The intense heat gradually gave way to the cool breeze, which the Governor explained, “was caused by the uniting of the principal fluid with the fluid called ‘Cold Fluid,’ concealed within the small glaciers.”
Every one in the room turned his face toward the ceiling to see the representation of glaciers, and was greatly surprised to feel the cold air falling on his face as the heat ascended.
Cheer after cheer went up from the much pleased assembly. Their delight knew no bounds. It was the first knowledge they had of the means by which this magnificent auditorium was lighted, heated and made cool.
“The strange influence the liquid had at the certain stage before mentioned,” continued the Governor, “upon us working to bring about desired results with it in other conditions, gave rise to serious study of self while under its influence, and further experiments in making the same fluid stronger. On inhaling some of the stronger fluid we lapsed into a cataleptic state, and on our return to consciousness each astonished the other by relating wonderful and strange experiences. And strange to say, each of us had received the same remembrances of strange experiences which happened right in this city one hundred and fifty years ago. When we knew from our own personal knowledge that the liquid was perfectly harmless and capable of bringing about such wonderful results, we were determined to experiment upon others, and, if possible, find out if others had lived at the same time. And if the fluid caused those upon whom it was tested to recall one certain incident which we remembered to have occurred in the year 1898. in this city. This new fluid or liquid we call ‘Memory Fluid,’ and upon others it likewise worked marvels. They too recalled at once the same incident which we had recorded in our register. And now our great test case is about to be closed. The ‘Plunger from Kansas’ has positively been located. All the evidence of many persons now living who knew him in this town one hundred and fifty years ago, is about collected. He remembers himself. Retribution is overtaking him. See! this is his picture. Through a similar process to the one used in making this auditorium light, another has been used in producing from memory’s picture-gallery of the past, the picture you see of ‘The Plunger from Kansas,’ now before you.”
For an instant a hushed silence fell upon the large audience. Then as if by unanimous vote they at once cried out in the most tumultuous cheers.
The cries of: “Down with him, I remember him; he robbed my father in another life.” “Punish him.” “Catch him.” “Hang him.” “Put him in prison.” “Make him repent.” “See that his just due is meted out to him.” “Yes, for he escaped in the other life,” rang out.
One of the orthodox ministers—Rev. J. T. Note—there are still a few who hang on to their creeds with the same tenacity that Don Francisco R. Cantu y Falomir and his few followers do to the ancient customs and religion of their long-lost and beloved Republic of Mexico; arose and cried: “The wrath of God be upon such unholy teachings. Oh, God, spare our great nation, about to be plunged into an abyss of darkness and despair.”
When Father Hernandez, the best known priest in the city, cried: “Jesus and Mary protect us from evil,” Marriet Motuble arose from her conspicuous position in the box she occupied with the President, and cried: “Carry that scorpion, the Rev. J. T. Note, out. I know him of old. He tried to convert the ‘Plunger’ to his faith, to get some of his ill-gotten gains, no doubt. He was a missionary then, practicing his arts of conversion in Chihuahua. It is upon him the wrath of the gods should fall. And that priest, Father Hernandez,” she continued, as her body swayed back and forth, convulsed with laughter. “That priest, that priest, he was a voluptuous lout. Oh, the hangers-on he had. Clangity clang, clang, clang, every fifteen minutes went the bells in the towers of his ancient church, to call the peons to prayer—to get their centavos. Oh, you viper, you scorpion, get out of here!”
“Hush!”—came out the clear, distinct voice of the Governor.
Marriet Motuble sank quietly into her seat, at the sound of his voice.