to theother rail, Chief, Tim, stay where you are."He waited until Z-7 moved quietly across thedeck, then stepped forward briskly, gun leveled,following the rail toward the gloomy shadowsblanketing the stern. He was about to step beyondthe corner of the after-house when he heard asharp exclamation from Z-7. "Good God!"A shot blasted. Operator 5 sprang forward.Through shafting moonlight he saw whitish formsdarting; Astonishment caught at his throat as oneghostly shape, springing past Z-7, whirled with agun. Its report roared into the seawind asOperator 5 leaped aside and glimpsed a weird,inhuman face.The eyes of the phantom figure glittered in ahead that appeared to be entirety hairless, withouta nose, without a mouth, without ears. Its starkwhiteness gave a flashing impression of a nakedbody as it sped out of sight. Jimmy Christophersent a slug crashing after it as a high-pitched crycame from Tim Donovan. "Jimmy! They're goingover the rail!"Operator 5 sped into the shadow from whichthe spectral forms had materialized; he found Z-7sagging breathlessly against the wall of the after-house. He halted and seized Z-7's arm. "Chief!Are you hit?""No. Knocked the wind out of me! God--what are they?"Operator 5 sped along the rail as TimDonovan's small figure shadowed close. Therewas no sign of the fleeting white figures in themoonlight now. Darkness had engulfed them."Over the rail, Jimmy!" The boy exclaimed._______________________________________________________________________________________________Operator 5TMINVASION OF THE DARK LEGIONS Oct. 1934______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A production of Vintage New MediaTMwww.vintagelibrary.com6Operator 5 looked down. White figures wereclawing downward against the black hull of theship--three of them, their glittering owlish eyesturned up. From below a gun spat again. A bulletspanged against the steel, spattered. JimmyChristopher let his automatic buck downward atthem, sprang back. "Keep away!" he warned."They're watching the rail!"A sudden muffled popping and a churning ofwater sounded below. Operator 5 glimpseddownward again, saw the power-boat they hadcome in skirt away from the side of the freighter.Three huge-eyed white figures were huddling in it.The appearance of his silhouetted figurebehind the rail was the signal for a rockingfusillade from the boat. Operator 5 fired twicebefore he sprang to cover. A cry of pain echoedthrough the lashing of the water as the boat spedoff, telling Operator 5 that one of his bullets hadhit a mark. He raised himself again, saw the boatwith its weird figures melting into the gloom.Z-7 ran pawing to Jimmy Christopher's sideTim Donovan pressed close. They stared inamazement as the vague color of the motor-boatvanished in the darkness of a running swell. Thepurring of the motor diminished swiftly."Ghosts?" Operator 5 said quietly. "Not quite,Tim! Ghosts don't use guns." He fingered a bulletscar on a painted stanchion."Gee, Jimmy!" Tim exclaimed, with apuzzled, wondering voice. "I never saw anythinglike that before!"Operator 5 inspected the clip of hisautomatic. "It may be the better part of wisdom,"he said quietly, "to save our bullets.""What the devil!" Z-7 exclaimed. "Were thoseodd creatures men? And if they were, what werethey doing here?""The answer to that, Chief," JimmyChristopher declared crisply, "along with theanswers to several other vexing problems, mustbe on this ship."CHAPTER TWOScourge of the SeaOPERATOR 5 listened to the dying, fainthum of the power-boat as it sped away into thenight--a whisper that might have been the breathof the wind. He approached the bridge warily,found the door of the wireless room standingopen. He stepped inside alertly, snapped a lightswitch. The glare disclosed a man in uniform lyingslumped in a chair drawn up before the sendingkey. Z-7 started forward, but Operator 5's armshot out in warning, holding him back"Wait, Chief!" Jimmy Christopher bent overthe fallen man, whose head rolled limply at histouch. His examination was quick and expert. Herose, touched dials on the sending apparatus,tested the key, then tapped out a short, briskmessage."He's alive, Chief," Operator 5 declared,motioning toward the man in the chair, "but in astate of complete collapse. I've radioed GeneralClayton aboard the Canute to prepare to placehim in quarantine. But we can't take him back untilwe've gone over this ship from stem to stern.""Quarantine?" Z-7 asked."He's dangerously ill, possibly a contagiousdisease. Better stay back. Put on gloves if you'vegot them, and tie handkerchiefs over your mouthand nose. That goes for you, too, Tim."Operator 5 drew on black gloves as he spokeHe carried them with him constantly so that, ifnecessity demanded, he could avoid beingidentified by the strange eagle-shaped scar on theback of his right hand. The three of them knottedhandkerchiefs across their faces.Jimmy Christopher strode rapidly to thecaptain's quarters beneath the bridge. He jerkedthe door open, and snapping a light switch,pausing with Z-7 and Tim Donovan at hisshoulders, peered at the still form of a man lyingon a bed--lying still in death.The dead face of the master of the IcelandicTrader was turned toward them; it showed signsof intense suffering. The lips were blood-flecked;the skin, dry and bluish. As though the man hadbeen stricken without warning, he lay in fulluniform. Operator 5 turned away quietly."Dead several days; Chief," he declared ashe moved toward another cabin. "Whatever hithim came so suddenly he--"Jimmy Christopher broke off as the lights inthe next cabin gleamed when he pressed hisfingers on a switch. Again the three of thempeered upon a scene of death._______________________________________________________________________________________________Operator 5TMINVASION OF THE DARK LEGIONS Oct. 1934______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A production of Vintage New MediaTMwww.vintagelibrary.com7Two men lay on the beds. The body of onewas twisted as if in excruciating agony, the pillowbrown-crusted beneath his head. He wascompletely uniformed; his ornaments declaredhim to be the first mate. The second man, thequartermaster, lay on the floor partly unclothed,as if he had collapsed there while undressing. Inhis case, too, death had struck horribly andsuddenly.Z-7 followed Operator 5 and Tim Donovanback to the quiet, moonlighted deck. He said in anawed tone, "Great Scott! What hit those men?""Some infectious disease, without a doubt,"Operator 5 answered. "Be extremely careful ofwhat you touch. It's possible that only the wirelessoperator has survived the plague that hit thisship."Operator 5 next climbed the companionwayto the bridge. In the wheel-house he foundanother still form lying on the floor--another manin uniform who had apparently dropped lifeless atduty. He turned away, with Z-7 and Tim Donovanfollowing, and went below deck. When theylooked into the crew's quarters, they saw moremute evidence of the terrible blight that hadravaged the ship. Ten men lay sprawled on thebunks and on the floor--ten men who had died inunspeakable agony.Grimly Operator 5 descended still lower intothe ship. He descended iron ladders into theengine-room. Death had struck there as suddenlyand as terribly as above. Stokers, soot-blackenedbodies bare above the waist, lay on the plate floorwhere they had fallen. One still clung to a half-filled shovel he was holding when he had fallen.An oiler had dropped across the greedy coggedwheels of gleaming machinery. Open blacknessdisclosed beds of ashes where the fire hadburned out. There was no pressure in the boilers;they were cold. The Icelandic Trader wasmanned by corpses!OPERATOR 5 left the engine-room, workedforward, snapping lights on as he proceeded,came into the hold. The vast space was almostempty. A few broken crates were scattered about.Z-7 gazed into the emptiness exclaimed,"Stripped! Almost the entire cargo has been takenoff!"Tim Donovan exclaimed quickly, "Jimmy,look! There, behind that case! It's--" he ranforward, peering into the shadow, "it's one ofthe..."Jimmy Christopher's eyes grew dark abovethe tightly drawn handkerchief as he gazed at thefigure lying behind the case. Except for the deadeyes staring upward through tight-fitting goggled,the body was covered with a soft, gauzey materialthat gave off a pungent odor."One of the ghosts," Operator 5 said softly.He kneeled above the weird figure. The garmentwhich the corpse wore fit snugly. A headpiececovered the ears, mouth and nose; the sleeves ofthe strange coveralls were sewn into canvasgloves; the legs were tucked into heavy boots.Carefully turning the body, Operator 5 found aragged rip at the side. Something sharp had tornthe