Chapter 7
They drove silently down towards the center of town. Neubarth was a little annoyed at the speed with which Rhadaman piloted his car, but refrained from saying anything. A few minutes passed, and Neubarth saw the numerous street lamps which marked the town's business district. Why is he going this way? he wondered. He knew that his was not the proper route to take if one wanted to deliver either of the girls to their homes. He turned toward Rhadaman so that he could ask him what he was doing. At that moment they passed beneath a streetlight, and Neubarth saw the red-haired youth's face lit up with the same demoniac glee as it had been earlier in the evening. No! It's not over yet, he thought with horror. Immediately thereafter Rhadaman screeched to a halt in front of a well-lit all-night restaurant, turned around to look at his two henchmen, and smiled broadly.
"I think the girls would like to get out here," he said. "Assist Sigrid, gentlemen."
As though they had already been briefed on this by Rhadaman, Rick and his friend threw open one of the back doors, tore Sigrid's blanket away from her, and thrust the naked girl out into the bright street. Simultaneously, Rhadaman opened his door, pulled Marnie away from Neubarth, and pushed her down onto the concrete, while continuing to retain his grasp on her blanket.
"No, you can't do this, Rhadaman!" Neubarth screamed.
"Sure I can, Professor," retorted Rhadaman in a calm voice as he jumped back behind the steering wheel and locked his door. Rick also locked the rear door just before the two girls regained their feet and with their anxious faces pressed against the glass, began to pound their fists against the side of the automobile.
"For God's sake, let us in, Ted!" Marnie yelled through the glass at Rhadaman's grinning visage. He shook his head in reply, and drove off down the busy street. Neubarth jerked around in his seat and looked back towards where the two girls still stood in the middle of the street. Their white bodies shone in the lamplight, and Neubarth could see that their presence had disrupted traffic. Cars jerked to sudden halts on all sides of them, and drivers' heads could be seen protruding from their windows.
Rhadaman pulled over to the side of the street, and all of them stared back at the young women who huddled together in the center of the intersection, obviously terrified by their predicament, and uncertain as to what to do. The patrons of the restaurant flooded out onto the sidewalk to gawk at the delightful spectacle that had been presented to them. Rhadaman rolled down his window, and he and his two friends laughed hilariously as they watched. Neubarth continued to stare too, but all he felt was a deadening numbness growing within his body.
"Look at the big boobs on that one!"
"Hot damn, I'd like some of that!" some of the restaurant customers shouted. Suddenly there was an uproar near the rear of the distant crowd, and Neubarth could see about a dozen men, most of which were long-haired and grimy and dressed in bizarre apparel, forge their way through the packed spectators. One of them swung a short chain at someone who stood in his path. The recipient of the blow collapsed onto the sidewalk with a yelp of pain. Rhadaman glanced at his watch and muttered, "Right on time."
The dirty-looking group of men surrounded the two girls, then herded them towards a row of shining motorcycles. Two of them leaped onto their machines and the others lifted the girls up behind them. The frightened captives were forced to cling tightly to the sweat-streaked clothing of the two hoodlums as they kicked their glittering vehicles into noisy life, performed a matched pair of abrupt wheelstands, and roared down the street towards Neubarth's parked car. Both of the bearded, long-haired ruffians waved to Rhadaman as they passed like twin thunderbolts, and Rhadaman smiled conspiratorially in return. Neubarth caught a glimpse of Marnie's face as she passed. It was pressed against the dirty sweatshirt of the man she rode behind, and twisted in awful recognition of her probable fate. Her ponderous breasts were flattened against the man's back as she clung to him in abject fear of being hurled onto the pavement. As the strange melange of people drew away, Neubarth saw the girls' glaringly white buttocks spread out upon the black leather of the motorcycle seats. Neubarth wondered what the motorcycle riders might have in mind for the two unfortunates. When he heard the other members of the hoodlum group start their machines, and storm off in pursuit of their commdes like a single roaring engine, he knew that Marnie and Sigrid were doomed to undergo unheard of degradations.
"Why have you done this, Rhadaman?" he asked, his voice almost breaking. "You arranged for those disgusting characters to pick the girls up here, didn't you?" He ended the sentence by dropping his head into his hands and sobbing openly.
