THURSDAY, MARCH 28, 1929 I: The I RJED I I LAMP j 1 W I | MARY ROBERTS RINEHART | Copyright by Geo. H. Doran Company « WNU Service June 28. I slept very little last night, and this morning made an excuse to go up to town with the letter. Larkio had tel ephoned me that be had an Inquiry on the house through Cameron, and this gave me a pretext Larkin is impressed with the let- Iter, but does not necessarily see its connection with Uncle Horace’s death. “You haveir't an idea who it’s meant for, you say?” “Not the slightest He hadn’t any friends, intimates, so far as 1 know. The Livingstones, very decent people with a big place about six miles from him, his doctor, and myself—that’s about all.” “ ‘Enormity of the Idea/ ” he read again. “Os course that might be a new poison gas, or this thing the press Is always scaring up. the death ray. Some fellow witb a bee in his bonnet you may be sure.” “That wouldn’t imply danger to him self.” “Any fellow with a bee in his bon net is dangerous,” he said, and gave me back the letter. “Os course.” he went on, “you’ve made a nice point about the stain on the corner. If it’s blood. It’s hardly likely be got up again and put it where you found it But I think you’ll find the servant there, what’s her name, picked it op in her excite ment and threw it Into the drawer. However, if you like. I’ll .have that stain tested and see what it Is.” I tore off the corner, and left him putting it carefully Into an envelope. He glanced op as 1 prepared to go. “What’s this II bear about your keep ing off demons by drawing some sort of a cabalistic design around your self?" he asked “You’d better let me in on it; I need a refuge now and then.” _..vs •*. ... Which proves that a man may shout the eternal virtues and be unheard forever, but If be babble nonsense is a wilderness It will travel around the world. We have settled down Into our rou tine here very comfortably. Our eggs and milk are brotfgbt each morning by a buxom farmer’s daughter, one Maggie Morrison, a sturdy red cheeked girl. With the lawns cut and the shrub bery trimmed, the place grows in creasingly lovely. At low tide the beach is covered with odds and ends from the mysterious life of the sea. red and white starfish, sea urchins, and disintegrated jelly fish Sea-gulls pick up mussels, hover over a flat topped rock, drop them onto Its sur face and then swoop down upon the broken shell, with a warning cry to other gulls to keep away. Easter Eve 1 mw twe ««m wpfrig by the tomb Os One new-buriml, fa a fair inn fbn Bo we red with shrub*; the eve retained no trao* Os aught that day performed; tut the feint gloom Os dying day was spread upon the sky; The moon wes breed and' bright shows th*.. - wood; The breeze brought token of e multitude, • Music, end shout, and mingled revelry. At length came gleaming through the thicket shade Helmet and casque.', and a steel-armed bead Watched round the sepueber in solemn stand; The night-word past, from naan to men con veyed; And I could see those women rise end go Under the dark trees, moving sad and slow. —Henry Alford, D. D-, in Kansas City Star. Yaqui Tribal Dance an Old Easter Custom The dawn of a new Easter breaks over Superstition mountain, near I’hoenix, Ariz., as a small group of exhausted Yaqui Indian dancers end their weird movements of “Dia di Gloria” and totter off to their wickiups and hogans. The colorful spectacle, which reaches its climax just before dawn, is wit nessed by thousands of tourists and residents of Phoenix. Police with double-barreled shotguns stand guard by the throng and spectators as the dance is near its und. As the rites progress, bronze figures flash in the light of smoked oil lamps and tiie grotesque headdress of the dancers nods and topples. When the tribal dance ends the In dians move away from a bank of smoldering embers, all that remains of fires kindled at sundown the day be fore, and the scene shifts to a little adobe chapel covered with twigs from a thousand mesquite bushes. Here services for the penitent In dians are held. The self-confessed sinners, wrapped in blankets and pros trate before a shrine, have prayed since Sunday the day before. “I hear that you have lost your valuable little dog, Mr. Taylor. “Yaas, in a railway accident. I was saved but the dog was killed.” “What a pity!” i The boathouse Is ready for young Halliday. Edith has put in it a great deal of love and one. or two of my most treasured personal possessions. “That