THE BEETLE HORDE VICTOR ROUSSEAU 229 _Bullets, Shrapnel, Shell--Nothing Can Stop the Trillions of Famished, Man-sized Beetles Which, Led by a Madman, Sweep Down Over the Human Race._ MAD MUSIC ANTHONY PELCHER 248 _The Sixty Stories of the Perfectly Constructed Colossus Building Had Mysteriously Crashed! What Was the Connection Between This Catastrophe and the Weird Strains of the Mad Musician's Violin?_ THE THIEF OF TIME CAPTAIN S. P. MEEK 259 _The Teller Turned to the Stacked Pile of Bills. They Were Gone! And No One Had Been Near!_ * * * * * Single Copies, 20 Cents (In Canada, 25 Cents) Yearly Subscription, $2.00 Issued monthly by Publishers' Fiscal Corporation, 80 Lafayette St., New York, N.Y. W. M. Clayton, President; Nathan Goldmann, Secretary. Application for entry as second-class mail pending at the Post Office at New York, under Act of March 3, 1879. Application for registration of title as Trade Mark pending in the U.S. Patent Office. Member Newsstand Group--Men's List. For advertising rates address E. R. Crowe & Co., Inc., 25 Vanderbilt Ave., New York; or 225 North Michigan Ave., Chicago. * * * * * Old Crompton's Secret _By Harl Vincent_ Tom's extraordinary machine glowed--and the years were banished from Old Crompton's body. But there still remained, deep-seated in his century-old mind, the memory of his crime. [Illustration: _Tom tripped on a wire and fell, with his ferocious adversary on top._] Two miles west of the village of Laketon there lived an aged recluse who was known only as Old Crompton. As far back as the villagers could remember he had visited the town regularly twice a month, each time tottering his lonely way homeward with a load of provisions. He appeared to be well supplied with funds, but purchased sparingly as became a miserly hermit. And so vicious was his tongue that few cared to converse with him, even the young hoodlums of the town hesitating to harass him with the banter usually accorded the other bizarre characters of the streets. The oldest inhabitants knew nothing of his past history, and they had long since lost their curiosity in the matter. He was a fixture, as was the old town hall with its surrounding park. His lonely cabin was shunned by all who chanced to pass along the old dirt road that led through the woods to nowhere and was rarely used.