THE RAT RACKET

 By DAVID H. KELLER, M. D. 

 _With Dr. Keller's genius for hitting at vital spots every time, he now gives us a brand new idea and an ingenious solution. We hope no racketeers read this story. They might, as a result, cause the police some trouble. Fortunately, however, the racket has a flaw. _

Richard Moyer, senior partner of the firm of Moyer & Perkins, read thatletter over twice before he called in the man who had helped him makethe importing of high grade groceries from England a most profitablebusiness for over twenty years. 

He simply handed the letter over to Paul Perkins without a word ofexplanation. The latter read it through and handed it back in equalsilence, but the hand that held the letter trembled. 

"Just another racket, " exclaimed Moyer, finally. 

"Looks like it. I suppose we were foolish to start in paying forprotection. First our trucks were threatened; then the new building;after that our best customers were bombed, and we had to pay to protectthem. Your son was kidnapped--and the police! They even went so far asto advise that we keep on paying--and now this letter! We might as wellclose out the business. All our profits go toward supporting a gang ofcriminals who have muscled into every type of American industry. "

[Illustration: They were running out through the picture. A crazed mantore it from the wall. ]

"On the face of it the letter looks innocent enough, " sighed Perkins, ashe picked it up and gave it another reading. "Simply says that the ratmenace is increasing, cites several business houses where the rodentshave done a great deal of damage, and offers to give our warehousescomplete protection for five thousand a week. You could show that letterto a hundred police officials and they would laugh at your fears. But Iam not laughing. Because that letter was written on the same damagedtypewriter that the other letters were written on and those gangstershave not failed to make any of their threats good. "

"Suppose we pretend that they are honest, and answer their letter andsend them a check for the first week's protection?"

"They will laugh at you and send back the check. "

"They may, at that. Then we will give them the cash. In either case, itwill give us time to think. I feel that they are only experimenting withus. They are after larger game than five thousand a week. We shall seeand hear more of this rat business in a while. Write to them and tellthem that we will pay the cash, and put the entire matter in the handsof the Chamber of Commerce. If it does not act soon, the entire citywill be in the hands of the gangsters. "

The complaint of Moyer & Perkins was only one of a dozen similar oneswhich reached the Chamber of Commerce that day. In a secluded room ofthe Manufacturers' Club a dozen wealthy men met day after day, hearingand weighing evidence against a hundred forms of racketeering which wasrapidly becoming a terrible and powerful enemy to the varied industriesof the Metropolis. Practically every business had been threatened andmore than one captain of industry blustered openly, but paid his weeklytribute silently in order to protect his business, family, and home. 

Up to this time the usual weapon had been the strong arm man and thebomb. While these were bad enough, they were at least understood. Whenit came to rats, it was different. Of course, everybody knew somethingabout rats--that they were supposed to be numerous around the riverfronts and warehouses--but on the other hand, rats were seldom seen indaylight, and there were many New Yorkers who never saw one. 

Not one of the dozen men had been raised on a farm and none had servedin the trenches during the World War. They did not understand rats, so, they hesitated, and finally simply advised the merchants who hadreceived the rat letters to use their own judgement. As a result, somepaid tribute and some did not. There is no evidence to show that thosewho paid were one hundred per cent free from rats in their warehouses, but within a week there was ample proof that at least three wholesalegroceries and one laundry had been invaded overnight by rats insufficient quantity to cause thousands of dollars' worth of damages. Moyer & Perkins heard the news and decided to pay another five thousand. 

The Defense Committee of the Chamber of Commerce was called to an extrameeting at the El Dorado Hotel. The owner of the hotel was one of theCommittee, a man who, so far, had taken a very inactive part in itstransactions. He did not waste time in giving the reason for the specialmeeting. 

"I was called on the telephone this morning, " he explained. "The personat the other end wanted to protect my hotel from rats for the smallcompensation of twenty-five thousand dollars a week. He referredcasually to the three warehouses and one laundry that had been wreckedlast week. Right at the present time I have, on an average, twelvehundred guests a night. They are here to be entertained, not to befrightened by rats. But here is the point. If I yield, every other hotelin the city will be placed in a similar position. Three hundred thousandstrangers are in the city every day. Suppose that ten hotels wereoverrun with rats in one week and the fact was circulated in the press?What would that cost the city?"

