Tales of the Thinking Machine
ned face, always drawn and pale, was deathly white now, the thin straight lips were colorless, the eyelids drooping, and the profuse yellow hair was t
stood with distended eyes gazing in terror and apprehension. She was not of the screaming kind, but a great lump rose in her old t
e - devotion to this eminent man of science whom she had ser
only fainted. She grasped at the idea hopefully, and turned, seeking water. There was a faucet over a sink at the end of the long table, and innumerable graduated glasses; but even in her excited condition Martha
he paused a second time in amazement. The distinguished scientist was sitt
anyone call?"
happen to you?" she
," he explained irrita
w do you fee
all right," The Thinking Machine assured her, and put
hat white when I picked yo
on my back
all sprawled out. I tho
f his head, and Martha rattled on verbosely, indicating jus
dn't hear any sound?" aga
ing,
sudde
aying the tea things, sir, and opene
r, and The Thinking Machine moistened his l
"go see if the front
Yes, sir," she rep
cke
s,
nto a mirror which hung there, after which he wandered all over his apartments, examining windows, trying doors, and stopping occasional
, sir?" she ask
t hear any sound of any
thing
one. In a minute or so he was in conversatio
elivery at Chisholm
ed the repo
escape," said the s
d the reporter eagerl
ip Gilfoil. I don't know how
atch repeated. "He'
ne abruptly. "He's out. You might go over
was at Chisholm prison, a vast spreading structure of granite in th
t escaped?" Hat
en with a momentary start, a
ing Philip Gilfoil
e," was the grim response. "He i
have seen him?" th
," was the r
have been instances where denials of this sort have been made offhand with the idea of
lfoil?" he in
rden cheerfully. "Come
ng the corridor to Cell 9. "Ninet
t I'd be?" grumble
he door fo
en Philip Gilfoil; but there was not the slightest question in his mind about the identity of this man. It was Gilfoil - the same sharp, hooked n
me, Gilfoil?"
hing but a kindly expression in the voice. "You're the fellow
n!" he remarked pointedly, accusingly. "I want to know the real
reply. "All the prisoners are allow
never been out
rden. "He's in for eight years, and
eason in the world to believe - that h
aid the warden, and he laughed with the utmo
He went instead to a telephone an
ing escaped," he told the scientist
m?" came the ir
eplied the reporter. "He was i
ine what it meant - The Thinking Machine w
t in the same irritable, querulous voice. "Gilfoil is not in his ce
hen he called at the prison half an hour or so after Hatch had gone he was received with more courtesy and attention than would have
g about this man Gilfoil," t
Hutchinson Hatch was here a littl
e scientist. "He tells me
a year, and will remain here for another seven years. Hatch seemed to have an
an instant inscrutably, then glanced up at the c
lfoil is in his cell?
at his visitor curiously. This constant questioning as to Convict 97, and the implied doubt behind it, was anything but sooth
lfoil?" queried The Think
more than
haved pr
ely he has realized the uselessness of it all, and now, I may say, he is a model of decency. That's the usual cours
ust when did you first notice this c
six weeks ago,
al change or a
pose it might be called a sudden change. I noticed one day that
ently at the official for an instant. Then he sank back again, and his eyes wand
any particular impression on my mi
you since?" the s
heard him swear since. He's
cal
ame here to see him twice. There was some
physician didn't attend him?" deman
the response. "He had twelve or fifteen dollars here
n the scientist's mind; for there came a subtle change
wly at last, "if the physician was called
ily. "What the deuce is all this about, a
you said. How d
tor told me it wasn't anything particularly -
him personally?" demanded The Thinking Machine, and
nown him for years. I le
almost disappointed. He dropped back
see Gilfoil?"
walk down the corridor very, very softly and flash y
ittle nervous laugh. No man knew better than he that Convict 97 was still there, yet to please this whimsical visitor he lighted his dark lante
the scientist.
wasn't. He was down on his k
I hate to put you to so much trouble," he said; "but believe me it is in the interests of justice. I should like personally to visit
slightest movement to indicate even a casual interest in anybody or anything. The warden, busy with some accounts, glanced around curiously at the diminutive figure half a dozen times; once or twice he ima
ase," he
they went on to Cell 9. They paused at the door. There was utter silence in the huge prison, broken only by the regular, rhyt
se," whispered
the face of the sleeping man. For a second or so he gazed steadily at the features upturned thus to him, then
hine suddenly, and he leaned forward so that the cut
risoner repl
me?" insisted
right." Convict 97 raised himself on an elbow and
o you wear?" dema
usiness!" growl
nd examined them carefully, after which he replaced them, nodded to the warden, and they went out. The prisoner lay for a long time,
rden's office again. The record book was forthcoming. The scientist copied, accurately and at length, everything written the
ed the Warden - "Dr.
