Spring-heeled Jack and the President's Ring

Chapter 11 ~ Magnetron and the Black Obi

"The questioning continued as the Hogalums—and the Grants—looked on in wonder.  'Anders,' I asked, 'why did you go to Richmond?'"

I cannot express with mere words the peculiar admixture of puzzlement and solace I felt upon seeing Anders once again.  Yes, there he was, hunched on the floor of the cell—wet, shaking, a mere shell of his former self.  I implored President Grant to intercede on Anders's behalf, and he was eventually released.

We returned to Boileau's home in the wee hours of the following morning.  Boileau was mercifully quiet.  Anders bathed, shaved, dressed, and took a small meal.  He was pale, thin, and dappled with minor cuts, scratches, bruises, and abrasions, but appeared to be in otherwise sound health.  He attempted to explain his disappearance, but Anders was not an especially verbal fellow under the best of circumstances, and his memory of his odyssey was fraught with significant gaps.

He had gone to Richmond four weeks previously for reasons he could not recall, and the interval between then and now was little more than a flickering collage of ineffable phantasmagoria.  I was reticent to press him further in view of his brittle mental condition.  I sighed heavily and informed Anders that Mrs. Mackenzie would be relieved to know that he was well, whereupon he became rather agitated.  "Has she worried terribly?  We must cable that dear woman at once!"

Valkusian regretfully interrupted, advising that we ought to pursue the facts of this mystery, and Anders agreed to be placed into an anodyne trance-like state.  The questioning continued as the Hogalums—and the Grants—looked on in wonder.

"Anders," I asked, "why did you go to Richmond?"

"To see Southwick."

"General Southwick?"

"Yes."

Anders had apparently come to believe that Southwick, the eccentric leader of the Remarkable Myrmidons, had engineered the theft of the Luftigel plans.  Anders blamed himself for the security breach and resolved to retrieve the designs before I noticed their disappearance.  Upon his arrival at the Myrmidon headquarters, Anders was overcome by an army of henchman and rendered unconscious, awakening some time later in a perfectly black room somewhere in London.  A man he called "the witch doctor" danced circles around him, uttering incomprehensible incantations until Anders lost all sense of himself.  From that point forward, he assumed the role of Spring-heeled Jack.

When the interview was concluded, Valkusian directed Anders to drift into a deep sleep, and we began looking through his personal effects which had been turned over to us by the Calais police.  A silver plated helmet and a short cape, the signature costume of the dreaded Spring-heeled Jack, and a small leather pouch—these were the sole items found in his possession.

President Grant picked up the pouch.  "This is my ring, I am sure of it."  However, when the pouch was opened, instead of a ring, a tiny replica of the vexing ceremonial masks was extracted from within.  "It is an obi," said Valkusian gravely, "a diabolismic charm."  He took the miniature mask and read aloud a series of primitive runic ideograms carved into the reverse of it.

"Ooo, eee, ooo-ah-ah.  Ting tang walla-walla bing-bang," he intoned.

Anders's eyes opened suddenly at these vocalizations and he stiffened in his chair.  Valkusian did not notice this, and continued the recitation.  "Pulu see bagoomba!" Anders stood abruptly and snatched up the mask amulet, and the helmet and cape, lunging toward a large window.  "Stop him!" I cried, but it was too late.