curious garment, sundering even the clothingworn beneath it, leaving a gash in the skin.Operator 5 rose slowly, turned darkening eyesupon Z-7."This man," he declared, "was one of thepirates mentioned in the distress message."Z-7 protested. "How the devil could theyhave seized this ship? Pirates are a thing of thepast! Why didn't the wireless operator send out adistress signal immediately--?""Chief," Jimmy Christopher broke in, "thedays when sea-robbers attacked ships byswarming over the sides with cutlasses aregone--yes. Pirates is scarcely the word to applyto the men who took this ship. Scavengers wouldbe better--scavengers of the sea. These officersand crew were deliberately infected with somesort of plague before the cargo was taken off.They probably didn't even approach this traderuntil they knew every man aboard her was dead.""But how?" Z-7 asked."Perhaps one or two men who could protectthemselves from infection were already aboardthe ship and let the plague loose. It was somedeadly germ that struck swiftly--caused men todie almost instantly. Every man it reached diedaccept the wireless operator. Perhaps he wassaved because he had to remain in his instrumentroom above deck, while all the others movedabout. This ship was turned into a floating grave-yard and the purpose of the attack was robbery ofthe cargo."Tim Donovan was listening intently. Z-7peered at the fleece covered form on the steelfloor. "That man--"_______________________________________________________________________________________________Operator 5TMINVASION OF THE DARK LEGIONS Oct. 1934______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A production of Vintage New MediaTMwww.vintagelibrary.com8"He was one of the scavengers who boardedthis ship when it was almost certain that everyman aboard her was dead. The coveralls aremeant to prevent infection. Maybe it wasmoistened with some antiseptic solution. He diedbecause he accidentally ripped his protective suitwhile moving the cargo off the ship. Another boatmust be carrying that cargo now.""I'll order an immediate check-up!" Z-7exclaimed. "I'll get copies of the freight bills forevery ounce of cargo aboard this ship. All boatsmaking port will have their freight checked. GreatScott! This trader must have been carryingsomething extremely unusual and valuable to--"Tim Donovan exclaimed, "Jimmy! Listen!"Operator 5 had already turned, eyesnarrowed; he heard the same soft, lapping noisethat the little Irish lad had detected in the quiet--the breaking of water mingled with the purr of ascrew."Sounds like another boat close to this one;Jimmy!" the boy whispered excitedly.Operator 5 gestured quickly. "Up, Chief!Follow him, Tim! I'll be right after you!"AS Z-7 and Tim Donovan climbed from thehold, Jimmy Christopher turned to the whitefleeced form. It lay beside a packing case whichthe label showed had been dispatched originallyfrom England. It was marked as automobile parts.Operator 5 stooped over the woolly figure, openedthe blade of his knife, and ripped the fabric.He bared a face--a square, hard face toppedby bristling blonde hair. It was unknown to himand yet--A cry sounded: "Jimmy!" Operator 5clambered up the ladder, climbed acompanionway that took him to the deck. At therail, two dark figures were moving--theWashington chief and Tim Donovan."Too late!" Z-7 blurted as Jimmy Christopherran to his side. "It's gone!""But it was right there a second ago, Jimmy!"Tim Donovan declared. "It looked like a smallboat. It just melted away. Maybe--"From Z-7 a sudden exclamation came,"Look at that! It's a--"Jimmy Christopher cried.On the silvery blackness of the water atrailing streak of white had appeared. Fromsomewhere in the black swells it was streakingtoward the side of the Icelandic Trader. Abubbling, sparkling threat, it came streaking with adeadly promise."Get back!" Jimmy Christopher orderedswiftly. "To the other rail--quick!"He whirled Tim Donovan away frantically asZ-7 ran. The churning whiteness on the water,Operator 5 knew, must be trailing the projectilethat skimmed swiftly and invisibly beneath thesurface. And already that livid stream was close.He spun; he was sprinting after the WashingtonChief and the boy, when it came.Explosion!Wrenching, jarring power struck the side ofthe Icelandic Trader. A terrific burst of watergeysered high at the side of the ship, gleamingwith the fire-glare that flashed in the sea. Itdisappeared instantly. Thick fumes belched intothe air as the stricken hulk groaned with thepowerful concussion. The torpedo had strucksquarely amidship!The first, twisting wrench of the freighterflung Tim Donovan to the deck and hurled Z-7stumbling against the rail. Operator 5 clung to abrace as a spray flinging wave flooded over thedeck, bringing with it a choking gust of vapor. Asthe chill water sloshed away and the wind tore atthe fumes, a steady roar vibrated from below.Operator 5 crossed to the starboard rail,watched white churning water pour into the ship'sbelly through raggedly-burst seams. Even as heturned back, flooded bulkheads heaved the shipto an alarming angle. The snarl of the inrushingwater echoed from open hatches and companion-ways. Each second brought a sharper list to thedeck."Lower one of the life boats, Chief!" JimmyChristopher shouted. "Another torpedo may comeat any moment!"As Z-7 legged up to the boat deck with Timfollowing, drenched and breathless, JimmyChristopher stepped into the wireless room again.He touched switches, checked the dial settings,and pounded the sending key.S.Y. CANUTE--ICELANDIC TRADERSINKING--MOTOR-BOAT STOLEN--RADIO ALL SHIPS NEAR TO WATCH ANDARREST OCCUPANTS IF SIGHTED--IMPERATIVE!_______________________________________________________________________________________________Operator 5TMINVASION OF THE DARK LEGIONS Oct. 1934______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A production of Vintage New MediaTMwww.vintagelibrary.com9He whirled from the key, snatched thestricken radio-operator up in his arms. While thesea thundered into the listing hulk, he carried thelimp form to the boat deck. Z-7 and Tim Donovanwere twisting the davits of the life boat, which waslifting, swinging over the rail. Operator 5 loweredthe unconscious radio operator into it. "In! Quick!"The boat strained toward the churning sea asa sudden, wrenching lurch tossed the freightersideward like a chip. Death was in the air....Jimmy Christopher gripped the ropes,groaned with effort as he tugged the life boatback. Tim Donovan scrambled in; Z-7 followed.Operator 5 cleared yawning space with a leap.They unfastened the ropes frenziedly and loweredaway. The black hull of the Icelandic Tradercreaked and trembled as they rolled to a heavyswell and cast free.Operator 5 gripped a pair of oars, bent tothem while Z-7 plied a second pair in unison. TimDonovan, turning from the lightless shadow of thefreighter, thrust a pointing finger excitedly towardthe outer bay."Jimmy! Another one!"Straining to the oars, Operator 5 glimpsedthe white, boiling line cutting through the swellingblackness of the water. A weapon of almostinvisible doom, it lunged swiftly toward thegroaning freighter. Second by second, sweepingclose as Operator 5 and Z-7 bent to the oars, itraced until destruction again struck the freighter!Crimson flame spewed from black waves,hashing high into the sky. The scream of bucklingplates sounded like a cry of mortal agony. Heavyfumes drifted across the inclined deck that spilledboiling torrents into the sea. Operator 5 and Z-7bent over their oars, struggled manfully, sweatpouring from their faces as they stroked away.The Icelandic Trader became an obscureshadow against the horizon that dipped andmelted into the swells. Its stern reared high,glistening in the eerie moonlight. Then the plungebegan--a swift dive that carried from sight foreverthe wrecked remains of a ship laden with blighteddead....AN HOUR later the air vibrated with a signalthat banished the etheric silence and restoredcommercial broadcasting activities to normal. Far-flung antennae sprang into life. Into the wirelessroom of the S. Y. Canute a message in codedrummed.It was placed in the hands of Operator 5while he waited, in the President's suite, for thereport of General Clayton, the White Housephysician, on the condition of the radio operator ofthe Icelandic Trader. In a few moments Operator5 deciphered the message. He passed it to Z-7silently.PR--RELAY--REPORT RECEIVEDFROM A-9 ABOARD S.S. ULTIMA--APPARENTLY FEARING DISGUISEPENETRATED AND ARREST CERTAIN ONLANDING YANAR LERDOFF COMMITTEDSUICIDE ABOUT TEN P. M. TONIGHT BYLEAPING OVER-BOARD--ULTIMASTOPPED--ATTEMPTS TO RESCUELERDOFF OR FIND BODY FAILED--SHIPPROCEEDING--WDC-13."Lerdoff a suicide!" Z-7 exclaimed. "I say,thank God for that!"Operator 5's eyes were shining dark."Perhaps, Chief. But a man as cunning asLerdoff--a man as valuable as he is to theShreckites would hardly die so easily."The President looked at Operator 5anxiously. "Are you quite sure? Are you quiteconvinced that the Shreckites are preparing tostrike at us? Is there no doubt in your mind that--""None, Mr. President!" Jimmy Christopherdeclared vehemently. "I am positive!""But--""We know, Mr. President, that for more thana decade the United States has been the target ofa vast international intrigue. While the worldimagined itself at peace, the plans of our enemieshave developed. Until now, the battles have beenfought on our ledgers--economically, in thebalance of trade, in the manipulation of currency.Now other weapons are being used against us."We now face propaganda! Espionage! Andworse--invisible, deadly implements of modernwar! The world conflict that devastated the worldeighteen years ago, Mr. President, has notstopped! The great war is still being fought. Ourenemies are striving to overthrow us this verymoment--and their weapons have shown!"We must heed the warning, sir," Operator 5concluded gravely, "or we face destruction."