THE SILK ENIGMA

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 58, Issue 42, 29 November 1937, Page 7

THE SILK ENIGMA

By J. R. WILMOT

;! :: SERIAL STORY :: S

Copyright

CHAPTER XXIV. PRISONERS THREE. The Superintendent laughed. “It wouldn’t be difficult if we knew what we were about. All that I can tell you is that a large quantity of Suchow silk was stolen last night from Oxton’s stores and, at the moment we haven’t an inkling who stole it and where it might be.” “But this is terrible,” wailed Professor Kan Fu, in quite delightful English. “Already Sen Yat Soil may have found the answer.” “It would be a great help if I knew where to find this mysterious gentleman,” suggested, Beck, mildly. The two professors looked at one another anxiously. “That’s just what we don’t know,” Professor Karmen told him. “We thought that Scotland Yard . . .” “Could find a needle in a haystack,” supplied the Superintendent. “According to my information,” he went on, opening a folder and taking from it a foolscap document, “no Chinese alien of that name is known, to us. All I can suggest is that either he is registered under another name of else he came to London uninvited. You appreciate my difficulty, gentlemen?” Professor Karmen certainly appreciated it. Until Sen Yat Soh was given an address he must remain the evenelusive personality that he w'as throughout the Far East. Neither was it a comforting thought to Professor Kan Fu. His friend, Professor Karmen, had given him to understand that Scotland Yard could assuredly have put their fingers on the fellow immediately they knew whom they were looking for. “If it. will be any help to you,” Beck suggested, “I can arrange for both of you to inspect whatever stock of Suchow silk Oxton’s may still have, and of course, I’ll get our aliens officers on the hunt immediately, but they’re not going to thank me for doing that, believe me.” And with that the two professors took their departure. Philip Slater struggled desperately to roll himself off the electrified mattress, but it seemed as Though every wire that touched him had claws dragging him down with a fascinating affection. “Switch off!” The voice of Sen Yat Soh sped through the room like the crack of a rifle and Ling Foo, still standing beside the switch, released the handle and the torture mat went “dead.” Sen Yat Soh moved closer to the exhausted man and) the unconscious woman, but he seemed utterly oblivious of the woman. She might have been dead. He did not care. His narrow slits of eyes fastened themselves on the young man. » “Get up!” he commanded, peremptorily. From the tone of the Chinaman s voice Philip realised that this was no moment for heroics, and though his body felt as though it had been kicked all over, he struggled to his feet. “ Who are you and how did you get in here?” he demanded, rubbing his chin affectionately. “Does that matter ?” inquired Philip, glancing down towards tho still form of the woman. 1 “He is the man who came this morning, Excellency,” piped up Ling Foo. “1 fancy he is from Oxtons.” “Is this true?” screamed Sen Yat Soh.

“Perfectly.” “Take him away while I cool my fever,” announced the man, beckoning to Ling Foo. “I will see him later.” “But this—this woman,” Philip began to protest. “Surely you. are not ...” Sen Yat Soh paused on his way to the door and glanced back over his shoulder. “She is a woman who would search for youth that is lost,” he replied, enigmatically. When he had gone, Ling Foo touched the young man on the arm. “I will show you to your room,” he said, in a tone that might have been used by a hotel hall-porter. Philip had roused) himself out of his surprise. “You will, will you. Take that,” and Philip’s arm shot out to the man’s face, but his doubled fist struck nothing but the air. The next moment a grip of iron descended on the nape of his neck. Ling Foo had side-stepped with the expert agility of a boxer, but it was not Ling Foo who gripped the young man’s neck. It was another smaller—more hideous yellow man. And Philip was as helpless as ho had been last night when he had attacked the man in tho store. In this summary and utterly ignominous fashion he was frogmarched from tho room, along the landing and bundled into another room totally dark. A key snapped in the lock and he found himself alone. Ling Foo now busied himself with restoring Brenda Lennard to consciousness. He did it inartistically by dashing cold water into the woman’s face. Miss Lennard blinked, and when her eyes rested on Ling Foo’s face she gave a little scream and cowered back again against that horrible torture-impi egnated mattress. “It is well, Miss Lennard,” Ling Foo told her, politely. “When you are well enough I shall carry you to your room.” Brenda Lennard shuddered again. “No thank you,” she said, grimly. “J’ll walk.”

Phyllis Varley, meanwhile, had been summoned before Sen Yat Soli. The girl felt anything but cheerful. Sire had heard Brenda Lennard’s screams and knew that her turn came next. It was horrible; revolting. “Sit down, Miss Varley,” said Ben Yat Soh, indicating a chair. “I am in a difficulty. We have a visitor and I want you to tell me something about him . . . the truth, you understand.” For a moment the girl’s heart leapt with hope. But who is it?” she asked, excitedly. # “I have yet to learn his name. He is a young man from Oxtons. Why he is here, I know not, hut as you know I have ways of making tongues loosen.” “You mean Mr Slater. But that’s wonderful,” cried Phyllis. “You say lie’s here?”

Sen Yat Soli watched the girl, an evil leer on his lips. He nodded. “Yes, if that’s the young gentleman, he’s here, and I want you to tell me everything you know about him and particularly whether he knows anything about Chinese silk.” Phyllis was on her guard immediately. She had no idea how Phillip had found the house. But her next thought was not so hopeful. Perhaps Phillip had been brought here as she and Miss Leiinard had been. “I really don’t know very much about him,” she began; “that is, if it really is- Mr Slater. He’s on the office staff, but he comes into the shop occasionally otherwire I would know nothing about him at all.” “You lie!” exclaimed Sen Yat Soh. “You and he are lovers. \ our eyes speak more truly than your tongue. And being lovers you will have secrets. They are secrets I must know, and I must know them before to-morrow sundown. You will speak?” Phyllis felt herself trembling. What could she tell him but the truth. She knew nothing about all this silk mystery that he had prated about ever since he had brought her to the house. She couldn’t understand a word of it, and she doubted very much whether Philip knew, either. “I don’t know any more than what I’ve already told you,” she insisted. “Yet you lied to me about that silk,” he sneered. “You said it had been bought by Miss Lennard. I now know that she did not purchase any silk. What have you to say to that?” “I have nothing to say except that you drove me to it,” she said, hoarsely. “I gave you the first name and address that came to my head. 1 didn’t know that it would prove to he the name of an actual, person.” “Very well. You will go back to your room and see if Miss Lennard is well. I shall not need her again for a little while and I imagine she will be feeling a. little distressed after her electric tonic.” Ling Foo arrived in that mysterious way he always did arrive and conducted her from the room. (To he Continued.)