SYNOPSIS
John Spencer and his cousin, Geof
frey Bohun, are vacationing in Aus
tria. Geoffrey is a gifted portrait
painter but prefers to paint land
scapes. While strolling In the forest,
John hears English voices and de
cides to investigate. From safe
cover he finds four men burying a
man in green livery who, evidently,
had been murdered. Pharaoh is the
leader of the gang; the others are
Dewdrop, Kush and Bugle. Unfortu
nately, John makes himself known
to the assassins by dropping a letter
with his name and address on it. He
tells Geoffrey and his chauffeur,
Barley, of his adventure. Geoffrey,
realizing that John's life is in dan
ger, declares he must vanish. Spencer
discovers that the livery of the mur
dered man corresponds to the livery
of the servants of Yorick castle, and
tells Countess Helena, mistress of
the castle, what he had seen. With
Geoffrey and Barley, John starts for
Annabel, a nearby village. They en
counter Pharaoh. In making their
getaway they exchange shots with
the gang, without serious result.
They arrive at the Yorick estate,
where Lady Helena had requested
John and his cousin to meet her.
She reveals to them what the gang
Is after. Her father had converted
his immense fortune into gold sov
ereigns and hidden them away in a
secret vault in the castle. Knowing
that his son, Valentine, Helena's
brother, was incapable of controlling
so large a fortune, he had revealed
It to Helena alone just before his
death. In some manner, the news
leaked out, and Pharaoh is after the
treasure. They planned that Geoffrey
and Barley would go to Salzburg to
watch for Pharaoh, while John was
to remain at Plumage. Several nights
go by without important incident
and no word from Geoffrey.
CHAPTER III—Continued
—5—
Then I washed my hands and sat
down to write to my cousin; but
he never had his letter, for before
I had written a page the farmer’s
wife came smiling to serve my tea.
That evening I strolled in the
meadows, until It was time to
change, and I shall always remem
ber the stillness that hung like a
mantle about the meadow’s and
woods, a calm that was unreal.
• •••*••
When I rode Into sight of Yorrlck,
I saw that a flag had been hoisted
on one of the towers. I could not
see the device, for the breeze had
fallen to nothing, and the bunting
was lying lifeless against the staff.
No flag had been flying on Tuesday,
when Geoffrey and I had visited
Yorick for lunch, but I supposed
that today was some festival which
It was the custom to honor through
out the land.
My supposition was wrong.
As I was ushered into the library,
Helena rose from a table and took
my hand.
“My brother’s arrived,” she said.
“He’s only been here twenty min
utes, and he’s brought a friend
with him.”
I took my seat beslre her on a
sofa.
“John,” she continued. “I ought
to have told you before, but I
thought that he’d give me more no
tice. I’d only time to send the car
to the station to meet his train.”
Remembering what she had told
me of other guests—
“And his friend?” said I.
She shrugged her shoulders.
“Oh, the usual sort, I suppose. I
haven’t even seen him. Never mind.
The point is this. Valentine must
know nothing of what is afoot. He
doesn’t know of the gold, and he
must not know. He mustn’t know
about young Florin, except that he’s
dead. I’ve told him I’ve lent you
Plumage—you and your cousin, of
course. But what makes things
difficult is this: He Is the Count of
Yoriek, and, as such, when he’s
here in the castle he has absolute
say. I simply do not count. M.v
father did what he could. He left
me ‘the contents of the castle’ and
everything else that he had, except
the estate. He hadn’t the power to
leave that away from his son and
heir. And so I’ve a definite hold on
Valentine—which he most deeply
resents. But sometimes when he is
here the knowledge that he is all
powerful goes to his head.
“I’m bound to tell you all this.
He’ll probably be quite all right;
but If he should show off this eve
ning you’ll understand.”
“I’ll be very careful," I said.
Then we talked of other things
and wondered how Geoffrey and
Barley were getting on and wheth
er Rush and Bugle would give us
our chance tonight. There seemed
to be no reason for cancelling the
plans we had made.
It was twenty minutes to nine
when we heard a burst of laughter,
and the library doors were opened
by the servant that stood without.
