The Syracuse Journal, Volume 28, Number 6, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 6 June 1935 — Page 6

6

Yu’an Hee See Laughs

CHAPTER Vlll—Continued Haig mounted the steps and walked aloof the uncarpeted passage, pulling the curtain aside; he stumbled over the man who sat there . . . and a meerschaum pipe fell to the floor and smashed. “Inshallah !” groaned the owner. Haig stooped swiftly. “Koeelr by car in five minutes,” he whispered. “House of Dr. Julian Hess.” “Offer me money .”’ came a muffled whisper. Haig put his band into his pocket, when: “dive him no money!” came an angry shriek from Hassan es-Suk at his elbow. “He Is a lump of mud, a son of filth, an unutterable liar! It was a trick!" Cursing, opening and closing his talon-like hands, old Hassan es-Suk poured forth a torrent of what Haig divined to be brilliant Invective. The seated man shrugged resignedly. Hassan es-Suk pushed Haig forward. “A spy—” he whispered in his ear—“a dirty police pig! Begone—quickly!" • •••••• Eileen sat on the edge of the disordered lacquered bed. her teeth tightly clenched. She had completed atf exploration of her prison. There was a large wardrobe in which, carefully hung, were the clothes she had worn In Port Said. There was an extrava* gantly appointed bathroom. She had succeeded in recalling everything of that dim past out of which she had awakened In this preposterous place, up to the very moment of entering the shop of Mohammed. She recalled seeing Dawson Haig outside. It was then she accepted the invitation of the aged Arab to explore the treasure house beyond. Here her memory terminated with the recollection of a sharp pain In her shoulder,.a sickly sweet smell, and a sense of sudden weakness. . . . How long had •lapsed since then? Her position was desperate. The flower-covered balcony overlooked a beautiful garden: The prospect was terminated by a high white wall, like the wall- of an ancient fortress. Something told her that the ground fell away beyond that wall, and that further beyond yet was the sea. Where was she? And where was Dawson Haig? Had they . . . ? The door opened, and a stout and kindly looking French maid came In, locking the door behind her. Eileen was breathing very rapidly. “Mam'selle is frightened.” said the woman. “No no—” meeting that fixed, angry stare—“it is no good, cherie. I am Celeste.” she went on. opening the wardrobe and taking out Eileen's suit In ihe most natural manner In the world “You have been sick—l know that sickness—l have had it.” Celeste swiftly glanced up, high In one wall to a llttm wooden trap. It was closed. “Cherie.” she said, “trust me, 1 am your friend. You understagßL Perhaps I can help. Don't answer." She bustled busily Into the bathroom. •.’Come, mamselle,” she called. “You will l>e yourself again after your bath.” Eileen walked across to the bathroom. The Frenchwoman closed the door as site entered. “1 know how It has happened to you. cherie,” came her voluble whisper. “It hapiwned so to me. also. Where were you when last you remember?” "In Port Said.” said Eileen miser ably. “Ah!" The. French woman nodded comprehendlngly. “1 was at Cairo when he saw me But that was many years ago!” “But tell me. please, where am 1 now?” “in Yemen, cherie.” A large strong arm was slipped maternally about the girl's shoulders. She was pressed to an ample breast. “You have courage, great courage—l see It In your face. And now Is the time for couragecourage not to fight.” Eileen began to feel that she had known this singular woman all her life. “What do you mean. Celeste?” site a«ked. “What Is this place—where am I?" “You are In Arabia, poor baby. Down In there—” she pointed vaguely—“ta a little town that no one ever heard of. Beyond la the lied sen. Here behind us Is desert—-desert—desert—and then ... lleera.” “But this house? Who does it belong tor “It Is the house of A swam I Pasha.” “But I don't know Aswami Pasha!" “Once. It Is nearly ten years ago. 1 did not know him. cherie. He Is richvery rich! But come, cherie. Slip your robe off. This Is the time for cunning; But be thankful that 1 am*with you.” Eileen threw one white arm around the Frenchwoman's neck. This strange character, with her bright, kindly eyes, was a rock of refuge. "Oh. Celeste. You are not going to leave me?” “I shall be in the bedroom, and when you are dressed I will bring your luncheon.” Celeste hugged the frightened captive tightly, and went out closing the bathroom door. Shuddering. Eileen dropped the strange robe which bad enveloped her when she bad awakened, and stepped Into the bath. Behind what looked like the grating of a ventilator, high in the bathroom wall, two points of light guttered and -disappeared. Yu'an Hee See walked slowly out of the cupboard-room above onto the mahogany floor of the salon ‘ which adjoined IL He nodded slowly, as one who has clinched a satisfactory bargain. And, crossing to the door, he biased softly.... CHAPTER IX — Dawson Haig spent part of that night to the largo caravanserai of Bir SZSL' £ £ SU2X»TXnS • tow’ r z^ F bsSrsii’T l i£d bod. At daybreak they took the rood agate, aaaMgswor aaa*.