_______________________________________________________________________________________________Operator 5TMINVASION OF THE DARK LEGIONS Oct. 1934______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A production of Vintage New MediaTMwww.vintagelibrary.com10He strode toward the quiet, moonlight deck.The President's last glimpse was of his fingersstraying unconsciously to his watch-chain--to thelittle, golden symbol of death.CHAPTER THREEThe Secret EnemyNEAR the gleaming marquise of one ofBoston's biggest hotels a newsboy was yelling."Paper! Britain Discovers Preparations for Waron Continent! Treaties Violated! Paper!"The newsboy sang his wares lustily as menand women crowded in and out of the busy hotelentrance. His face was tough, freckled and Irish;beneath the bill of his low pulled cap, his alerteyes studied each passing face.He turned abruptly to a stocky man whostrode toward a waiting taxi. "Paper, mister?" Heleaped on the running board. "Paper?" The stockyman waved him away. "Paper?" he persisted,thrusting it at the passenger until the cab swervedinto the street.He returned to his position near themarquise, sing-songing, "Latest news! Latestnews!" Then as a taller figure appeared in thedoorway, his eyes lighted.The young man who came toward him wasclad in full evening dress. His silk hat shonejauntily. He proffered a coin, bought a copy of theTranscript. "Where'd he go, Tim?" he questionedin a low voice."I heard him give the address to the driver,Jimmy!" the Irish lad whispered. He repeatedwhat he had overheard. "Gee, Jimmy--becareful.""Okay, Tim See you later."Operator 5 stepped promptly into a car. Theaddress he gave to the driver was near that whichTim had whispered to him. The cab whirled off inthe direction of Boston Common.Jimmy Christopher was acting on informationreceived aboard the S. Y. Canute the previousnight. The yacht had brought him and Z-7 intoBoston harbor; the Washington chief hadarranged to fly immediately to the Capital, whileOperator 5 and Tim Donovan had remained. Themessage which had prompted the move wasterse and significant:PR--RELAY--OPERATOR N-2 ADVISESTHAT LEADER ORGANIZATION SONS OFEURLAND IN BOSTON IS GERGOR BERBLOG.FURTHER INFORMATION CONCERNINGBERBLOG, AGENT OF SHRECKITES,AVAILABLE THROUGH HEADQUARTERS B-P--W-13The further information from SecretHeadquarters B-P had disclosed to Operator 5that Gregor Berblog was registered as EdwinBowker in the hotel which he had just left."Agent of the Shreckites!" Jimmy Christopherrealized perhaps more fully than any other man ingovernmental circles the full significance of thosewords. The menace emphasized the fact thatShreckism had invaded America--that the powerof a dread European dictator was reaching acrossthe Atlantic into the United States, raisingdefiance to the basic principles upon which thisnation was founded.The eyes of the world were turned fearfullyupon Eurland--upon the man who commanded itsmarshaling militaristic forces. Chancellor EreckShreck reigned supreme over Eurland--supremethrough the power of terror. He and hisLieutenants had engineered the downfall of theEurlandic Republic, created following the close ofthe World War. The purple-shirted army of theShreckites had risen as the greatest singlemenace to international peace. Now the shadowof Shreck's mailed fist was falling dark upon theUnited States--poising to strike.OPERATOR 5, as the taxi whisked himthrough narrow streets, gleaned hints of the far-flung menace from items in the newspaper. Terrorat the newly revealed power of Eurland underShreck was spreading throughout Great Britain.All France was fearful of sudden attack withoutwarning. The rumble of the new World War couldalready be sensed--a war to be swifter, moreterrible, more destructive than any other inhistory.Operator 5 read with mounting interest aprominent item on the front page of thenewspaper:_______________________________________________________________________________________________Operator 5TMINVASION OF THE DARK LEGIONS Oct. 1934______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A production of Vintage New MediaTMwww.vintagelibrary.com11NEWBY DENIES RADIO SPEECH:SOURCE PUZZLES AIR NETWORKEXPERTSElisha Newby, Speaker of the House ofRepresentatives, this morning denied allknowledge of the propagandist speechwhich went out on nation-wide radionetwork last night just before an SOSsignal shut down all broadcasting stations.Newby declared that he had not madethe speech. "I was nowhere near amicrophone last night," he declared. "I wasin conference with the House ImmigrationCommittee at the time."Officials of the Inter-CoastalBroadcasting Company declaredthemselves completely baffled by theincident. In some manner which they cannotexplain, their wires carried the speech froman unknown source over the main linefeeding a coast to coast hook-up.Since both Newby and the broadcastingcompany deny all responsibility for theinflammatory utterances, the government isbeginning an investigation of the episode.It is believed that an unknown group hasdevised a secret means of tapping the vitaltranscontinental wires in order to utilize theradio networks as a means of disseminatingun-American propaganda.Jimmy Christopher's eyes were dark andthoughtful as the cab creaked to a stop. Healighted, paid the driver, glanced up and down thedark, unsavory street as the cab withdrew. Hestrode briskly, glancing at numbers along the way,and paused when he found none corresponding tothat which Tim Donovan had relayed to him.He crossed the street, and as head-lampsswung around the far corner, he stepped into thedarkness of a convenient doorway. He watched ataxicab swing to a point almost opposite and stop.Operator 5 watched the man who alighted from italertly.The taxi disappeared around the corner, andthat man stepped to the entrance of a dark,shabby motion-picture theater. Across the doors,signs were nailed: Closed for Remodeling.Hinges creaked and the man disappeared.Operator 5 waited a tense moment. Hecrossed the street, found the theatre bill boardplastered with tattered lithographs. He moved to adoor. It resisted the thrust of his hand. He foundanother, also locked. A cautious glance about,and he drew from his pocket a leather packet ofmaster keys.The slender implements, fashioned ofsurgical steel, represented long nights of labor inOperator 5's work-shop. He had designed them toopen all known types of locks. The third keyopened the way. The door swung inward and hestepped through into musty darkness.He stopped short as a movement soundednear him. A footfall thudded. A voice speakinggutturally in a foreign language asked from thegloom, "Who comes?"Operator 5's answer was quick. His handsnapped behind the head of the dark shadowedman who had spoken. Hot breath burst in his faceas fists slammed at him. A muffled cry soundedas a tendon snapped. Operator 5's hands dartedto the neck of the man he could not see. Histhumbs pressed hard on nerve-centers feeding adelicate gland.There was an agonizing groan; JimmyChristopher lowered a limp form to the floor. Anexpert jiu-jutsu touch had rendered his assailantunconscious. He dusted his hands and listened.ODOROUS gloom filled the deserted theater.Dusty seats stood row after row, facing a dirtysilver screen. The dank space was empty andsilent save for a far away whispering of voices.Operator 5 strode quietly to the side of thefoyer. As he mounted worn stairs that led to thebalcony, the sibilant sounds grew louder. Heclimbed the