Old Crompton's Secret - Harl Vincent

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Old Crompton's Secret by Harl Vincent. Two miles west of
the village of Laketon, there lived an aged recluse who
was known only as Old Crompton. As far back as
the villagers could remember, he had visited the town regularly
twice a month, each time tottering his lonely way homeward
with a load of provisions. He appeared to be well
supplied with funds, but purchased sparingly as became a miserly hermit,

(00:23):
and so vicious was his tongue that few cared to
converse with him, even the young hoodlums of the town,
hesitating to harass him with the banter usually accorded the
other bizarre characters of the streets. The oldest inhabitants knew
nothing of his past history, and they had long since
lost their curiosity in the matter. He was a fixture,
as was the old town hall with its surrounding park.

(00:43):
His lonely cabin was shunned by all who chanced to
pass along the old dirt road that led through the
woods to nowhere, and was rarely used. His only extravagance
was in the matter of books, and the village bookstore
profited considerably by his purchases. But at the instigation of
cass Harmon, the bookseller, it was whispered about that Old
Crompton was a believer in the Black Art, that he

(01:04):
had made a pact with the devil himself and was
leagued with him and his imps for the books he
bought were strange ones, ancient volumes that cast must needs
order from New York or Chicago, and that cost as
much as ten and even fifteen dollars a copy translations
of the writings of the alchemists and astrologers and philosophers
of the Dark Ages. It was no wonder Old Crompton

(01:24):
was looked at askance by the simple living and deeply
religious natives of the small Pennsylvania town. But there came
a day when the hermit was to have a neighbor,
and the town buzzed with excited speculation as to what
would happen. The property across the road from Old Crompton's
hut belonged to Alton Forsyth, Laketon's wealthiest resident, hundreds of
acres of scrubby woodland that he considered well nigh worthless.

(01:46):
But Tom Forsyth, the only son had returned from college,
and his ambitions were of a nature strange to his
townspeople and utterly incomprehensible to his father. Something vague about
biology and chemical experiments and the like is what he
spoke of, And when his parents objected on the grounds
of possible explosions and other weird accidents, he prevailed upon
his father to have a secluded laboratory built for him

(02:08):
in the woods. When the workmen started the small frame structure,
not a quarter of a mile from his own hut,
Old Crompton was furious. He raged and stormed, but to
no avail. Tom Forsyth had his heart set on the project,
and he was somewhat of a successful debater himself. The
fire that flashed from his cold gray eyes matched that
from the pale blue ones of the elderly Anchorite, and

(02:29):
the law was on his side. So the building was
completed and Tom Forsyth moved in bag and baggage. For
more than a year, the hermit studiously avoided his neighbor,
though truth to tell, this required very little effort, for
Tom Forsyth became almost as much of a recluse as
his predecessor, remaining indoors for days at a time, and
visiting the home of his people scarcely oftener than Old

(02:50):
Crompton visited the village, He too became the target of
village gossip, and his name was ere long linked with
that of the old man in similar animate version. But
he cared not for the opinions of his townspeople, nor
for the dark looks of suspicion that greeted him on
his rare appearances in the public places. His chosen work
engrossed him so deeply that all else counted for nothing.

(03:11):
His parents remonstrated with him in vain. Tom laughed away
their recriminations and fears, continuing with his labors more strenuously
than ever. He never troubled his mind over the nearness
of Old Crompton's hut, the existence of which he hardly
noticed or considered it. So happened one day that the
old Man's curiosity got the better of him, and Tom
caught him prowling about on his property, peering wonderingly at

(03:32):
the many rabbit hutches, chicken coops, dovecoats and the like
which cluttered the space to the rear of the laboratory.
Seeing that he was discovered, the old man wrinkled his
face into a toothless grin of conciliation. Just looking over
your place for syth, he said, Sorry about the fuss
I made when you built the house, but I am
an old man, you know, and changes are unwelcome. Now

(03:53):
I have forgotten my objections and would like to be friends,
can we? Tom peered searchingly into the flinty eyes that
were set so deeply in the wrinkled, leathery countenance. He
suspected an ulterior motive, but could not find it within
him to turn the old fellow down. Why I guess so, Crompton,
He hesitated. I have nothing against you, but I came

(04:14):
here for seclusion, and I'll not have anyone bothering me
in my work. I'll not bother you, young man. But
I'm fond of pets, and I see you have many
of them here. Guinea pigs, chickens, pigeons and rabbits. Would
you mind if I make friends with some of them?
They're not pets, answered Tom dryly. They are material for
use in my experiments. But you may amuse yourself with

(04:34):
them if you wish. You mean that you cut them up,
kill them, perhaps, not that, But I sometimes change them
in physical form, sometimes cause them to become of huge size,
sometimes produce pigmy offspring of normal animals. Don't They suffer
very seldom, though occasionally a subject dies. But the benefit