Then the Count came in, still
laughing, with his arm about Pha
raoh's shoulders and a challenging
took In his ey^° j
CHAPTER IV
Flight
HOW Helena knew that It was
I’haraoh, I cannot tell. She
knew him the instant she saw his
face, for 1 felt her stiffen beside
me before she got to her feet.
The Count of Yorick was speak
ing.
“Helena, this Is Captain Fanlng.”
Pharaoh came to her quickly and
took her hand. As he looked into'
her eyes, he spoke very low.
“What a good tiling I missed Mr.
Silencer. Had I hit him, I should
liave discarded my ace of trumps."
Before she could answer, he laid
his left hand on my arm.
“Mr. Spencer and I,” he said,
turning, “have met before. In fact,
I left his cousin at Salzburg—In ex
cellent health. He was very busy
when I saw him. I think he was
seeking some subject. ... I find
all his work delightful—he takes
such pains."
I stood like some convict, listen
lng to the formality of Judgment
and finding the grave occasion a
hideous dream. I know that Helena
Introduced me and that I
shook hnnds with the Count—a
very good-looking boy, with an
overbearing manner and the signs
of drink in his face. And I know
that while Pharaoh was speaking,
he kept a hand under his Jacket
upon his hip.
All the time my brain was ram
pant, darting hither and thither.
In a flash we had been confound
ed. My cousin and Barley were at
Salzburg, but Pharaoh was here In
the castle, the guest of the Count.
And Dewdrop was here as his ser
vant, and Bugle and Rush were at
hand. Though the castle was full
of servants, the Countess was pow
erless as long as her brother was
there: besides my life was forfeit,
if Helena lifted a hand.
"My sister tells me you’re at
Plumage," said the Count. "I hope
you’ve got all you want. I was
there to shake off measles and
I've never liked the place since.”
Before I could answer—
“Where's Plumage?” said Pha
raoh, quietly.
The Count told him exactly,
whilst I stood dumb.
"Very attractive,” said Pharaoh
and tossed his cocktail off. "May I
speak to my servant a minute?”
The fellow’s audacity shook me.
For some reason I did not fear him,
but his monstrous impertinence hit
me over the heart
His intention was clear. While we
dined Dewdrop would seek Rush
and Bugle, and the two would
be waiting at Plumage when I re
turned.
And Helena and I could do noth
ing.
I heard the Count send for “Cap
tain Faning’s servant.” Before he
arrived, however, the doors were
opened again and a butler entered
the room.
"My lady is served."
As we passed through the hall,
the curtains of an archway were
parted and Dewdrop appeared.
Helena saw him, as I did, and
quickened her pace.
My lady and I were within the
dining room. Except for the serv
ants we had the room to ourselves.
I heard her speak to the butler.
"Ask the Count to begin," she
said. Then she turned to me.
“Come,” she breathed.
In a flash she was out on the
ramparts, with me behind. There
she turned to the left and ran like
the wind.
The door of a tower was open,
and Helena whipped Inside. She
fled upstairs and into the pleas
antest bedroom I ever saw. As 1
followed her in, she pressed a key
into my hand.
“There’s a door behind that cur
tain.”
While I was unlocking this, she
twitched a coat from a cupboard.
“Have you money, John?”
“About fifty pounds.”
“Good.”
Then she threw one look around
and slipped out of the room.
“Lock it behind us, John."
A short stone stairway brought
us into a little hall which was verv
dimly lighted and was shut by three
massive doors.
“The right hand one," said Hel
ena. “Quick. That's a master key."
We were encountering a winding
flight of steps. At the foot of this
flight we came to another door,
but I could not see to unlock it,
so Helena took the key.
And then we were out in some
passage and there on our right was
a postern that gave to the outside
world. But Helena turned Instead
to a very much smaller door, sunk
deep in the wall
Helena’s Angers were shaking, as
she fitted the master key.
An Instant later the door was
locked behind us and we were In
the dark.
Helena was trembling. I put my
arm about her and held her close.
“Reaction,” she murmured. “I’ll
be all right directly. You see, we’re
safe for the moment. I—I’d like to
sit down."
With my arm about her, we sat
ourselves down on a step.
