We waited a moment. Nothing happened. Had he been seeing things or
hearing things, I wondered?
From our hidden vantage we could now see a square piece in the
floor, perhaps five feet in diameter, slowly open up as though on
a pivot. Beneath it we could make out a tube-like hole, perhaps
three feet across, with a covered top. It slowly opened.
A weird and sinister figure of a man appeared. Over his head he
wore a peculiar helmet with hideous glass pieces over the eyes,
and tubes that connected with a tank which he carried buckled to
his back. As he slowly dragged himself out, I could wonder only at
the outlandish headgear.
Quickly he closed down the cover of the tube, but not before a
vile effluvium seemed to escape, and penetrate even to us in our
hiding places. As he moved forward, Kennedy gave a flying leap at
him, and we followed with a regular football interference.
It was the work of only a moment for us to subdue and hold him,
while Craig ripped off the helmet.
It was Dan the Dude.
"What's that thing?" I puffed, as I helped Craig with the
headgear.
"An oxygen helmet," he replied. "There must be air down the tube
that cannot be breathed."
He went over to the tube. Carefully he opened the top and gazed
down, starting back a second later, with his face puckered up at
the noxious odor.
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