(04:54):
that will accrue a mankind is well worth the slight
inconvenience to the dumb creatures and the infrequent loss of
their life lives. Old Crompton regarded him dubiously. You are
trying to find he interrogated, the secret of life. Tom
Forsyth's eize took on the stare of fanaticism. Before I
have finished, I shall know the nature of the vital force,

(05:15):
how to produce it. I shall prolong human life indefinitely,
create artificial life. And the solution is more closely approached
with each passing day. The hermit blinked in pretended mystification,
but he understood perfectly. And he bitterly envied the younger
man's knowledge and ability that enabled him to delve into
the mysteries of nature which had always been so attractive

(05:35):
to his own mind. And somehow he acquired a sudden,
deep hatred of the coolly confident young man who spoke
so positively of accomplishing the impossible. During the winter months
that followed, the strange acquaintance progressed, but Little Tom did
not invite his neighbor to visit him, nor did Old
Crompton go out of his way to impose his presence
on the younger man, though each spoke pleasantly enough to

(05:56):
the other on the few occasions when they happened to
meet the coming of spring, they encountered one another more frequently,
and Tom found considerable of interest in the quaint borrowed
philosophy of the gloomy old man. Old Crompton, of course,
was desperately interested in the things that were hidden in
Tom's laboratory, but he never requested permission to see them.
He hid his real feelings extremely well, and was apparently

(06:18):
content to spend as much time as possible with the
feathered inferred subjects for experiment, being very careful not to
incur Tom's displeasure by displaying too great interest in the
laboratory itself. Then there came a day in early summer
when an accident served to draw the two men closer together,
and Old Crompton's long sought opportunity followed. He was starting
for the village, when from down the road there came

(06:40):
a series of tremendous squawkings, then a bellow of dismay
in the voice of his young neighbor. He turned quickly
and was astonished at the sight of a monstrous rooster,
which had escaped and was headed straight for him, with
head down and wings fluttering wildly. Tom followed close behind,
but was unable to catch the darting monster. And monster
it was, for this rooster stood no less than three

(07:00):
feet in height and appeared more ferocious than a large turkey.
Old Crompton had his shopping bag, a large one of burlap,
which he always carried to town, and he summoned enough
courage to throw it over the head of the screeching,
oversized fowl. So tangled did the panic stricken bird become
that it was a comparatively simple matter to effect his capture,
and the old man rose to his feet, triumphant, with

(07:20):
the bag securely closed over the struggling captive. Thanks, panted
Tom when he drew alongside. I should never have caught him,
and his appearance at large might have caused me a
great deal of trouble. Now, of all times, it's all right,
Forsyth smirked the old man. Glad I was able to
do it secretly, he gloated, for he knew this occurrence
would be in open sesame to that laboratory of Tom's,

(07:43):
and it proved to be just that. A few nights later,
he was awakened by a vigorous thumping at his door,
something that had never before occurred during his nearly sixty
years occupancy of the tumble down hut. The moon was high,
and he cautiously peeped from the window and saw that
his late visitor was none other than young Force. With
you in a minute, he shouted, hastily, thrusting his rheumatic

(08:04):
old limbs into his shabby trousers. Now to see the
inside of that laboratory, he chuckled to himself. It required
but a moment to attire himself in the scanty raiment
he war during the warm months, but he could hear
Tom muttering and impatiently pacing the flagstones before his door.
What is it, he asked, as he drew the bolt
and emerged into the brilliant light of the moon. Success,

(08:26):
breathed Tom, excitedly. I have produced growing living matters synthetically
more than this, I have learned the secret of the
vital force. The spark of life, immortality is within easy reach.
Come and see for yourself. They quickly traversed the short
distance to the two story building which comprised Tom's workshop
and living quarters. The entire ground floor was taken up

(08:46):
by the laboratory, and Old Crompton stared aghast at the
wealth of equipment to contained furnaces. There were and retorts
that reminded him of those pictured in the woodcuts and
some of his musty books. Then there were complicated machines
with many levers and dials mounted on their faces, and
with huge glass bulbs of peculiar shape, with coils of
wire connecting to knob like protuberances of their transparent walls.

(09:09):
In the exact center of the great single room there
was what appeared to be a dissecting table, with a
brilliant light overhead, and with two of the odd glass
bulbs at either end. It was to this table that
Tom led the excited old man. This is my perfected apparatus,
said Tom proudly, and by its use I intend to
create a new race of supermen, men and women who
will always retain the vigor and strength of their youth,

(09:30):
and who cannot die, excepting by actual destruction of their bodies.
Under the influence of the rays, all bodily ailments vanish
as if by magic, and organic defects are quickly corrected.
Watch this now. He stepped to one of the many
cages at the side of the room and returned with
a wriggling cotton tail in his hands. Old Crompton watched
anxiously as he picked a nickeled instrument from a tray

