"Juice give out," explained the motorman.
McCarthy clambered aboard and sat down in a comfortably filled car. Up and down the perspective of the street could be seen other cars, also stalled.
Ten minutes slipped by; then Malachi McCarthy grew impatient. With a muttered growl he rose, elbowed his way through the strap-hangers, and stepped to the street. A row of idle taxicabs stood in front of the Atlas Building. Into the first of these bounced McCarthy, throwing his address to the expectant chauffeur.
The man hopped down from his box, threw on the coil switch and ran to the front. He turned the engine over the compression, but no explosion followed. He repeated the effort a dozen times. Then, grasping the starting handle with a firmer grip, he "whirled" the engine--without result.
"What"s the matter? Can"t you make her go?" demanded McCarthy, thrusting his head from the door.
"Will you please listen, sir, and see if you hear a buzz when I turn her over?" requested the chauffeur.
"I don"t hear nothing," was the verdict.
"I"m sorry, but you"ll have to take another cab," then said the man. "My coil"s gone back on me."
McCarthy impatiently descended, entered the next taxi in line, and repeated the same experience. By now the other chauffeurs, noticing the predicament of their brethren, were anxiously and perspiringly at work.
Not an engine answered the call of the road! A pa.s.sing truck driver, grinning from ear to ear, drove slowly down the line, dealing out the ancient jests rescued for the occasion from an oblivion to which the perfection of the automobile had consigned them.
McCarthy added his mite; he was beginning to feel himself the victim of a series of nagging impertinences, which he resented after his kind.
"If," said he, "your company would put out something on the street besides a bunch of retired grist-mills with clock dials. .h.i.tched on to them, you might be able to give the public some service. I"ve got lots of time.
Don"t hurry through your afternoon exercise on my account. Just buy a lawn-mower and a chatelaine watch apiece--you"d do just as well."
By now every man had his battery box open, McCarthy left them, puzzling over the singular failure of the electrical apparatus, which is the nervous system of the modern automobile.
He turned into Fifth Avenue. An astonishing sight met his eyes.
The old days had returned. The center of the long roadway, down which ordinarily a long file of the purring monsters of gasoline creep and dash, shouldering aside the few hansoms and victorias remaining from a bygone age, now showed but a swinging slashing trot of horses.
Hansoms, hacks, broughams; up-raised whips, whirling in signal; the spat spat of horses" hoofs; all the obsolescent vehicles that ordinarily doze in hope along the stands of the side streets; it was a gay sight of the past raised again for the moment to reality by the same mysterious blight that had shadowed the Atlas Building the night before.
Along the curbs, where they had been handpushed under direction from the traffic squad, stood an unbroken line of automobiles. And the hood of each was raised for the eager tinkering of its chauffeur. Past them streamed the horses, and the faces of their drivers were illumined by broad grins.
McCarthy looked about him for a hansom. There was none unengaged. In fact, the boss soon determined that many others, like himself, were waiting for a chance at the first vacant one. Reluctantly he made up his mind to walk.
He glanced up at the tower of the Metropolitan Building; then stared in astonishment. The hands of the great dial were still perpendicular--the hour indicated was still six o"clock!
CHAPTER IV
DARKNESS AND PANIC
Probably the only men in the whole of New York who accepted promptly and unquestioningly the fact that the entire electrical apparatus of the city was paralyzed were those in the newspaper offices. These capable citizens, accustomed to quick adaptations to new environments and to wide reaches of the imagination, made two or three experiments, and accepted the inevitable.
Within ten minutes the _Despatch_ had messenger boys on tap instead of bells, bicycles instead of telephones, and a variety of lamps and candles in place of electricity. Everybody else in town was speculating why in blazes this visitation had struck them. The _Despatch_ was out after news.
Marsden, city editor, detailed three men to dig up expert opinion on _why_ it had all happened.
"And if the scientific men haven"t any other notions, ask "em if it"s anything to do with the earth pa.s.sing through the tail of the comet," he told them.
The rest of the staff he turned out for stories of the effects. His imagination was struck by the contemplation of a modern civilized city deprived of its nerve system.
"Hunt up the little stuff," said he; "the big stuff will hunt you up--if you scatter."