"Better pay it, " growled one of the men. He happened to own a hotel. Heknew how temperamental was the pleasure-seeking stranger. Singularly, that advice was the only brand given by the rest of the Committee. Theyseemed strangely unable to offer any remedy except to keep on paying andin every way possible bar unpleasant news from the newspapers. 

Inside of next month, fifty-five hotels were paying a weekly tax to therat racketeers. One small hotel refused, and was at once deluged with anarmy of rats which drove out guests and employees, killed one old scrubwoman and severely injured twenty of the cooks, waiters and porters whoreceived the brunt of the rodent onslaught. 

Moyer & Perkins were still paying the five thousand a week when, totheir surprise, a visitor dropped into their office and casuallysuggested that they sell him their business. 

"It used to be a good business, " explained Moyer. 

"It still is, " interrupted Perkins. "What my partner means is this. Wehave our share of trade, but the overhead has become so heavy that wehave not been able to make any money lately. "

"That is what I understand, " commented the stranger. "In fact, I wassent here by the Chamber of Commerce. They told me you had been payingmoney for rat protection. That is about the only reason I want to buyyour business. Your business is supposed to be worth about two hundredthousand and your real estate as much more. Suppose I give you half amillion and advise you to keep quiet about the sale?"

"You mean carry on the business under the old name?" asked Moyer, looking at the prospective buyer earnestly. 

"Something like that. "

The Englishman shook his head. 

"Not and remain in this country! They kidnapped my son. No telling whatthey will do next, if the policies of the firm are changed. Anythingthat is done we shall be blamed for, no matter who really owns thebusiness. "

"Then, you and your partner take a vacation in Europe. You can affordit. All I am asking for is an exact account of your transactions withthese racketeers, so I can have something to work on. "

"May I ask what you want to do with the business?" interrogated theJunior Partner, Perkins. 

"Certainly. I intend to use it as one of my experimental laboratoriesfor the study of a mammal, known as the _Mus Norvegicus_, called, incommon English, the brown rat. He is supposed to have originated fromthe _Mus Humiliatus_ of Central Asia. Now will you gentlemen take thehalf million?"

"We will!" exclaimed Perkins. "Then may I ask your name?"

"Winifred Willowby. "

"Not the one who is reputed to own more United States bonds than anyother man in America?" gasped Richard Moyer. 

"I won't admit that I do, but I am the man you are thinking about. "

"Then I simply cannot understand why you want to mix up in this ratbusiness. "

"Simple enough. I am a hundred per cent American. For five generationsmy people have been born and buried in this city. I own over two hundredmillion dollars worth of land here. When the dregs of Europe come overto my city and use the rats of Asia to bleed that city white, then Ipersonally protest. I am going to start something. I am not sure what, but when I finish, this city will be practically rat empty and gangsterfree. "

"A large programme, Mr. Willowby, " whispered Perkins. 

"But I am a large man. Now, suppose I write you gentlemen a check?"

Five minutes later the two partners were alone. Moyer looked at thecheck, then put it in his pocket, and his hat on his head. 

"Suppose we get it cashed?" he said to Perkins. "You can do as youplease with your half, but I am going to take my family and go back toEngland. That man Willowby is only half pint size, but his blue eyeslook cold to me, and I bet he plays a stiff game of bridge. If he startsfighting those gangsters, I do not want to be caught on thebattlefield. "

"How about starting a business over in England?" asked Perkins. 

"Not a bad idea. I came over here and together we made half a millionselling English groceries to Americans. Perhaps we can make a millionmore selling American groceries to Englishmen. "

Winifred Willowby not only bought the grocery business of Mover &Perkins; he bought a laundry, a small hotel, an apartment house and atheatre. He kept all the old employees, put in a manager, instructedthat the weekly tribute should be paid as usual, and then disappearedfrom New York City. 