steps of an aisle leading toward theprojection booth and paused.Beyond the metal fire-proof door, low voiceswhere speaking guttural syllables--speaking inthe language of Eurland!"In the Division off the East lie the nerve--centers of this country. Our plan is complete. Weare waiting only for the signal. When we strike, wewill paralyze the nation.""Because we will be prepared then to actalso in the Central Division and the Division of theWest!" the second voice exclaimed."Yes! The membership of the Sons ofEurland already exceeds in numbers the_______________________________________________________________________________________________Operator 5TMINVASION OF THE DARK LEGIONS Oct. 1934______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A production of Vintage New MediaTMwww.vintagelibrary.com12combined forces of the police units in the UnitedStates. Resistance will be impossible! As for theArmy--what a surprise it will be when the ShockTroops march against it!"There was a laugh. "No one outside ourorganization dreams of our power! No one but usrealizes that we have already assembled an armyof occupation trained to the last degree! When thesignal is given, our first blow will bring victory!"Operator 5 stood motionless outside themetal door. He drew a black-velvet mask from hispocket, tied it across his eyes. He pulled on blackgloves. His hand slipped to his arm-pit holster andhis weapon leveled.The first voice said tensely, "But YanarLerdoff, we have not yet heard--""Have no fear, comrade! Yanar Lerdoff is theright-hand man of Ereck Shreck himself. He willcommand us when the moment comes!""Where is he now? We have been advisedby wireless that he left Eurland by boat, but sincethen we have not heard. It is not easy to waitwhen we are all prepared to strike!"Operator 5's hand gripped the knob of themetal door. Abruptly, inside the projection booth,a bell shrilled. He jerked his hand back, and theclatter stopped. Scarcely breathing, he listenedinto silence beyond the door until a whisper came,"It is not possible!""Someone got past Wersh? Someone is inhere now? No!""We shall see!"Jimmy Christopher's lips pinched tightly.Unwittingly, he realized, he had released an alarmthat had betrayed his presence. His hand on theknob had, by electrical induction perhaps, trippeda relay. He waited with every sense alert....An eye flashed behind a peep-hole in themetal door and instantly disappeared. A sharpclick sounded above.Jimmy Christopher stepped back swiftly, felta heavy weight crush against his shoulders. Theimpact bent him, made him stumble forward. Hetwisted while a thousand hands seemed to claw athim. He wrenched, peered upward, saw that fromthe opening of a dropped trapdoor in the ceiling aviscid black stuff was now pouring heavily over hisshoulders.The weight of the voracious materialstaggered Jimmy Christopher as he strove to draghimself out of it. The effort seemed to pull aheavier mass out of the opening above him--agreat, hovering clot threatening each instant tocloy him down with its crushing weight. A mass ofit dropped on his arm, adhering to his hand andautomatic.Operator 5 jerked out of his coat, sprangacross rows of seats to the aisle. He whirled tosee the inky mass falling, a slow cascade, overthe spot where he had stood.IT was thick liquid tar that now flowed uponthe floor, swallowing Operator 5's coat, spreadingoctopus-like tentacles. Except for JimmyChristopher's wary glance overhead, it might haveenveloped his entire body in its sticky embrace,weighing him down, choking him in its maw. Oncein it, escape would have been impossible.Operator 5's hand was black with the gluey,gummy stuff that covered his gun and rendered ituseless. He jerked the weapon free from his handas he heard the latch of the projection-room click.He vaulted across two rows of seats to a positiondirectly in front of the booth as the door swungopen. A shadow shafted outward and a gutturalvoice sounded."You see! There! Part of his coat! He isimprisoned in it. It is his death!"Operator 5's hand dropped to the buckle ofhis belt as he stopped forward, past the corner,into the open space beside the lighted door."Not quite," he said, with ironic amusement inhis voice.The two men whirled in consternation. Theirmoves toward their guns were lightning quick. Ahuge foreign-made automatic gleamed darkly inthe light as Operator 5 clicked open the clasp ofhis belt. He whipped it out a leather sheath whichflew from a bright, supple blade. Its razor-edgehissed to the wrist of the hand gripping the gun.A shot blasted, blending with a gasp of painas the needle-point of the rapier pierced. Thesteel sang upward, flickering in lightning about thehead and shoulders of the man who had fired. Hestepped back screaming, dropping the gun fromhis powerless hand. His heels caught in the stickyblack stuff as he retreated, and he sprawled intoit.Operator 5 sprang forward as the secondman flipped a gun out. Again the flashing point ofthe rapier sang around the hand that gripped theweapon. Blood spurted from a slashed wrist. Thesupple blade whipped a magical grip on the gun,_______________________________________________________________________________________________Operator 5TMINVASION OF THE DARK LEGIONS Oct. 1934______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A production of Vintage New MediaTMwww.vintagelibrary.com13tore it out of numbed fingers. Operator 5 steppedswiftly, the thin blade glittering, poised above hisadversary's heart."Back up!" he commanded coolly,metallically.His swift glance showed him the other manstruggling vainly in the sticky mass on the floor.As he stepped forward the other man retreated.Operator 5 forced him into the projection-booth,past desk littered with communications anddocuments. He brought the thick-trunked, stubble-headed man to a pause against the metal wall."Don't move!" There was something in histone which made the other man cringe. His handswung out to lift a telephone from the desk. Hespoke a number so softly that the man shoulderedto the wall could not hear. A voice answered andhe whispered over the wire, "Operator 5reporting.""Headquarters B-P. Yes?""Take note of this address," JimmyChristopher commanded crisply. "Send a few ofyour best men at once. I have taken a prisoner--Gregor Berblog."CHAPTER FOURThe Signs of DoomONLY a few select operators of the UnitedStates Intelligence Service knew the location ofSecret Headquarters 13. Life-long residents ofWashington who knew every cranny of the cityintimately might never suspect its presence. Itwas reached by devious means, constantly andclosely guarded--a suite without windows.On the desk of the inner room which servedas the office of Z-7--a room filled with filing-cabinets containing vital information of the utmostsignificance--a clock indicated the hour of fourA.M.Operator 5 stood facing the man known asGregor Berblog. A fast plane had carried them tothe Capital; a waiting car had whisked them toHeadquarters 13 while Berblog remainedblindfolded. Z-7 had opened the way for them onlya few minutes previously. Now he watched theflorid, stolid face of Berblog and noted the sullendefiance in the man's milky-blue eyes."You," Jimmy Christopher accused, "are oneof the chief leaders of the secret organizationknown as the Sons of Eurland."Berblog answered in a thick accent, "I knownothing of what you say.""Nevertheless, you are exactly that. Onorders direct from Chancellor Shreck, you helpedorganize the Sons of Eurland. You haveestablished units in most of the principle cities ofthe United States. You have recruited allEurlanders in America into an organization swornto race prejudice and the overthrow of the UnitedStates government.""'I know nothing!""You have built the Sons of Eurland into amilitaristic machine. You have drilled the men likesoldiers They are put through the paces inuniforms, bearing rifles. In every principal city ofthe United States, your units are training underorders issued by Chancellor Shreck. That is true,Berblog! Do you deny it?""I deny it!""Very well--but the fact remains," Operator 5declared grimly. "We have been gatheringinformation for some time on the activities of yourorganization. We know that it is part of a fargreater militaristic plan for seizing control of thisgovernment. The consequences of your action,Berblog, will be far from pleasant--unless youspeak."The Eurlander's heavy jaw clenched. "I willnot speak," he grated.Operator 5 smiled slowly. "I admire yourloyalty, Berblog, but I assure you, your position ishopeless. You are a prisoner of the United Statesgovernment--incommunicado."He strode into the adjoining room. Settling ata desk, he inspected the documents he hadbrought with him