Evening Star Newspaper, September 20, 1936, Page 88

12 Teeth of the Dragon Continved from poge fen Burke hesitated for a second, then said, “I'll be glad to.” “I'll find out where you're staying and send my car for you."” Burke turned fascinated eyes back to the natives on the dock. Sailors were rigging up flood-lights so, as darkness deepened, the passengers could see the dancing. A gangplank stretched to the quay, but two sailors were preventing anyone from coming aboard or leaving until after the regu- lations had been complied with. Tracy saw formal-looking men with grave faces filing up the gangplank, then saw a rope stretched tightly across it. His eyes drifted back to the sway- ing bodies, the swishing grass skirts. He had heard somewhere that all of these island dances owed their incep- tion to the graceful waving of the palm fronds in the wind, and the ceaseless prpcession of breakers which curl upon themselves at the crest and THE GREATEST OF O you spend hours daily trying to duplicate the natural beauty of a fresh, young complexion and ripe, lovely lips? Why not try encouraging nsture 1o restore these beauty assets sefarally? * Thousands of women have dis- covered that the foundation of facial beauty is internal cleanliness —the ending of constipation. Once regular cleansing of the system is restored, new life comes to sallow faces, eyes sparkle anew, and nature’s own rich glow returns to pale, drab lips. * But laxatives and cathartics can- not bring this blessed relief from constipation. They are only tem- porary measures. True relief from most cases of constipation lies in replacing the natural function which has failed. Replace Nature’s Fluids The commonest cause of constipa- tion is deficiency in the intestinal fluids which keep food wastes soft and moving. Nujol replaces these -.------.-.-- Stanco Inc.,Room 1931, Please send me booklet oa Nujol. then go hissing up the beaches of white sand. Here man had no need to drudge in daily labor, and that free- dom of life showed in the natives. Here were bodies as straight as young trees, as lithe as willow. He turned as he felt a touch on his shoulder. One of the stewards said, ‘“The captain’s compliments, Mr. Burke, and he would like very much to have you step into his cabin.” Burke followed the steward to the captain’s cabin. He encountered grave-faced officials, who questioned him in the greatest detail as to his past, his antecedents, his reasons for visiting the islands, and, in particular, upon all that he had observed in connection with the murder. He answered their questions readily enough, withholding only the infor- mation about the paper, and at length was dismissed and free to go ashore. He did not see Lynn Downey that night, nor did he see her the following BEAUTY SECRETS lubricants. Nujol does not irritate the intestines as some laxatives do. It simply makes it easier for nature to function. Nujol contains no drugs of any kind. Nujol is as harmless as pure water, is used in leading hospitals, and is recommended by physicians sthe world over for people of all ages. Nujol may be taken as regu- larly as you wash your face. Hun- dreds of thousands of people take it not only to overcome constipa- tion but to prevent it. Nujol makes you regular as clockwork. It establishes the habit of internal cleanliness—the healthi- est habit in the world. Just try Nujol regularly for the next month and thea let your mirror be the judge of what Nujol does to re- store natural, thrilling beauty. Ask your druggist for Nujol and insist on the genuine. Nuyjol BEC.ULMT 0N FOR INTERNAL CLEANLINESS ..“-- 2 Park Ave.,New York H . Address. . ......coemeeett e s o0 9 55 50 S5 80 5 68 6B SREDED SSeRT —”-----.--'““'- THIS WEEK day while he made a conventional tour of the island, going out to Point Venus and down to Tahiti-Iti. Mur- der seemed far removed from such tropical beauty. At a quarter to eight Browning's car, driven by a smiling Polynesian, called for Burke, and ten minutes later Browning, attired in tropical evening clothes, greeted the young artist, ushered him into his living room, clapped his hands and had cocktails brought. ‘“There is,”” he said, ‘‘to be but one other guest,” and turned toward a room which opened from the veranda, across the door of which was a curtain of native beads. Burke was conscious of a shadowy figure moving on the other side of the bead curtain, then the curtain parted and he stared into the coolly smiling eyes of Lynn Downey. “Just the three of us,” Browning said, as Burke was greeting the girl; ‘“an intimate little dinner to welcome your arrival on the island.” Burke tried to determine whether Lynn Downey was surprised to see him there, and failed. Her cool fingers touched his hand with a polite gesture of welcome. She said, *‘It's so nice to see you again, Tracy,” and her tone held just that degree of politeness which etiquette demands of one who is meeting a fellow passenger at dinner. Browning explained the cocktails. They