Ten days later, in Paradise Valley, in the broken country below thePoconos of Pennsylvania, he entertained several men, each an authorityin his special line of art or science. They kept the appointment, notbeing at all sure what it was for, but unable to refuse the invitationwhich was accompanied in each case with a substantial check. They hadall heard of Willowby, but none had ever seen him. No doubt all wererather disappointed at his apparent lack of color and personality. Theyquickly changed their mind when he started to talk, for there was a manwho, when he had something to say, was able to say it briefly and to thepoint. 

"You men are all interested in rats, " he began, "and so am I. You haveworked with rats in one way or another for a good many years. Perhaps Iought to introduce you to each other. Mr. William Rastell has writtenthe best biological study of rats in the English language. He has donefor rats what Beebe did for the pheasant. Now the gentleman next to Mr. Rastell is Mr. Carol Crawford. I doubt if he ever actually saw orwillingly handled a rat in all his life, but I am told he knows moreabout the folklore and traditions of the rat than any other livingperson. The third of my guests is Professor Wilson. He is thepsychologist who has tried to breed different strains of rats, some ofsuperior intelligence and others of the imbecile type. What I want yougentlemen to tell me is why these rats congregate at times in certainbuildings of New York City, in such large numbers that they are aserious menace to property and even human life, and, then, as suddenlydisappear as they appeared. "

"Are they actually doing that?" asked Professor Wilson, who had suddenlybecome vitally interested in the conversation. 

"Suppose they are?" queried Carol Crawford, answering the question forWillowby. "That is nothing more than they have done for centuries. "

"Do you mean migratory movements?" asked the biologist, Rastell. "Ratshave always migrated. "

"I mean nothing of the kind, " protested Crawford. "I mean their suddenappearance in a town or a building, their remaining there for a shorttime and then their sudden disappearance. The folklore and fairy talesare full of that sort of thing. "

"That is why I asked you to come to this conference, Mr. Crawford, "explained Willowby. "There is something peculiar happening in New Yorkat the present time, and it has to do with rats and their actions. Insome way rats of New York seem to be under the control of a set ofracketeers who are able to force them to enter any building they select. The rats come and go suddenly. It is all over in a little while, butwhen they are in the building, they do a lot of damage. "

Mr. Crawford interrupted him. 

"I doubt if you use the right word, when you say the rats were forced toenter the building. Perhaps you mean that the rats were by some meansplaced in such a psychic condition that they wanted to enter thebuilding. "

"That brings the matter into my field of research, " insisted ProfessorWilson. "I doubt the fact that they were forced, but if they wanted to, why that brings up all kinds of interesting questions. "

"That is what I am after, gentlemen. I simply want to present theproblem to you and have you solve it. I personally am satisfied with onething. These rats are no different than the rats of five thousand yearsago. They are just like the rats of classic Greece and imperial Rome. Maybe Mr. Crawford will tell us how they acted. "

The antiquarian fairly beamed as he started to ride his favoritehobby-horse. 

"Of course, the story everyone thinks of is the one concerning the Piperof Hamelin. It was in the year 1284. The rats were thick, and the Piperagreed to lead them out of the town for a certain sum. He played a pipe, no doubt some kind of flute, and the rats followed him. When the peoplerefused to pay, he returned on the 26th of June, the feast of SaintsJohn and Paul, and again played on the pipe. This time the children, onehundred and thirty in number, followed him into a cave and were lost. The date is well documented. A number of historians believe that itactually occurred, and on the gate of the town is the statement. 

