ary of War says is invincible. We are faced
by an enemy who would annihilate these United States, and this new
power fights on the side of the enemy.

"Must we go the way of England, of France, of all Europe? It would
seem so. The United States of America is doomed. Yet each one of us
will meet what comes bravely, if, facing our own end, we know that the
principles upon which this nation is founded must go on; if only the
Stars and Stripes still floats before our closing eyes to assure us
that some future day will see the resurrection of truth and of honor
and kindness among men.

"We will fight, as our Secretary of War has said--fight on to the end.
We will surrender--never! That is our answer to this one who calls
himself 'Paul.'"

We could not speak; I do not know how long the silence lasted. But I
know that I left that room a silent man among many silent men, in
whose eyes I saw a reflection of the emotion that filled my own heart.
It was the end--the end of America, of millions of American homes--but
this was better than surrender to such a foe. Better death than
slavery to that race of bloodthirsty oppressors.

* * * * *

But who was "Paul?" This question kept coming repeatedly to my mind.
The press of the country echoed the President's words, then dipped
their pens in vitriol to heap scorching invective upon the head of
the tyrant. The power of the Reds we might have met--or so it was
felt--but this new menace gave the invaders a weapon we could not
combat. It was power!--a means of flight beyond anything known!--an
explosive beside which our nitro compounds were playthings for a
child.

"Who is Paul?" It was not only myself who asked the question through
those next long hours, but perhaps I was the only one in whose mind
was a disturbing certainty that the answer was mine if I could but
grasp it.

I was remembering Paris; I was thinking of that peaceful, happy city
before the First of May, before the world had gone mad and a raging,
red beast had laid it waste and overrun it. And of Paul
Stravoinski--my friend "Straki" of college days--who had warned me. He
had known what was coming. He himself had said that he had prayed to
"them" for delay; that in a few weeks he would do--what?... And
suddenly I knew.

Paul had succeeded; his research had ended in the dissection of the
atom; he had unleashed the sub-atomic power of matter. Only this could
explain the wild flight thro