ERST nni U1CSI I
BY TALBOT MUNDY ? ? ? ? TAUOT MUNDY?WNU SltVICf
" CHAPTER XIX?Cootinaed.
?17?
"I'll talk English to His Highness,"
?aid Rundhia. "The old sheep shall
do one useful thing before he dies.
You have the poison ready?"
"Yes, but this is a crisis," the
Bengali answered. "Are you in a
fit condition to control a crisis? To
me, you seem very nervous. Let
me feel your heart-beat. Why not
postpone this until tomorrow?"
"Because tomorrow the old sheep
might change his will. I've had a
warning from the Resident. By the
day after tomorrow, they might al
ready have vetoed my succession
to the throne. If he's already dead
they'll let me succeed, to save them
selves trouble. So poison the old
sheep tortight, and take your money
and go to the devil. I hope I never
see you again. If you fail. I'll take
damned good care you hang!"
"There is no risk of failure, un
less you are too excited and behave
suspiciously."
"Yes, there is," said Rundhia.
"You do as I tell you. Be a little
late with his tonic, so that he drinks
it greedily. I'm going in to see him
now. After I come out, you wait
until someone else goes in to see
him."
"But if no one goes?"
"1 will take care that, someone
' does go. If you give it td him in
someone else's presence, it will look
more innocent. Will he be able to
speak after he drinks it?"
"No. It will paralyze his nerves
immediately."
"How long will it take him to.
die?"
"Perhaps ten minutes. Perhaps
less. It will appear to be heart
failure."
"Very well then. Where's your
needle? Give me a strong shot."
"No. Not too strong. You must
not get the habit. After this, you
will need your faculties and self
control, if we are not to be found
out. I will give you just sufficient
to steady your nerves."
ine manarajan siarea, notea me
expression on Rundhia's face when
he entered the room and made a
warning gesture toward the Punjabi
stamp salesman.
"Can he understand English?"
Rundhia demanded.
"I believe not"
"Well, I will speak English. If
he does understand it it won't much
matter. I want you to call up the
Resident and demand the immedi
ate arrest of Captain Norwood!"
"Why?" asked the Maharajah.
"He has not only taken a bribe
from the priests, as you already
know?"
"I have heard it said."
"You know it's true. And now he
has assaulted me. He knocked me
out with a punch in the face."
"Were you drunk?" asked the Ma
harajah. And, before Rundhia could
answer: "It would be beneath my
dignity to ask the Resident to take
official cognizance of a brawl be
tween two drunkards."
CHAPTER XX
Lynn changed from the Indian cos
tume. She entered the Maharanee's
boudoir in a chiffon evening gown.
"Please don't get up, Maharanee
dear. You treat me as if I were
royalty and you a subject or some
thing."
"Why did you change your dress,
Lynn? You looked so charming in?"
"Oh, this dress feels more honest
somehow. I mean more like my
real colors. Maharanee dear, I'm
afraid I'm all upset. I'm not lit to
talk tn "
"Lynn dear, what has happened?"
"Rondhia made love to me, and I
wasn't even polite to him. Captain
Norwood came, and punched Run
dhia?he knocked him off the wall
1 thought he had killed him. Oh,
why do I keep on getting other peo
ple into trouble I"
The Maharanee's worried face
seemed to age udder Lynn's eyes:
"Lynn, did be hurt Rundhia bad
fr?"
"No, I think not Rundhia walked
away."
"Did you apeak to Captain Nor
wood?"
"Yes, I insulted him. I did it
thoroughly. I suppose 1 shouldn't
have, since it was I who injured
him. But I couldn't help it He
tore up my letter, so I tore up his.
I am not meek by nature. I'm not
good at pretending."
"And Rundhia wasn't hurt? You
are sure?"
"Captain Norwood went down off
the wall to look. It wasn't long be
fore Rundhia walked away. I don't
know why he didn't come back and
face Captain Norwood, but perhaps
he was too stunned by being knocked
off the wall. Rundhia didn't behave
very well."
"He needs you, Lynn."
Lynn laughed?bitter?contemptu
ous: "Needs me? I need a friend.
Rundhia is?"