were composed, in part, of milk from green coconuts, mixed with certain ingredients which were his own secret. The cocktails were smoothly seductive, and a few min- utes later a dinner was served, which opened with orange-colored strips of ripe papaia, garnished with lime juice, and concluded some forty-five min- utes later, with a liquenr. During the dinner, Browning was a perfect host. But Burke noticed his conversation dealt with the weird and supernatural aspect of the island’s history. After dinner, Browning in- vited them to see his collection of drums, and led them into a long room which paralieled the veranda and . looked out over the ocean. The walls were decorated with hundreds of drums. / ““Notice,” Browning said, *‘that the conventional idea of a drum is only a half truth. For instance, the wooden drums are hardly classified in the popular fancy as drums, yet among primitive tribes they play an impor- tant part. Look at this Chinese ‘fish- drum,” a bell-shaped piece of wood with two holes in the sides connected by a slot. From this opening, the interior wood is excavated until a hollow shell is left. It’s used by the Chinese in worshipping temple gods. They beat on it in accompaniment to prayer. Listen, and I'll intone a Chinese prayer.” He raised his voice to a high-pitched monotone, “N’go ho saokng. . . .” The words that followed were an overlapping blur of sound, punctuated by taps on the resonant shell of hard wood. And Lynn Downey interrupted him to say, laughingly, * Your prayer’s granted. I'm certain no god could resist a suppliant who pressed so musical an appeal.” Browning grinned, put down the drum. ‘“‘Here’s a big drum of the Japanese Saemurai,”” he said then. *It was an' alarm drum, used to call the soldiers to arms. “There’s a metal temple drum I could show you which isn’t beaten at all,” he went on. ‘It gives forth sound when it’s rubbed. You can follow the vibrations down into the silence. Here, let me show you.” He took a thin-spun, circular metal bowl some two feet in diameter, placed it on a cushioned pedestal, and started rubbing the rim gently with a leather-covered stick. Slowly he increased the tempo of his rubbing; a faint noise came to the ears of his listeners, a voice such as might be made by the scales of a snake slither- ing across a bit of thin metal. “It's commencing to talk. Listen!” By rubbing the rim with the leather-padded stick, he built up the vibrations into a constantly increas- ing volume of sound, which seemed to come from no particular source, yet to fill the room. Abruptly he jerked the stick away from the vibrating metal. “Now,” he said triumphantly, “follow those pulsations into the silence.” The drum swelled into sound, be- came almost silent, then again throb- bed into sound, as regularly as the beating of some huge heart. Almost imperceptibly, the sound diminished in volume, still keeping the same rhythm of pulsation. Burke, listening to the drum, felt himself swayed by some peculiar emotion. It was as though his con- sciousness was being sucked into the vacuum of silence by the weird effect of the vibrations. By an effort, he fought free from the peculiar effect of the sound, glanced up from the drum, and saw Browning's intense blue eyes regarding him with the steady scrutiny of a scientist watch- ing a guinea pig which has been given an experimental inoculation. He saw the blue eyes switch toward Lynn Downey, then saw them glint with sudden, unmistakable satisfaction. Tracy turned to look at the girl. She was sitting, motionless, staring at the drum with the fixed fascina- tion of a bird watching the beady eyes of a swaying snake. Browning spoke rapidly, as though wishing to complete some demonstra- tion before the effect of the drum had worn off. ‘‘Remember,” he said, ‘‘that among savage tribes, the effect of the drums is experienced while sitting around a campfire. Here I have constructed something which will give you, in general, the effect.” He reached forth his hand and clicked two electric switches. With the first click, every light in the room was extinguished. With the second, a huge brass bowl some five feet in diameter in the center of the room sprang into red brilliance. Red and orange flames curled up into the darkness. Burke had to blink his eyes to realize that this was not really a fire; that cunningly concealed red lamps shining upon cellophane, and a hid- den electric fan were responsible for the illusion. Browning said, ‘‘You must imagine that you're sitting in the forest, before the dawn of civilization. Your only weapons are your bows, arrows and spears. You're as primitive as the wild things themselves, engaged in the ruthless struggle for life, which neces- sitates killing in order to live. There's a sacred ceremony about to com- mence, and your minds are prepared in this way."” Browning was holding across his lap a hollow log some twenty inches in diameter, across the top of which was stretched a taut hide, and upon this