“Listen, John. We couldn’t have
crossed the drawbridge without be
ing seen. And that would have
been ruination. . . . Rut now we’ve
Just disappeared. The doors that
were open are open, and the doors
that were locked are locked. But
we have vanished. This stairway
leads to a grating in the wall of the
moat. It’s just above the water.
Directly below it, under the water
and. therefore, out of sight, is a
footbridge of stone. That lends
across the moat to another grating
set in the opposite wall. The grat
ings are barred — not locked, and
each of them's barred on this side.
The farther grating admits to an
old brick tunnel that will lead us
under the meadows and into the
woods." She got to her feet. “And
now we must go. We've not a mo
ment to lose, TJie ramparts don’t
overlook this part of the moat, and
we simply must get to Plumage be
fore Bugle and Rush.”
Carefully we descended the stair,
which was very damp.
The water was cold and the iron
of the gratings was rusted and
very harsh, but the footbridge gave
good foothold. Since the water
came up to my loins, I made He
lena lie across my shoulders and
carried her over like that.
As I sat her on her feet In the
tunnel, 1 heard the Count calling
her name.
“Helena! Helena!”
1 hauled myself out of the water
to stand by her side.
“Helena, where are you?”
Oently I closed the grating.
Again the Count lifted his voice.
“Fanlng!” he hawled. “Fanlng!"
Helena touched mv arm.
"I could tell him where Fanlng
is. He's gone to the bridge. No
body knows of this exit, but Florin
and me.”
The tunnel seemed without end.
It was dark and damp and noisome
and ran uphill, and I was more
than thankful when after five or
six minutes I saw the faint light
"My Sister Tells Me You're at
Plumage,” Said the Count.
of the evening and found the air
more fresh. The mouth of the
tunnel was masked by a riot of un
dergrowth, but when we were clear
of this screen, I saw at once that
we stood due north of the castle.
“And now for Axel,” said Hel
ena. “And Sabre, I hope. When
he can’t find me, he’ll remember
the last two nights and come to
the Plumage ride.”
It was now ten minutes past
nine, and dusk had come in. We
had, therefore, no fear of skirting
the edge of the forest, for the go
ing was better in the meadows and
we were at least half a mile from
where Axel would be.
We pushed on breathlessly.
We had covered half the distance
when Helena caught my arm and
stopped in her tracks.
Somebody was whistling — not
very far away.
Then we heard Pharaoh’s voice.
“Good dog,” he cried. “Good
dog."
The man was out in the mead
ows, somewhere between the bridge
and the Plumage ride.
In a flash I saw what had hap
pened.
Sabre had left the castle, and
Pharaoh had seen him go. The
porter, no doubt, had told him that
that was the Countess' dog, and the
fellow had guessed In an instant
that Sabre's instinct was leading
him to his mistress, wherever she
was. And so lie had followed Sa
bre, but had lost him because It
was dark.
“Come on," said I. “Now that
he’s lost Sabre, he hasn’t a chance.”
“If he hears the horses,”
breathed Helena.
We were nearly there now, but
when Pharaoh whistled again, he
was not so far as before.
As we stumbled into the ride, I
found the dog paddling beside us.
He may have been there for five
minutes for all I know. And there
was Axel waiting, ten minutes be
fore hts time.
“Good dog,” cried Pharaoh.
I judged the man to be fifty paces
away.
In a flash I had Helena up on the
lively gray.
As she stooped to whisper to
Axel, I turned to the other horse,
but, perhaps because he was star
tled, he would not stand. As I
swung myself up, he bncked side
ways against the gray, and before
I could find my right stirrup, its
dangling iron had clashed with that
of Helena, making a ringing sound.
The whistle which Pharaoh was
letting suddenly stopped.
I heard the man running towards
us as we turned the horses about.
And then we were both sitting
down and riding hard for Plumage.
Pharaoh would run to the castle,
find the Count and induce him to
order a car; and we had to ride to
Plumage and drive from there to
the high road before that car could
reach the mouth of the private
lane.
As we came to the apron—
"i’ll take the hordes.” said Hel
ena. “You go and get your
things.''
As she caught my bridle, I flung
myself off the buy.
In my bedroom 1 wasted no time,
but snatched up a razor and seized
the first clothes I found; yet, ere
I was back the horses were fast in
tlie stables and Helena was return
ing to take her seat in the Rolls.