By SAX ROHMER Copyright by sax Rohmer. WXU Servlc*.

He was taken straight to the house of Doctor Hess, a small villa looking out upon a sallless sea. The doctor's name appeared upon a neat brass plate beside his door, so that be was presumably in practice. Doctor Hess rose from behind a table at which he was seated, smiled significantly, and held out his hand. Dawson Haig caught his breath. The stout and prosperous looking Hess was a Turk! Nodding, Haig handed him the letter received from Hassan es-Suk. The doctor glanced at It, then from a drawer took out a third envelope identical In appearance, and passed it to Haig. He now spoke for the first time. "You are the last to arrive, Joseph." He spoke in French! A wave of relief swept over the listener. “So 1 understand, Doctor. But” (a sudden idea entered his brain) “I think Lent Chow and Frans cannot be far ahead.” Doctor Hess smiled even more broadly. “Nearly eight hours,” he replied. "Convey to the Chief my best wishes and assurances. If you will follow my servant, he will direct you to the* quay." The "letter of travel,” addressed as before “To Joseph.” read “You will proceed by motorboat and report. Chief.” Hhlg's respect for the efficiency of the Egyptian police service was’increased as he followed the servant down rough stone steps to a little quay against which a battered- but seaworthy motorboar was tied up; a thir-ty-eight-foot cruiser which he guessed concealed powerful engines under that dilapidated hull. . . . An aged mendicant was seated at the foot of these steps. He grasped Haig's hand. “Bakshish! bakshish!” he whined. Haig paused—looked down. Instantaneously the nut-cracker features were relaxed. He saw a young face under the old mask. “Destination unknown!” he whispered. “Don't sail yet. Inspector. . . . It*s Impossibly to cover you!” came a swift reply. Then, loudly. “Bakshish! bakshish !" . Haig dropped a coin, and the clutching fingers were relaxed. “Impossible to cover me," he thought. Routine did not demand that he should sal! for this unknown place and “report!” Common sense was against it. Further co-operation with his Egyptian colleagues became imi>ossible. But beckoning out of the haze over the sea was a dream-image of Eileen. Some stupendous plot was working slowly to its culmination. Even now he had not grasjH‘d IL But his auspicious were horrible. His usefulness might he ended if he should be cut off from his allies. But. . . Eileen! He must find her at all costs —be near to her. Some means of communication he would surely find. . . . In a long, rectangular room on the first floor of the house on the hill Y.u'an Hee See's rogues were gathered. The Wasp was excitedly arguing with the oneeyed Chinaman and Franz, the Brandenburger. Len Chow was deep In conversation with Jo Luug and a villainous-looking Arab known as AIL At a table Doctor Oestier sat. apparently pleading with the gloomy, debauched Maclles. t’ncle Tom and Kid Brown were drinking stout from tankards. There were a dozen other faces which must have been recognisable byanyone who had been privileged to enter that room in the Restaurant Suleiman Bey to Baris on a certain night when Dawson Haig had sat waiting below. Wine flowed freely. Remarks were being shouted tn many tongues when, suddenly. Doctor < tastier stood up. “Orders!” he cried. The clamor subsided—died away—a curtain was drawn aside, and Aswami Tasha entered. He was greeted with a roar of welcome. He- smiled, and nodded his handsome bead to right and left. Then be raised both hands—silence fell again. “My friends,” he said, “yon speak many tongues, but of you. 1 think, a little English, so I will address you In English. Tonight you have been entertained and I trust are very happy. But after one more drink all round, you wtli go to your quarters ami you will sleep; because tomorrow Is the day for which we have been called together again from all over the world. ... by Mr. King." He paused. The silence was so com plete that men could be heard breathing. “Every man knows his job and what Is expected of him," Aswami went on "Every man knows also what is coming to him If he falls. You have enjoyed success to the past. You have all been made rich by the man you serve. * If you are all poor again tonight, this is your own concern. Another chance is being given to you. And this time the share-out will be enormous.” As he paused again, an excited murmur rose. “Enormous." he repeated. “I need not tell you what the folly of one man may mean to all of ns. Failure is ab