"Be strong." said the Maharanee.
"I am your friend."
"Yes, bless you! Rundhia seemed
strong," fcynn said. "And he talked
like a perfect lover. I had almost
begun to believe he can love. And
theft something happened. There
was shooting?perhaps nothing im
portant?I don't know. I asked Run
dhia, and I thought he was lying
when he said he didn't know. Alter
that?it was quite sudden?I didn't
believe in him any longer. I can't
explain it. Then Captain Norwood
came."
A servant entered. He announced
that Prince Rundhia was waiting.
"Lynn, will you see him?"
"Not alone," Lynn answered.
The Maharanee thought a minute:
"It is against precedent, against
custom. Lynn dear, will you be
shocked if I ask Rundhia to come in
here to talk to us?"
Lynn found a smile. "I suppose
you're afraid he might brag! Let's
risk that. I won't telL"
Rundhia strode in. He stood stock
still in the center of the room. He
was wearing a blood-red turban and
dinner jacket. He looked like the
real Rundhia again. Easy to imag
ine him horsed and riding hard at
an enemy. He gazed at Lynn a mo
ment, then at the Maharanee:
"Has Lynn told you?" he asked.
"Yes, Rundhia. What did you do
to make Captain Norwood strike
you?"
Rundhia tossed his head. He
looked like a man when he did that.
"Lynn saw. Lynn heard," he an
swered. "I went at once and de
I ii I! I' I^Ml
manded Norwood's arrest. His High
ness your husband, my revered and
beloved uncle, refused. Lynn must
decide."
"Decide what?" Lynn asked.
Rundhia looked strangely at her.
"Does he live or die? It was be
cause you were there that Norwood
struck me. I hadn't offered to strike
him. There is only one possible re
tort to that insult?unless you for
bid. That is what you must decide
now. Lynn, I have offered you my
heart and the throne of Kadur.
What is your answer?"
"Lynn," said the Maharanee?and
stopped speaking.
There was a knock at the door. A
servant entered:
"Captain Norwood sahib 1 He
waits. He begs leave to speak to
Her Highness the Maharanee. Cap
tain Norwood says his business is
very urgent."
"I will not see Captain Norwood,"
said the Maharanee. "This is no
hour for me to receive him." She
stared at Rundhia. Then, slowly, to
the servant: "Tell Captain Norwood
he should ask for His Highness my
husband. I will send word to His
Highness, asking him to receive
Captain Norwood."
The servant vanished.
Lynn got up out of her chair. She
looked desperate but perfectly calm.
"Lynn darling," said the Maha
ranee.
Rundhia interrupted: "Norwood'!
fate is in your hands. I will do any
thing for you?if?"
"If what, Rundhiaf" "*
"If you accept my love."
"I don't love you," she answered.
"Accept my love. My love will
make you love me!"
"If not?" Lynn asked.
"I will kill Norwood. After that,
I will let happen what may. If my
love means nothing, I will trample
it into oblivion. Yes or no, Lynn?"
"Rundhia." Lynn's voice was as
quiet and controlled as if she were
facing death. "The barrier between
you and me is your laugh when you
boasted of Captain Norwood's ruin.
You promised me that you would
do your best to clear him. Did you?"
"No," said Rundhia. "But if you
will marry me, I will. I will accept
your promise. I don't believe you
know how to break one. I will keep
mine."
"Rundhia," said Lynn, "I will
promise to marry you, if you will
write, and sign, a retraction of any
and all accusations against Captain
Norwood. You must put it in the
form of a letter to the British Resi
dent, and it must be witnessed by
the Maharanee and the Maharajah.
You must meet Captain Norwood in
my presence, and the Mahara
nee's, and you must say to him per
sonally that you withdraw. I won't
ask you to beg his pardon, because
I won't do that. I won't speak to
him. But I insist on your behaving
like a man."
The Maharanee spoke suddenly
with a ring of command in her
voice:
"Rundhia, go to the table and
write I"
Rundhia went to the table. Lynn
sat down beside the Maharanee:
"Maharanee dear, you must be
my wise friend, for I am all in the
dark. I feel so western and so lone
ly, and I don't know whether I am
doing right or wrong. But I will
do my best."