"You're exhibiting far too much sensibility, Professor," Rhadaman said as he started the car and pulled out into the traffic. "Surely you don't begrudge the noble order of the Hell's Angels having a little fun with our castoff playthings, do you?" He laughed long and hideously. "Hell's Angels. A lovely name, don't you think? Oh, by the way, Professor, I wouldn't count on seeing either Sigrid or Marnie for some time. I'm told that those fellows tend to be a bit possessive with their spoils."
Rick and his friend joined in Rhadaman's merriment.
"Isn't there any good in you, Rhadaman?" said Neubarth through his pitiful and convulsive sobs.
"Good?" Rhadaman yelled angrily. "Are you trying to make me ill? Anyway, I'm going to forget that stupid question for now," Rhadaman continued, his rage rapidly subsiding. "Our immediate problem is how we're going to spend the rest of the evening. Any suggestions?"
Rick leaned forward from the back seat and whispered something into Rhadaman's ear. Rhadaman nodded his head and smiled. "That is a very good idea, Richard. Very good, indeed." He jerked the car sharply to the left. The tires squealed shrilly on the concrete roadway, and the auto hurtled up a narrow street.
"We're going to pay a call on Claudia Petrie, Professor. Know her?"
Neubarth thought of tall, primly attractive young woman of thirty or so, who had joined the faculty as a history instructor only a year ago. He remembered watching her well-shaped calves as she walked down the campus sidewalks, and wondering whether or not her continually austere expression was an affectation or a genuine feeling of alienation from those around her. She certainly was withdrawn. She never uttered an unnecessary comment during faculty meetings, but why was Rhadaman going over to her house?
"Take me home!" Neubarth demanded, looking over at Rhadaman's still grinning face.
"We wouldn't think of it, Professor." The redheaded youth replied. "I think you will enjoy an evening at Miss Petrie's house. Though if the rumors I've heard of her being exclusively attracted to members of her own sex are true, then I'm afraid she won't enjoy the evening at all. But maybe we can enact her conversion to more normal pleasures. We shall see." He drove up in front of a small, white cottage set back from the road amidst trees, and turned the motor off.
"I'll try to procure an invitation for us, gentlemen," said Rhadaman. "Rick, you and Corbett stay with the Professor and prevent him from doing anything which might disrupt our plans. Wait in those shrubs over there, and when I enter the house, allow me a couple of minutes, then follow."
They all got out of the car quietly, and while Rhadaman walked up to the front door, Rick and Corbett kept a firm grasp on each of Neubarth's arms and directed him toward an overgrown hedge at the side of the house.
Rhadaman knocked boldly on the door of the cottage, while Rick put his hand over Neubarth's mouth and whispered into his ear, "You'd better keep quiet, Professor, and not spoil this for the rest of us. I really don't understand why Ted wants you with us anyway, but he does, so that's that."
After Rhadaman had waited for several minutes, the door was opened, and he immediately began to speak. Neubarth, listening closely, was appalled by Rhadaman's shameless dramatics, but could not help feeling admiration for the perverse young man's powers of persuasion.
"I realize that this is a ridiculous hour to come calling, Miss Petrie," Rhadaman said in a rapid, sophomoric tone, "but I have a problem, and I think that you're the one person who may be able to help me."
"I'm very sorry, uh ... Ted Rhadaman, isn't it? But as you say, this is a ridiculous hour, and I—"
"Oh, please, Miss Petrie," Rhadaman went on simperingly. "It's just that I think I may be asked to join the college faculty very soon, and ... well, the decision has become almost too much for me."
"I don't understand your problem, Mr. Rhadaman," she said in a concise, academic voice. "What decision are you speaking of? If you have been working toward teaching on the university level, then why not accept an invitation to join the staff?"
"Oh, my parents are decidedly in favor of my doing so," he said, shuffling his feet like a bashful suitor. "But, you see, I want to paint. I'm just wondering if it might not be more honest to devote all my time to developing myself as an artist. I thought that you, seeing as you have begun teaching fairly recently, might ... oh, I guess this was a stupid idea ... " He turned around and moved falteringly away.
"Wait, Mr. Rhadaman. You say you paint?" she said, her voice becoming more animated. "This is a curious coincidence. You see, I paint also."
"Really?" asked Rhadaman as he about-faced and stepped back up on the porch landing. "I had no idea."