(09:51):
of surgical appliances and requested his visitor to hold the
protesting animal while he covered its head with a handkerchief.
Ethel chloride, explained Tom, noting with amusement, the look of
distaste on the old man's face will just put him
to sleep for a minute while I amputate a leg.
The struggles of the rabbit quickly ceased when the spray
soaked the handkerchief and the anesthetic took effect. With a

(10:13):
shining scalpel and a surgical saw, Tom speedily removed one
of the fore legs of the animal, and then he
placed the limp body in the center of the table,
removing the handkerchief from its head as he did so.
At the end of the table, there was a panel
with its glittering array of switches and electrical instruments, and
Old Crompton observed very closely the manipulations of the controls.
As Tom started the mechanism. With the ensuing hum of

(10:35):
a motor generator from a corner of the room, the
four bulbs adjacent to the table sprang into life, each
glowing with a different color and each emitting a different
vibratory note as it responded to the energy within. Keep
an eye on mister rabbit, now admonished Tom. From the
body of the small animal. There emanated an intangible, though
hazily visible aura. As the combined effects of the rays

(10:55):
grew in intensity. Old Crompton bent over the table and
peered amazedly at the stump of the fore leg, from
which blood no longer dripped. The stump was healing over. Yes,
it seemed to elongate as one watched. A new limb
was growing on to replace the old. Then the animal
struggled once more, this time to regain consciousness. In a
moment it was fully awake, and with a frightened hop,

(11:17):
was off the table and hobbling about in search of
a hiding place. Tom Forsyth laughed. Never knew what happened,
he exulted, And excepting for the temporary limp, is not
inconvenienced at all, even that will be gone in a
couple of hours, for the new limb will be completely
grown by that time. But but Tom stammered the old man,
this is wonderful. How do you accomplish it? Ah, don't

(11:40):
think I'll reveal my secret, but this much I will
tell you. The life force generated by my apparatus stimulates
a certain gland that's normally inactive in warm blooded animals.
This gland, when active, possesses the function of growing new
members to the body to replace lost ones, in much
the same manner as this is done in the case
of the lobster. In certain other crustaceans. Of course, the
process is extremely rapid when the gland is stimulated by

(12:03):
the vital rays from my tubes. But this is only
one of the many wonders of the process. Here is
something far more remarkable. He took from a large glass
jar the body of a guinea pig, a body that
was rigid in death. This guinea pig, he explained, was
suffocated twenty four hours ago, and is stone dead suffocated? Yes,
but quite painlessly, I assure you. I merely removed the

(12:26):
air from the jar with a vacuum pump, and the
little creature passed out of the picture very quickly. Now
we'll revive it. Old Crompton stretched forth a skinny hand
to touch the dead animal, but withdrew it hastily when
he felt the clammy rigidity of the body. There was
no doubt as to the lifelessness of this specimen. Tom
placed the dead guinea pig on the spot where the

(12:46):
rabbit had been subjected to the action of the rays. Again,
his visitor watched carefully as he manipulated the controls of
the apparatus. With the glow of the tubes and the
ensuing haze of eerie light that surrounded the little body,
a marked change was apparent. The inanimate form relaxed suddenly,
and it seemed that the muscles pulsated with an accession
of energy. Then one leg was stretched forth spasmodically. There

(13:09):
was a convulsive heave as the lungs drew in a
first long breath, and with that an astonished and very
much alive rodents scrambled to its feet. Blinking, wondering eyes
in the dazzling light. See see shouted Tom, grasping Old
Crompton by the arm in a vice like grip. It
is a secret of life and death. Aristocrats, plutocrats and
beggars will beat a path to my door, But never fear.

(13:32):
I shall choose my subjects well. The name of Thomas
Forsyth will yet be emblazoned in the hall of fame.
I shall be master of the world. Old Crompton began
to fear the glitter in the eyes of the gaunt
young man who seemed suddenly to have become demented, and
his envy and hatred of his talented host blazed anew
As Forsyth gloried in the success of his efforts, then

(13:53):
he was struck with an idea, and he affected his
most ingratiating manner. It is a marvelous thing, Tom, he said,
and is entirely beyond my poor comprehension. But I can
see that it is all you say, and more tell me,
can you restore the youth of an aged person by
these means? Positively? Tom did not catch the eager note

(14:14):
in the old man's voice. Rather, he took the question
as an inquiry into the further marvels of his process. Here,
he continued enthusiastically, I'll prove that to you. Also. My
dog's spot is around the place somewhere, and he's a
decrepit old hound, blind, lame and toothless. You've probably seen
him with me. He rushed to the stairs and whistled.
There was an answering yelp from above, and the pad

(14:36):
of uncertain paws on the bare wooden steps. A dejected
old beagle blundered into the room, dragging a crippled hind
leg as he fawned upon his master, who stretched forth
a hand to pat the unsteady head. Guess Spot is
old enough for the test, laughed Tom. And I've been
meaning to restore him to his youthful vigor anyway, No
time like the present. He led his trembling pet to