"Lynn?"
Lynn interrupted her: "Will you
make me a promise? Will you nev
er, never tell Captain Norwood why
I married Rundhia? Will you keep
it a secret?"
The Maharanee was silent for
nearly a minute. She was not quite
dry-eyed. She spoke suddenly, low
voiced:
"Lynn, do you love Captain Nor
wood?"
"Maharanee dear, I have prom
ised to marry Rundhia."
CHAPTER XXI
Norwood stood stock-still, beneath
a Tibetan devil-mask, between two
suits of ancient Indian armor. He
had sent up his card to the Maha
ranee with a request for an imme
diate interview. It was an outra
geous request, and he knew it. The
palace chamberlain approached
him, stared?stared harder?hesitat
ed, and then:
"Captain Norwood? We had heard
you are dead!"
"Yes. I have been wondering who
is sorry I'm not dead. Has the Ma
harajah heard it?"
"No, I believe not. He is rather
inaccessible this evening. And it
was only a rumor, unconfirmed yet.
It was thought best not to mention
it to him prematurely. May I con
gratulate you on your escape. It
was said that criminals attacked
your camp. I am sincerely?"
"Thanks."
"Your business at the palace? I
think the Maharajah might be
pleased to see you. He has a docu
ment?"
"I have asked to see the Maha
ranee."
"Oh, impossible! Captain Nor
wood, please. We have been very
unconventional of late, but?"
"Here comes the servant," said
Norwood.
The servant delivered his mes
sage: the chamberlain accompanied
Norwood upstairs as far as the ante
room that led into the Maharajah's
study:
"I am sure His Highness will be
glad to see you, because of that new
document he has discovered. The at
tendant in the anteroom will an
nounce you. Hee-hee! You may be
lieve it or not. but I wouldn't dare
to do it
"Don't mention my name," said
Norwood.
"I wouldn't think of it. The doc
tor and I are not cronies. I will
simply say someone went in. I be
lieve you will be admitted. His
Highness spoke of you. I think he
really wants to see you."
The chamberlain left him. Nor
wood was announced. The Punjabi
stamp salesman was dismissed,
smiling as if he had done good busi
ness. The door closed, and Nor
wood was alone with the Mahara
jah.
At last the Maharajah spoke: "I
am pleased to receive you. Captain
Norwood, even though the hour is
unusual. You came to speak to me
about the?ah?boundary dispute? I
have news. Since I saw you, my
secretary has found a document
which seems to me to make the
priests' case so ridieulous that?"
"Oh, I expect to And in the favor
of the priests, Your Highness. Those
documents may interest lawyers. I
am only concerned with the bound
ary line. I have been accused of
accepting a bribe from the
priests?"
"Oh! Captain Norwood, you aston
ish me. Who is your accuser?"
"I supposed you already knew. He
will tell you. As a matter of fact, I
called on Her Highness the Mahara
nee. I want to speak to Miss Lynn
Harding. I ha,ve reason to believe
that without the Maharanee's advice
she might refuse to see me until
perhaps tomorrow. I need to see
her tonight. I hoped to persuade
the Maharanee to arrange the inter
view, but she refused, so I came to
you instead."
"Is it urgent? Won't you please be
seated? Won't you read this docu
ment?"
"Your Highness, do you think I
would disturb you at this time of
night if it wasn't urgent!"
"Oh, well, possibly an interview
can be arranged. I will enquire
presently. Won't you read that doc
ument?"
Norwood smiled agreeably: "I
will. As you have reason to know,
sir, I'm a bit slow at reading this
ancient script."
"I wouldn't care to let that out of
my possession," said the Mahara
jah.
"Suits me," Norwood answered.
"I ask nothing better than to sit
here for the time being. You will
learn why, later."
The Maharajah looked up sharply,
but Norwood raised the document
between them. He couldn't see Nor
wood's face:
"You flatter me," he said after a
moment.
At last came a knock at the door.
The Maharajah tapped the gong
with his Angers and the Bengali doc
tor entered, making his sua vest pro
fessional bow. He was followed by
the Maharajah's personal attendant,
carrying a big blue goblet on a sil
ver tray. The Bengali eyed Nor
wood with horror.