from the hideaway in theabandoned Boston theatre. Each was in code. Heworked a swiftly with pencil and pad until the dooropened and Z-7 entered."Berblog is being taken away," Z-7 said. "Youasked for reports. Here they are, Operator 5."Jimmy Christopher picked them up. The firstwas signed with the name of General Clayton,physician to the White House:_______________________________________________________________________________________________Operator 5TMINVASION OF THE DARK LEGIONS Oct. 1934______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A production of Vintage New MediaTMwww.vintagelibrary.com14The wireless operator of the IcelandicTrader is suffering from external anthrax. Thedisease is one contracted usually by thoseworking among animals--cattle or sheep--orwith the hides of these animals. It is carriedby bacillus anthracis in the air. The externalis the less malignant of the two forms. Whenthe disease is internal or generalized, itbrings about sever prostration, inflammationof the lungs and pleura. Death from collapsefollows infection from within a few hours tothree or four days. When the disease isgeneralized no know treatment is of anyavail."Anthrax!" Operator 5 exclaimed. "One of themost deadly diseases known! Perhaps youremember, Chief, there were serious epidemics ofit during the war. There is no possible doubt thatthe men aboard the Icelandic Trader weremurdered by being deliberately exposed to thebacillus anthracis."Z-7's EYES smoldered. "You're right! Butwhat could the Icelandic Trader have beencarrying to justify such an attack?""Perhaps nothing out of the ordinary," JimmyChristopher answered "Machinery, foodstuffs,building materials--ordinary freight--but stuffhighly valuable to the scavengers, Chief, if therewere no other way of obtaining them.""For what?" Z-7 breathed."Chief," Operator 5 set forwards "we mustnot make the mistake of under-estimating thepower of the Shreckites. That would be fatal. Wemust realize that a gigantic plan--a projectstaggering in its proportions--is under way at thisvery moment."The situation in Europe, in which Eurlandand the Shreckites are the vital factor, shouldleave no doubt of that. Since Eurland's withdrawalfrom the League of Nations, it has been armingitself for war. You know the facts, Chief. TodayEurland is stronger than ever before in history.""Yes, I know that!" Z-7 agreed."All Europe is waiting for the fires of war tobreak out, Chief. France's preparations speak forthemselves. The French government is spendingmore than $100,000,000 for the construction of astring of underground forts throughout the Saar."The day is soon coming when those fortswill be brought into use, if the militaristic programof Chancellor Shreck continues.""But this country is far removed--", Z-7objected."The United States, Chief, ended its isolationfrom Europe when it entered the World War. Wecannot possibly hold ourselves aloof from thissituation. On every hand, influences drag us in.We must face the facts--we lead the world, andany nation which aspires to that leadership mustconquer us to achieve it."Z-7 sat silent, his black eyes smoldering,listening intently."Months ago," Operator 5 continued, "wesucceeded in capturing the espionage agent PeterTanover, the organizer of the Purple Shirtespionage in this country. He, as Shreck's secretemissary, failed to accomplish his purpose.""Thanks to you--yes!""And now, Chief, because their first attemptfailed, because their initial operations wereexposed, the Shreckites have undertaken a fargreater plan. I tell you, Chief, Berblog was notspeaking idly when I overheard him talk of anarmy of occupation already present in thiscountry, awaiting the signal for invasion!""But where could such an army possibly bekept under cover.""That," Operator 5 declared grimly, "I hope tolearn from these coded messages of Berblog'swhen I have deciphered them. Think, Chief!Supplies, machinery, foodstuffs stolen from afreighter! An army of occupation in hiding!Supplies to feed and equip them! It all ties up!"Z-7's eyes glowed. "Operator 5, you suspecta great deal more than you dare put into words!"JIMMY CHRISTOPHER paused, lipspressed hard. "I hesitate to voice suspicions thatmay prove unfounded, yet I feel sure-- Thinkback! Many reports we have received point to it.First of all, remember that we have been informedof wide-spread sabotage--acts of destructionwhich may be only the forerunner of a greaterdestruction to come."_______________________________________________________________________________________________Operator 5TMINVASION OF THE DARK LEGIONS Oct. 1934______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A production of Vintage New MediaTMwww.vintagelibrary.com15"Such sabotage," Z-7 declared, "if turnedagainst our defense, would cripple us, render ushelpless in case of an attack!""Exactly, Chief! And remember that any newattack will be far different from any known in thelast war. Science has advanced. We must look forthe enemy to strike at us with terrible power andswiftness--a power that will wipe out whole citieswith high explosive and incendiary and bacterialbombs."What may we not expect, Chief? Under-cover work a spreading invisible death such asstruck at the Icelandic Trader? It is possible thatthe epidemic of amebic dysentery which broke outat the World's Fair last summer--an illnesscarried by visitors to distant cities, which killed anumber of noted persons--it is possible it mightconceivably be the work of hidden enemies.""You believe that even then--""Even then?" Operator 5's lips tightened."Earlier than that, Chief, attacks have beendirected against us. The World War was scarcelyended when operations began again. Need Iremind you, for instance, of the strangecircumstances surrounding the death of PresidentWilson?"Z-7's face paled. He jerked a sheet from asheaf of papers, flattened it before Operator 5."Read that! Is it possible?" The horror of thethought struck him silent. Operator 5 read throughnarrowed lids:. . . WDC-13 . . . REPORT FROM C-14PITTSBURGH . . . EPIDEMIC OF BOTULISMOR ALLANTIASIS BREAKING OUT AMONGTHE EMPLOYEES OF BASIC STEEL MILLSHERE . . . HUNDREDS OF STEEL WORKERSHAVE COLLAPSED . . . SOURCE APPARENTLYCANNED FOODSTUFFS SERVED INCOMPANY CAFETERIAS . . . SOME TRACEDTO LARGE LOCAL PLANT BUTMANUFACTURER PROVES BY CHEMICALANALYSIS CONTENTS DID NOT ORIGINATEIN PLANT THOUGH CANS BORE COMPANYLABELS . . . CONTENTS EVIDENTLY OFEUROPEAN ORIGIN . . . HEALTHAUTHORITIES GREATLY CONCERNED SINCECASE FATALITY OF BOTULISM IS SIXTY PERCENT . . . ONCE STARTED NO SPECIFICANTI-TOXIN OF ANY AVAIL . . . PEOPLEWARNED TO REJECT SUSPICIOUSFOODSTUFFS AND EAT NOTHING WITHOUTHEATING THOROUGHLY . . . HEADQUARTERS HERE ATTEMPTING TO TRACEORIGIN . . . C 14 . . .Operator 5 peered grimly at the Washingtonchief. "Stuff shipped from Europe and re-labeled!Chief, it's the beginning of an invisible war--warfought with deadly germs!"Z-7 straightened "For God's sake, let's dosomething! We must lose no time! We mustprepare to fight--"A knock sounded; the door opened. A shirt-sleeved man strode into the room. At his back ateletype machine clattered noisily. He handed toZ-7 a yellow sheet, declared, "Here is anothermessage we've just picked up from the wild-catradio station we're trying to locate. I've de-codedit. There's still no hint of where that station canbe, Chief."Z-7's eyes widened at the message. Hepassed it to Operator 5. Jimmy Christopher'svoice rang. "That station has not yet been found?Who is the man detailed to hunt for it, Chief?""B-20. He's doing everything possible. Weknow that there's a powerful sending antennalocated somewhere in northern Vermont. Themessages have been transmitted so swiftly thatwe have to use a high-speed interceptor, and ourdirectional finders are almost useless. B-20 isdoing his damnedest to locate it, but so far--noresults!""We know now, Chief," Operator 5 saidquietly, "that the hidden station is in the hands ofthe Shreckites. They have built it secretly; theyare operating it to send messages to their forcesin this country. This--", he gestured to themessage, "means new danger!"He peered again at the terse, alarmingwords:COMRADES REJOICE! YANAR LERDOFFHAS COME! HE IS HERE TO COMMAND YOU!AWAIT HIS WORD TO STRIKE!CHAPTER FIVEThe Invisible TrailOVER a remote road in the far northwestcorner of Vermont, two automobiles rolled slowly._______________________________________________________________________________________________Operator 5TMINVASION OF THE DARK LEGIONS Oct. 1934______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A production of Vintage New MediaTMwww.vintagelibrary.com16A quarter of a mile separated them. In the rearcar, four alert Intelligence