The Gorgon

Waikato Times, Volume 108, Issue 18166, 3 November 1930, Page 12

The Gorgon

1 Serial Story 1 * ' 7 ' ■“"“

I I joj (By J. Lindsay Hamilton.) §1 - (All Rights Reserved.) «

CHAPTER I. The Millionaire’s Mummy. Colonel Dainton, late of tile Indian Army, paused as he entered the eminent nerve specialist’s consultingroom and bowed stiffly. “It is good of you to see me on so short notice, Dr. Farrar,” he said, with gz’ave courtesy. “You must be an exceedingly busy man in these strenuous times.” Dr. Farrar smiled cordially. “You are James Rowson’s brother-in-law, I believe. I have heard him speak of you.” His keen grey eyes scanned the colonel’s stalwart figure. “What can I do for'you? You hardly look like a patient, if you will forgive me saying so.” 4 “It Is about my brother-in-law," said Colonel Dainton with a worried frown. “He is missing. I understand he always made a point of calling on you every time he was in London.” Dr. Farrar sat up with sudden Interest. “Missing? What makes you think so?” h easked with raised eyebrows. “Isn’t that his natural state? Here to-day and gone to-morrow, and no one knows where until he drops in unexpectedly from some remote corner of the globe.” “No one knows that better than I do,” his visitor answered, a trifle primly. “I haven’t seen him for years. He seldom deigns to pay us even a flying visit. He and I have never been on very friendly terms. The way he leaves his daughter with friends in New York has always irrilated me. I suppose he is w'orth something like a cool million. Yet he spends his time like a second Wandering Jew, confound him!” “I see," said the doctor quietly. “You have some tangible reason, then, for believing that this last lapse of his is different?”

“I have,” he retorted grimly. “Two months ago I had a letter from him—the. first he has writte nme for years. There is a significance in that alone. He announced his intention of staying with my daughter and me for a few days on his return from Egypt. He was coming on the next boat. I gathered there was something of extreme importance he intended to confide to me, something vital to the welfare of his daughter Celia. There was an underlying note of deep anxiety in the letter. He seemed to be afraid that something might prevent him from reaching me. I ought to have realised this sooner, but I was too angry at first at his breach of faith. But now I am desperately anxious. In spite of his wildness Jim would never wantonly let me down. It struck me that if he arriver safely in ' London he might have called to see you.”

“'He did,” replied Dr. Farrar calmly. “He came to consult me about his health some six weeks ago. But I hardly think you have any cause for alarm. He may. have changed his plans at the last moment and decided to leave for New York at once and see his daughter himself.” “Then he did call on you? I thought so." The Colonel’s tone was challenging. Dr. Farrar looked up sharply and seemed about to speak, but changed his mind.

“He certainly did not sail for New York,” the Colonel went on. “I don’t believe he ever intended to. I happen to know that he ■ had made arrangements with his bankers to draw a fantastically large sum of money on arrival in London. The money has been drawn, but what on earth he wanted it for I can’t conceive.”

Dr. Farrar was unmistakably surprised at this piece of information. “Very odd,” he remarked thoughtfully. “Perhaps I had better tell you all I know, and if I can help you then in any way you have only to ask. I think I ca naccount for.the note of fear in his letter. He came to me in a shocking state of health, nerves all gone to pieces. He seemed convined he was being followed and asked me several times to see if there was anyone skulking in the street. He was, for the most part, incoherent; but I formed the opinion that he must have gone through some unpleasant experience that had left its His fear was but a reactionary symptom of shock—a very common occurrence in my experience.

"I managed to calm his sufficiently at length, but he Refused to explain, and I did not consider it advisable to press the matter in his present state. Before leaving he asked me to take charge of a few curios for him until he was able .to make arrangements for their removal -to America. He had, in fact, already ordered them to be sent up to my house. "The one thing he seemed most anxious about was a mummy. I dabble in Egyptology a little myself. Perhaps that is why he left it in my care.”

“A mummy?" exclaimed Colonel Dainton. “Good heavens 1 What a rum taste.”

“Would you care to see it? Come throug hinto the library.”

He >led the •. way into a long, sombrely-furnished' room. In a large recss at one end o fthe room a sarcophagus stood open. It w»as a massive affair' yet not so much in height as in width, and the reason was apparent as soon as one perceived the ape-like proportions of its occupant. It was more like a gigantic gorilla than a man. The chest and shoulders were enormous and the .arms drooped forward almost to the knee. The bestial shap eof the skull heightened the impression, the broad cheekbones projecting sharply upwards, the forehead receding, the cavities of the eyes deep sunk —a hideous figure in its faded brown wrappings. “What a ghastly atrocity 1” said Colonel Dainton with a shudder. “A unique specimen,” murmured the Doctor with pride. He went on to speak technically of its many remarkable qualities, its unusual physique and its wonderful state of preservation. He waxed enthusiastic, but Colonel Dainton was not listening. He stood gazing at the thing, fascinated by its ugly spell, held as it were against his will in the presence of something unclean, unspeakably evil. The creature seemed almost to live. He caught himself watching it expectantly, imagining the gentle rise and fall of the ribs in the rhythm of breathing, more ready to believe in his own impossible impression than in the evidence of his eyes.