"You are late," said the Mahara
jah. "Why are you late?"
"I was delayed, your Highness.
I?"
Norwood had laid down the docu
ment. He rose from his chair. He
stepped behind the Bengali. He held
his right fist ready for emergency
and seized the goblet in his left hand.
The Bengali stepped back, out of
reach of the fist. The Maharajah
made a sudden exclamation, not un
like a sheep's bleat. The white-clad
servant backed away, showing the
whites of his eyes. Norwood held
the goblet toward the Bengali:
"Drink it!" he commanded.
The Bengali was speechless. It
was several seconds before he could
stammer: "Sir, are you mad?"
The Maharajah, with his elbows
on the desk, and one hand within
reach of the drumstick of the golden
gong, leaned forward, staring.
Norwood spoke again quite calm
ly. But it waa a deadly calm. It
frightened the Bengali:
"You are, aren't you, the doctor
who poisoned Mrs. Harding's
toast?"
"Sir, beware whom you slander!"
The Bengali appealed to the Maha
rajah: "Is Your Highness pleased
to hear me slandered by a mad
man who is known to have been
bribed by?"
Norwood interrupted: "Cut that!
You heard me. Drink KI"
"That is His Highness' tonic."
"Drink it!" said the Maharajah.
He looked almost happy. He sound
ed quite calm. But his fingernails
drummed on the desk. Not a sign
of humor.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
w* ^
"Lynn dear, what has
happened?"
Algae' Worry Scientists Seeking Pure Water Snpply
Supplying pure, good-tasting wa
ter to a modern city has its up* and
downs. One of the biggest "downs"
is the sudden appearance of a smell
or taste suggesting moldy base
ments, cucumbers, pig pens or long
dead fishes. This means that algae
is in the reservoir and instead of
calling the police with a drag-net,
the trouble shooters at the water
works go hunting with a microscope.
Algae are the simplest and most
ancient forms of plant life. They
do not bother drinking water as long
as they behave themselves. Usually
they are taken care of by filtration
and other purification. But, like any
crowd, there is always a smart a leek
or two. That is when the superin- <
tendent of the reservoir has his wor
ries. i
Nearly every city water system
that draws its supply from surface i
reservoirs must be guarded con
stantly against sudden invasions of i
such algae and their relatives,
writes Walter E. Burton in Nature t
Magazine. The chemist at the wa- i
ter works keeps a rogue's gallery .<
of photomicrographs of the offend- <
ers. Once they are identified be i
?
starts in to round them up?and out.
One of the most offensive algae
Reservoir Enemy No. 1?is Synura
Uvella He is a two-tailed creature
that likes to travel in gangs of SO
or so. Such a bunch, magnified 000
times, makes a spot about the size
of a quarter. Three of these gangs
in a gallon of water will make it
taste pretty awful?some say like
geraniums; others like dead fish.
Synura loves the cold, so is specially
offensive in winter.
Anabaena is good-looking algae?
under the microscope?with cells ar
ranged in graceful curlicues. How
ever, it creates an odor and taste
described as "grassy, moldy and
vile." Asterionella adds the delight
ful touch of a pig-pen odor to the
reservoir water, and it, too, is pret
ty, with its cells arranged like a
star.
These and other public water ene
mies are one reasoit why you have a
water bill to pay. Just as you need
a police department to protect you,
so you need the men at the water
works, particularly the trained
chemists, to keep the water pure
and tasty.
Comfort, Style, Color, Novelty
In New Spring Shoe Fashions
By CHERIE NICHOLAS
%
ASA prologue to the season before
^ us the National Shoe fair, held
in Chicago recently, launched many
new styles for the Easter parade,
and for the spring and summer
months to follow. It is not possible
to tell of all the shoe fashions ex
hibited, so in the next few para
graphs we will cite a few outstand
ing highspots.
First, one is impressed with the
striking originality that marks the
styling of shoes this season. The:
big news is the swing toward back
decoration. The newest models are
styled with all sorts of fancy cutouts
in heel and side-back sections. Open
toes appear in a substantial percent
age, with good taste using a restrain
lag hand.