After covering the usual police-station, theater and hotel a.s.signments, he sent Hallowell to the bridge; Longman to the Grand Central; Kennedy, Warren and Thomas to the tubes, subways and ferries. The others he told to go out on the streets.
They saw a city of four million people stopped short on its way home to dinner! They saw a city, miles in extent, set back without preparation to a communication by messenger only! They saw a city, unprepared, blinking its way by the inadequate illuminations of a half-century gone by!
Hallowell found a packed ma.s.s of humanity at the bridge. Where ordinarily is a crush, even with incessant outgoing trains sucking away at the surplus, now was a panic--a panic the more terrible in that it was solid, sullen, inert, motionless. Women fainted, and stood unconscious, erect.
Men sank slowly from sight, agonized, their faces contorted, but unheard in the dull roar of the crowd, and were seen no more. Around the edges people fought frantically to get out; and others, with the blind, unreasoning, home instinct, fought as hard to get in.
The police were unavailing. They could not penetrate to break the center.
Across the bridge streamed a procession of bruised and battered humanity, escaped from or cast forth by the maelstrom. The daylight was fading, and within the sheds men could not see one another"s faces.
Longman at the Grand Central observed a large and curious crowd that filled the building and packed the streets round about. They waited for their trains, and the twilight gathered. For ten minutes trains continued to enter the shed. This puzzled Longman until he remembered that gravity would bring in those this side of Harlem. None went out. The waiting throng was a hotbed for rumors. Longman collected much human-interest stuff, and was quite well satisfied with his story--until he saw what it had meant elsewhere.
For in the subways and tubes the stoppage of the trains had automatically discontinued the suction ventilation. The underground thousands, in mortal terror of the non-existent third-rail danger, groped their way painfully to the stations. With inconceivable swiftness the mephitic vapors gathered. Strong men staggered fainting into the streets. When revived they told dreadful tales of stumbling over windrows of bodies there below.
Through the gathering twilight of the streets, dusky and shadowy, flitted bat-like the criminals of the underworld. What they saw, that they took. Growing bolder, they progressed from pocket-picking to holdups, from holdups to looting. The police reserves were all out; they could do little. Favored by obscurity, the thieves plundered. It would have needed a solid cordon of officers to have protected adequately the retail district. Swiftly a guerrilla warfare sprang up.
Bullets whistled. Anarchy raised its snaky locks and peered red-eyed through the darkened streets of the city.
Here and there fire broke out. Men on bicycles brought in the alarms; then, as twilight thickened, men on foot. Chief Croker promptly established lookouts in all the tall towers, as watchmen used a hundred years ago to watch the night.
And, up-town, Smith cursed the necessity of reading his evening paper by candle-light; and Mary, the cook, grumbled because she could not telephone the grocery for some forgotten ingredient; and Jones" dinner party was very hilarious over the joke on their host; and men swore and their wives worried because they had perforce to be very late to dinner.
At eight o"clock, two hours after the inception of the curious phenomena, the condition suddenly pa.s.sed. The intimation came to the various parts of the city in different ways. Strangely enough, only gradually did the lights and transportation facilities resume their functions. Most of the dynamos were being inspected by puzzled experts. Here and there the blazing of a group of lights, the ringing of a bell, the response of a volt or ammeter to test, hinted to the masters of the lightnings that their rebellious steeds again answered the bit.
Within a half-hour the city"s illuminations again reflected softly from the haze of the autumn sky; the clang of the merry trolley, the wail of the motor"s siren again smote the air.
Malachi McCarthy, having caught a ride on a friendly dray, arrived home.
At eight ten his telephone bell for the first time jangled its summons.
McCarthy answered it.
"I"m Simmons, the wireless operator," the small voice told him. "Say!
There"s a lot of these fool messages in the air again. You know what they said last night about six o"clock, and what happened."
"Let"s have "em," growled McCarthy.
"Here she is: "McCarthy, will you do as I tell you? Answer. Remember the sign at six o"clock." It"s signed "M.""
"Where did that come from?" asked the boss.
"Can"t tell, but somewheres a long ways off."
"How do you know that?"
"By the sound."