With a grunt of irritation at his imaginative folly, he turned away and addressed Dr. Farrar stiffly. • “If you- can tell* me no more, I

won’t intrude further on your valuable_time, Dr. Farrar.” “Nothing at all," he answered quietly, “But I may be able to help you in your inquiries. Have you still got his letter by the way?” he asked Visually. “Two heads are better than one, you know.”

"There seemed to be no point in keeping it,” said the Colonel with a shrug. "I simply made a note of certain details and then burnt it.”

“You will call in the police, I suppose ”

“I hardly know What to do,” replied Colonel Dainton with a troubled frown. “I don’t think.l shall yet, at any rate. There is so little definite evidence to support my suspicions. Jim may turn up y<j,t, and I should only look a fool for my trouble. I haven’t even told my daughter, Helen, yet. I don’t won’t to worry her unnecessarily.”

“No, no, of course not," agreed Dr. Farrar quickly. “Don’t tell her or anyone else until something more definite is known. Rely on me absolutely for all the help you may need. I shall be more than glad to give It.”

He rang the bell and a man-ser-vant entered silently. Colonel Dainton noted with faint surprise that he was an Arab. But what a giant, what breadth of shoulder, and what hands. A fine specimen of a man, yet the' face was blank with ■ the pathetic vacancy of an idiot. The Doctor gave instructions for his car to be brought round. “My faithful Bedouin, Abdul,” he explained. “He is dumb, poor fellow, and not quite normal. But he is a splendid servant. Can I give you a -lift on your way? No? Ah welll GGod-bye. I think you are quite right to keep it to yourself for a time.”

As Colonel Dainton made his way towards St. John's Wood, he grew more and more impatient. The Doctor’s injunction to keep the whole affair secret annoyed him. Confound the manl It was none of his business. Rank impertinence he called it. There and then he resolved to talk. It all over with Helen at once. Her quick ‘ mind might see some light where he himself had failed. CHAPTER 11. \ The Missing Letter. Helen Dainton was in high spirits. There was nothing unusual in that. But to-day she felt extraordinarily happy. Perhaps ’it was the crisp wintry air that sent her spirits soaring up. Or it may have been that perfectly sweet little hat that was partly responsible-. It was a daring, swashbuckling little hat in jade green, slashed with silver, and she was wearing it for the first time. Who knows? Perhaps the new tenant of the flat above may have been partly responsible for her lively spirits. -He certainly looked nice and big and interesting, and she was sufficiently feminine to be curious about him.

She laughed when she recalled his look of startled admiration the first time she had whirled past him down the hall. It was such genuine admiration, so delightfully unconcealed, yet free from any offensive assurance.

Humming gaily she opened the inner door of the flat. The outer door which was usually kept open during the day had swung to. It opened outwards into the hall. Helen raised one foot, and with a vigorous kick sent it flying back, but only halfway, for it came into violent contact with something solid, something that swore softly and convincingly: the Holy Holocaust! —Stars! — Millions of ’em I" It was the man from the flat above, and it was his nose that had stopped the door in its hectic flight. Helen wanted to laugh and yet felt aghast. She contrived to express a little of both in her apology. "Ao-er!" she gasped, and suddenlyrealised that some apology was due. “I am so sorry you were there.” Her victim regarded her dazedly'. “Another star,” he murmured. “Who wouldn’t be an astronomer? After all, what’s a nose more or less?”

Helen saw the blood pouring from his nose and was all womaniy r concern at once.

“Oh! I am sorry. Do come in quickly and bathe it,” she urged repentantly. Nothing loth, Peter Southwark surrendered himself to her tender care. He would not have missed this for worlds.

“It’s awfully good of you,” he remarked a few minutes later, as he dabbed the damaged organ with a piece of lint. “Yes. Isn’t it?” she laughed. “But you were going out, weren't you?” he asked anxiously. “I was,” she admitted. “But I couldn’t now, could I, with your blood on my hands?” She laughed gaily and held up one hand the his inspection. It was only the tiniest spot. Peter failed to see it. He was admiring the slender shapeliness of the hand. “There! I think that’s enough.” She eyed him critically with head on one side. “My wordl It is nasty. I belive it’s spreading.” “Don’t say that,” he groaned. “I know it’s nasty. That’s always been a sore point with the family. Heaven help my future if it spreads.” “Nonsense!” she laughed, ; “Now you had better lie down until the bleeding stops, unless,” she added mischievously, “you would prefer the front door key down your back." (To he continued.)