Thirty seconds later the Rolls
slid over the bridge.
* * • * * * •
I had often rend and heard speak
of “an agony of apprehension," but
never until that evening, when our
headlights sent darkness packing
out of that lovely lane, had I un
derstood that terrible state of
mind.
Then all at once the truth stood
clear before me, and something
more sinister than fear took hold
of my heart.
The lane was no lane, but a trap
—full two miles long. Once we
were In, we could no more turn the
Rolls round than a man that was
hurled could turn himself round in
his grave.
If only we had stuck to the
horses and ridden away across
country to take some train. . . .
I set my teeth; and we took the
rise before us with the rush of a
lift.
As the Rolls swept over the crest
for an instant I lifted my foot—
and then in a flash all my suspense
was over and its grip was torn
from my heart.
Two miles ahead a car had
turned into the lane.
Helena caught my arm.
“That’s the Carlotta. I know
it. What can we do?"
For some extraordinary reason
my senses were now as lively as
they had been lately dull. I knew
no hesitation; my confidence was
sublime.
"We back.” I said quietly. "What
a mercy we hadn’t got further. As
It is, we’ve plenty of time. They
can’t do a mile a minute along this
lane."
"Rut, John—”
I patted her blessed hand.
“Don’t worry, my dear. It’s all
right.”
Two minutes later I backed her
over the bridge.
“Can you see their headlights?"
I asked.
“Not yet."
I began to swing around to the
right, leaving the roadway and
backing onto the turf. When I had
gone thirty paces, I threw out the
clutch.
At once we heard the Carlotta
and a moment later we saw the
glow of her lights.
The two of us sat In silence, lis
tenlng and watching, while Pha
raoh “came down like the wolf on
the fold.”
I do not think we were excited
—the danger was past. We now
were simply waiting for a car to
get out of our way.
And so she did.
Well clear of the beam of her
headlights, we watched her sweep
down the slope and over the bridge;
and as she went by to the apron,
I let the Rolls leap forward and
take her place on the road.
I do not think that they saw us,
for their eyes, of course, were look
lng the opposite way; but in anj
event the start which we had was
deadly, for they must turn the Car
lotta and w’e had the faster car.
As we floated In silence, I
touched my companion's sleeve.
“And now where?” said I.
“We'll go to my nurse at Pom
mers. Her husband's a farmer
there, and they’ll see us through.
And we’ll wire to your cousin to
Join us and start from there.”
We had the ways all to ourselves,
and. Indeed. I believe that we were
the only beings awake in that coun
tryslde. Twice we sang through
a village. So for some 35 miles.
(TO HE CONTINUED)
Five Port*
The Cinque, or Five Ports, are
group of towns in Sussex and Kent
which formerly enjoyed certain val
uable privileges In exchange for
providing help to beat back possible
enemies attempting to land on the
English coast. They were Hast
Ings, Romney, Hythe, Dover and
Sandgate. Afterwards Wlncbelsea
and Rye were added.
GOLDEN |
PHANTOMS j
;! Fascinating * !
! Talcs of Cditha L. WatMNi '
; Lost Mines $W.N U. || |
CATHEDRAL LOOT
IN T1IE shadow of Mount Taylor,
T near the old road house and
stage station on the Butterfields
Central Overland route, a treasure
Is hidden.
The old stage route dates hnok
still farther, to the days when Old
Mexico and New Mexico were one.
Don Gonzales was a Mexican. He
came north to live, and he built an
adobe house near what Is now Blue
water. More he settled down, raised
sheep, and made friends with the
Indians.
Just before the Don came up Into
that country, there had been trouble
In the south. One of the great cathe
drals had been looted and bandits
were abroad. The story traveled a
little more slowly than the Don did.
but it reached his neighborhood
after a while, and It, too, settled
down. It was said that Don Gon
zales had the loot from the church.
No one saw It, but rumor persisted
that It was somewhere around that
adobe ranchhouse.
The Don finally died, and those
who lived nearby would doubtless
have Investigated, but Apaches
swept down and across the land,
and everyone was too busy with the
Invading hordes to hunt for treas
ure.
