Elusive Truth

: Secrets of Space
: Pharaoh's Broker

It was the Chicago Tribune of June 13th, 189-, which contained this

paragraph under the head-line: "Big Broker Missing!"



"The friends of Isidor Werner, a young man prominent in Board of

Trade circles, are much concerned about him, as he has not been seen

for several days. He made his last appearance in the wheat pit as a

heavy buyer Tuesday forenoon. That afternoon he left his office at

Roo
87 Board of Trade, and has not been seen since, nor can his

whereabouts be learned. He is six feet two inches high, of athletic

build, with black hair and moustache, a regular nose, and an

unpronounced Jewish appearance. His age is hardly more than

twenty-seven, but he has often made himself felt as a market force on

the Board of Trade, where he was well thought of."



But it was the Evening Post of the same date which prided itself on

unearthing the real sensation. A scare-head across the top of a first

page column read:





"A PLUNGER'S LAST PLUNGE!"



"The daring young broker who held the whole wheat market in his hands

a few months ago, amassing an independent fortune in three days, but

losing most of it gamely on subsequent changes in the market, has

made his last plunge. This time he has gone into the cold, kind bosom

of Lake Michigan. Isidor Werner evened up his trades in the wheat

market last Tuesday forenoon, and then applied for his balance-sheet

at a higher clearing house! No trace of him or clue to his

whereabouts was found, until the Evening Post, on the principle of

setting one mystery to solve another, sent its representative to

examine a strange steel rocket, discovered half-buried in the sands

of Lake Michigan, near Berrien Springs, two days ago. Our reporter

investigated this bullet-shaped contrivance and found an opening into

it, and within he discovered a scrap of paper on which were written

the words: 'Farewell to Earth for ever!' Werner's friends, when

interviewed by the Evening Post, all positively identified the

handwriting of this scrap as his chirography. It is supposed that he

took an excursion steamer to St. Joseph, Michigan, last Tuesday or

Wednesday afternoon, and walking down the shore toward Berrien

Springs, finally threw himself into the Lake. Neither Israel Werner,

with whom the dead man lived on Indiana Avenue, nor Patrick Flynn,

the chief clerk at his office, can give any reason for the suicide,

or explain the exact connection of the infernal machine (if such it

be) with the sad circumstance. But they both positively identify the

handwriting on the scrap of paper. We have wired our representative

to bring the mysterious machine to Chicago; and those who think they

may be able to throw any light upon the case, are invited to call at

the office of the Evening Post and examine it."



The Inter Ocean developed a theory that the suicide was only a

pretended one for the purpose of fraudulently collecting life insurance

policies. It was cited that Isidor Werner had insured his life for more

than $100,000, and this in spite of the fact that he had no family,

parents, brothers or sisters to provide for; but had taken the policies

in favour of his uncle, Israel Werner, and in case of his prior death,

in favour of a cousin, Ruth Werner. This theory gained but little

currency among those who knew the man best, and although the insurance

companies prepared to resist payment of the policies to the bitter end,

yet, as time went on, no one attempted to prove his death, nor to claim

the handsome sum which would result from it. Moreover, Israel Werner and

his daughter Ruth, the beneficiaries under the policies, persisted in

believing that their relative was yet alive, though they could give no

good reasons for so believing, nor explain his disappearance.



In its issue of June 15th the Tribune scouted the idea of suicide

altogether. It had a better and more plausible theory of the case.

Isidor Werner had a large sum of money in the Corn Exchange Bank,

drawing interest by the year. In case of either a premeditated or a

pretended suicide he would most certainly have withdrawn, and made some

disposition of, this money. In fact, he had, on the day of his

disappearance, drawn out five thousand dollars of it in gold. For this

coin the Tribune believed he had been murdered, and that they had a

clue to the murderer. The vanished man had several times been seen in

the company of a suspicious German, of intelligent but erratic

appearance. This queer character lived in a hotbed of socialism on the

West Side, and the young broker was supposed to be in his power. In

fact, it was known for certain that the erratic German had secured a

large sum of money from him, and that Werner had visited his rooms in

the slums of the West Side more than once. Moreover, the two had made a

secret railway journey together two days before the disappearance, and

on the very day that Werner was last seen, the German had fled his

lodgings without giving any explanation of his departure to his few

acquaintances. When the Tribune reporter called at these lodgings, the

landlord still had in his possession a gold eagle, with which the German

had paid his rent, and in the grate of the deserted room were the

charred remains of burnt papers. One of these was a rather firm, crisp

cinder, and had been a blue-print of a drawing. As nearly as could be

judged, from its shrivelled state, it appeared to be the plan of some

infernal machine. The name of the fugitive was Anderwelt, and he called

himself a doctor. Further investigations were being carried on by the

Tribune, which promised to prove beyond a doubt that he was the

murderer of Isidor Werner.