(14:57):
the table of the remarkable tubes and lifted him to
its surface. The poor old beast lay trustingly where he
was placed, quiet save for his husky asthmatic breathing hold him.
Crompton directed Tom as he pulled the starting lever of
his apparatus, and Old Crompton watched in fascinated anticipation as
the ethereal luminosity bathed the dog's body in response to

(15:18):
the action of the four rays. Somewhat vaguely, it came
to him that the baggy flesh of his own wrinkled
hands took on a new firmness and color where they
reposed on the animal's back. Young Forsyth grinned triumphantly as
Spot's breathing became more regular and the rasp gradually left it.
Then the dog whined in pleasure and wagged his tail
with increasing vigor. Suddenly he raised his head, perked his

(15:40):
ears in astonishment, and looked his master straight in the
face with eyes that saw once more. The low throat
cry rose to a full and joyous bark. He sprang
to his feet from under the restraining hands and jumped
to the floor in a lithe muscled leap that carried
him half way across the room. He capered about with
the abandon of a puppy, making extremely active use of
four sound limbs. Why why, forsythe stammered the hermit. It's

(16:04):
absolutely incredible. Tell me, tell me what is this remarkable force?
His host laughed gleefully. You probably wouldn't understand it anyway,
But I'll tell you it is as simple as the
nose on your face. The spark of life, the vital force,
is merely an extremely complicated electrical manifestation which I have
been able to duplicate artificially. This spark or force is

(16:27):
all that distinguishes living from inanimate matter and in living beings.
The force gradually decreases in power as the years pass,
causing loss of health and strength. The chemical composition of
bones and tissue alters. Joints become stiff, muscles atrophied, and
bones brittle. By recharging, as it were, with the vital force,
the gland action is intensified, youth and strength is renewed.

(16:49):
By repeating the process every ten or fifteen years, the
same degree of vigor can be maintained indefinitely. Mankind will
become immortal. That is why I say I am to
be master of the world. For the moment, Old Crompton
forgot his jealous hatred in the enthusiasm with which he
was imbued Tom Tom. He pleaded, in his excitement, use
me as a subject, renew my youth. My life has

(17:11):
been a sad one and a lonely one. But I
would that I might live it over. I should make
of it a far different one, something worth while. See,
I'm ready. He sat on the edge of the gleaming
table and made as if to lie down on its
gleaming surface, But his young host only stared at him
in open amusement. What you, he sneered, unfeelingly, Why you,

(17:31):
old fossil? I told you I would choose my subjects carefully.
They are to be people of standing in wealth, who
can contribute to the fame and fortune of one Thomas
forsythe But Tom, I have money, old Crompton begged. But
when he saw the hard mirth in the younger man's eyes,
his old animosity flamed anew, and he sprang from his
position and shook a skinny forefinger in Tom's face. Don't

(17:54):
do that to me, you old fool, shouted Tom, And
get out of here. Think I'd waste current on an
old cadger like you, I guess not. Now get out,
get out, I say. Then the old anchorite saw red.
Something seemed to snap in his soured old brain. He
found himself kicking and biting and punching at his host,
who backed away from the furious onslaught in surprise. Then

(18:16):
Tom tripped over a wire and fell to the floor
with a force that rattled the windows, his ferocious little
adversary on top. The younger man lay still where he
had fallen, a trickle of blood showing at his temple.
My god, I've killed him, gasped the old man with
trembling fingers. He opened to Tom's shirt and listened for
his heart beats. Panic stricken, he rubbed the young man's wrists,

(18:38):
slapped his cheeks, and ran for water to dash in
his face, but all efforts to revive him proved futile,
and then, in awful fear, Old Crompton dashed into the night,
the dog's spot, snapping at his heels as he ran.
Hours later, the stooped figure of a shabby old man
might have been seen stealthily re entering the lonely workshop,
where the lights still burned brightly. Tom Forsyth lay rigid

(19:01):
in the position in which Old Crompton had left him,
and the dog growled menacingly. Averting his gaze encircling wide
of the body, Old Crompton made for the table of
the marvelous rays. In minute detail, he recalled every move
made by Tom in starting and adjusting the apparatus to
produce the incredible results he had witnessed. Not a moment
was to be wasted now already he had hesitated too long,

(19:23):
for soon would come the dawn and possible discovery of
his crime. But the invention of his victim would save
him from the long arm of the law. For with
youth restored, Old Crompton would cease to exist, and a
new life would open its doors to the starved soul
of the hermit. Hermit Indeed, he would begin life anew,
an active man with youthful vigor and ambition. Under an

(19:44):
assumed name. He would travel abroad, would enjoy life, and
would later become a successful man of affairs. He had
enough money, he told himself, and the police would never
find Old Crompton the murderer of Tom Forsyth. He deposited
his small traveling bag on the floor and fingers the
controls of Tom's apparatus. He threw the starting switch confidently
and grinned in satisfaction as the answering whine of the