taut hide he began to beat with the tips of his fingers, a peculiar strik- Atlantic Mogoazine Section 1 ing of the hands, with the fingers " going limp just before they touched the drum head. Boom, boom, boom . .. Boom . . . Boom, boom boom. Browning lowered his voice so that it was soothingly soporific. “‘Out in the forest,” he said, “the campfire has died down to coals; the flickering flames which illuminated the circling trees have gone out, leaving only this bed of coals, which glows every now " and then into lambent flame as the night wind of the forest whispers through the trees. Back of you, around you, on all sides, the tribe is gathered. The drum has been going for hours at this steady, insistent, monotonous rhythm.” Boom, boom, boom. “The thoughts of others are beat- ing upon your minds, thoughts con- trolled by the regular rhythm of the drum.’”” Boom, boom, boom. ... Boom Burke became convinced this din- ner party had some fixed purpose back of it. He realized how cunningly Browning had set the stage with all of the conditions of hypnosis present, the staring at a lighted object, the droning monotone of his speech, the rhythmic Boom, boom, boom. . . . Boom. . . . Boom, boom, boom of the drum, which wearied the auditoey nerves. Despite himself, Burke felt drowsy, felt strange influences crowd- ing his consciousness; for the moment it seemed he could actually sense the presence of shadowy tribesmen, grouped in a circle behind him. Browning's voice droned on, his words almost indistinguishable. Burke felt like a man driving an automobile and fighting against over- powering sleep. Wakefulness would come at fitful periods, only to give way to overwhelming, oppressive drowsiness. “‘One of you two,” Browning said in a droning monotone, “has a sheet | of notebook paper which came into your possession on the night of the murder. Which one has it?”’ Boom, boom, boom. Burke felt clammy perspiration beading his forehead. While his voli- tion seemed strangely drugged, his perceptions were so acute as to be almost telepathic. In some strange way he sensed that Lynn Downey, sitting on his left, had become com- pletely dominated by the influence of this weird third-degree, and was about to speak. (To Be Continved Next Week) Episode Continved from page three . who looked at Brice was startlingly — incredibly — familiar! It couldn’t be! That incredulous doubt dissolved. He heard himself cry out. ‘““‘Nettie!” *Jim!" she said, with a slow poign- ant utterance, as though in fear of him. It was she! Nettie! But how — ? Nettie — with this Swede! And, sent by heaven or hell, he had rescued her! The shock knocked speech from him. Nettie! The Swedish captain intervened. “I would like to explain, Captain,” he said in his somewhat precise Eng- lish, “‘if you will allow me — " “Explain nothing!”’ Captain Brice replied harshly. He swung to his wife in a sudden fierce anger that shot his bewilderment as with red. *It’s for you to explain! How were you on that ship?”’ She smiled. He had never seen that smile on the rather pathetic features of the little woman who, for five years, had been his wife. with an obvious effort of courage. “I loved him from the moment 1 met him. 1 realized suddenly that I'd never loved you — although I'd al- ways tried to be a good wife. This was different. I wasn’t afraid with him. We love each other. He asked me to come away with him, and I came.” She paused a moment. ‘“When — things went wrong — and your ship radioed that you were coming to our help, that was terrible. I couldn’t help praying that we might sink before you ar- rived. You've always made me so afraid of you, Jim.” She was trembling now. She dared to stand up to him — and tell him that she had left him for an- other man! Good Lord, if he had known it, he would have let her drown! He could kill her now. His big fists clenched automatically. The Swede stepped in between, ap- prehensive of that imminent violence. The ship crashed and shuddered, rose to free herself from a new cascade. “‘Captain,” said the Swede, “I mean to marry Nettie — you can apply for a divorce —"' Brice snarled. “Divorce — hell! I'd like to put you back on your ship, you damned squarehead! Put both of you back!"’ The woman drew a deep breath, bravely. ““Jim,” she said, staggering a little as the ship plunged, ‘‘you can do what you like to me — but I'm never com- ing back to you.” She glanced at the Swede. Brice had never before real- ized that he loved her so appallingly. That fond glance was like a knife in him. There was no solution. Their ship was gone — and he had rescued them. *I love Erik — with all my soul!”” she said. The Atlantic howled, mocking Brice’s soul. He gripped himself, laughed suddenly. . ““That’s all right with me,” he said, brutally. ““You can marry him. My wife's in Frisco — or Cape Town. I forget which was first.” She stared at him. “Jim — that’s not true!” ““You bet it is!”” he said. ‘‘What the hell! I'm a sailor. One in every port!” The End