But the Evening Post still held the palm for sensations, and I copy

verbatim from its columns of June 15th:



"It is rare that a newspaper, dealing strictly in facts, has to

record anything so closely bordering on the supernatural and

mysterious as that which we must now relate. The following facts,

however, are vouched for by the entire editorial department of the

Evening Post, and many of them by several hundred witnesses. We

begin by apologising to the hundreds who have called at this office

and have been unable to see the Werner infernal machine. We gave it

that name in a thoughtless jest, but its subsequent actions have more

than justified the title. Our reporter brought it from Berrien

Springs, as directed, and deposited it in the court of the Evening

Post building. As is quite generally known, this court is a central

well in the building, affording ventilation and light to the interior

offices, from every one of which can be seen what goes on in it. The

well is spanned by a glass roof above the eighth storey. In this

court, at eleven o'clock this morning, the entire editorial and a

large part of the business staff of this paper, repaired, to examine

the mysterious rocket-like thing. A little lid was opened, showing

the recess where the tell-tale scrap of paper, written by Werner, had

been found. Inside there seemed to be a pair of peculiar battery

cells, whose exact nature was hidden by the outer shell. Outside

there were several thumb-screws, which were turned both ways without

any apparent effect. While making this examination the machine had

been set up on its lower end, and when it was again laid down it

refused to lie on its side, but persisted in standing erect of its

own accord. This was the more wonderful because the lower end was

not flat, so that it would afford a good base, but was pointed. More

than a hundred people saw it stand up on this sharp tip, saw it lift

up light weights which were placed upon it to hold it on its side,

and saw it quickly right itself when it was placed vertically but

wrong end down.



"Thinking this queer property had been contributed to it in some way

by loosening the thumb-screws, they were next all set down as tightly

as possible, to see if this tendency to erectness would be lost.

Then, to the astonishment of every one in the court, and of several

hundred people who were by this time watching from the interior

windows, this infernal machine, without any explosion, burning of

gases, or any apparent force acting upon it, slowly rose from the

ground, and then, travelling more swiftly, shot through the roof of

glass and vanished from sight! Nor has the most diligent search

enabled us to recover it. Does it possess the secret of Isidor

Werner's death?"



But the Chicago Herald had been working thoroughly and saying little

until its issue of June 16th, when it claimed the credit of solving the

whole mystery. Its long article lies before me as I write: There had

been no suicide; there had been no murder; there had been no infernal

machine. Doctor Anderwelt was a learned man, and the warm personal

friend of Isidor Werner. Both men had shared the same fate; they might

yet be alive, but they were certainly at the bottom of Lake Michigan

together! They were imprisoned there in a sunken submarine boat, which

was the invention of Doctor Anderwelt, and was built with funds

furnished by the young broker. The foundryman who had constructed the

big torpedo-shaped contrivance had been interviewed. He knew both men,

and they were on the most friendly terms. In a moment of confidence

Doctor Anderwelt had told him the machine was for submarine exploration;

had explained the four-winged rudder, which would make it dive into the

water, rise to the surface, or direct it to right or to left. Moreover,

there were closed living compartments, around which were chambers

containing a supply of air. He himself had pumped them full of

compressed air, and it was so arranged that foul air could be let out

when used and new air admitted. When all had been finished the

foundryman had shipped the new invention, via the Michigan Southern

Railway, to the shore of the Lake near Whiting, Indiana. Next the

Herald had sought and found the conductor whose train had hauled it to

Whiting. He remembered switching off the flat-car there, and he was

surprised on his return trip next morning to see the heavy thing already

unloaded and gone.



Undoubtedly, the two men had made an experiment with the diving boat

under the surface of the water; and its failure to operate as hoped had

resulted in its sinking to the bottom, with the two men imprisoned in

it. On no other hypothesis could its disappearance, and that of the two

men, be so plausibly accounted for. But as they had stores of air, and

probably of food, there was a possibility that they were still alive

inside the thing in the bottom of the Lake! Only three days had elapsed

since it had been launched, and the Herald was willing to head a

subscription to drag the Lake and send divers to search for and rescue

the two unfortunate men!



All this serves to illustrate the untiring energy of newspaper

investigation, as well as the remarkable fertility of journalistic

imagination; for none of these clever theories hit at the real truth, or

explained the correct bearing of the astonishing facts which the

newspapers had so industriously unearthed.



And if the mystery of the disappearance of Isidor Werner was uncommonly

deep and wonderful, the explanation and final solution of it is not less

marvellous. After a delay of more than six years, it has just now come

into my hands whole and perfect. It is in no less satisfactory form than

a complete manuscript written by the very hand of Isidor Werner! I came

strangely into possession of it, and it relates a story of interest and

wonder, compared with which the mystery of his disappearance pales into

insignificance. But the reader may judge for himself, for here follows

the story exactly as he wrote it. Upon his manuscript I have bestowed

hardly more than a proof-reader's technical revision.



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