 "'_CENTUM TER DENOS CUM MAGUS AB URBE PUELLOS DUXERAT ANTE ANNOS CCLXXII CONDITA PORTA FUIT. _'[1]

"The same story is found, with variations, in all parts of the world. There is, for example, the story of the wicked Hatto, abbot of Fulda. Hewas visited by a swarm of rats who killed him. I can give you a dozenvariations of that story, but in each of them the rats came and went, suddenly, as Mr. Willowby says they have been doing in New York. "

"I should like to see a few examples of this mass movement of rats. Isaw a lemming migration in Norway, but that was different, " explainedRastell. "It seems to me that if we actually saw one of these nocturnalattacks, we might learn why they wanted to do it. "

"He is deadly right, " agreed Professor Wilson. "A few actual facts areworth a hundred theories. "

"That is why I have asked you to help me, " explained the richest man inNew York. "I have prepared some experimental stations for your use. Ican put you in a grocery warehouse and guarantee that inside of a weekyou will see more rats than you ever dreamed of. I have a laundry and asmall hotel. We can work out the details right now. All I am asking ofyou is to find out, when the rats come, _why they come_ and, once weknow that, we can do something to solve this problem. "

"The game looks interesting, " declared the Professor of rat psychology. "What I am interested in is why the rats do it. I am sure that it isbecause they want to do it, but are they forced to want to do it? It isa problem that will take a lot of research to solve, but Rastell and Ican solve it. With all respects to our friend, Mr. Crawford, I thinkthat he had better stay away and just keep on reading about his littlepets. A few thousand vicious rats would be hard for him to deal with. "

"I guess you are right, " laughed Winifred Willowby. "Crawford and I willstay here and read about it while you two do the actual scientific work. By the way, Crawford, in that story of the Piper, what was given thecredit for drawing the rats out of the town?"

"The tune that he played on the pipes!"

"Check and double check. Now I would advise you gentlemen to locate somemusical instrument in that warehouse, and if you find one, experimentwith it. Of course, you will have to be rather clever to find it. In thefirst place, the people putting it there will have it under cover andjust as soon as the mischief is done they will remove it. "

"It is nothing like that, " laughed Professor Wilson, almost in scorn. "These are New York rats. It will take more than a little music to leadthem from their usual haunts. But Rastell and I will start in at once. Give us the address of the buildings and the authority to use them. Howshall we know when the rats are going to come?"

"They will appear within seven days after you stop the racket money. Suppose we adjourn the meeting? I want a few words in private with Mr. Crawford. You other gentlemen can get all the rest of the details frommy secretary. He will arrange your salary and expense account. Goodnight. "

He took Mr. Crawford into his bedroom. 

"Do you really believe that story, Crawford?"

"I positively do. And the people believe it. The Piper walked down theBungen-Strasse and to this day no music is ever played in that street. They even date time in that town from the day the children disappeared. "

"Then, there must be something in it. Suppose we go over to Europe andfind out something about that tune, the tune that drew the rats out ofHamelin?"

 * * * * *

Rastell and Wilson followed out their programme. They went to thegrocery warehouse and made a rat survey. There were a few rodents therebut not many. Then they issued orders that the weekly payment of fivethousand dollars be stopped. After that they spent their nights in thewarehouse. On the fifth night the rats came by the thousands. Theyappeared to be hunting for something, but in the meantime, they ate andsoiled whatever came their way. The local cats fought heroically, butwere soon killed and eaten. The rats came up from the cellar through theelevator shafts, up the steps, through the cracks in the floor, up andup till they started to run around the roof. Then, at four in themorning, they started to leave, running down the steps in closeformation, seemingly panic-stricken at their own temerity and anxiousonly to return to their safe, dark haunts. The two scientists, in theirwire observation cage, closed their note book, opened the door of thecage, and started to make a careful search of the building. It revealednothing but the bones of cats and much spoiled food. 

For the next two days they worked carefully through every part of thebuilding, hunting for something to explain the conduct of the rats. Theyfound nothing. All that they were sure of was the fact that the rats hadbeen there, and that they had not come back. 

The following week they repeated the experiment in the laundry. Thecourse of events was the same. The payment was refused, then the ratscame, devoured and destroyed, stayed a night and left. Nothing wasfound. They decided to go and have a conference with Winifred Willowby, but he could not be located. The two scientists were left to their ownresources. Having no other plausible plan of action, they selected thesmall hotel for their next experiment. This time they set a hundred wiretraps and caught several hundred living rats. These they subjected toevery known experiment, and at the end were forced to acknowledge thatall they had learned left them in ignorance as to why the rats came justfor one night in such enormous numbers. 