It whs in 1808 that a certain
rancher came into the country to
live, nnd he rode over to the old
Gonzales place one day. He went
into the adobe house out of curi
osity, for there Is always something
attractive about an old ruin of the
sort, and began looking nhout him.
The fireplace was choked with de
bris, and rngs hung down from the
chimney.
Why he pulled at the rags, the
rancher probably could not have
told. Why does one aimlessly pull
at such things? He was no doubt
prepared for a slide of dusty debris,
but certainly he did not expect what
he found—an oil painting rolled up
and hidden In the apparently solid
wall!
The rancher's appreciation of art
was not great. The painting was a
curiosity to him, nnd nothing more.
Accordingly he sold It to an In
dian trader for a few dollars, and
the trader, not much better In
formed, passed It on to an El Paso
denier for a few dollars.
The El Paso man, however, knew
that he had a valuable picture In
his hnnds. He sent It to New York,
where It was found to be a master
piece of religious pnlntlng, a prod
uct of the golden nge of Spanish
art, nnd It finally was sold to a
wealthy man for his private collec
tion, bringing a price of $40,000.
Humor agnin flew to Bluewater.
Treasure hunters, convinced anew
that the church treasure was con
cealed in or near the old adobe
ranch house, traveled from near and
far to search for it.
Hut the painting was all that has
ever been found, and the lost loot
of the Mexican cathedral still stays
hidden beyond the sight of man.
There Is other hidden treasure
of the same sort In Arizona. Once
In a while some fortunate person
accidentally finds some of it, to
prove that It really exists. For In
stance:
Joe Walsey, a cowboy, was riding
after stray cattle on the Box X
ranch In Graham county, Arizona,
in 1907. He happened to notice a
dead tree propped up by four large
rocks, with a shovel handle protrud
ing from the trunk of the tree.
Walsey dug below this monu
ment, and found an Iron chest con
taining old Spanish coins, worth
$40,000, and gold vessels whose val
ue could not be estimated on ac
count of their exquisite workman
ship.
• • •
H DESERT GOLD
—
T SIX-MILE station In the Cali
fornia desert, In the year 1894,
a prospector was found, old, tired,
and crazed from thirst. Ills uame
was Golden, and he carried with
him three large nuggets, whose
price lias been tixed at the odd sum
of $3,054. Borax wagon teamsters,
who discovered the old man, took
him to Mohave, and here he was
nursed back to a semblance of
health.
After Holder recovered Somewhat,
he tried to draw a map of the loca
tlon where he had found the ore.
He had been out of water for three
days, he said, and his burros could
go no farther, so he turned them
loose. He had climbed a hill, bod
seen some trees about five miles
away, and on descending the moun
tain In their direction he had found
a gravel bed full of nuggets.
Searchers went out to tind this
new location, guided by his story.
They found his burros, dead from
heut and thirst. They found the
hill he described, too, twenty-flve
miles from the nearest water at
Bed Bock. But no trees were vis
ible from its summit, and no gold
lay at its foot. Holder had wan
dered In mind as well as body, and
the place where he fouud his pre
cious handful of gold has never been
discovered.
Glittery Buttons
Add Luxury Touch
PATTER* 1 t»n
Do you need a young, soft-line frock
for happy social nours? Here’s one
that's extremely easy to make. Note
the casual spacing of glittery metal,
or sparkling crystal buttons at the
deep yoke, where a shirred sleeve
top cuts In unexpectedly; buttons
ngaln trim cuffs and back closing.
Definitely “new-season" from Its
snug, rolled collar to smartly gored
skirt. It’s best In sleek satin, or soft
crepe.
Pattern ‘2499 is available In sizes
14, 16, 18, 20, 32, 34, 36, 38, 40 and 42.
Size 16 tnkes 3% yards 39-Inch fab
ric. Illustrated step-by step sewing
Instructions Included.
SEND FIFTEEN CENTS (15c) In
coins or stamps (coins preferred) for
this pattern. Write plainly name, ad
dress and style number. BE SUItE
TO STATE SI/E.
Address orders to the Sewing Cir
cle Pattern Dept., 243 W. Seventeenth
St., New York City.