"Yes, indeed. I've been painting for about ten years now," she said. "And though, financially, my rewards from my art haven't been much, I ... well, why don't you come in for a few minutes, Mr. Rhadaman. I think I have some coffee that we can warm up. But I must warn you, I can only afford a few minutes."
"Thank you, thank you, Miss Petrie," Rhadaman said effusively as he stepped within the screen door which she held open for him.
As the front door clicked shut behind them, Rick took his hand away from Neubarth's mouth and uttered a low chuckle. "Man, that cat has the touch," he said appreciatively.
He then clasped Neubarth by the elbow and directed him toward the front door of the cottage. The three of them stepped onto the porch, and stood there quietly for about five minutes. Neubarth considered crying out a warning to the young woman inside, but he knew that Rick and Corbett would deal harshly with him, and there was Rhadaman. He could imagine the intensity with which that demon would revenge himself if anyone attempted to foil his evil plans. He decided that his original analysis of the situation, of any situation that involved Rhadaman, was true. It was no use resisting. He remained silent.
Corbett tiptoed forward, very quietly opened the screen door, then turned the doorknob slowly and walked in. Rick and Neubarth followed immediately after him.
Rhadaman and Claudia Petrie were sitting on the divan, sipping steaming coffee from their cups. Claudia wore a heavy robe over a nightgown, and this was buttoned primly up to her throat. When she realized that others were in the room she jerked her head around, and stared open-mouthed at the trio. Her eyes passed quickly over their faces, and when she came to Neubarth's she caught her breath and her eyes grew wide.
"What on earth is this, Professor Neubarth?" she demanded.
Neubarth lowered his face and shook his head, and Rhadaman stood up and grinned down at Claudia.
"Use your artistic imagination, Claudia darling," said Rhadaman. "What do you think this is?"
"I'm sure I don't know," she said as she rose to her feet. "But if you all don't leave immediately, I shall be forced to call the police."
"Surely you jest, Claudia," Rhadaman said.
He walked over to the telephone, picked it up, and with a single quick movement, ripped it and its attached wires from the wall. "Now," he continued, "we've heard reports that you like girls, Claudia. Like them ever so much. Is that true?"
Her face colored. She yelled, "How dare you!" and raised her arm to strike Rhadaman. He clutched her by the wrist, twisted her arm behind her, and forced her down onto the floor. He spoke again, his voice as calm as ever. "No need to become violent, sweets. We mean you no harm."
"I'll ruin you at the college, Ted Rhadaman!" she said savagely from between lips that were clenched tightly with the pain of her twisted arm.
"Oh, my. A threat," he said mockingly. "Now perhaps we shall have to harm you, if only to teach you some manners." He released her arm and lifted her to her feet. "Now, suppose you lead us into your bedroom. And I do hope, for the sake of my tender sensibilities, that it is not filled with such loathsome things as dildoes, or phallusshaped vibrators." He shoved her away from him, and she immediately bolted for the darkened hallway, ran into a room, and slammed the door behind her. When they got up to the door, and found it locked, Rhadaman motioned Corbett, who was quite husky, forward.
While Rick held Neubarth firmly, the other young man drove his shoulder against the door. It gave at the first impact, shattering like balsa wood, and they all scrambled into Claudia's bedroom to see that she was frantically dialing a bedside phone. Rhadaman walked over to her, slapped her forcefully, and ripped the phone loose from its wires.
Now Rhadaman became very businesslike. "Help me tie her to the bed, Corbett!" he ordered, then picked up a sheet and ripped it into several wide strips, tossing several of them to his henchman when he had finished.
The young woman made another attempt to escape, but Corbett caught her up in his burly arms and threw her back onto the bed.
"You filthy punks!" Claudia yelled. Rhadaman responded by slapping her again, with more force than he had before, and then gripped her bathrobe and pulled it open with such vigor that its buttons popped up into the air. He yanked the garment away from her and threw it on the floor, then pulled her arm up next to the headboard and tied it to one of the bedposts, while Corbett did the same thing with her other arm. Then, as the girl writhed and screamed at them, they both walked down to the foot of the bed, and each of them gripped one of her ankles and tied it to a wooden post.
They both moved back to survey their handiwork. Claudia, clad now only in her diaphanous nightgown, continued to thmsh her trussed body energetically and scream insults at her tormentors. Presently she grew silent and stared at Rhadaman. Her eyes glowed with hate.