operators watched thesedan that led the way. For hours they had beenfollowing it over pitted dirt roads that twinedthrough lonely hills--following an invisible trail.Behind the driver of the sedan, two menmanipulated sensitive radio instruments. The manwho pressed ear phones to his ears and carefully,continually, adjusted the dials of a compactreceiver, was known in the service as B-20. Theother, F-15, was turning a loop aerial on its axis.Their special function was the locating of wildcatradio station--stations which broadcast without alicense--and their game this time was big.Every day for weeks they had searched longhours for the secret station which sputtered high-speed messages into the ether from some point inthis lonely country. Several times, mapping anglesof the received signals through their direction-finder, they had concluded that the hiddentransmitter was located in this region, not far fromthe Canadian border. Nevertheless, they hadfound absolutely no sign of an antenna.They were positive that the hidden stationwas operating almost hourly, day and night. It wascertain that messages were being sent inEurlandic code. The deciphered dispatches left nopossible doubt that secret orders were beingissued by this mysterious transmitter to Shreckiteorganizations scattered throughout the country.But--where was the source of these highlydangerous signals?The hunt hat begun to seem hopeless. Along day had passed while the two cars hadcrawled up and down remote hills. The secretstation had remained silent for a long stretch. B-20's ears ached with the constant pressure at theearphones and F-15 kept turning the loop antennawith monotonous regularity. Silence in the air--nosound of the secret transmitter.Then a whine vibrated in B-20's ears and hisnerves snapped to high tension. "String it!" heordered F-15. "There!" as the loop twirled. "No--back! That's it! Now it's gone!"The car had stopped. The second-shortwhine had transmitted a message to some secretlistening-post at high speed. Silence reignedagain. F-15 quickly charted the direction of theloop on a map."Same place!" he declared. "What the hell?The lines cross at a point we've already looked at.Something's screwy!"B-20 straightened. "The chart can't be wrong.The station must be there. We're going to lookagain."He resumed listening as F-15 directed theoperator at the wheel and signaled the second carto follow. At a brisk speed they jounced over therough road, turning northward. Again B-20 tensedas a singing signal sounded; again F-15 twistedthe loop. Their new finding puzzled, yetreassured, them. All directional lines converged atthe same point--a spot near the Canadian Borderand the Missisqua Bay of Lake Champlain."Hold it!" B-20 ordered the driverimperatively. "We've been there twice before andboth times we took the some route.""There's no other way--no other road," F-15protested. "Anyway, flying an airplane over thatplace didn't tell us a thing. What else can we do.""Leave the road!" B-20 assorted. "Headacross country straight for that spot."The sedan crawled across a shoulder ofpacked rock, ran up the rough slope of a hill; thesecond car followed. It was heavy going; theautomobiles jounced violently as they crawled.Circling, they began to head into a broad, flatthickly-treed valley. As they swung toward a clearlane through the wooded bed, the driver of thefirst car jerked up to stare."Look at that! A road!" he cried.B-20 gazed in amazement at the smooth,cleared stretch that led off through the wood. Itended abruptly at the hill which the cars were justpassing--wide, well-built, flat. It curved andvanished beyond. Above it stretched a band ofcanvas, supported by taut cables between polesthat stood in a row at each side, colored green; itwas a camouflage protection to guard thehighway against detection from the sky!"That's strange as the devil," F-15 declared."That road isn't on our map. It can't be a statehighway. But--it runs in the direction of thesignals."B-20 commanded, "Follow it."The sedan swerved onto the smooth dirt laneand picked up speed while the second autospurted behind it. For more than a mile the twocars sped over a road in better condition than thestate highways they had patrolled. Deep into thevalley it led, still curving toward the north, everyfoot of it camouflaged!_______________________________________________________________________________________________Operator 5TMINVASION OF THE DARK LEGIONS Oct. 1934______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A production of Vintage New MediaTMwww.vintagelibrary.com17"Take my word for it," B-20 exclaimed. "Thisroad leads to--"It led to death.The blast roared without warning to shockthe car with terrific violence. A thunderousexplosion rolled into the quiet of the valley like thesudden breaking of a stone. Unleasheddestruction struck the vehicle, hurling it off theroad, flinging it aside. It crashed down a polesupporting the suddenly ripped canvas and spilledwith a wrenching impact that snapped off thewheels and left it a smoking mass of ruins.The men in the second car saw the flaming,spewing explosion tear a crater in the bed of themysterious road, hurl the sedan aside. Shriekingbrakes locked gritting wheels. Four men,snapping guns into their hands, crowded forwardand pressed out the doors. Choking fumes gustedover them as they stood dazed and appalled.The wrecked sedan lay flaming. Through itsburst doors they saw the still bodies of itsoccupants. Two of them started forward on a runas a third shouted, "Stay back! You can't get 'emout!""Dynamite!" the fourth yelled. "The road'smined! For God's--"A second blasting roar! Between the wreckand the second car the road spewed skyward,torn by lashing flame. Tons of earth splashed todarken the sun and spilled downward over the twomen who had run forward. One was pitched intothe air like a dummy; he fell limp and motionlessbeside the road. The second, whirling to run,sprawled to a crushed death under tumblingrocks. The wind whipped fumes out of a secondyawning crater....The two men who stood close to the secondcar were thrown flat by the surging air currents ofthe explosion. They pulled themselves updazedly, amid raining dirt and pelting stones.Choking as the echoes of the explosion rolled intothe distance, one of them scrambled to the wheelof their dirt-laden car.Its windshield and door-glass were whitenedby countless cracks caused by flying stones. Theengine snarled as the second man piled in. Thecar backed swiftly, swerved to speed in thedirection from which it had come."Stay off that road!" the second screeched."It's mined all along the way! . . . What's that?"The car darted between trees as he thrust atrembling hand to point. In a clearing beyond, adark line was visible--a glistening cable. Risingthrough the foliage of trees, reaching from theground high into the zenith. He peered up, saw itmelting into the brightness of the sky. Far above,a mere dot floated--a black, glistening ballhovering in the heavens."Good Lord--it's an observation balloon!Somebody up there spotted us coming! Keepaway from that road, I tell you! Stay out of sight ofthat balloon if--"He broke off as a pulsing snarl soundedthrough the air, rapidly growing louder.THE two men in the fleeing car twisted backas the din pounded deafeningly in their ears.Through the foliage they glimpsed sweepingwings. From the northward a plane was howling inlow flight across the valley. As the car dartedacross a clearing they saw the nose of the planedip toward them, saw the helmeted head of thepilot hunched behind the sight-rings of a machine-gun!Brrrrrrrt! Brrrrrrt!Whipping lashes of lead banged at thespeeding car. Slugs spanked against its metalparts, ripped through the top. Desperately, thedriver swerved away beneath blanketing foliage.Bursts of bullets followed, tearing through theleaves, thudding into the ground, screaming offexposed rocks, rattling onto the sedan. There wasno shelter! The car swirled on.The man hanging half out the door oppositethe desperate driver fired upward crazily with hisautomatic The plane was circling, bearing downagain. The machine-gun was swinging towardhim. He glimpsed an emblem on the side of thefuselage--a bright colored triangle--the symbol ofthe Shreckites!Like a jackrabbit fleeing for its life, the carswerved into the open again as slugs spatteredbehind it. The sloughing roar of the airplane motorbeat directly above. Wrenching, jarring, bouncing,the scarred car whirled to dart away. And again,from above, a hail of death pelted.A withering fusillade pounded through the topof the careening automobile. The driver moaned,brushed his hat from a forehead that becamespotted and streaked with red. His