Two months later their employer sent for them. It appeared that he hadjust returned from Europe. He listened to their story, smiled kindly attheir perplexity, suggested that they take a vacation and forget aboutrats for a while, paid all their bills, and discharged them. He evenwent so far as to say that he was uninterested in rats, that it had justbeen a passing hobby and that just at present he was working on othermatters. So, he asked them to pass out of his life. But he and CarolCrawford went into the wilds of Pike County and did some experimentingon his own account. 

Meantime, things were going from bad to worse in New York City. The ratracketeers were becoming bolder, and started to reach after larger game. There were rumors that the Pennsylvania Railroad was paying to protectits terminal and that the Interurban was being bled white to keep therats out of the subway. Of course, much of this was rumor and none of itreached the newspapers, but there is no doubt about the fact that eightmillion people were becoming rat-conscious and rat-afraid. It wasgrowing into a worth-while racket, and those behind it were rapidlyacquiring more than riches; they were growing so powerful that they feltable to control the city government. 

More than one business tried to resist and more than one business awoketo find that it owned nothing but ruins. Rat protection was worthlesswhen the enemy came by the hundred thousand and even million. The onlyworth-while defense against the multitudinous enemy was the payment ofthe weekly tribute, small enough each week, but in the course of theyear taking the profits from most of the firms compelled to pay. Withina year the average business in the city was working for the gangstersand content to, at least, be permitted to stay in business. 

Then the racket was transferred to other cities, slowly and on a smallscale at first; then more boldly. Chicago, Philadelphia and Washingtonbegan to feel the pressure. The profits were divided, but always themain share went to New York. For that was where the Big Boys were. Andruling the Big Boys was the Old Man, who was so little known and soseldom seen that his very existence was questioned by some of thesmaller gangsters. No one knew how he had obtained his power, but no onewas brave enough to deny it. The fact remained that he simply ruled;reigned like a Caesar; dictated like a Napoleon. From back-stage hepulled the wires to make his puppets dance. 

It was this man who aroused the interest of Winifred Willowby. In othertimes, in former generations, in far-passed centuries, they might haveruled Rome together, or split it in two ways over their dying bodies. But in 1935 the short sword had been replaced by the ballot box andcivil war by the primary election. Neither man had much that the othercraved for, yet both prevented the other from the full enjoyment oflife. But it was the blue-blooded patrician who at last gave in andsecretly asked for an interview. 

The conference was held on a fallen log on the shore of Porter's Pond inPike County, Pa. Someone said that if Mark Hopkins sat on one end of alog and a student on the other end, it was a University; but, withWillowby on one end of the log and the Old Man on the other, it becamenothing more than a conspiracy against the existence and the very lifeof the nation. 

It was a strange sight, those two opposites on the log. The rich man, alittle over five feet, barely a hundred pounds, with the body of a boyand the face of an angel. At the other end a large man, with the torsoof an ape, and the face of a Titan, a man who had conquered by crushing, ruthlessly and devastatingly, all who had dared to oppose him. The twowere great men, but they were equally lonely. Their very positions asleaders of their respective societies prevented any fraternizing withtheir followers. 

"I do not want to waste your time, Mr. Consuelo, " began Willowby. "Weought to be able to understand each other. You would do nicely if theFederal Government would leave you alone, but it has the peculiarability of annoying you and interfering with your plans. Am I right?"

"Absolutely! Of course, it does not make any real difference--"

"But it does annoy you--investigations of your income tax and deportingyour men now and then?"

"Well, what of it?"

"Simply this. After some years of effort, I am at last able to say thatI control the Government. "

"That is the silly brag of a child, " sneered the Old Man. 

"Not at all, " and as he said that, Willowby reached down and picked up ahandful of pebbles. "See these stones? In the same way I hold in my handa majority of the Supreme Court, over two-thirds of the Senators andmost of the Representatives. I can swing the votes of enough of thestates to pass any kind of legislation I wish. Now here is myproposition. You handle the cities. I will turn over the country to you. Together we will run the nation, and all I want is just one thing--justone little favor from you. "

"I bet I can guess what that is, " laughed the Old Man. 