THE STORY FROM THE OPENING CHAPTER Matt Kearney, young American liriu in Landon, says good-by to Me slater Eileen, on board the Wallaroo bound for Colombo. The Wallaroo la conveying £1,000,000 in gold to Australia. Kearney meets Inspector Dawson Hal*, of Scotland Tard. very much in love with Eileen. Haig. convinced opium is concealed in Jo Lung's warehouse. delegates Kearney, with Detective Norwich, to visit the place and find out what he can. While there Kearney picks up a notebook. Tu'an Hee See. whom Had* has lon* been seeking as the leader of a band of international thieves, ie at Jo Lung*a Discovering the tam of Ms notebook, he sends two of his followers after Norwich and Kearney, one of whom ho realfceee must have picked it up. Norwich la found murdered. Hal* is pumtled over cryptic notes in the book. While ho ts poring over them, a weird creature eaters. seises the book, and escapes. Matt's story of hearing horrible laughter at Jo Lung’s aaUsOee Had* his quarry was there, ho recognising the peculiar malignancy of Yuan's laugh. At Marseilles the inspector boards the Wallaroo, disguised. Krom radio meseagee he decodes, be realises passengers on beard are members of Yu*an's gen* and that they have recognised Mm. A Chinaman tries to throw Hal* overboard but goes over himself At Port Said Haig, trailing KHooa. te lured Into a “bath of teeth ora.** EUeea disappears. Haig escapes the deadly trap, and shoots Joseph, one of the plotters. KUeea. drugged. regains conetiViUsneoo 1* hen flijuertera- Haig talma Joseph's papers, and reports Eileen's Mdaapin* to the British consul. Tu'an and Aswami Pasha. Ms Ueutenaat, intend to capture or Mak tbo Wallaroo. UWhg Joseph's erode* fiefs, Haig MMbIMMI MB XMMfes