companionfired upward wildly--lurched out the door. Whilethe car plunged on wildly he fell, rolled, sprawledinto a motionless heap. The clenching hands of_______________________________________________________________________________________________Operator 5TMINVASION OF THE DARK LEGIONS Oct. 1934______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A production of Vintage New MediaTMwww.vintagelibrary.com18the dying man on the wheel twisted the car crazilytoward a looming shadow.A terrific impact jarred the car to a stop. Itsradiator drove violently against a tree-trunk, burst,trickling water. The song of the motor died in thetriumphant snarl of the circling airplane. The shipspiraled up, leveled off, dead-headed low over thetrees in the direction it had come, leaving its deadbehind it. The droning of the motor vanished inthe air.Soon, over the smooth surface of the hiddenroad, came the sound of marching feet. Around acurve, toward the crated sections where themines had burst out their doom, two uniformedsquads appeared. They marched briskly to the"hup-hupping" of the officer who led them. Theywore the purple shirts of the shock troops of theShreckites.Behind them rolled a heavy lorry, decoratedwith the triangular symbol of a European dictator.The command of the officer stopped the truck andthe squads. The men set to work efficiently.They pulled picks, shovels, wheelbarrowsfrom the truck; they carried boxes of explosives.They labored, filled the ragweed craters. Justbeneath the surface they planted new stores ofdynamite, connected buried wires to fulminatecaps. Their skilled operations repaired the roadrapidly and expertly. When they finished, it wasagain an unbroken, smooth stretch.The squads marched again, the truck rolledon. The officer ordered them off the road towardthe wrecked, bullet-riddled sedan. To it theyhooked a heavy chain from the lorry. A powerfulmotor chucked, and the remains of the car werepulled to the road, dragged along it.The truck paused, and the other car was alsochained to it. It went on dragging both wrecks,disappeared around the bend. Soon the sound ofits motor died away.Presently other uniformed, purple shirtedsquads marched across grassy ground bearingseven litters. They halted on a barren hillside;they drove shovel blades into the earth; theylowered into a deep excavation the seven limpbodies they had carried. Shovels clinked againuntil the hole was filled. The Shreckite officercommanded ringingly and they marched awayfrom the unmarked graves. The rhythmic poundsof their heavy boots vanished into the quiet of thevalley.IN THE inner room of Secret IntelligenceHeadquarters 13 in Washington, D. C., Operator5 straightened wearily at his desk. For long hourshe had labored to discover the secret of theencoded documents he had seized in GregorBerblog's hideaway. He touched the cam of aDictaphone and sighed, "Ask Z-7 to come here."The face of the Washington Chief, as hestrode into the room, was haggard from asleepless vigil. He carried in his hands sheets ofyellow flimsies. He sat at Operator 5's desk andasked anxiously, "What is it?""These documents," Jimmy Christopher said,"prove beyond a doubt that the organization calledthe Sons of Eurland is scattered over this entirecountry. They have posts in every important cityfrom coast to coast. They have been engaging insecret military drill. Here is a copy of acommunication bearing the signature of EreckShreck declaring that Yanar Lerdoff is coming tothe United States to assume command.""The message we intercepted from thesecret wireless station," Z-7 declared, "stated thatLerdoff is now here. How is that possible?Because you insisted upon it, even after A-9'sreport of his suicide, I warned all Atlantic portsand all Coast Guard boats to search for him. Noword has come from them. How could he haveslipped into the country?"Chief, there is only one possible answer toLerdoff's move--an answer that also explains thestripping of the Icelandic Trader, and thedisappearance of the Canute's power-boat. TheShreckite movement in this country not only hasorganized troops at its disposal, but it hasequipped half with a fleet of boats--including asubmarine.""The sinking of the freighter leaves no doubtabout the submarine," Z-7 admitted, "but still I'mat a loss. That submarine has to replenishprovisions and recharge batteries. If it did that, itwould certainly be seen. But there has not beenthe slightest sign of it!""That fact proves the submarine and theother craft of the Shreckite organization possessa secret water-way," Operator 5 declared."What!""Chief," Jimmy Christopher leaned forwardtensely, "the information I've found in these codedmessages bears it out definitely. Shreckite agentswere already aboard the Icelandic Trader. Theyreleased the germs of anthrax that wiped out the_______________________________________________________________________________________________Operator 5TMINVASION OF THE DARK LEGIONS Oct. 1934______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A production of Vintage New MediaTMwww.vintagelibrary.com19officers and crew, meanwhile protectingthemselves. The cargo was then taken off byother men who came aboard and transferred toanother ship. There is no other way.""But I am having the cargoes of all in comingships checked against the freight bills of theIcelandic Trader," Z-7 protested. "So far not asingle piece of its freight has turned up.""Because the ship to which the cargo wastransferred has not yet put in. It will not put in untilit is no longer carrying that cargo. The freight isbeing transferred from it, bit by bit, to a secretsubmarine. The submarine is bringing it into thecountry through the secret water-way.""I don't understand--""A few pieces of freight remained on theIcelandic Trader when we boarded her. A fewmen were waiting to take care of it. Thosepacking cases contained machinery. Doubtless itwas intended to load those cases directly on thesubmarine, for it soon approached. The planwould have gone through and the freighter wouldhave been sunk without a trace if the wirelessoperator hadn't managed to reach the sendingkey and send the CQD message.""The secret water-way still baffles me,Operator 5."JIMMY CHRISTOPHER unrolled a map. "Itis a fact not generally known, Chief, that all ofNew England, including New York State, iscompletely surrounded by Waterways. TheHudson is navigable for 150 miles from the seaconnecting the Hudson and Lake Champlain,which lies between New York State and Vermont.It is the Champlain Canal. The upper end of LakeChamplain, which extends across the CanadianBorder, opens into the Richelieu River. TheRichelieu is in turn connected with the St.Lawrence by the Chambly Canal. From the mouthof the St. Lawrence to the mouth of the Hudson,then, runs this highly important waterway."Not only that, but the Welland Canalconnects Lake Erie with Lake Ontario, into whichthe St. Lawrence flows, and this opens the samewaterway to all the Great Lakes--reachinghalfway across the United States.""But those canals all have locks," Z-7protested. "A hostile submarine, wishing to passthrough them--""Could sneak through with other ships,"Jimmy Christopher pointed out. "A clevernavigator could take his submarine through them.It would steal through each lock in successionwithout being seen, submerged close at the sideof the other vessel. Depend on it, Chief, thatenemy submarine is able to take full advantage ofthat far stretching water-way--and what's more ithas been provided with a hidden dock somewherealong the way.""That," Z-7 exclaimed "explains thedisappearance of the cargo of the IcelandicTrader, and the manner in which Yanar Lerdoffpenetrated into the country!""Exactly. Lerdoff had no intention ofcommitting suicide. He leaped off the Ukima andwas careful not to be seen again. A small boat putout from one of the Shreckite vessels and pickedhim up. Once transferred to the submarine, hewas able to slip into the country, to the hiddendock, without being seen. A clever move, Chief,but Lerdoff is one of the shrewdest men living!""The fact that Lerdoff has entered the UnitedStates," Z-7 exclaimed, "proves that the nextgreat move of the Shreckites is to be directed atus!""Without a doubt!""I realize now," Z-7 sad gravely, "that youhave been right from the very beginning. Youwere thoroughly justified in carrying your worriesto the President. All this has been going on underour eyes, and you have been the first to realize itsappalling scope. The House Committee will beappalled when it learns the magnitude of what youhave uncovered.""What has already happened Chief,"Operator 5 declared gravely, "is merely a hint ofwhat is coming unless we organize to combat it."Z-7's