(20:07):
motor generator came to his ears. One by one. He
carefully made the adjustments and exactly the manner, followed by
the now silence discoverer of the process. Everything operated precisely
as it had during the preceding experiments. Odd that he
should have anticipated some such necessity, but something had told
him to observe Tom's movements carefully, and now he rejoiced

(20:27):
in the fact that his intuition had led him aright. Painfully,
he climbed to the table top and stretched his aching
body in the warm light of the four huge tubes.
His exertions during the struggle with Tom were beginning to
tell on him, but the soreness and stiffness of feeble
muscles and stubborn joints would soon be but a memory.
His pulses quickened at the thought, and he breathed deep

(20:48):
in a sudden feeling of unaccustomed well being. The dog
growled continuously from his position at the head of his master,
but did not move to interfere with the intruder and
old Crompton, and the excitement of the momentous experience paid
him not the slightest attention. His body tingled from head
to foot with a not unpleasant sensation that conveyed the
assurance of radical changes taking place under the influence of

(21:11):
the vital rays. The tingling sensation increased in intensity, until
it seemed that every corpuscle in his veins danced to
the tune of a vibration from those glowing tubes that
bathed him in an ever spreading radiance. Aches and pains
vanished from his body, but he soon experienced a sharp
stab of new pain in his lower jaw. With an
experimental forefinger, he rubbed the gum. He laughed aloud as

(21:34):
the realization came to him that in those gums, where
there had been no teeth for more than twenty years,
there was now growing a complete new set, and the
rapidity of the process amazed him beyond measure. The aching
area spread quickly and was becoming really uncomfortable. But then
and he consoled himself with the thought, nothing is brought
into being without a certain amount of pain. Besides, he

(21:55):
was confident that his discomfort would soon be over. He
examined his hand and found them the joints of two fingers,
long crippled with rheumatism, now moved freely and painlessly. The
misty brilliance surrounding his body was paling, and he saw
that the flesh was taking on a faint green fluorescence instead.
The rays had completed their work, and soon the transformation
would be fully effected. He turned on his side and

(22:17):
slipped to the floor with the agility of a youngster.
The dog snarled anew, but kept steadfastly to his position.
There was a small mirror over the washstand at the
far end of the room, and old Crompton made haste
to obtain the first view of his reflected image. His
step was firm and springy, his bearing confident, and he
found that his long stooped shoulders straightened naturally and easily.

(22:39):
He felt that he had taken on at least two
inches in stature, which was indeed the case. When he
reached the mirror, he peered anxiously into its dingy surface,
and what he saw there so startled him that he
stepped backward in amazement. This was not Larry Crompton, but
an entirely new man. The straggly white hair had given
way to soft, healthy waves of chestnut hue. Gone were

(23:00):
the seams from the leathery countenance, and the eyes looked
out clearly and steadily from under brows, as thick and
dark as they had been in his youth. The reflected
features were those of an entire stranger. They were not
even reminiscent of the Larry Crompton of fifty years ago,
but were the features of a far more vigorous and
prepossessing individual than he had ever seemed, even in the
best years of his life. The jaw was firm, the

(23:22):
once sunken cheeks so well filled out that his high
cheek bones were no longer in evidence. It was the
face of a man of not more than thirty eight
years of age, reflecting exceptional intelligence and strength of character.
What a disguise, he exclaimed in delight, and his voice,
echoing in the stillness that followed the switching off of
the apparatus, was deep throated and mellow, the voice of

(23:44):
a new man. Now serenely confident that discovery was impossible,
he picked up his small but heavy bag and started
for the door. Dawn was breaking, and he wished to
put as many miles between himself and Tom's laboratory as
could be covered in the next few hours. But at
the door he hesitated. Then, despite the furious yapping of spot,
he returned to the table of the rays, and with

(24:05):
deliberate thoroughness smashed the costly tubes which had brought about
his rehabilitation. With a pinch bar from a nearby tool rack,
he wrecked the controls and generating mechanisms beyond recognition. Now
he was absolutely secure. No meddling experts could possibly discover
the secret of Tom's invention. All evidence would show that
the young experimenter had met his death at the hands

(24:26):
of Old Crompton, the despised hermit of West Laketon. But
none would dream that the handsome man of means, who
was henceforth to be known as George Voyt, was that
same despised hermit. He recovered his satchel and left the
scene with long rapid strides. He proceeded down the old
dirt road toward the main highway, where instead of turning
east into the village, he would turn west and walk

(24:46):
to Kernsburg, the neighboring town. There, in not more than
two hours time, his new life would really begin. Had
you a visitor departed from Laketon when Old Crompton did,
and returned twelve years later, he would have noticed very
little difference in the appearance of the village. The old
town hall and the little park were the same, the
dingy brick building among the trees being just a little dingier,