ways paid for here to one way. and to one way only. But failure tomorrow would certainly mean death for every man concerned. We shall sail at four o'clock to the afternoon; every man jack of us with a noose around his neck —and so every man will watch his neighbor. And a short shrift, say L to any backsliders.” A great roar, like that of a pack of wolves suddenly aroused, greeted bls last words. Aswami waved bls hand, and went out, sped by a hoarse cheer. Doctor Destler followed. Kid Brown stumbled across the room to the drunken Maclles’ side. “Is It an English ship, mate?" he whispered. The Scotsman's bleary eyes fixed themselves upon him. There was an interval, and then “I ken it Is. I've worked out a’ the poseetion—an’ this will be the old Wallaroo, thirteen thousand tons, out frt>’ London to Brisbane.” Aswami Pasha sac behind a large writing table. Kid Brown, battlescarred. stood before him. “Listen!” said Brown. “I’ve been your bodyguard for three years, and I've done well out of IL There’s been some bloody dirty work, though I say so. but I've done it! The German steamer was a bit ’ot. but I never liked Germans. The nigger trade don't worry me. The American yacht was fair game. Capitalists and their fancy dreams ought all to go the same way. But this 'ere English liner—l don’t want to go tomorrow. . . Aswami Pasha was thinking. “This man has been talking to Maclles. He must come tomorrow. Otherwise he will be dangerous. Maclles must come also—but for the last time.” “It is In orders that you join us. Brown." he said coldly. “Therefore I have no choice but" to refer your protest to—” Kid Brown sprang forward and grasped the outstretched hand. “I'll go!” he whispered hoarsely. “Tonight," Aswami continued, “the Armenian, Joseph, from Port Said, joins us, taking the place—at the same pay—of tbe Portuguese sent to us by Polodos. 1 knew, when 1 interviewed him in Paris, that this man from Stamboul would fail us, as be had failed us before. Very well. You have taken a gross liberty tonighL You shall have a chance to make good. I have to go with Mr. King to the sheds. See this fellow Joseph, and instruct him in his duties. Remember —with the Jackal, he will be in sole charge, outside, during our absence. You will be responsible. . . Kid Brown turned and made for the door. “1 may collect women. Brown,” came the smooth voice, “but 1 study men.” And to a small room situated in a wing of the rambling mansion, Maclles was kneeling beside a neat bed trying to pray. There is no. more desperate character than that of a religious man gone wfong. And James Malcolm Maclles. ex-chief engineer of a famous liner, was a deeply religious man whom an Irreligious woman had driven down to hell. In drink he was a devil incarnate. And he wanted to pray for strength to remain sober long enough to save his poor soul from this last black sin. But never a word would come. . . . • • • • • • • As the motorboat swung into the reef-sheltered harbor, the truth leaped at last to Dawson Haig s brain. . . . A suspicion, which for weeks pastlonger; perhaps since that day when the existence of the former Marquis Yu'an Hee See had thrust itself upon his. attention—had clamored for recognition. at last drove home. . . . Drug smuggler—slave dealer—receiver of stolen property—yes! but at last the whole scope of this devil's activities presented itself like a revelation. ... Yu'an Hee See was a pirate—a modern idrale!—holding strictly to the motto of that ghastly trade, “Dead dm n tell no .nta<” This was the man. with his dumnat le organization, in whose power Eileen tax ’ His body was icily cold but his brain raced like an engine. He clenched his fists. What should he do? What could be do? Where did his duty Bel He had deliberately snapped tbe link between himself and official support. He was alone—alone against an organised group of absolutely callous scoundrels—operating under the orders of the most evil man that ever came out of Asia. Tbe whole ghastly conspiracy became an open book; all his past knowledge of the group, clues which had led nowhere—suspicions at which tbe chief had laughed. .. . Eileen! Eiieen be could not think about and remain sane. Turning to tbe taciturn negro who accompanied him. be asked. “Do we go far?" He fully appreciated tbe position ot Joseph to tbe scheme of things. Joseph was a nominee of the old villain. Mohammed, at Port Said. He had been given a chance to prove himself.