Rhadaman walked back beside her and sat down on the bed. He lowered his hand very slowly onto her silk-covered hip, and stroked it gently.
"I'm very curious about your body, Claudia," he said. "You look so nice in your clothes that I find myself most eager to see if you look as splendid, without them." He smiled at her and continued to stroke her hip and upper thigh. She spat at him, but the little meteor of liquid missed him as he moved his head to the side.
"I do hope you will pardon my forwardness," he continued in the same ironical tone. "But I'm particularly interested in your lovely breasts. They look so pert and well-formed beneath your clothing, and I was wondering if I might have just a little peak. I'm sure you won't mind."
"I'll put you in prison, you son-of-a-bitch!" she yelled.
"Tsk tsk, such language, Claudia." Rhadaman said as he moved his hand up the lightly veiled curves of her luxuriant body and touched her heaving breasts.
"Oh my, they do feel nice. Round and soft and all. Here, let's show them to my attentive friends." He pulled the delicate material down across her collarbone and exposed the soft foothills of her ample breasts. Then, still smiling cherubically at her, he ripped the front of the gown down to her stomach, and pulled the fabric back to expose her naked flesh. As she breathed deeply, her milk-white mounds jutted out, vibrating actively. Her nipple areas were huge. They spread over the summits of her breasts like the snow that caps mountains, except that they were plum-colored, and as the nipples themselves rose into erection, they, too, looked like ripe plums.
"Aren't they nice, gentlemen," said Rhadaman, looking back toward the wide-eyed trio. Rick licked his lips, and Neubarth felt sexual desire rise in him, too, even though he was still sickened by the goings-on.
"And such large areolas, Claudia," Rhadaman said as he returned his gaze to the young women, whose face was beet-red with rage and shame. "I find them most exciting." He began to work the meaty flesh of her breasts with his hands, fondling each of the nipples, which caused them to grow even more rigid. "But, unfortunately, we have very little time. So I fear I must cut short my explorations, and get directly to essentials."
He gripped the edge of the torn silk and ripped the nightgown away from her body in one rapid movement. Without pausing, he fastened his fingers around the waistband of her panties, tore them from her loins, and cast these, too, aside.
Her sex was completely hairless, though Neubarth could see as he looked that she actually had a full pubic bush, but had shaved it for some reason.
"My," said Rhadaman in mock horror, "this is an innovation. Tell me Claudia, do you shave it so as to allow your girl friends more ready access?"
"You pig! You filthy male pig!" she shouted at him, and arched her body in her struggles to get free. Her eyes still expressed great anger, but for the first time they showed a little fear too. "Okay. You guys have had your peepshow. Now if you untie me and leave this instant, I might be generous and not prefer charges against you. All right?" She whined this last question and Rhadaman chuckled softly in reply.
Rick, Corbett, and Neubarth all stared intently at the hairless mound of the woman's pudenda. With her legs drawn apart as they were, the outer lips of her sex were stretched back to either side, revealing the pink inner reaches of her vaginal channel. The three men could see the taut little button of Claudia's clitoris, and just below her gaping sexual grotto, the puckered anal opening. This yawning sexual display, topped by her nude mound of venus on which the shadow of her shaven pubic hair showed, caused Neubarth to grow very lustful. He felt his penis hardening into erection, and his lips, over which his tongue moved ceaselessly, grew wet. His hands dropped to his belt, and he had begun to unbuckle it when he heard Rhadaman's sardonic laugh.
"Now don't get too eager, Professor. I think we should let Corbett have the first shot at her."
Upon hearing this, Rhadaman's muscular friend yanked off his clothes and climbed up on the footboard of the bed. He crouched there for a moment, like a medieval gargoyle, and his penis stuck out from between his bent thighs like a fearsome weapon. Claudia ceased writhing against her bonds and looked up into his glittering eyes.
"No!" she screamed, and thrashed around even more violently in her efforts to escape. Her flesh quavered with her exertions, and her voluptuous body arched up into a delicious ivory bridge. Corbett leaped.