isn’t by any chance my smok ing stand?” “But you aren’t going to smoke 1 much this summer, Father William,’* she says, and tucks a hand into ray arm, “1 heard you say so yourself.” It has a sitting room, bedroom and kitchenette, but no bath. “He can use the sea,” says Edith, easily. “And take a cake of soap in with him.” “And wash himself ashore,” l sug gest, and am frowned down, probably too old for such ribaldry. Jane is very serene. Now and then, as she sits on our small veranda with her tapestry, I see her raise her eyes and glance toward the other house, but she does not mention it, nor do I. But she absolutely refused to take the pictures of the house l.arkin had asked for. Not that she put it like [ that. “I haven’t had any luck with the camera lately,” she said. “You take 1 them, or let Edith do it.” The result of the collaboration, 1 which followed early, this afternoon is still In doubt Jane intends to de velop and print them this evening. And so our life goes on. We retire early, I generally slightly scented from the cold cream of Edith’s good- 1 night kiss. Clara, our household staff, ' too, goes up early, probably looking under her bed before retiring into it. And Jane sits and sews while I make ' my nightly entry in this Journal; she [ is, I think, both jealous and faintly suspicious of it I 1 At ten o’clock or so we let Jock out, and he looks toward f be main house and then turns out the gates and into the highroad, where for a half hour or so he chases rabbits and possibly looks for a bear. At ten-thirty he scratches at the door, and we admit ( him and go up to bed. Later: 1 have just had a surprise 1 amounting to shock. Jane finds she has forgotten the black japanned lan- ! tern with a red slide which she uses in the mysterious rites of developing pictures, and suggests that we go to the other bouse and use the red lamp 1 there. ' “But I can bring it here." “I am through being silly about the other bouse, William,” she says with “But I Can Bring It Here." I an air of resolution. “Anyhow, the pantry there is better, and yon can sit in the kitchen. Bring a book or , something.” ' i She has, poor Jane, very much the . air of Helena Lear’s kitten the day ] Jock cornered it and it came out res olutely and looked him in the eye. In effect, Jane is going out to meet her r bugaboo and stare it down. * - June 29^: Jane is in bed today, and 1 am not all 1 might be, although 1; managed to get an indifferent print or two to Larkin this morning.. It is well enough for cold-blooded and nerveless individuals to speak of fear as a survival of that time wben. in our savage state, we were surround ed by enemies, dangers, and a thou sand portents in skies we could not comprehend, and to insist that when knowledge comes in at the door, fear and superstition fly out of the window. It Is only in his head that man is heroic; in the pit of his stomach he is always a coward. Yet, stripped of its trimmings—the empty, echoing house, its reputation and my own private thoughts about its possible tragedy, the incident loses much of its terror; is capable, indeed. when she * called out to me sharply to know .vhere a cold wind was coming from, and although I felt no such air I closed the kitchen door. It was with in a couple ot minutes of that, .>r thereabouts, that I suddenly heard her jve a low moan, and the next instant there was the crash Os a falling body When 1 opened the pantry door • found her in a dead faint, underneath the window. When she revived, she THE CHATHAM RECORD, PITTSBORO, N. C. maintained that she hail seen Un«*i« Horace.. Her statement runs about as foi lows': She had not felt parlicihisfiv uneasy on entering the house, “al though I lt;:< 1 expected to,” she ad mits. Nor at the beginning of oper ations in the pantry. The cold air. however, had had a peculiar quality to it; it “froze” her, she says; she felt rigid with it. And it continued after she heard me close the kitchen door. This wind, she says, w 7 as not only po cold that site called to me, but she had an impression that it was coming from somewhere near at hand, and she seemed to see the curtains blowing out at the window. The lower sash was down, as she could tell by the re flection of the red lamp in it, but she went to the window to see if the up per sash had been lowered. With the darkness outside, the glass had become a sort of mirror, and she said her own figure in it startled her for a moment. She stood