SYRACUSE JOURNAL

Therefore, he was about to be received by—whom? Surely not by the man who laughed! No. Yu’an Hee See was too cunning for thaL He would be met by some chief of staff. A horrible Idea flashed through his mind—Polodos! The Greek unmistakably was a man with an excellent brain; a man of culture. And It was Polodos who had taken charge in Limehouse during the critical hours which preceded the sailing of tbe Wallaroo. He remembered how be had cudgeled his brains for an explanation of ■where the leakage had occurred between Scotland Yard and Sydney. It was painfully clear now. The conslguKy/k ft Kid Brown, Battle-Scarred, Stood Before Him. ment of drugs—a minor matter —bad been removed, because at the last moment this greater scheme had suggested Itself to the master mind! “There,” the negro replied, and pointed. Ahead .on the right, a long high wall began. Beyond it. where the negro pointed, he saw twinkling lights. There massive gates heavily reinforced with scrolled ironwork, openea onto a court) ard. A big negro in uniform stepped forward and a quick interchange of remarks, meaningless to the listener, took place between Haig's guide and the guardian of the gate. He was ushered into a carpeted and well-fuj?nlshed room. The guide disappeared. But the man in uniform stood j before him. “Chief engaged." he said. In his thick negroid voice. “Some one see you presently. Have a drink?” “Thanks," said Haig drily. “Have you got a whisky and soda?” The man grinned and disappeared. Dawson Haig looked about him, weighing his chances. This was headquarters —Yu'an Hee See's base! “The girl is safely on her way," Joseph had said: undoubtedly on her way here. Tfie negro returned carrying a tray, upon which was a bottle of whisky, a siphon of soda water, and a cut-glass tumbler. He placed this upon a low table before Haig, grinned again, and withdrew. Haig mixed himself a stiff drink, took a sip, and wondered. What action was to be looked for from a modern and highly efficient pirate when, to his own headquarters, he found himself confronted, unexpectedly, by a detective inspector of the Criminal Investigation department? At that moment entered a bullnecked deep-chested man. wearing a gaily colored pull-over, gray flannel trousers, and gymnasium shoes. His low skull was closely cropped, and his face bore the scars of battle. “My G—d!" Haig thought “1 had overlooked him!" This was the man to whom be haQ spoken outside tbe ' Restaurant Suleiman Bey in Paris! No glimmer of recognition showed itself uj»on the man's brutal face. “Hello, mate!” was his greeting. He glanced at a sUp of paper he held in one large, muscular band. “You’re Jo- J seph Rasta. Got your letter?” “Here it to" “I’m tbe Kid.” the other replied. “You speak good Engilsh for an Armenian.” “I've lived In England." Haig explained. The Kid whistled shrilly, and the negro appeared at once. "Another glass." he directed, lighted a cigarette, and thoughtfully regarded the Dev arrlvoL “You look pretty useful.'’ he conceded. “The Chiefs engaged to Is ’alrem—so you get your orders from me. I'm first lieutenant —see?" The negro returning with a glass, the Kid half Ailed it with whisky, to which he added a dash of soda water. -You're the garden watchdog," he went •m. -Seer * \ 1 don't think 1 do," Haig confessed. “Well what you got to do ta to patrol tbe gardens, 'specially the 'alrem garden, and watch the you-nlcks.” “Eunuchs!” -Yes, Joseph, you-nlcks. They ain't like you an' me. They can be bought over. See. mate? If you pipe * eat to tbe garden—sboot 1L Don't shoot a you-nick or a monkey or a parrot, or you’re for 1L But anything else that moves—shooL Now I’ll Interduce you to your new pal—name of tbe Jackal—and show you round. .. .” • • • •. • • • ♦W Eileen every day to that tee* quered room- was a week of suffering, •ithnngh dfiesto showed a soHcltoda for the girl’s comfort With a ctence of her eloquent eyes and a shrug, Cetaeto bad conveyed the news bocaiM aware that the aeroU-work vOntilatora were really hidden (TO ME COimfUSD/

Canadian Sourdoughs Seek Legendary Cavern of Gold One of the most amazing gold hunts in Canada's mining history Is planned by Alberta prospectors. Without proof that It even exists, hardened sourdoughs are planning to hunt the many hills of the White Court area tor the legendary “gold cache" ot Old Moostas. seventy-nine-year-old Indian, around whose gnarled figure a legend of fabulous riches and superstition was weaved by prospectors several years ago. At that time he saved a tribe of Indians from starvation by bringing back a "bag of gold” from the secret cache in the hills. Moostas believed that the gold was put in the cache by the “Great Spirit" for use only in time of dire need, and died without revealing where it was. and refusing to tell how he found it The cache is believed to He among the hills in the White Court district It is described as a “prospector’s dream—a cave lined with pure gold.” The legend is that although Moostas knew of the existence of the cache for years, he visited it only once. Several years ago. when an Indian tribe in White Court district

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faced starvation. Old Moostas hitched up two ponies and went into the hills. Two days later, bo walked Into a trading post at White Court, dumped a “poke” of gold nuggets on tbe counter and bought out the store. He distributed the food and other goods among th? starving Indians, and then retired to a lazy existence on the Indian settiemenL Then started a long battle ot wits between prospectors and the old Indian. For years white men tried to wrest the secret from him. They plied him with questions and made many enticing offers, but the old In-

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dlan rebuffed them with stoical alienee. For months bls every movement away from camp was closely watched, but Moostas never visited the cache again..

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