(25:08):
and its wooden steps more worn and sagged. The main
street showed evidence of recent repaving, and, in consequence of
the resulting increase in through automobile traffic, there were two
new gasoline filling stations in the heart of the town.
Down the road about a half mile there was a
new building, which, upon inquiring from one of the natives,
would be proudly designated as the new high school building. Otherwise,

(25:29):
there were no changes to be observed in his dilapidated
chair in the untidy office he had occupied for nearly
thirty years. Sat Asa Culkin, popularly known as Judge Culkan,
Justice of the Peace, sheriff, attorney at law, and three
times Mayor of Laketon. He was still a controlling factor
in local politics and government, and many a knot illegal
problem was settled in that gloomy little office. Many a

(25:52):
dispute in the town council was dependent for arbitration upon
the keen mind and understanding wit of the old Judge.
The four o'clock train had just puffed its labored way
from the station when a stranger entered his office. A
stranger of uncommonly prosperous air. The keen blue eyes of
the old attorney appraised him instantly and classified him as
a successful man of business, not yet forty years of

(26:13):
age and with a weighty problem on his mind. What
can I do for you, sir, he asked, removing his
feet from the battered desktop. You may be able to
help me a great deal, judge, was the unexpected reply.
I came to Laketon to give myself up. Give yourself up.
Culkan rose to his feet in surprise and unconsciously straightened
his shoulders in the effort to seem less dwarfed before

(26:35):
the tall stranger. Why what do you mean, he inquired?
I wish to give myself up for murder, answered the
amazing visitor, slowly, and with decision for a murder committed
twelve years ago. I should like you to listen to
my story first, though it has been kept too long.
But I still do not understand. There was puzzlement in
the honest old face of the attorney. He shook his

(26:57):
gray locks in uncertainty. Why shou shoud you come here?
Why come to me? What possible interest can I have
in the matter? Just this Judge, you do not recognize
me now, and you will probably consider my story incredible
when you hear it. But when I have given you
all the evidence, you will know who I am and
will be compelled to believe the murder was committed in Laketon.

(27:17):
That is why I came to you. A murder in
Laketon twelve years ago. Again, the aged attorney shook his head,
but proceed, Yes, I killed Thomas Forsyth. The stranger looked
for an expression of horror in the features of his listener,
but there was none. Instead, the benign countenance took on
a look of deepening amazement, but the smile wrinkles had

(27:40):
somehow vanished, and the old face was grave in its
surprised interest. You seem astonished, continued the stranger. Undoubtedly, you
are convinced that the murderer was Larry Crompton, Old Crompton,
the hermit. He disappeared the night of the crime and
has never been heard from since. Am I correct? Yes,
he disappeared, all right. But continue Not by a lift

(28:01):
of his eyebrow did Culkan betray his disbelief. But the
stranger sense that his story was somehow not as startling
as it should have been. You will think me crazy,
I presume, But I am Old Crompton. It was my
hand that felled the unfortunate young man in his laboratory
out there in West Laketon twelve years ago to night.
It was his marvelous invention that transformed the old hermit

(28:21):
into the apparently young man you see before you. But
I swear that I am none other than Larry Crompton,
and that I killed young Forsyth. I am ready to
pay the penalty. I can bear the flagellation of my
own conscience no longer. The visitor's voice had risen to
the point of hysteria, but his listener remained calm and unmoved.
Now just let me get this straight, he said quietly.

(28:44):
Do I understand that you claimed to be Old Crompton
rejuvenated in some mysterious manner, and that you killed Tom
Forsyth on that night twelve years ago? Do I understand
that you wish now to go to trial for that
crime and to pay the penalty. Yes? Yes, And the
sooner the better I can stand it. No longer. I
am the most miserable man in the world. Hm M

(29:04):
muttered the judge. This is strange, he spoke soothingly to
his visitor. Do not upset yourself. I beg of you.
I will take care of this thing for you. Never fear.
Just take a seat, mister er. You may call me
Voight for the present, said the stranger in a more
composed tone of voice. George Voight. That is the name
I have been using since the Mr since that fatal night.

(29:28):
Very well, mister Voight, replied the councilor, with an air
of the greatest solicitude. Please have a seat now while
I make a telephone call. And George Voight slipped into
a stiff backed chair with a sigh of relief, for
he knew the judge from the old days, and he
was now certain that his case would be disposed of
very quickly. With the telephone receiver pressed to his ear,
Culkin repeated a number. The stranger listened intently during the

(29:51):
ensuing silence. Then there came a muffled hello, sounding an
impatient response to the call. Hello Elton, spoke the attorney.
This is z Asa speaking. A stranger has just stepped
into my office and he claims to be Old Crompton.
Remember the hermit across the road from your son's old laboratory. Well,
this man, who bears no resemblance whatever to the old
man he claims to be, and who seems to be

(30:13):
less than half the age of Tom's old neighbor, says
that he killed Tom on that night we remember so well.
There were some surprised remarks from the other end of
the wire, but Voight was unable to catch them. He
was in a cold perspiration at the thought of meeting
his victim's father. Why yes, Alton continued Culkan, I think
there is something in this story, although I cannot believe
at all, But I wish you would accompany us and