He landed between her widespread legs with his organ already halfway into the woman's pink cavern. He prodded a few times, then thrust mightily, and Claudia screamed like a banshee as he gained total entry. He began to pump away energetically, and Claudia's white body was shaken unmercifully by his violent strivings. Neubarth saw her eyes roll back in her head as though with shock, and then soon thereafter, Corbett was through. He climbed slowly from off the young woman's violated form, and Neubarth, far too possessed with his lust to wait any longer, ripped off his clothing, ran around to the side of the bed and took his place on Claudia's body. Her sexual opening, already lubricated by Corbett's discharge, received Neubarth's rigid staff easily. She did not reciprocate his motions as he pumped, but after a while, she began to moan and gasp loudly. Finally, just before Neubarth reached orgasm, she lifted her lower body up to meet his downthrusting penis with considerable gusto. After he had expired, and had slid off the bed, she continued to move her body spasmodically, now thoroughly awakened sexually. As Rick jumped on her to take his turn, Rhadaman spoke to Neubarth: "Well done, Professor. You got the young lady into the proper frame of mind."
When Rick had finished, Rhadaman waved his hand in a gesture that signified that he didn't want any. He remarked that she was probably far too soggy for him to find any enjoyment in the plundering of her body. Instead, he bent over the trussed young woman and spoke into her ear. "Your box doesn't look so sweet anymore, dear, but if your inclinations haven't been altered by this episode, then I'm sure that you'll be able to clean up enough to entertain your girl friends in the near future."
Neubarth looked down at the bound girl. Her distended sex was caked with male jism, and her breasts were bruised by their eager fingers. One immense nipple was imprinted with a bloody set of teeth marks. Neubarth wondered if he had bitten her there.
Presently she spoke through swollen lips. "You're all through, Rhadaman. You and the other are going to prison. You'll go to the gas chamber if I can arrange it." Her voice was low and infinitely menacing. As she finished the sentence, Neubarth heard something like an electrical crackle. He glanced at Rhadaman, as did Rick and Corbett, and saw that the young man's hair looked as though it were blazing. Spiraling sparks of livid color played in his eyes as he grinned down at Claudia and gave a short laugh.
"Is that right, Claudia, darling?" he asked matter-of-factly. He looked at his two cronies and at Neubarth.
"Well, I guess we're all through, fellas." He smiled even more largely. "Let's go."
Rick and Corbett clambered into their clothing, and after a little hesitation, Neubarth dressed also. When they were all three into their clothing, Rhadaman told them to go out to the car. The two young men turned on their heels and walked out the front door. Neubarth followed.
As they walked across the lawn towards the dark shape of the parked automobile, Neubarth's mind was filled with morbid thoughts. He realized that everything good was over, that Claudia Petrie would tell the school board of this evening, and that this would mean the end of his career. Thoughts of his family were no consolation. His wife had turned into a common slut, Farley seemed to be tending towards sexual libertinism, and his sons would undoubtedly find out about his depravity, and about the older man's relationship with Marnie, and would have nothing more to do with him. It was no use returning home and trying to make things right again, no use at all. Neubarth decided that he wouldn't go home at all. Never again. Everything was over, and he had nothing left. Nothing.
The three men sat in the car for several minutes. Finally they heard the front door of the cottage slam. They all looked up to see Rhadaman striding across the lawn, and behind him, through one of the cottage windows, flames were erupting into a wall of fire.
"I don't think we'll have to worry about Claudia reporting us now," he said after he had gotten into the car and had settled himself behind the wheel.
Neubarth, Rick, and Corbett looked back at the house where the molested young woman still lay bound to the bed. They continued to stare at the growing blaze as Rhadaman started the car and pulled away from the curb.
"She'll be roasted, Rhadaman! This is murder!" Rick said in a terrified voice.
"Yeah, I guess it could be called murder. But then, I doubt if anyone will be able to ascertain whether or not the fire was started deliberately," Rhadaman said in an icy, clinical tone. "But, if it will make you feel any better about the girl, she'll probably die of smoke inhalation before the flames reach her. So, in effect, the fire will perform a sort of homemade cremation for us. Most tidy, don't you think?"
He stopped at the corner stopsign, and looked back with admiring eyes at the now roaring blaze. Rick and Corbett took advantage of their temporary halt to jerk open the rear doors, jump out of the car, and begin running in opposite directions. Barely seeming to notice their hasty exit, Rhadaman uttered a short laugh, and then turned onto the town's main thoroughfare and drove slowly along it, like dozens of other evening drivers.
"Do you want to go home, Professor?" Rhadaman asked.