"No doubt, but let me tell you. I want to be the next President. "

"I thought so. "

"I think we ought to be together on this thing. Perhaps I could beelected without your help, even in spite of your opposition. But if Iam, I will, naturally, try to destroy you. We might end up like theKilkenny cats. But if we are allies, I have eight years of power and youhave eight years of liberty in which to plunder the richest nation inthe world. How about it?"

The Old Man drew a deep breath. 

"Is this on the level?"

"It has to be. I have a reputation, and it is respectable. I am placingmyself in your hands. What is there to prevent you from giving the pressan interview tomorrow?"

"You would deny it!"

"But no one would listen to me. "

"I suppose not. What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to give the order to your leaders. There are a hundred ofthem, perhaps a few more. No doubt my list is not absolutely accurate. Call them in, from Chicago, St. Louis, New Orleans, Boston andPhiladelphia. Have them all in one room. You introduce me. Let me talkto them. I will open the war chest, fifty million to start with, andmore to come. You promise them anything you want, and I will make thepromise good. "

"And you will be there? Right in the room with me?"

"I will be there. "

"I won't do it!" growled the Old Man. "I never have and I never will. Idon't do things that way. A whisper to one or two, and the business isdone, but not a hundred at one time. Some of these boys have never seenme. "

"Then you want to turn me down?"

"Not exactly, but I am opposed to that meeting. "

"Then we are through talking. I will take you to the five-ten train, or, if you want to, I will have my chauffeur drive you to the city. "

"Let's talk it over. "

"No. "

"How about having six of the Big Boys there?"

"No! All on my list or none. "

"Your list?"

"Certainly! I am not sure that it is absolutely correct, but itsatisfies me. "

"Let me see it. "

"No reason why you should not. "

The Old Man took the paper that was handed to him. It was no casualglance, he gave the names. At last he handed it back to the little manwith the casual comment:

"I suppose that is not all you know about my organization?"

"I suppose not. Why not be sensible about this, Mr. Consuelo? If wefight, we will simply kill each other, but if we become allies who canstop us? But I must be sure of you, and the only way I can be sure is tohave you talk to your men, and then let me talk to them. We can have themeeting at night in my offices, you know where, top floor of the EmpireTrust. No one need be any the wiser. Half an hour, and all the men cango back with the money in their pockets and the orders in their brains. "

"O. K. When shall we meet?"

"A month from today at ten P. M. "

"Good. I'll give the orders, but I want the money, the fifty million. Itis not much, but part of it will help keep the Big Boys in line. Some ofthem won't like the idea very much. "

"A little cash will influence them. Now, how about taking you back tothe city?"

 * * * * *

Winifred Willowby made preparations for entertaining his one hundredguests. His largest office was transformed into an assembly room. Itsinch-thick carpets, overstuffed chairs and mahogany trimmings gave it anair of luxuriant comfort. There were special chairs for the Big Boys andtwo very special chairs for the Old Man and the Host of the evening. Alarge picture frame, hanging on one wall, and carefully covered, gave ahint as to part of the evening's ceremony. 

The Empire Trust belonged to Willowby. He had built it so that he couldhave a private office on the top floor, the sixty-third from the ground. The elevator reached this floor, but there were no steps. Many buildingssurpassed it in height, but none in the view that it gave of the city. The guests who arrived first commented on the view and expanded theirchests when they realized that they carried that city in their vestpockets. 

At last every chair was occupied. It was a peculiar gathering. Itincluded judges, politicians, pseudo-business men, several lawyers andeven the Mayor of one of the largest cities in the Mississippi Valley. Facing them, sat the Old Man and Willowby. 

Of the hundred men in the audience not one was at his ease. Most hadcome because they were afraid to stay away. Many hoped that they wouldnot be recognized. The majority doubted the wisdom of such a meeting andfelt that the Old Man was slipping mentally. It was the first time thatmany of them had even seen him. He was almost as much of an unknown tothem as the little man sitting next to him. A peculiar silence hung overthe assembly. More than one man fondled the handle of his automatic. Noone seemed to be sure of what was going to happen next. It was afortunate thing that the meeting was held at night; with the audiencecomposed of such men. A daylight gathering would have been impossible. 

