At the end of an alley where the purple shadows lay like stagnant pools, Ranson paused. The alley was a cul-de-sac, which meant that the person he was trailing must have entered one of the houses. Very softly he tapped the long tube on the ground. Again with a hesitant swinging of dials, R-2340-B showed up, on the low step in front of one of the dilapidated, dome-shaped houses. Ranson's eyes narrowed. So the person who had played the mad murder melody had entered that house! Might still be there! Quickly he telescoped the "electric bloodhound," dropped it into his pocket, and drew his flame-gun.
The old house was dark, with an air of morbid deadly calm about it. Ranson tried the door, found it locked. A quick spurt from his flame-gun melted the lock; he glanced about to make sure no one had observed the greenish glare, then stepped inside.
The hallway was shadowy, its walls hung with ancient Martian tapestries which, from their stilted symbolic ideographs must have dated back to the days of the Canal-Builders. At the end of the hallway, however, light jetted through a half-open door. Ranson moved toward it, silent as a phantom, muscles tense. Gripping his flame-gun, he pushed the door wide ... and a sudden exclamation broke from his lips.
Before him lay a gleaming laboratory, lined with vials of strange liquids, shining test-tubes, and queer apparatus. Beside a table, pouring a black fluid from a beaker into a test-tube, stood a man. Half-terrestial, half-Martian, he seemed, with the large hairless head of the red planet, and the clean features of an earthman. His eyes, behind their glasses, were like green ice, and the hand pouring the black fluid did not so much as waver at Ranson's entrance.
Ranson gasped. The bizarre figure was that of Dr. Elath Taen, master-scientist, sought by the T.I. for years, in vain! Elath Taen, outlaw and renegade, whose sole desire was the extermination of all terrestials on Mars, a revival of the ancient glories of the red planet. The tales told about him were fabulous; and this was the man behind the unholy music!
"Good evening, Mr. Ranson," Elath Taen smiled. "Had I known T.I. men were on Mars I should have taken infinitely more precautions. However...."
As he spoke, his hand moved suddenly, as though to hurl the test tube at Ranson. Quick as he was, the T.I. man was quicker. A spurt of flame leapt from his gun, shattering the tube. The dark liquid hissed, smoking, on to the floor.
"Well done, Mr. Ranson." Elath Taen nodded calmly. "Had the acid struck you, it would have rendered you blind."
"That's about enough of your tricks!" Ranson grated. "Come along, Dr. Taen! We're going to headquarters!"
"Since you insist." Elath Taen removed his chemist's smock, began, very deliberately, to strip off his rubber gloves.