It went forth
about its daily affairs; it started for home a little early in order to
get there in season; it eschewed subways and theaters; it learned to wait
patiently, when one of the three blights struck its world, as a man waits
patiently for a shower to pass.
This class, as has been said, was preponderantly in the majority, but
its mass was being constantly diminished as a little knowledge of
danger seeped into its substance. News of the possible catastrophe
passed from mouth to mouth; a world outside, waiting aghast at such
fatuity, began to get in its messages. Street corner alarmists talked
to such as would listen. Thousands upon thousands left the city.
Hundreds of thousands more, tied hard and fast by the strings of
necessity, waited in an hourly growing dread.
The "sign" had been sent promptly at six o'clock, as promised. It proved
Darrow's prediction by turning out to be a stoppage of the electrical
systems. This time it lasted only half an hour-long enough to throw the
traffic and transportation into confusion. It was followed at short
intervals by demonstrations in light and sound; none was of long duration.
After the first few, their occurrence came freakishly, in flashes, as
though the hidden antagonist delighted in confusing his immense audience.
The messages he sent over the wireless in the Atlas Building grew more and
more threatening and grandiose. They demanded invariably that McCarthy
should be sought out and delivered up to a rather vaguely described
vengeance; and threatened with dire calamities all the inhabitants of
Manhattan if the Unknown's desires were not fulfilled.
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