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The chief engineer, a tall, slim Italian, pointed out some inaccuracies in the refrigerator; a group of mechanics stopped to watch a tiny stream of gas that had been leaking out from somewhere.

Deriugin stepped aside, writing something into his notebook, when suddenly, in the rear of the dark passageway of the interior building, appeared the figure of a man who stopped bewildered in the center of the yard, apparently stunned by the clanking and noise that filled the air from all sides. The visitor’s face seemed familiar to Deriugin, but, for the moment, he could not recollect where he had met these restlessly seeking eyes, the protuberant forehead and hard-compressed lips.

Something strange, impetuous and alarming was in the stranger’s pose, and Deriugin was about to inquire how and wherefore he had come here, when their eyes suddenly met. Within a trice, Deriugin’s memory conjured up the forgotten image for him, and within the same trice the intruder’s eyes became inflamed with such rabid hatred, that the engineer unwillingly retreated. Eitel’s right hand dropped into his pocket and within a twinkle of an eye, Deriugin saw before himself the dark gap of the pistol’s bore.

Not realizing what it was all about, he uttered a cry and dashed off to the side of the ponderous engine. A shot rent the air, followed by another. Deriugin felt a burning sensation on his left shoulder. He turned around. Eitel stood a few feet away from him, aiming at close range for a new shot. From the cabin of the electromagnet a frightened face was peering out. At the refrigerator, the mechanics had gathered into a group, not knowing what to do.

'In this very brief moment, there flashed through Deriugin’s mind a bright thought. He made a sprint to the side of the magnet and shouted to the mechanic:

“Enrico, turn on the current!”

Another shot rent the air. Deriugin dropped to the ground. In the next moment something very astonishing had occurred: the pistol, tom out from Eitel’s hand by the great power of the magnet, flew up into the air the dozen feet 'that separated it from the magnet, struck with all its might against the frame and remained there, as if held up by an unseen hand.

Confounded, Flinder remained standing unmoved, gazing about himself with frenzied eyes. When the people ran up to him and grasped him by the arm, he did not try to resist, but followed silently after them. Turning back his head, from time to time, he looked up bewilderingly at his weapon, which hung upon the strange monster as though it were glued down to it.

Several people ran up to Deriugin and busied themselves about him. Happily, his wounds, one in the shoulder, the other in the left leg, were not dangerous; at any rate, the bone was not touched. He was carried into the central building.

“Well, well, Signor Deriugin, I am happy to congratulate you!” said the chief engineer, after he was bandaged. “You certainly had a lucky escape. Had you not torn the pistol from the fiend’s hand with the aid of the electro-magnet, we would not have had the pleasure of speaking to you now.”

Indeed, the current turned into the field coils had transformed it into a powerful magnet, which attracted Flinder’s pistol.

“Everything is well — that ends well!” replied Deriugin smilingly. “But it is too bad, for the accident will retard my work for a few days.”

A CROSS-EXAMINATION of Eitel proved beyond conjecture that they were dealing with a mentally-deranged person. He was one of those innumerable victims of the turbulent quarter of this century, whose fatigued and strained mind could not resist the powerful attacks of these frightful days. To turn him over to the authorities was not considered a wise move, as the streets nowadays were overfilled with similar madmen. Besides, the city itself resembled a huge Bedlam. It was decided to detain him on the factory grounds under special guard, in one of the rooms of the resident body of engineers.

However, in the pellmell of new events, he was completely forgotten. At the end of the week a dispatch came that the fiery vortex had again appeared on the French coast and it was coursing along the southwestern boundary toward the Mediterranean Sea. Three electromagnets from the Creusot Works were sent out by railroad to intercept it, but they arrived too late. Destroying Toulouse and converting the Haute-Garonne into a veritable desert, the fiery vortex again wended its course over the maritime expanse. Now, within about forty-eight hours, it was expected somewhere on the western coast of Italy. Five new engines, fully equipped, were mounted on platforms in Genoa and shipped to Rome, whence it was easy to move them to any point on the coast. Locomotives stood in readiness, day and night, awaiting orders to fling their loads into action.

Deriugin, the chief engineer, and a number of mechanics were all ready at any moment to meet the treacherous foe.

However, after reading through the details about the movements of the atomic flame, the young engineer suddenly began to doubt the expediency of his own project. The cursed sphere continued to grow ever larger and larger, making the approach to it difficult and dangerous. An entirely new question now arose. Would it be possible to get near enough the sphere — within the proximity of about 70 or 100 feet, for instance, without being exposed to the danger of being scorched in its sultry atmosphere? Would the electromagnets be effective at such a distance? And, if so, suppose they succeeded in encircling and arresting it? What then? Wasn’t it too' late?…

Deriugin, however, did not share his views with his comrades, but continued to work as obstinately as before. But this was not all; there was still another discouraging feature of this affair. Alarming dispatches were arriving from Naples; Vesuvius was speaking in a manner never heard before. Tremendous pillars of vapor, 12 to 18 miles high, were rising from the crater. The Earth was sighing and rumbling as on the day of the Last Judgment. Naples was already destroyed and the inhabitants were fleeing from under the ruins in wild terror.

All this was sufficiently awe-inspiring in itself, without adding to the already difficult struggle with the atomic vortex. All the railroads were crammed with train-loads of refugees from the South. The panic, doubled by the new catastrophe, completely disorganized the authorities. Besides, even here, about two hundred kilometers away from the volcano, light tremors of the Earth were beginning to be felt. And most of all, a noticeable wind was beginning to draw. The chief engineer was grumbling and scowling, it seemed, as if he too were beginning to wonder whether the struggle was worth the pains.

On Tuesday evening, June 1, the radio announced that the vortex had passed between Corsica and Sardinia, taking an eastward course; at the same time another engine had arrived in Rome from Genoa and five from Le Creusot, France, to assist in the work. This was considered sufficient power to cope with the situation. The whole division of engines moved further south, every necessary step was taken to facilitate the unloading, when the hour of battle arrived, or to trail the fiery enemy, if a chance presented itself. A chain of observation posts were stationed all along the coast; on belfries, churches and field watch- towers. Everyone’s nerves were strained to the extreme by feverish expectations. Meanwhile, from the south-east, the din of the volcano was clearly audible and a fiery pillar, like a giant torch, stood high in the darkening sky. Deriugin was filled with apprehension, as he anticipated the new, impending storm and shook his head sadly when he realized suddenly that the wind had begun to play stronger and sharper.