can’t marry you, George,” she pleaded in a hoarse, unnatural voice. “I am sorry that it is so, but I cannot do it.”
The man laughed and the tones chilled the heart of the girl. “You said once that my identity remained, no matter what the physical imperfections of my body. Now you deny it!” His voice rose in his excitement.
“Listen, oh George,” she cried now thoroughly panic-stricken. “You are yourself allowing your mental attitude toward life to be altered. You have admitted it. Had you remained unchanged mentally, I truly believe your physical difference would not have mattered. I loved you for what you were, but, George, you are so changed!”
“Yes, I am changed,” he shrieked, “but my desires and passions are no different, unless intensification indicates a difference.”
He reached toward her, but adept as he was in the use of his two artificial limbs, she eluded his grasp and was off with a bound up the rough river-path and toward the highway. She heard distinctly the sound of pursuit. Could he outrun her handicapped as he was?
Once he fell, and the sound of muttered oaths came to her ears. On and on she flew, not daring to look back though she suspected that he was gaining. Just within the border of the town where the houses were somewhat scattered he caught her and simultaneously she fainted away.
When consciousness returned a dear familiar face was bent near her own. With a sob of joy she put her arms about David’s neck, and in a few endearing words they plighted their troth.
David, on his way back from a professional call, where he was substituting for old Dr. Amos, who was ill, had witnessed from a distance the two running figures. Before he arrived upon the spot with his car, the pursuing form had overtaken the other.
To rescue a maiden from the arms of her lover seemed a very peculiar service to render—but one look into the eyes of George Gregory proved to the doctor beyond the question of a doubt that he was not dealing with a sane man. The contest was an unequal one, though the agility displayed by the cripple would have done credit to a normal man of more than average prowess. David tried to reason with his antagonist, but the use of logic at that time was unavailing. It was a hard struggle, but George was finally willing to admit himself defeated.
IV. A Man Obsessed
About three months following this incident Dr. Bell (now in possession of the office of the late Dr. Amos) was about to lock up after the afternoon consultations when he heard the approach of a belated visitor in the hall. Looking up he beheld Gregory who passed quickly through the waiting room and into the inner office, closing the door behind him. The peculiar look of a fanatic, that had become more marked since his second accident, was evident now as he seated himself and turned wild eyes to the doctor.
“Don’t be scared, doc,” he jeered at sight of Bell’s white drawn face. “I didn’t come to blame you for winning Rosalind’s love, though I confess the thought of your wedding next week goes considerably against the grain. I came for another purpose and I want you to help me.”
He rose now and advanced toward the physician. The latter observed the perfect mastery of the artificial limbs, a mastery that proved how well the brain can be trained to control nerves and muscles under unusual conditions. Was all the effort of this brain being turned in that direction to the detriment of a well-balanced reasoning power?
“Here’s my proposition, Bell,” the words jangled harshly, bringing to a swift conclusion the doctor’s thoughts regarding the changed mental status of his one-time friend. “I have decided what I want done. I’ll admit that what I’m about to tell you will prove I have a mental quirk which, by the way, corresponds to my physical quirks, but this thing has become an obsession with me.”
The speaker leaned forward and held the other’s attention with a steady gaze. He then resumed, “I am going to try out an experiment, or rather have it tried out on me, for I shall be a passive factor in this case. I am going to find out how much of this mortal coil I can shuffle off and still maintain my personal identity as a piece of humanity here on Earth. In other words, as much of my body as can be removed and substituted by artificial parts, I wish to have done.”
During Gregory’s recital David’s eyes had dilated in horror, and he unconsciously recoiled from his visitor until the width of the room was between them. Not a word could he utter. The seconds ticked away on the little ebony clock on the desk and still the two men regarded each other with unquestionable antagonism.
“Well, will you do it, Bell?” The man pointed significantly to the surgical instruments and the operating table. “I have ample means to pay you handsomely. I’m going to find out about this mortal body and its relation to the soul before I die. You’ve robbed me of one desire of my heart, but this you shall grant!”
At last Bell spoke, and with the sound of his voice his courage returned. “George, whether you believe it or not, you are a madman and I refuse to comply with your request. If, as you yourself maintain, with the loss of every bodily member, your mental and spiritual powers have waned, what in heaven’s name, tell me, would you be with only enough of your body left to chain your spirit to Earth? I will not aid you in this mad project of yours. Go, or shall I have you taken to the hospital for the insane?”
George Gregory saw that further persuasion was useless. He walked toward the outer office but at the doorway he turned and faced Bell. “There are other surgeons in the world, and mark my words, I shall find out yet by how slender a thread body and soul can hang together.”
V. The Artificial Man
Five years passed. David Bell married Rosalind Nelson and built up a splendid reputation as a surgeon. Nothing had been heard in those years of George Gregory. His memory passed as an evil dream and his name was never mentioned. Then one day (it was shortly after the erection of the new county hospital) David and a young intern by the name of Lucius Stevens were putting away the instruments after an operation, when they felt rather than heard the approach of an individual. Turning, they beheld the unfamiliar form of a stranger. He was a little under average height. A cap covered the upper portion of his face and a long loose overcoat concealed most of his figure.
“What can we do for you, stranger?” asked Dr. Bell of the silent figure in the door.
“Stranger!” exclaimed the hollow, metallic voice that issued from somewhere beneath the visor of the cap. “I am no stranger, though possibly you do not recognize me. Do you remember your rival George Gregory, Dr. David Bell? I am he.”
“You—it is impossible,” exclaimed the amazed doctor. “Gregory was a tall man, altogether different in appearance. You—”
“Nevertheless I tell you I am George Gregory and I have come to settle old accounts with you. Clear out,” he shouted to the frightened Stevens. “My trouble is not with you.”
Lucius lost no time in following the stranger’s suggestion. After his departure the two men in the operating room faced each other for some moments in silence.
“Before I have done with you,” came the metallic tones again, “I will explain a few things that may puzzle you.”
Here he walked to the office door, locked it and put the key into the overcoat pocket. “Now, sit down, David Bell, don’t be in a hurry, for you are not going to leave this room alive. I promise you that, and I am accustomed to doing what I promise.”
Bell did as he was bade. The curiosity of his analytical mind was aroused and he wished to find out more about this stranger whose identity he could in no way