The Old Man and Willowby held a short whispered conference, and then theleader of American Racketeers stood up. What had been silence before, now became the hush of death. The Old Man was going to talk, andeveryone wanted to hear what he had to say. It did not take him long tostart. 

"You Big Boys have been running the cities before, " he growled, "butfrom tonight on we are going to run the country. Congress and theSupreme Court are going to dance to our music and like it. Our newfriend here has promised to deliver the goods, and he does not want muchin return. I have told him that we will trade, and what I say goes. Now, you boys listen to Willowby, and remember that I am back of him. "

Then he sat down. As far as the records are concerned, that was thelongest speech the Old Man made in his life. The Boys hardly knew whatto do; they felt they should applaud, but not being certain remainedquiet. Then Willowby stood up. 

"I do not want very much, gentlemen, " he remarked. "I only want to bethe next President of the United States, and I can be, with your help. Let me show you a picture. "

He walked over to the covered picture, pulled a cord and unveiled it andthere, life size, were the Old Man and Willowby shaking hands. Anyonecould tell who they were and what they were doing. That brought thehouse down. Everybody felt that it was time for a little noise. Some ofthem, who knew the Big Boy well enough, went up and congratulated him onthe new political alliance. In the confusion, Winifred Willowby slippedout of the room and no one noticed his absence. 

But some one did notice the sideboard and started to sample the bottles. Soon everyone was drinking a little. But the Old Man did not drink. Hejust sat there, moodily chewing his cigar and wondering how much of thefifty million he could keep for his share. 

Nobody saw the first rat. It dropped from behind the picture and ranunder a chair. The next rat did the same. Perhaps fifty rats were in theroom before their presence was noticed. By that time they were comingfaster, by the dozen, by the hundred. That was different. One rat in alarge room meant nothing. A hundred, five hundred in the same room couldmean almost anything. 

And now they were literally pouring out from back of the picture. Acursing man pulled it to the floor and there was a large hole in thewall, two feet in diameter, and out of that hole the rats were pouring, big brown, hungry rats, dropping to the floor and starting to hunt forfood. The puzzled men jumped up on top the chairs; the rats stood ontheir hind legs and looked at the large chunks of food with black beady, binoculars. The Old Man just sat there, chewing his cigar and cursing. He knew what it all meant seconds before anyone else. 

A number of the most fearful men made a dash for the elevator. They weredriven back by a torrent of rats climbing up the elevator shaft. Then_fear came--and panic_. With gun and heel, and broken chairs for clubs, they started in to kill rats, and for every one they killed, a hundredfastened to them with chisel teeth. To make it worse, the lights wentout, and they were there in the dark, with mutilation as a beginning anddeath as an ending, and still the rats poured into the room, up theelevator shaft and out of the hole in the wall. 

 * * * * *

The Old Man walked across the room, kicking the struggling bodies of hisfollowers out of his pathway. Rats ran up his legs and tried to bite hishands, his face; he swept them off him as a tiger would wipe ants offhis fur; at last he came to the window. There was the city of New Yorkin front of him, the city of a million twinkling lights, the tomb of abillion dead hopes; the Morgue of a Nation, covered by laughing, paintedfaces. He raised the sash and sat on the sill. 

"Damn Willowby!" he said. "What a fool I was. But I am going to dieclean. No rat is going to send me to Hell!"

And then he dropped. 

In the room the struggle kept on--for an hour and then two. At last thescreaming ceased, and the only sound was the gnawing of the rats, thecrunching of their teeth and their satisfied, little squeaks ofpleasure. 

The next morning Winifred Willowby called on the Chief of the SecretService of New York. With him were several men from Washington. 