In leathers there is decided in
genuity in combinations, especially
with fabrics. In the forefront are
leathers from the reptilian family.
Patent is a top-honor contender, di
viding its style prestige with gabar
dine. Suede is also definitely in the
picture. The stepins are prime fa
vorites. The majority of these, and
of pumps, carry elasticised sections.
For the initial purchase smart
women will select black or the new
bluejacket blue, a dark navy. Mali
bu beige is also a color you will be
parading. Gray is due for a de
cided revival.
Heels introduce more novelty in
their heights and shapes than in
\
any previous year. They will "click"
from flat platforms to new spike
altitudes. Wedges in medium and
high heel versions promise a great
vogue. When you see the new play
shoes you won't be able to resist.
Wedge shoes with soles in brilliant
red kid and tops of Paris blue, buck
piped in red, with a red drawstring
around the top will embark you gaily
on that ail-American spring which
fashion advises will be here, with
patriotic colors flagging interest
from head to foot.
Ready to step out for spring are
bluejacket pumps with bows and
moccasin-effect fronts edged in
white as shown to the left in the *
picture, worn with a navy and white
print frock and navy and white ac
cessories. Gay stripe wool for coats
is a spring promise. To wear with
your striped coat choose shoes such
as accompany the coat illustrated.
Describing the shoes shown in the
inset, beginning at the top. No. 1
is the new double platform type.
The alligator pumps next below are
real smart. They are in the new
taupe gray, have the latest square
toe and heel design, with stitching
in brown. Shown next is a signif
icant style forecast. It combines
alligator with suede or gabardine.
Two pert bows of alligator add
swank. Comfort plus style is the
very important message conveyed
by the shoe that concludes the group.
(Released by Western Newspaper Union.)
Pastel Blouse
A sheer crepe blouse in monotone
pastel, pale blue, muted pink, gray
ish green or the new whest color
with a dark skirt of rich fsbric
is s dress formula that carries style
conviction. The blouse pictured ob
serves the newest styling details.
High neckline, long generously full
sleeves, the wide corselet effect that
gives a nipped-in waistline, they are
larks of fashion-wise dressmaker
touches. A matching turban is late
fashion decree.
Nepotny is launching new styles
in chemisier blouses, making them
of silk or cotton novelty shirting
and trimming them with old-time
featherstitched braid and nacre
shell-shaped buttons.
-9.
. ?''' - -i,' . x
Milliners Turn Out
Cunning Spring Hats
A pastel felt or a gay fabric tur
ban make good "starters" for
spring. The Sailor theme is a most
important one. As for turbans you
can wear no smarter headpiece. The
latest is to have a turban match
either blouse or bag or match some
thing that has to do with your cos
tume.
The outstanding feature about the
cunning hats that tilt over the face,
aome not much larger than the palm
of your hand, is that they all throw
the spotlight on back views. Mil
liners have devised all sorts of
schemes in the way of snoods and
fitted deep bandeaux and ribbon
cap-fitting contrivances not only to
insure a comfortable fit on the head
but to give chic and charm to back
views.
House Coats to Fit
Your Personality
House coats and hostess gowns,
like all other costumes, should be
chosen to match your personality.
Once in a while the tall, stately
woman may find it amusing to go
frilly and feminine at home and
the hoyden may try her hand at
elegance, but these are the excep
tions rather than the rule.
Ordinarily the woman who spends
many hours in her home likes pret
ty, cheerful pastels, while the career
woman who keeps an eye on the
practical side chooses the darker
red, wine and blue shades.
Wet Day Ensemble
Chic and Sensible
Copper and white are attractive
ly combined for a rainy day ensem
ble. A trench coat of copper-toned
gabardine is teamed with white
rubbers and a transparent copper
toned umbrella. The umbrella has
an old-fashioned ivory tusk handle.
An amusing lapel pin for this coat is
a pair of white celluloid ducks.
WHO'S |
NEWS 1
THIS
WEEK
Br LEMUEL F. PARTON
(Consolidated Features?WNU Scrrles.)
NEW YORK.?In war, both the ?
