"I'm afraid I don't, lad," the old man answered. "Nothing like it has ever been seen before." He reached into his pocket for his pipe. His questing fingers brought from the pocket not only the pipe but a spherical piece of glass that looked like a child's marble. He held it under the dash lamp. "A marble? Wonder where I picked that up?" Then he dropped it back into his pocket as he explored for his tobacco. "This much I can say, lad. Whatever it was that came out of that box, the museum, in a sense, is responsible. We brought the damned thing to this country. We've got to capture or destroy it before it does any more damage. If such a thing should escape into the city, the results might be terrible. I'll be down early in the morning, lad. I hate to go off like this, but the old body won't take punishment like it once would. You be careful." "I will, sir." "You darned well better be," said Penny, as she slipped the car into gear. * * * * * Rocks returned to the museum. With Kennedy and the other detectives he again made a complete search of the building. The museum was filled with nooks and crannies where anything might hide. They found nothing. They were again in the basement when the telephone on the main floor started ringing. Who would be calling at this time of the night, Rocks wondered as he raced upward to answer it. Very few people knew the number. He jerked the phone from its hook, and the voice in his ears almost took his breath away. It was Penny. She was screaming. "Rocks, please come quickly. That terrible thing is here. It's got grandfather. Hurry, please--" He waited to hear no more. "Come on," he yelled to the detectives. "That damned thing is loose again." Sirens screamed in the night as the squad car raced to the home of Andreas McCumber. Rocks rode in the seat beside Kennedy, and urged the detective to drive faster. "I'm doing seventy now," Kennedy grated. "Then do eighty," Rocks answered. Blood was running down his chin where he had bitten his lips. In his mind was the single thought: has something happened to Penny? CHAPTER III Penny's parents were dead. She lived with her grandfather, in a huge old brick house on a side street. They found her lying at the foot of the front steps. Rocks' heart leaped into his mouth when he saw the white form lying there, crumpled and twisted, in the rays from the light burning over the front door. Until that moment he had not fully known how much she meant to him. "Penny," he whispered. Had the same horrible death struck at her? Had she tried to flee only to find death racing after her, death coming faster than she could run? He was trembling as he knelt beside her. Then--she stirred in his arms. Her dress did not fall into dust at his touch, as Morton's clothing had. And her skin was white, not a hideous blotched red. Death had passed her by. "Oh, Rocks," she whispered. "It was awful--"