(30:35):
visit the laboratory, will you, lord man? Not that, interrupted
the judge's visitor. I can hardly bear to visit the
scene of my crime and in the company of Alton Forsyth.
Please not that now. You just let me take care
of this young man, replied the judge testily, then once
more speaking into the mouthpiece of the telephone. All right, Alton,

(30:55):
we'll pick you up at your office in five minutes.
He replaced the receiver on its hook and turned again
to his visitor. Please be so kind as to do
exactly as I request. He said, I want to help you,
but there is more to this thing than you know,
and I want you to follow unquestioningly where I lead,
and ask no questions at all. For the present things
may turn out differently than you expect, all right, Judge,

(31:18):
the visitor resigned himself to whatever might transpire under the
guidance of the man he had called upon to turn
him over to the officers of the law. Seated in
the judge's ancient motor car, they stopped at the office
of Alton Forsyth a few minutes later and were joined
by that red faced and pompous old man. Few words
were spoken during the short run to the well remembered
location of Tom's laboratory, and the man, who is known

(31:41):
as George Voight caught at his own throat with nervous fingers.
When they passed the tumble down remains of the hut
in which old Crompton had spent so many years. With
a screeching of well worn brakes, the car stopped before
the laboratory, which was now almost hidden behind a mass
of shrubs and flowers. Easy now, young man, cautioned the judge,
noting the look of fear which had clouded his new

(32:01):
client's features. The three men advanced to the door through
which Old Crompton had fled on that night of horror
twelve years before. The elder Forsyth spoke not a word
as he turned the knob and stepped within. Voice shrank
from entering, but soon mastered his feelings and followed the
other two. The sight that met his eyes caused him
to cry aloud in awe at the dissecting table, which

(32:23):
seemed to be exactly as he had seen at last,
but with replicas of the tubes he had destroyed once more.
In place stood Tom Forsyth, considerably older and with hair
prematurely gray, he was still the young man Old Crompton
thought he had killed. Tom Forsyth was not dead after all,
and all of his years of misery had gone for nothing.
He advanced slowly to the side of the wondering young

(32:44):
man out in Forsyth and Asa Culkin, watching silently from
just inside the door. Tom Tom spoke the stranger, you
are alive. You are not dead when I left you
on that terrible night, when I smashed your precious tubes.
Oh it is too good to be true. I can
scarcely believe my eyes. He stretched forth, trembling fingers, to
touch the body of the young man, to assure himself

(33:07):
that it was not all a dream. Why, said Tom Forsyth,
in astonishment. I do not know you, sir, never saw
you in my life. What do you mean by your
talk of smashing my tubes, of leaving me for dead? Mean?
The stranger's voice rose now he was growing excited. Why Tom,
I am old Crompton. Remember the struggle here in this

(33:27):
very room. You refuse to rejuvenate an unhappy old man
with your marvelous apparatus, A temporarily insane old man Crompton.
I was that old man, and I fought with you.
You fell, striking your head. There was blood. You were unconscious. Yes,
for many hours I was sure you were dead, and
that I had murdered you. But I had watched your
manipulations of the apparatus, and I subjected myself to the

(33:48):
action of the rays. My youth was miraculously restored. I
became as you see me now. Detection was impossible, for
I looked no more like old Crompton than you do.
I smashed your machinery to avoid suspicion. Then I escaped,
and for twelve years, I have thought myself a murderer.
I have suffered the tortures of the damned. Tom Forsyth

(34:09):
advanced on this remarkable visitor with clenched fists, staring him
in the eyes with cold appraisal. His wrath was all
too apparent. The dog's spot, young as ever, entered the room, and,
upon observing the stranger, set up an ominous growling and snarling.
At least the dog recognized him. What are you trying
to do? Catechise me? Are you another of these alienists

(34:30):
my father has been bringing around? The young inventor was furious.
If you are, he continued, you can get out of
here now. I'll have no more of this meddling with
my affairs. I am as sane as any of you,
and I refuse to submit to this continual persecution. The
elder Forsyth grunted and culkan laid a restraining hand on
his arm. Just a minute now, Tom, he said, soothingly,

(34:51):
this stranger is no alienist. He has a story to tell.
Please permit him to finish. Somewhat mollified, Tom Forsyth shrugged
his assent. Tom continued the stranger more calmly. Now, what
I have said is the truth. I shall prove it
to you. I'll tell you things no mortals on earth
could know. But we two. Remember the day I captured
the big rooster for you, the monster you had created.

(35:14):
Remember the night you awakened me and brought me here
in the moonlight. Remember the rabbit whose leg you amputated
and regrew, The poor guinea pig you had suffocated, and
whose life you restored spot here. Don't you remember rejuvenating him.
I was here, and you refused to use your process
on me, old man that I was. That is when
I went mad and attacked you. Do you believe me, Tom?