Poles and the Russians seem to
suffer from incurable romance. The
Poles clung to their picturesque cav
Rutt, Like Poles, the8 ha^
Cling to Horses boiled mili
With 111 Results JF* ,dvic"
Europe, and
their horses made beautiful targets
for machine-gun bullets. The Rus
sians in the latest emergency sent
in, not a strategist in modern war,
but their most romantic cavalry gen
eral, Marshal Simian M. Budenny,
and reports of disaster follow swift
ly. News stories chalk up another
"dismal failure," in the general's
latest assault on the Mannerhetm
line.
In the late summer of 1910, when
the cables brought the news that the
Bolsheviks were whipped and in
flight, and that the White Russian
Denikin held all of southern Russia,
Budenny galloped through the
steppes, recruiting his army at wild
horsemen. He was a Cossack, from
the Dcm region, gaudily appareled,
and with a huge blow-torch mous
tache that flared magnificently in the
wind. His little bands of free-boot
ers grew into a huge cavalry army.
It swept back, not only Denikin, but
his ally, Wrangel and stopped the
Poles until the French came to their
aid.
The general was enshrined hs
folk talcs and songs throaghswt
the land?his wife, too, who rote
and fought with him. Leata
later pwt him la command of sM
the R assise cavalry. Be is a
maa at eztraordiaary energy.
"Proletarians, to horse!" waa
Us rallying cry, as he hers ma
eae of the country's mala incit
ers of patriotic enthnsiasm. Be
had all Russia thiahlag or at any
rate feeflag that the answer to
all Ha troubles was U gettMg
everybody on haraebaek.
He was a peasant, without school
ing. And there la no available rec
ord of his having had any training
or experience in mechanized mar
fare. He was a private in the Rnaeo
Japanese war and a petty officer in
the early stages of the,World war.
His wife, said to have been the best
rifle shot in Russia, killed herself
accidentally while cleaning a gun, in
192S. He married a famous stliaes
of the Mali theater in Moscow, and
their Joint histrionics have continued
to thrill the Russians. He has main
tained a horse-breeding farm and
encouraged his countrymen to do the
same, evidently on the theory that n
good horse and a good proletarian
slogan would make any Russian un
conquerable.
?
MANY years ago, this writer
shared an apartment with the
late Willard Huntington Wrifht If
the Empire State building were an
D c n?w.. iTOrT '?*??
rrat Do?Mes as K would not
Philoaophmr and have been tall
Amthor of Thrills "tough far
Mr. Wright in
those days. He was an aesthete.
fastidious in dress, multi-lingual, a
postgraduate of many European
salons, a distinguished art critic and
a precisionist of ideas, to whom a
primrose by the river's brim was a
simple primulacea and nothing
more. I began to feel the altitude,
and one day dived out of a 90-story
window. It was not until oasmat
years later that I learned Mr.
Wright had done the same and, con
valescing, had become S. & Tan
Dine, authoring bell-ringing murder
mystery stories to the end at Ms
days.
Somewhat ilmllar hi Dr. Mm
dotf Kager's laliMtiUm Kfe
aa a philosopher aad writer af
detective stories. Aa he ii Hni
by the New Tort WerU'i fair?
they may aeed te have a phileee
pher aroend by next spring?It
is revealed that this Hart Steel
who has beca keeping as awake
aighta with "ladas Ineorperet- I M
ed," "Crashed Shadows," aad
the like, la aeae ether thaa Dr.
Kager, associate prsfeisee at
philosophy at New Tech uaiver
aity. At the fair he will week
as a phliooepher rather thaa aa
a detective, pafflag tsgether a
let e< edaeatteaal lease eads aad
rave lings which, H seeaaed, gel
His detective stories started as all
anodyne for a feeling of loneliness
in the groves of Academe?as in
the case of Mr. Wright. In 1930, he <
had prepared his doctor's thesis oa
"The Growth of F. H. Bradley's
Logic," and had climbed where few
or none could follow. He was all
fagged out, and any two-dollar word ;
made him shut his eyes and ducki^
A friend suggested thst he bang out
a murder story?anything that came
into his head. "Murder of a Dead j
Man" was his first extra-curricular j
workout The publishers yelled for J