stubby fingers tapped the desk. "Lastnight," he mused, "another propagandist speechwent out over the wires of the Inter-CoastalBroadcasting Company. Its scheduled programwas cut off in some way. The speech repudiatedour form of government, advocated a 'dictatorshipfor the masses'. The speaker was announced asSenator Daingerfield of California.""Daingerfield did not make that speech?""It was proved he did not. The man whospoke was an impostor. Last night the entirespeech would have covered over the coast tocoast hookup if the individual stations had notbeen ordered to throw it off. The broadcastingcompany is absolutely baffled--they can find nobreak in the main wires. Good Lord! Hundreds of_______________________________________________________________________________________________Operator 5TMINVASION OF THE DARK LEGIONS Oct. 1934______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A production of Vintage New MediaTMwww.vintagelibrary.com20thousands of people will be deceived by thesespeeches--will think they are coming from ournational leaders.""That," Operator 5 mused, "the Shreckiteswell realize. Chief, listen to me. Propaganda isonly one weapon being used against us. Thesecret army of occupation, wherever it is, isanother. But neither of these is as deadly as thethird weapon which the Shreckites are waiting touse.""That is--?""Bacteriological warfare A weaponinternationally outlawed! The most terrible forcean attacker can use against an enemy. We haveseen it strike twice, but only on a small scale. TheShreckites are planning to use it on a nation-widebasis, and these documents of Berblog's prove it!""Impossible!" Z-7 exclaimed."IT'S not only possible, Chief, it's imminent,"Operator 5 insisted. "Look at these reports. Theyprove that Shreckite forces are holding readystores of bacilli and viri. The botulism that struckdown the workers in the Basic Steel Millsyesterday is only an example--and a mild one.The same plague that wiped out every man saveone aboard the Icelandic Trader may sweepacross the nation."Plagues, Chief! Invisible weapons!Destructive agents that work invisibly--some sopowerful that they can fill whole cities with deadbefore any move to combat them can be made.These reports of Berblog's mention not onlybotulism and anthrax, but the bubonic plague,cholera, typhus, yellow fever. Diseases of horribledeadliness. The invaders can sweep them acrossthe nation while protecting themselves, wheneverthey please!""Is it possible that any military commanderwould be so merciless and inhuman as to makeuse of such a frightful weapon?" Z-7 questioned."They have already begun to use them,Chief! To the United States command, suchtactics are inconceivable. We have devices at ourcommand so deadly that we have discarded allthought of ever utilizing them. But the foe we facenow will stop at nothing because the prize itcovets is world dominion!"Z-7's face paled. Operator 5 rose stiffly."There are the documents. Read them foryourself, Chief! Read them and realize that thiscountry has an enemy within its boundaries--anenemy planning this very minute to crush ourgovernment, to make us slaves of an armed forceunder a despotic dictatorship. Unless we act--unless we marshal every force to combat it--weface certain destruction--now!"Jimmy Christopher stiffened to his feet andthe darkness in his eyes deepened.* * *Over the web of secret wires radiating fromHeadquarters 13 to every Intelligence sub-headquarters in the United States, imperativeorders flashed:"All known leaders and members of the Sonsof Eurland, in accordance with information tofollow, are to be taken into custody at once."At any indication of an outbreak of disease,local health authorities must be pressed tocombat it at the earliest possible moment.Sources of suspicious foodstuffs must be tracedwith all possible speed. Drinking-water reservoirsand clarifying stations must be kept underconstant guard."Any un-American propaganda matter ofShreckite origin must be confiscated and thesource traced."All Intelligence operators within the UnitedStates are herewith ordered to drop minor casesand concentrate on the extermination ofShreckism within the country."Upon the successful execution of theseorders depends in some measure thepreservation of the nation!"CHAPTER SIXTroops March!ON THE dark strand of the PequannockRiver, which weaves through the city ofBridgeport, Conn., and flows into Long IslandSound, ferries shuttle back and forth; coastwiseboats glide in and out; the air resounds with thepanting of engines and the bustling of freightmoving from the many humming factories whichline it. Its busy activity yields to quietude onlywhen darkness closes down._______________________________________________________________________________________________Operator 5TMINVASION OF THE DARK LEGIONS Oct. 1934______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A production of Vintage New MediaTMwww.vintagelibrary.com21Midnight, this night, came and passed. Theglow hovering above the city dimmed. The riverbecame black silence.Near a pier, located below a draw-span overwhich occasional pleasure cars scurried a greasyfaced old man slumped. Occasionally he openedheavy-lidded eyes to gaze along the oily water.When he heaved himself up with a groan, at last,he shuffled away in ragged shoes toward a dockwhich a light freighter was gliding.He ambled near as the boat made fast. Henoted the quick efficient acts of the crew; hesensed tight-nerved activity within the black hulls.A gang slid down and he shuffled toward the darkfigures which hurried to the pier."Spare a nickel buddy?" he whined to one ofthem. "Nickel for a cup of coffee, buddy?"A thick voice muttered, "Here!" A coin waspressed in his dirty hand. "Go away!"The disreputable-appearing old fellow notedthe bright eyes of gleaming blue, the labial accentof the man who had spoken. He shrank off at therebuke like a whipped dog, ambled on, and saw,through the corners of his eyes, men spreadingacross the pier as if to scrutinize every approach.His lagging steps chuffed into the quiet. Theshadows blotted him out.Across the cobbled street from the pier amotor snarled, and from the dark shell of a shedlights shafted. Into the street crawled a heavytruck; it backed laboriously to the pier andstopped there. A second truck lumbered out andclanked to a position beside it. A third followed--afourth. Their drivers hopped down, lowered thetail-gates as if in alert preparation.On the quiet deck of the light freighter a lowcommand rang. In the gloom men appeared,quickly assembling into precise ranks, shoulderssquared, bearing rifles to which bayonets wereaffixed. On their belts black devices hung inreadiness on hooks. Row after row of themappeared, forming squads.At another command, they marched. Downthe gang plank their boots tramped. A dim lightrevealed their trim uniforms over the tunics oftheir purple organization shirts. With mechanicalprovision, led by stiffly marching officers, theyadvanced to the line of trucks.They climbed in. The high tail-gates swungup. The drivers climbed behind the wheels andthe motor snarled again. The huge vehicles rolledaway in a clattering file, turned at an intersection.Out of the dark doorway of a river-front shed,the ragged old man stepped. His quick movealong the street was not the shuffling gait of thesemi-cripple he seemed before. At a corner heglimpsed the parade of trucks rumbling away,shouldered into an all-night lunch-wagon.He did not spend the coin that had beenpressed into his hand to buy a cup of coffee. Heslotted it into a pay-telephone in a booth in thecorner of the wagon.When his connection came through he spokequietly. "G-12 reporting."BLOCKS away a huge, ramblingmanufacturing plant stood. Its spreading patternof windows was dark. It seemed deserted andempty; but it was not.In one of the offices in the executive section,men were crowded, silent and waiting. As thetelephone jangled , the young man near it movedalertly. He heard a voice say "G-12 reporting,"and answered: "Operator 5."Jimmy Christopher heard G-12's quick report"Four trucks loaded with uniformed men--armed!They're heading your way. They're Shreckites!"Operator 5 answered tersely: "Goimmediately to pier 40. Instruct the men waitingthere to stay on watch. Prepare to cover the wayback to the dock. You're in command of them, G-12--the responsibility is yours.""Right!"Operator 5 turned warily to the heavy-setman whose eyes shone anxiously in the dim lightshafting through the windows from the street-lights. That man was Hamilton Grove, chiefexecutive of the manufacturing corporationhoused within the great factory--the CarringtonArms Works."Every door and window locked?" ask