ket, planted his hat more firmly on the great shock o
ded the warden desperately. "Be good enough to inform
er the circumstances you can be blamed for what has happened; but the man you have in Cell 9 is not Philip Gilfo
little scientist
no answering sound. The modest cottage in a quiet street of a fashionable suburb seemed wholly deserted, yet as he steppe
y wouldn't they answer? As he looked the trickling light remained still, and then he went to the door and tried it. It was un
before him, a single arm shot out from the gloom of the hall,
then the door banged behind him. He could see nothing; the darkn
young fellow, right no
e point of the chin, strange lights dancing fantastically before h
n his eyes. For half a minute he lay still, until he had remembered those singular events which had preceded this, and then he started up. He was leaning on one elbow surveying the room,
aps it was a spirit of defense, perhaps a natura
demanded flatly. "Wh
, and her lips trembled. "I'm glad i
?" Hatch ask
"Please don't! If you are able to
ngth rushing through his veins, and a naturally inquisitive mind fully aroused. If it was only a poke in the jaw h
who struck me las
ything - it's all horrible and unreal and hideous!" Tears were streaming
not going yet," he sai
can tell - nothing
across her cheek and neck - it might have been the mark of a lash. Whatever particular
l me about it
I can't!"
r stained face, as she lifted her head to listen.
e'll kill you!" wh
icially in his hands, and glanced toward the woman reassuringly. She had dropped down on the couch and had buried her face in
knob of the door. Then it opened and a man ente
ge!" he
muscled arms. The man sank to the floor without a sound; the woma
hine and Hutchinson Hatch, together with a powerful cabman,
p Gilfoil," said The Th
den almost shouted
hilip Gilfoils, if one might trust the evidence of a sense of sight; the first with dissipated, brutally l
the man from Cell 9. "This is the Rev. Dr. Phineas Gilfoil, pastor of a fashionable little church in a suburb, and,"
rom one to the other of the two men. The facial lines were
forger, the real Convict 97, who has been out of this prison for five weeks and four days, wears a number eight and a half shoe, according to your own re
n the upper part, it was so large. Dr. Gilfoil dropped back weakly into a chair without a word and buried his face in his hands; Philip Gilfoil, the
laces?" demanded the warden stammeringly
. On your own books, in your own handwriting, is a complete solution of the problem, although y
a page, and stopped at a written
lf-hour's conversation with 97 in afternoon. Broug
for the specific purpose of changing places with his brother - the motive doesn't appear - and was to remain in the cell for a time agreed upon. The necessary changes of clothing were made, instructions which were to enable the minister to impe
nger at the trick of which he had been the victim.
oil. "Put him where he belongs!" Then he turned toward the w
y; then the warden reached
ve your prisoner now, safely enough, and here you are about to turn over to the police
isoner?" blazed the warden. "That makes him
brother who, in this man's eyes, must be free for a short time at any rate. The reason of this, the necessity, while urgent, still doesn't appear. Dr. Gilfoil trusted his brother, criminal though he was, to return to his cell in four weeks and finish his sentence. The exchange of prisone
hoarsely, his voice quivering with emot
sion of your house while maudlin from drink, to the point of striking your wife like the coward he is, and of making a temporary prisoner of Mr. Hatch here, who had gone to
ed together, fighting back an emotion which nearly overwhelmed him. After a moment came a strange so
that justice would demand the imprisonment of this man. I believe it would be far be
rime," interrup
ok even a crime, if it does no harm, and if it is inspired by the mot
s and fingers pressed tip to tip; Dr. Gilfoil's eyes roved from the drawn, inscrutable fa
ut this escape first?" as
a mirror above my work table, saw him, and tried to avoid the blow. It caught me in the back of the head, and I fell unconscious. Martha made some noise outside which must have frightened Gilfoil, for he fled. The fro
the prisoner's behavior, which confirmed my knowledge that it was Philip Gilfoil who had attacked me. I sought to surprise Dr. Gilfoil here into a betrayal of identity by a visit to his cell at night. But his loyalty to his broth
nd, Mr. Hatch, while I called on Dr. Heindell who had treated the prisoner for a bad throat. He informed me that there was nothing at all the matter with the prisoner's throat, so a plain problem in additio
n. That official had been turning the matter over in his m
pectfully, "and change clothing with your brother. You couldn'