Rhadaman's words reached Neubarth's ears through a thickmental mist. He had slumped down in the car seat, and had succeeded in blocking all moralistic thoughts out of his mind. He thought no more about the recent fire, nor about his family. He instructed Rhadaman to drop him off downtown, not giving a thought to the fact that the car was his. Rhadaman nodded his head and drove steadily on. When they reached a sector of downtown area that was mostly given over to sleazy little bars and garishly illuminated missions, Neubarth asked Rhadaman to pull over. After he had gotten out of the car, Neubarth heard the young man tell him that he would be seeing him in the near future, then he stood and watched his own shining automobile intrude into the stream of traffic and slowly fade from his vision.
Neubarth walked into a small bar and bought a fifth of heavily fortified wine. Then he walked next door to a cheap flophouse, got an inexpensive room, and climbed painfully up many flights of stairs to the dirty cubicle that he had rented. He lay on the odorous bed and rhythmically tipped the bottle up to his mouth until it was almost empty, then, succumbing to the numbing influence of the syrupy liquor, he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Neubarth spent the next week in much the same manner. After he woke up in the early afternoon, he went next door to the bar, bought a bottle of wine, then went down the street where the inhabitants of the district sat in a long row, against the wall of a deserted building. He sat with them, incessantly drinking from his bottle, and offering it occasionally to his companions. They talked, once in awhile, of such subjects as the women they had known in their younger days, and of the places they had visited via freight trains. As evening came on, Neubarth usually passed out, and lay in his befuddled state on the pavement. He woke up late at night, stumbled to his feet, and went back to his room, after stopping at the same bar to buy the same brand of wine.
One day, after Neubarth had spent seven or eight days observing the same unvarying sequence of pursuits, Rhadaman came to find him. The red-haired youth finally located Neubarth where he lay outstretched on the sidewalk. He got out of the car, and dragged the semiconscious Professor back to the vehicle. After they were underway, Rhadaman laughed and said, "It looks as though you've let yourself go a bit, Professor. You hardly appear the well-groomed academician that I knew only a week or so ago."
Neubarth heard what Rhadaman was saying, though he had to struggle to allow the young man's words to penetrate the morass of grayness that whirled in his brain. Neubarth's whiskers, many days along now, formed a short, dark beard. His clothing was rumpled, and stained by wine, vomit, and urine. He managed to mumblingly ask where they were going.
"Well, Professor," Rhadaman replied, "we're going to the house of a friend of mine. He lives several hundred miles away, on the coast. I thought that you might be just the cat to accompany me, seeing as you have a taste for perverse things. Right?"
Neubarth said nothing.
"You see, this guy has a sort of castle overlooking the ocean. And this castle is filled with young broads. You know, hung up in chains, and like that. This guy has the mind of a medieval torturer. We're going to be his guests for a while, and of course, we'll be invited to partake of his own rather singular pleasures. Sound interesting?"
Neubarth managed to nod his head. It didn't matter. Nothing did.
They drove on for two days, and after Neubarth's mind had cleared a little, he relieved Rhadaman behind the wheel from time to time. Neither of them talked much, but only devoted themselves to keeping the automobile moving on at a high speed. They reached the coast in the morning. At Rhadaman's instruction, Neubarth continued to drive along a narrow road that clung to the rocky coastline.
by this time, the former Professor's mind had cleared considerably. He began to feel the heavy, oppressive burden of guilt that he thought he had left behind in the skidrow slum. It came back with crushing impact. He recognized that one person, and one person only, was responsible for his descent into his present state of degradation. He looked over at the youth, whose fiery hair shone brightly in the morning sunlight and tossed in the wind. His eyes glimmered faintly, and a small, wholly wicked smile played across his lips. Neubarth saw that the road ahead curved sharply to the left. If one didn't turn, he thought, there would be a 500 foot plunge down the cliff and into the sea. He decided.
"I'm taking you to hell with me, you bastard!" he yelled, then slammed the accelerator to the floorboard.
"To hell, Professor?" said Rhadaman in his familiar controlled voice. "That will be 'old home week' for me. Didn't you know?"
Just as the car broke through the wooden barrier, Neubarth's face jerked towards Rhadaman. His eyes bulged as he recognized who and what the youth was. The automobile careened over the cliff, and tumbled end over end down to the water, bursting into flames in the process. As the waves washed in over the blazing wreck, Rhadaman's evil laughter still boomed out over the glistening face of the conquering sea.