THE GRÈN GHOST

Star (Christchurch), Volume LXVI, Issue 20274, 7 April 1934, Page 25 (Supplement)

THE GRÈN GHOST

By 5

STUART MARTIN

(Author of “The Fifteen Cells,’’ “Babe Jardine,** “The Surf Queen” etc.)

CHAPTER XVll.—(Continued.) I By this time the house was awakening, and the lights in every room were being lit. One or two maids were at tlie front door, calling inquiries as to what was going on. A manservant appeared at Foster's elbow, armed with a stick, and at his heels came a youth, who looked after tjie garage. At Foster's orders they the man and bore him round * the back of the house and laid him on the floor of the kitchen. Foster bent down to examine bis wounds. It was at once apparent that the man was hopelessly shot up. His end was a matter of an hour or so at most. “One-eye, we'll have to notify the police—” He looked up. The mulatto was not at his side. But as one of the servants was going to carry out the order Oneeye spoke. “All right, doc. De police is on de way.’* “You telejihoncd, One-eyeV” “No, but dey is cornin’ quick.” He bent down to the dying man. “Say, yo\ What’s yo* name ?” “It don’t matter to you,” came the reply savagely. “You’re the blackamoor detective from Jamaica, ain’t you? I know you. And this is Foster —Dr. Foster, I suppose. All light, you won't hang me, anyway. I’m cheating you—” “Huh, Mist ah Hughes senior, yo’ keepin’ up de silly opposition to dc last—” “How do you know my name is Hughes ?” “Aw, dat's nuttin’ to what Ah know. Guess yo’ are de fadder ob de man we want. Guess yo* slid outen Jamaica mighty slick, hey? Got folks to tell de tale dat yo’ were drowned when Mistali Barron hit yo’ dat day up de mountains, didn’t yo’? Guess yo’ started de story dat he killed yo’ by pushin’ yo’ ober de cliff?” “What do you know about that?” “Guess Ah knows jest about as much as yo’ know, ole man. Say, Ah got yo’ cloak, an’ Ah got de mask yo’ was wear in*. Mighty fine trick to get dat Voodoo mask made and smeared wit’ luminous paint so’s it ’ud shine in do dark. Huh.” Foster glanced at One-eye inquiringly and the latter nodded. “Yep, Ah got it. Big mask, doc, all shinin’ wit’ luminous paint, done up in de best Voodoo way de papaloys deck themselves on festive occasions. Dat’s what de green ghost is—luminous paint! ” The End of Hughes Junior. Heavy footsteps were coming along the passage from the front door. Next moment an inspector and a constable made their appearance. They nodded to One-eye as if they had met before and Foster rapidly outlined the . happenings. The inspector was business-like and without fuss. “We’ve got a hand ambulance at the gate, sir. We’ll take him along right away. You will give us your statement later.” “Certainly.” As they hoisted the man up and were carrying him off, the inspector glanced admiringly at One eye. “See you later, Detective Uttock.” “Sure,” said One-eye, and shoved an oblong of chewing gum into his mouth. He tapped Foster’s shoulder. “We an’t finished yet, doc. We gotta get de son.” “Of course, but where—T” “Come.” Foster followed him to the front door. One of the house cars was drawn up, all humming reatfy for a run, its headlights streaming across the lawn. At the wheel sat Elsie Monteith. Foster stared. “Step in, doc.” Fester stepped in, the door banged, and they were away. “What does this mean, One-eye?” “It means, doc, dat Missy Monteit* is m a second in command fo’ de time bein’. Mighty smart gal, doc. She was at de telephone callin’ de police force soon as we started to chase de ghost. All had her ready fo’ that job. We were sittin’ in Missy Barron’s room. Missy Monteit’ was sittin’ in hers. Guess she got to de telephone on de jump. Ah tho’t we’d need de ambulance.” “Where are we going now?” “To catch de son ob a gun who was at de bottom ob dis mischief, doc. Missy Montiet’ knows hisn address in Lunnon. Guess he’s gone der in de little car he always hired when he and hisn fadder played de ghost.” “But the local police—” “Look back, doc.” Foster glanced over his shoulder. A car was pounding along in their wake, following their trail like a shadow. “Dat car’s got police in her, doc. S’all arranged. Yo’ bet. Good t’ing Missy Monteit’ coom to meet me at de boat. She tole me about hisn rooms in Lunnon. Got vo’ gun ?” “Oh, yes.” They raced up to London at top steep and drew up at a tall house in the neighbourhood of Victoria. Elsie Monteith leaped from the car as the police vehicle drew up. The building was one of a block of private suites, and they went up the stairs noiselessly. In front of a door on the second landing Elsie Monteith stopped and produced a key which One-eye took from her. Behind them several policemen were standing ready, their truncheons in their hands. “Got yo’ fiashlumpsT” “Yes, sir.” In a moment the door was open. They rushed in. Another door faced them, but they broke it open with their shoulders. Their flashlamps spread a flood of light in the dark room* “Hands up, Hughes!” Standing in a corner of the sitting room William Hughes faced them. He held a gun in his left hand, and his face was ferocious. “Stand back!” he roared. “I’ll shoot!” Then, as they hesitated for a brief moment, lie caught sight of Elsie Monteith behind Foster. “So I have you to thank for this, Elsie! And there you are, Dr. Foster! And you, too, blackamoor!” “Surrender!” cried Foster. “Resistance is useless, Hughes. Your father is done for— ’’ “Is he dead ?” “He was dying when we left Shirley. Come, hand over your gun—” “Step forward, Elsie. I want to say something to you first.” The girl stepped forward from behind Foster; but as she did so, Hughes’ right hand flashed above liis head; and up in front of Elsie Monteith, Foster’s gun swung up quickly. “Drop wliat’s in your hand; Hughes!”