staring at it, when she that she was not alone in the room. Clearly re flected, behind and over her right shoulder, was a face. It disappeared almost immediately, and I have my own private doubts about her recognition of it as Uncle Horace, which I believe Is post facto But I am obliged to admit that Jane saw something, either outside the win dow and looking in, or the creation of her own excited fancy. As soon as I could leave her I went outside, but I could find no one there, and this morning I find that my own footprints under the window have en tirely obliterated anything else that may have been there. Jane herself believes it was Uncle Horace, but I cannot find that she received anything more than an in distinct impression of a face. She rather startled me this morning, how ever, by asking me if 1 had ever thought that Uncle Horace had noi died a natural death. “Why in the world should 1 think such a thing?” But pressed for an explanation she merely said she had beard that the spirits of those who have died violent deaths are more likely to appear than of others who have passed peaceably away; that the desire to acquaint the world with the circumstances of the tragedy is overwhelming! What seems much more likely Is that she has caught from -me, "With that queer gift of hers, spme inkling of my own anxiety . . Larkin’s report from the laboratory shows that the stain on fbe corner of the letter Is blood. One lives and leam6 Not only does the report state that 11 is blood, but that it is human blood Moreover, that it is about a year old. and that it is the imprint of a hu man finger, hut is too badly blurred for identification, as.it was made while the blood was fresh. f So does science come to the aid ot the police today. Truly one lives and learns. * ? June 30. I have been brought today, for the first time, into active contact with the feeling of the country people against my house, and especially against the red lamp. It is an amaz ing situation. Thomas came to the doorway this morning while I was at breakfast, fol lowed by Starr the constable, who re muined somewhat uneasily behind him. It developed that half a dozeD sheep in a meadow beyond Robinson’s point, were found the night before last with their throats cut. The farm er who owned them heard them mill ing about and ran out, and he de clares he saw a da'Tk figure dart out of the field and run into my woods at the bead of Robinson’s point It appears, that the farmer, whose name is as soon aV-be saw. where the fugitive was beadeg, and went back to his dead sheep* They were neatly laid out in a tipw. • v “At, wbat time was all this?” ) asked. - • \ « “Eleven p’clock, or thereabouts/' “How about a dog?" l acked. “They kill sheep, don’t they? Catch them, by the throat or something?” “They don’t stab them with a knife. Not around liere, anyhow,” said Starr. The ostensible object of the visit was to ask if we .bad been disturbed that night, and for some- reason nr other I did not at once connect the situation with Jane’s curious expert ence. “No,” I said. “You’ll probably find that Nylie has an enemy somewhere, come hand he has discharged, per haps.” Starr took himself away very sood after that, but before he ’ left he ex changed a glance with Thomas, and 1 had a feeling that something lay be-; hind this morning visit. It: was qot long before Thomas brought .it out;,. It appears that Nylie ran after the fig , ure. to the edge, of the wood, and there stood hesitating. The woods, I gather, share in the ill-repute of the houce. And. as he stood v therfe. as though everyone knew the house was empty. h£* distinctly saw*the evil glow of the red lamp from it! < ; 1 dare’ say Jane Is right-,' and my sense of humor is perverted, but i could Hot resist the opportunity of hnitihg 'Thomas, In which 1 realize now I made a tactical error. “Really?” I said. “Nylit was cer tain of that, was he?” “Saw it as plain as 1 see you,” said Thomas. “1 know yoi) don’t believe me—” ■ ■ ■- , ■ “But. A do believe you. What about ihe red lamp?” “Well.’* he said, “it’s pretty well Known about tlie.se parts that that lamp ain’t healthy Some sa* on> •liing and some say another, but most folks t* nirreed on that.” (Continued Next Week) DOG’S HEAD LIVES FOR | HOURS AFTER CUT OFE| A German scientist announces that he has been able to keep a dog’s head alive for hours after it had been severed from the body. 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