"I want to tell you something, " he said. "A large group of men borrowedmy office to have a meeting last night. They wanted privacy and secrecyand they had heard of my place in the Empire Trust Building. So I loanedthem the entire floor for the night. But my janitors tell me thatsomething terrible happened. An army of rats invaded the place, as theyhave been doing with other places in the city, and literally ate everyman there; that is, all except one, a fellow by the name of Consuelo, and he preferred to jump out of a window and die clean on the pavement. "

"Consuelo?" asked the Chief. "Not the Old Man? Not _that_ Consuelo?"

"I think that is the one. Here is a list of the men who were there. Ithought you might like to look it over before you gave it to thepapers. "

The Chief took the list and read it, puzzled. 

"Do you mean these men were there last night?"

"I understand so. "

"And now they are dead?"

"I think so. Of course, that is for the coroner to say. "

"Do you know who these men were?"

"I suppose they were business associates of Consuelo. At least, that iswhat he told me. "

"They were the hundred biggest gangsters in America. They were thebrains of everything vicious in American society. There is not a manthere whom we have not been after for years, but we just couldn't pinanything on them. Their death in one night gives the decent people inour country a new lease on life. We can go ahead now and get the littlefellows. But, tell me, Mr. Willowby, how did it happen?"

"I told you. They had a meeting and the rats came. You know there was arat racket which no one thoroughly understood. Anyway, the ratscame--and killed them. No one can tell exactly what did happen, becauseeveryone who was there was killed. That is all. I am sorry that ithappened in my office--but I thought I was doing the man a favor to loanhim the place for the meeting. "

 * * * * *

That night Crawford and Willowby were talking things over. In rushedRastell and Wilson, brushing the indignant butler aside. 

"We have heard a thousand rumors, " began Rastell, "and read as manyfoolish statements in the papers about the rat tragedy, and we justcouldn't wait a minute longer. You just have to tell us what happened. We are not going to leave you till you do. "

"You tell them, Crawford, " whispered Willowby. "Whenever I talk aboutit, my voice becomes squeaky. "

"It happened this way, " explained Crawford. "After you started to work, Mr. Willowby decided to go over and study the story of the Piper rightin the town of Hamelin. We went there and there was no doubt that thetown people really believed that it really happened. They told us allabout it, and the more we listened and paid them, the more they told. They gave us the very tune the Piper played to make the rats follow him. It was a simple little thing, and we made some phonograph records of it. It seems that when the rats hear that tune, they want to get as close asthey can to the source of the music. Then one old man--he gave us someadditional bars which he claimed drove the rats frantic for blood, andwe made a record of that also. 

"Afterwards we came back to America and went up into Pike County. Not somany rats there but enough to experiment with. We tried the short tuneand the long tune and they worked on the American rats just like theydid on the Hamelin ones. We put two and two together and decided thatthe rat racketeers in New York were using this method of attractingrats. Just put a repeating phonograph in a building and start itplaying, and then the rats would come and eat everything to pieces. Ofcourse, we did not know the psychology of it, but I suppose it hassomething to do with the effect of musical vibrations on the rat'snervous system. 

"Then Mr. Willowby thought that it would be a good idea to make a greatrat trap and attract all the rats in the city to it. He had a good dealof work done in the Empire Trust, and rigged up a phonograph with a lotof loud speakers in different parts of the basement. He ran a lot ofropes down a ventilating shaft for the rats to climb on. I think it washis original idea to have them come up to his office by the millions andthen use some kind of gas on them. At least, he wanted to get rid of therats. Someone must have turned on the phonograph with the entire record. Mr. Willowby left the room, went down the elevator and being somewhatabsent-minded, told the elevator boy that he could go for the night. Ofcourse, he was surprised to hear all about it the next morning. All hewanted to do was to get rid of the rats. "

"Exactly!" purred Mr. Winifred Willowby. 

And he lit another cigarette. 

THE END

FOOTNOTES:

[1] When the magician (the Piper) had led the one hundred and thirtychildren out of the city, two hundred and seventy-two years before thegate was built. 

Transcriber's Note:

 This etext was produced from _Amazing Stories_ April 1956 and was first published in _Amazing Stories_ November 1931. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U. S. Copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.