Evening Star Newspaper, September 20, 1936, Page 86

¢ 0°60 th Alka-Seltzer -t 3 VA YA Alkal DOG WORM CAPSULES Now Combined ONE TREATMENT i i i i GLOVERS) MANGE MEDICINE — write FEEE Boshist en fhe Halr and Scalp GLOVER’S, 468 Fourth Avenue, N. Y. City ©® I was dull and logy. The trouble— poor elimination. Then I remembered FEEN-A-MINT, took a tablet. It worked like magic. I was once more full of natural vim and for con- pep stipation readily yields to FEEN-A- MINT —the chewing-gum Ilaxative. ‘ THIS WEEK Teeth of the Dragon into the night air. The decks were slimy with the cool moisture which precedes the coming of dawn in the tropics. He heard a step on the deck and looked up, to see Lynn Downey, walking rapidly, her heels, clack, clack, clacking along the deck. “Did you have to answer a lot of questions?”’ he asked. She shook her head, her manner strangely reserved. ] gathered,” he said, *‘the captain must have found out something. He seems to have ceased groping in the dark, and acts as though he knew exactly what he was doing.” “Did they question you at all?”’ she asked, in a voice which showed un- “Not a word,” he said. ‘‘Inciden- tally, the captain’s slowed the ship to half speed. Looks as though he wanted more time before he reached port.” “Time for what?”’ she asked, and her voice was sharp with anxiety. He shrugged his shoulders. Her hand suddenly came to rest on his arm. “Tracy,” she said, her voice pleading, ‘‘please have confidence in me, will you?”’ “Why, yes, of course. Why shouldn’t I?” “Please, please don't try to be with me any more; don’t talk to me. Just nod a good moming when you see me tomorrow. That's going to help me so much! And don’t say anything to anyone about having seen a paper blowing along the deck. Thanks, and good night.” Her hand gave his arm a swift squeeze. She tumed and walked down the deck. Burke went to his stateroom, de- termined that he was going to get before he arose, the next moming, dressed, and went on deck to stare out over a smooth plain of turquoise water which glinted back the hot rays of the sun. Idly, Burke noticed that the shadows cast on the deck now had a distinctly southern slant. They had left the equator far behind. his eyes took swift inventory. Browning’s eyes caught Burke's and held them. They were a clear, blue, shining out of whites “I'm afraid I didn't help anyone solve anything. All I know is I've slept 80 late I’ve missed breakfast.” “Do you mean to say,” Browning asked, making his voice sound politely incredulous, ‘‘that you weren’t able to give the captain spme definite clews?” You chew it for 3 minutes and this chewing makes the difference. No grip- ing, no violence, no disturbance of sleep. Not habit-forming. Economical. Tested 66 times. Used by 15,000,000 people of all ages. Get FEEN-A-MINT for happy r-e-l-i-e-f! THE CHEWING-GUM LAXATIVE Continved from page six *“l wasn't able to,”” Burke said; “why should I be?”” *“You were on the deck at the time, walking around, and —" Burke couldn’t resist interrupting to say with a laugh, which made the barb seem less pointed, ‘‘You yourself were around on the deck at the time.” *Yes,” Browning said, ‘‘but not near the room where the body was found. I understand you discovered it.” “‘Someone had to,” Tracy pointed out. “Quite true,” Browning said, and added laconically, ‘‘and someone had to do the job in the first place, That someone is undoubtedly on this ship right at the present time. Do you know, Mr. Burke, if I'd unearthed some clew which would really point to the murder I think I'd be some- what uneasy. I'm not certain I'd report it just yet.”” “Why not?” Browning shrugged his shoulders. ‘““The murderer might resent it. By the way, do you know who he was?"” “Some banker from Pittsburgh, wasn’t he?”’ Burke asked casually. Browning shook his head and said, “Not a word of this, because I got it from the wireless room. The captain notified the Pittsburgh police. They reported back that no such person as Gregory Jackson was employed in an executive capacity in any of the banks. The man we knew as Gregory Jackson, the banker, was in reality a notorious international crook. His real name is Arthur Crafton; he went by the alias of William Best, and half a ““You mean he was one of those chaps who travel on steamers and lure credulous passengers into gambling » “No, nothing as crude as that. The man used his brains. He moved about from place to place. He never left tangible evidence behind him, but wherever he went, someone suffered.” The blue eyes stared steadily and searchingly at Burke’s profile. “‘Craf- ton,” Browning said, “or perhaps I should say Jackson, since that’s the way we knew him, was after some- thing he believed was in Miss Dow- ney’s stateroom. It must have been something of vital importance, other- wise Jackson would never have taken the risk of being found searching her stateroom. It would be interesting to know what he was looking for.” Burke managed a yawn. *‘Well,” he said, “’I’'m not going to let it interfere with my breakfast,”” and moved away. He had, however, taken less than a dozen steps when a stateroom door opened, and the beautiful island girl, Wanda Hara, stepping out to the deck stumbled, and flung out groping hands to steady herself. Burke caught her. ‘‘Steady there!”’ She clung to him. Her smoky eyes stared up into his. Her parted red lips - disclosed pearly teeth as she smiled. “Oh,” she said, “it is Mon- siewr the Painter! But you are up early, M'siewr! Did 1 not hear that you were on the deck last night to hear screaming women? And were you not the one to discover the murder?”’ She freed herself slowly and added, ‘A thousand thanks, M’ssenr, for the use of your strong arms.” “The pleasure,”” he grinned, *‘was mine. I’m on my way to hunt up some breakfast.” “And you do not discuss murders on an empty stomach?”’ ‘“Never.” Her eyes were seductive. ‘‘You go to Papeete to paint?”’ ‘‘Perhaps.” She pouted. “The last painter I met on the island wished me to be a model. I would not pose for him. But for you —I will see you in Tahiti, perhaps. . . . And now run to your breakfast. Men are much nicer when they are well fed. I will see you on the island, M’ sienr!” It was late afternoon when the ship crept slowly up to the coral reef, which stretched out circling dark arms, and slid through the narrow opening into the quiet waters of the harbor. The waterfront of Papeete stretched upward toward hills which were wrapped in a mantle of clouds. A squall swept in from the ocean, mak- ing a black blot of rain-lashed water. A moment later cool wind struck damply against the ship. Sheeted rain beat upon the deck in torrents and then was gone as suddenly as it had started. The last rays of after- noon sunlight tumed the waterfront of Papeete into a golden mirage. It was the first sight of land for many days, and, for the moment, the sinister shadow which hung over the ship was dispersed as some of the passengers who knew the national anthem lined the rail and struck up that weirdly haunting song, ‘‘E Mawu Rura A Vau, E Mau Rura A Vau. ...” Burke became aware that Brown- ing was standing beside him. The older man grinned. ‘‘Every- thing seems cheerful enough here, doesn’t it? Wait until you see the natives dance. I presume we'll be delayed going ashore.” “On account of the — the — "' “Exactly,” Browning said. ‘‘They’ll probably pretend they're asking us questions for purposes of immigra- tion information. It’s rather a ticklish situation, so far as jurisdiction is concerned. I'd like to get through carly if I can. I hope they take us in alphabetical order. I live here, you know.” ‘“Yes,” Burke said, “‘I understand you do. Miss Downey mentioned it."” *‘She’s pretty well up at the head of the list, too,”” Browning said medi- tatively. “At the head of the list?”" Burke asked, puzzled. ‘“Alphabetically,” Browning an- swered, laughing. “Of course they may hold her until after the others are finished because it was in her state- room. Devilish thing, wasn't it?"” Tracy nodded and said, ‘‘You seem to have kept remarkably well-in- formed on it.” Browning flashed him a quick, penetrating glance and said shortly, “l like to know what’s gding on around me. There they go, into a dance. You want to watch this if it's your first trip to the South Seas. Notice those drums.” Browning pointed, and Tracy, following the direction of his finger, saw several of the natives holding bits of polished wood in their hands. ‘‘Are those drums?” he asked. “They look like gravy-boats.” “They’re one of the South Sea types of drum. There's an opening in the top which has been hollowed out, just enough to give them reso- A shapely native girl raised her arm. A bronzed giant held both hands in the air and jerked them down. Perfectly synchronized, the drum- mers brought sticks down on the curved sides of the peculiar wooden drums. A clacking clatter of sound superimposed on a peculiarly vibrant, resonant note, struck Burke's ear. The natives began that sinuous twist- ing of the hips, which is the basis of all South Sea Island dances. the shapely curves, the bronzed bodies, Burke felt his pulses quicken. He heard Browning’s voice saying in his ear, “‘Sort of gets you, doesn’t it? The whole spectacle, and particu- larly those drums.” Burke realized then that the drums furnished a strange rhythm, not the throbbing tom-tom-like pulse of drums he had heard in Africa, but a sharply explosive beat of sound, punctuating the motions of the dancers. “I like those drums,”” Browning was saying. “You know, all native drums are the result of primitive attempts at inducing hypnotism. You probably don’t believe it, but it’s a fact.” “Hypnotism,” Burke said, laugh- ing. “Those people don’t seem to be in any hypnotic trance.” “There are several degrees of hypnosis,” Browning said. *“Tell you what, Burke, come up to my place ‘for dinner tomorrow night. Drop in about eight and I'll show you my collection of drums. 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