Cyborgs -- Fiction; Science fiction; Time travel -- Fiction
THE CLOCKWORK MAN
By E.V. ODLE AUTHOR OF "THE HISTORY OF ALFRED RUDD"
[Illustration]
LONDON WILLIAM HEINEMANN LTD. */
_First published April 1923_
_Printed in Great Britain_
"Consciousness in a mere automaton is a useless and unnecessary
epiphenomenon."--Prof. Lloyd Morgan.
TO
ROSE ISSERLIS
CONTENTS.
CHAP. PAGE
I. The Coming of the Clockwork Man 1
II. The Wonderful Cricketer 24
III. The Mystery of the Clockwork Man 40
IV. Arthur Withers thinks Things out 63
V. The Clockwork Man investigates Matters 84
VI. "It is not so, it was not so, and, indeed, God forbid
it should be so" 105
VII. The Clockwork Man explains Himself 131
VIII. The Clock 150
IX. Gregg 168
X. Last Appearance of the Clockwork Man 191
CHAPTER ONE
THE COMING OF THE CLOCKWORK MAN
I
It was just as Doctor Allingham had congratulated himself upon the fact
that the bowling was broken, and that he had only to hit now and save
the trouble of running, just as he was scanning the boundaries with one
eye and with the other following Tanner's short, crooked arm raised
high above the white sheet at the back of the opposite wicket, that he
noticed the strange figure. Its abrupt appearance, at first sight like
a scare-crow dumped suddenly on the horizon, caused him to lessen his
grip upon the bat in his hand. His mind wandered for just that fatal
moment, and his vision of the on-coming bowler was swept away and its
place taken by that arresting figure of a man coming over the path
at the top of the hill, a man whose attitude, on closer examination,
seemed extraordinarily like another man in the act of bowling.
That was why its effect was so distracting. It seemed to the doctor
that the figure had popped up there on purpose to imitate the action
of a bowler and so baulk him. During the fraction of a second in which
the ball reached him, this secondary image had blotted out everything
else. But the behaviour of the figure was certainly abnormal. Its
movements were violently ataxic. Its arms revolved like the sails of a
windmill. Its legs shot out in all directions, enveloped in dust.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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