"Stand by is right," the Chief agreed; "that's about all we can do. I have twenty men in and about the grounds--there will be as many more later on. And I know now just how little use we are to you, Del." "Your expression!" warned Delamater. "Remember you are talking to the President. Very official and all that." "Right! But now tell me what is the game, Del. If that devil fails to knock you out here where you are safe, he will get you when you leave the room." "Perhaps," agreed the pseudo-executive, "and again, perhaps not. He won't get me here; I am sure of that. They have this part of the room insulated. The phone wire is cut--my conversations there are all faked. "There is only one spot in this room where that current can pass. A heavy cable is grounded outside in wet earth. It comes to a copper plate on this desk; you can't see it--it is under those papers." * * * * * "And if the current comes--" began the visitor. "When it comes," the other corrected, "it will jump to that plate and go off harmlessly--I hope." "And then what? How does that let you out?" "Then we will see," said the presidential figure. "And you've been here long enough, Chief. Send in the President's secretary as you go out." "He arose to place a friendly, patronizing hand on the other's shoulder. "Good-by," he said, "and watch that electrician at twelve. He is to throw the big switch when I call." "Good luck," said the big man huskily. "We've got to hand it to you, Del; you're--" "Good-by!" The figure of the Chief Executive turned abruptly to his desk. There was more careful acting--another conference--some dictating. The clock on the desk gave the time as eleven fifty-five. The man before the flat topped desk verified it by a surreptitious glance at his watch. He dismissed the secretary and busied himself with some personal writing. Eleven fifty-nine--and he pushed paper and pen aside. The movement disturbed some other papers, neatly stacked. They were dislodged, and where they had lain was a disk of dull copper. "Ready," the man called softly. "Don't stand too near that line." The first boom of noonday bells came faintly to the room. The President--to all but the other actors in the morning's drama--leaned far back in his chair. The room was suddenly deathly still. The faint ticking of the desk clock was loud and rasping. There was heavy breathing audible in the room beyond. The last noonday chime had died away.... The man at the desk was waiting--waiting. And he thought he was prepared, nerves steeled, for the expected. But he jerked back, to fall with the overturned chair upon the soft, thick-padded rug, at the ripping, crackling hiss that tore through the silent room. * * * * * From a point above the desk a blue arc flamed and wavered. Its unseen terminal moved erratically in the air, but the other end of the deadly flame held steady upon a glowing, copper disc.