Back went Hughes’ hand in the act of throwing, and at that moment two revolvers roared; Foster and One-eye had fired at the same moment.

A yell of pain rang out and a blaze of coloured light flashed over and around Hughes’ figure, and his body was enveloped in a scorching brilliance. He fell, writhing on the floor. The policemen were upon him in a trice. They rolled him in a carpet to extinguish the blaze; but it was a corpse that they unrolled; a frightful, seared, discoloured object, burned by the vitriol from the broken bottle he had meant for Elsie Monteith. And through his hand and wrist were two bullet holes telling liow accurate and how providential had been the aim of the two revolvers. CHAPTER XVIli. Sea Voyage for Two. The police inspector carefully applied blotting paper to Dr. Sidney Foster’s signature at the end of a long statement. They were in the doctor’s apartments in London. One-eye was busy with his pen knife cutting a notch in his cudgel by the fireplace, his jaws mechanically “Thanks for the affidavit, doctor,” said the inspector. “This case lias been one of the queerest I’ve ever touched, and had it not been for you and Detective Uttock I doubt if it would have arrived at so successful a conclusion. You are joining vour ship to-morrow, I believe?” “Yes,” replied Foster dully. “I’m glad we got a confession from the elder Hughes before he died,” went cu the inspector, “though he said it wasn’t a confession, but a story of how he had tried to pull his biggest bluff, the only one in which lie had failed. He admitted that lie and his son had planned to get a hold of the late Mr. Barron by the trick of falling over the cliff. They had stage-managT'd it very well, you will agree. He also admitted that Miss Barron's brother had been killed by a prick from one of the hollow sticks, and the bottle of strychnine had been placed on the table to give the idea of suicide. It appears the effect of the poison they used was similar to that of strychnine. The dog had been killed the same way. But I couldn’t get from him tlie name of the poison. It would save a lot of trouble if 1 could get that.” Foster rose and went into an adjoining room, from which lie brought a small vial which he held up to the light. “I can give you the name of the poison, inspector. It comes from the coral snake, the most terrible little reptile that lives in Central America and some parts of the tropics. There is no antidote for it unless the wound is treated immediately after the bite, and then not always. I know. I’ve had some.” The inspector scribbled a few words in bis notebook, and held out his hand. “I wish you the best, doctor. I can’t tell you how glad I am to have met you.’’ He turned to One-eye. “Detective Uttock, 1 have orders from the department to say that they deeply appreciate your abilities and will recognise that appreciation in definite form. Your methods are different from ours, but, the chief says truly, you get you# “Yo’ bet!” said One-eye laconically. When the inspector had gone Foster slumped into a chair and frowned. Oneeye was finishing cutting a notch in his cudgel. He glanced at the doctor. “Doan git moody, doc. Y’o’ ain’t gotta reason. What ’bout dat offer from Kingston, suh ?” A cablegram on the table from the administration of Jamica had asked Foster to accept an official post as medico-legal adviser in the Indies. Foster had not answered it.” “Guess yo’ know dat Cap’n Swatlilin’ ’as come back, doc. Missy Barron takin’ de trip on de Meridian fo’ her health. Guess dey’ll be wed one day soon, suh. Hey ?” Foster remained silent. He knew Captain Swathling had returned. Neither that nor the high official post was troubling him. He had already sent his congratulations ard best wishes to the captain and Maud. These things had passed from his thoughts; and when they passed Elsie Monteith had filled them. After his explosion of anger there had come upon him a kind of relapse, a haunting terror that he had injured the idol he worshipped. He recollected the scene when Hughes had tried to disfigure her with vitriol. As she had stepped in front of him the gust of her dress had aroused his emotion. She had smiled to him when he and One-eye saved her; and her smile had been invincible, containing a charm that had made him stagger. Her blonde hair, which had become darker since he had first met her, seemed to light up with a strange beautv that was conquering and became a halo. Had she not worked side by side with him and One-eye in the last few days; da3 r s when she must have suffered at the thought of his ferocious attack upon her? One-eye looked up. “She’ll be heah in a minute, doc, ole “She? Who do von mean?” cried Foster, agitated and startled at the mulatto’s voice. One-eye continued in an even tone. “Doc, yo’ shouldn’t take too much notice ob den agencies dat wanna give vo’ what dey t’ink yo’ wan’. Most ob dat stuff' yo’ got in sheets is junk, doc—jest junk. Supposition, doc. Dere ain’t anything in it dat doan have two meanings. Ah bin to dat agency, doc. Guess ah gib dem a fright.” Foster was trembling and his *eyes glared at One-eye. “Can’t a gal have frien’s wit’out folks jumpin’ to conclusions, doc? Say, df clock is slow.” He rose to his feet. The sound of a knock on the door penetrated the room. Somehow Dr. Sidney Foster knew that Fate was oil the other side of the door. One-eye strode over and threw it open. Elsie Monteith stood there, her face bright, her eyes fixed tenderly on Foster. His ljeart felt as if it was bursting. One-eye glanced at them with a queer smile on his mahogany features, a soft smile of infinite comprehension. “Guess yo’ up to time, Missy,” he said in a low tone. “Yo’ passage is fixed on de Meridian.” Aloud he 6aid: “Doc, guess all’ll go an’ see ’bout when us all gotta get aboard. De Administration ’specs yo’ t'take dat job in Jamaica, suh. An’ so do ah. We got a lot t’de togedder out dere, ’Yo’ an’ me.” He drew the door gently, after him a» he went out. (The End.)