(35:37):
Then a strange thing happened. While Tom Forsyth gazed in
growing belief, the Stranger's shoulders sagged and he trembled, as
with the egg you. The two older men who had
kept in the background gasped their astonishment as his hair
faded to a sickly gray, then became as white as
the driven snow. Old Crompton was reverting to his previous state.
Within five minutes, Instead of the handsome young stranger stood

(36:00):
before them, a bent, withered old man, Old Crompton beyond
a doubt the effects of Tom's process were spent. Well,
I'm damned ejaculated, Alton Forsyth. You've been right all along, Esa,
and I am mighty glad I did not commit Tom
as I intended. He has told us the truth all
these years, and we were not wise enough to see it,
we exclaimed the judge. You, Alton Forsyth, I have always

(36:24):
upheld him. You have done your son a grave injustice,
and you owe him your apologies. If ever a father
owed his son anything, you are right AESA, and his
aristocratic pride forgotten. Alton Forsyth rushed to the side of
his son and embraced him. The judge turned to Old
Crompton pityingly. Rather a bad ending for you, Crompton, he said. Still,

(36:44):
it is better by far than being branded as a murderer.
Better better, croaked Old Crompton, It is wonderful, Judge. I've
never been so happy in my life. The face of
the old man beamed, though scalding tears coursed down the
withered and seamed cheeks. The two Forsyths looked up from
their demonstrations of peacemaking to listen to the amazing words

(37:04):
of the old hermit. Yes, happy for the first time
in my life, he continued, I am one hundred years
of age, gentlemen, and I now look it and feel it.
That is as it should be. And my experience has
taught me a final lasting lesson. None of you know it.
But when I was but a very young man, I
was bitterly disappointed in love. Haha. Never think it to

(37:25):
look at me, now, would you. But I was, and
it ruined my entire life. I had a little money inherited,
and I traveled about in the world for a few years,
then settled in that old hut across the road, where
I buried myself for sixty years, becoming crabbed and sour
and despicable. Young Tom here was the first bright spot,
And though I admired him, I hated him for his opportunities,

(37:47):
hated him for that which he had that I had not.
With the promise of his invention, I thought I saw happiness,
a new life for myself. I got what I wanted,
though not in the way I had expected. And I
want to tell you, gentlemen, that there is nothing in it.
With developments of modern science, you may be able to
restore a man's youthful vigor of body, but you can't
cure his mind with electricity. Though I had a youthful body,

(38:09):
my brain was the brain of an old man. Memories
were there which could not be suppressed. Even had I
not had the fancied death of young Tom on my conscience,
I should still have been miserable. I worked, God how
I worked to forget, but I could not forget. I
was successful in business and made a lot of money.
I am more independent, probably wealthier than you, Alton Forsyth,

(38:29):
but that did not bring happiness. I longed to be
myself once more, to have the aches and pains which
had been taken from me. It is natural to age
and to die. Immortality would make of us a people
of restless misery. We would quarrel and bicker and long
for death, which would not come to relieve us. Now
it is over for me, and I am glad, glad, glad.

(38:50):
He paused for breath, looking beseechingly at Tom Forsyth. Tom,
he said, I suppose you have nothing for me in
your heart but hatred. And I don't blame you, but
I wish, wish, I wish you would try and forgive me.
Can you The years had brought increased understanding intolerance to
young Tom. He stared at old Crompton, and the long
nursed anger over the destruction of his equipment melted into

(39:12):
a strange mixture of pity and admiration for the courageous
old fellow. Why I guess I can, Crompton, he replied,
There was many a day when I struggled hopelessly to
reconstruct my apparatus, cursing you with every bit of energy
in my make up. I could cheerfully have throttled you
had you been within reach. For twelve years, I have
labored incessantly to reproduce the results we obtained on the

(39:34):
night of which you speak. People called me insane. Even
my father wished to have me committed to an asylum,
and until now I have been unsuccessful. Only today, as
it seemed for the first time that the experiments will
again succeed. But my ideas have changed with regard to
the uses of the process. I was a cock sure
young pup in the old days, with foolish dreams of

(39:54):
fame and influence. But I have seen the error of
my ways. Your experience, too, convinces me that immortality may
not be as desirable as I thought, But there are
great possibilities in the way of relieving the sufferings of mankind,
and in making this a better world in which to live.
With your advice and help, I believe I can do
great things. I now forgive you freely, and I ask

(40:15):
you to remain here with me to assist in the
work that is to come. What do you say to
the idea? At the reverent thankfulness in the pale eyes
of the broken old man, who had so recently been
a perfect specimen of vigorous health out in Forsyth, blew
his nose noisily. The little judge smiled benevolently and shook
his head as if to say, I told you so, Tom,

(40:35):
And Old Crompton gripped hands mightily. End of Old Crompton's
Secret