40 Famous “First Editions”
Are Found to Be Forgeries
The European book-collecting
world received a shock recently
when about 40 famous “first edi
tions,’’ which have been nccepted
as genuine In nil standard bibliog
raphies for 50 years, were found
to be forgeries.
In most of them, either the paper
or the type or both did not exist at
the time the books were supposed
to have been printed. And in some
cases the text was taken from re
vised editions.—Collier’s.
"I
Daily Dialogue
Dlerdre—Women do not cry at
weddings any more.
Aspasia—That mukes the bride
groom feel better. Those tears al
ways seemed to accuse him.
Bill Rendered
Kindly Old Man—And you say your
name Is Bill, son? Why were you
named that?
Boy—Because my father said 1
came on the first of the month.
Water Helps
The nice old gentleman stopped to
talk to the wee girl who was making
mud pies on the sidewalk.
“My goodness,” he exclaimed
“you’re pretty dirty, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she replied, “but I’m pret
tier clean.”
..
YOU LL FALL HARD
FbR VA/RlGLEy's
FLAVOR. I Aj
Kerns grow and thrive in sus
pended window baskets if soli is kept
moist and not allowed to dry out.
• . • •
’Keep a roll of glued paper and a
ball of twine in your kitchen to use
when tying and labeling bundles.
• • •
After removing fudge from the
stove, add half a teaspoon of baking
powder. It makes it fluffy.
* * *
To soften hardened putty, place
In boiling water and allow to stand
until water cools.
• • •
Do not keep cyclamens in too warm
a room. Too much heat causes the
blossoms to lose their firmness. Keep
soil about the roots quite damp.
• * •
A pail of sand should always be
kept near the furnace In the cellar.
Should a spark from the furnace
stnrt a blaze It may be quickly ex
tinguished with the sand.
• • •
Adhesive tai>e may be quickly and
painlessly removed from the skin If
softened with benzine. Saturate a
sponge with benzine and wash tape
with It.
* • *
Place a loaf of cake as near the
center of oven as possible. If placed
close to the firebox one side of cake
will rise higher than the other and
Is likely to burn.
• • •
Chilling, makes rolled cookie dough
firm and easy to roll without the ad
dition of extra flour.
• • *
Strips of orange peel coated with
melted dipping chocolate are deli
cious.
© Associated Newspapers.—WNU service.
STRATO RECORD IS
LIKELY TO STAND
FOR SOME TIME
The official altitude figure of 72,395
feet (13.7 miles) for the highest np
of the National Geographic Society
United States army stratosphere
(light of November 11, recently de‘
termlned by Nntlonal Bureau of
Standards calibration of the sealed
meteorograph, Is a record that will
probably stand for some time.
It Is higher by not quite a mile
than the unofficial figure for the Ill
fated Soviet balloon of 1934 that
crashed In landing with fatal result
to Its crew of three. It Is more than
two miles (11,158 feet) higher than
the official record set In 1933 by the
Settle-Fordney American flight, the
official mnrk of which wns 61,230.691
feet.
The routine flights of Instrument
carrying balloons used In weather
observations do not often reach
higher than the new record for man
carrying strato-balloons just an
nounced. Sounding balloons, or small
balloons that do not carry anything
but themselves aloft, often go higher
than the new world’s record. The
American record for these sounding
balloons dates from 1913 and Is 20
miles. The highest claimed Is 22
miles in Germany, but there is doubt
about these records, ns there are
theoretical reasons for doubting
whether balloons can rise much be
yond tibout 19 miles.
Rockets seem to be the best bet
for the future in attempts to probe
farther out In space. — Science
Service.
Turning-Back Point Is
the Measure of Success
On every hand we see people who
have turned back, people who had
pluck enough to begin things with
enthuslusm, but did not have grit
enough to carry them to a finish. The
point at which you are tempted to
turn back, the point when your grit
leaves you, will measure your achieve
ment power. Your ability to go on,
to continue after everybody else has
turned back, Is a good measure of
your possible success.
OWES ALL TO HER
“Is your husband a self-made
man?”
“No. I taught him to dance, to
golf and all he knows about bridge."
Mott Popular Book
School Visitor—So you like your
geography, do you?
Boy—Yes, It’s the only book that’s
big enough to hide a detective story.
