New Britain Herald Newspaper, December 11, 1922, Page 12

Ing of the 17th of December, must have been three of the most desperate adventurers in the world, They were evidently broken men at the end of their tether, willing to stake every- thing on a last chance, or they would not have joined Chauvannes, They were not men he selected, He never would have selected men of this char- acter, They seem to have followed him in and to have literally annexed themselves to his expedition when he left the Congo east of the Leopold, They must have been an exquisite devil's-guard-—those three; the little wolf-faced Apache Leture, the Finn sallor, and the American beachcomber they called Captain Dix. ““The Apache was the one who came In with the journal. He must have been, after all, what you would call the 'best man’ of the three., Never- theless it was these three hell-birds who came out alive with Chauvannes. And what he had to say about them is on every page of the journal. He must have changed his mind very shortly after they joined him, because the first impressions he wrote down, which were probably what our own would have been, were afterward scratched out, We might have be- lieved that some one else had made Qriumphs of 2 - M:Jonquelie . 'ky MELVILLE DAVISSOhlJnFOST P " e © 1999 NEA Semvice, ‘I think the first clew we got was the method Chauvannes had taken to be sure that the journal would get into Paris after his death, His di- rection, written on the back of it, was that the bearer who brought it in should be paid five thougand francs by the executors of his estate, You see he was offering a reward for the thing to get in, “Only one of the three men Chauvannes constantly speaks ‘of In his journal ever appeared. One can imagine what happened to the other two—the same thing, doubtless, that THE GREAT CIPHER It was a night of illusions. The whole world was unreal. The city ©ould not be seen. There was a sort of falry vista extending over the gardens @cross the bit of park Into the haze, plerced by the narrow white shaft of the National Monument extending into the sky. 'There was a heavy odor of jessa- mine and honeysuckle lying about the southern portico of the Executive Mansion, But there were no lights. The whole of the portico was in heavy shadow. A big strong, masculine \lrolce, cultivated and firm, was speak- ng. that “I am glad that business of your embassy brought you to America, Monsieur Jonquelle,” it said, “because I wanted to ask you about that last expedition of Chauvannes', 1 knew Chauvannes in South Africa. He was a first class man. What was the mystery about his death? The cur- rent report at the time could not have | been the truth. It was too fantas- tic.” One might have made out the figure of the Frenchman by looking closely in the dim light. He sat in a long chair, his legs extended, a cigarette, unlighted, moving in his fingers. His voice ‘was low and clear when he| spoke, like one engaged with a . re- flection. “It was all the truth, Excellency,” he sald, “as we now know." The big voice interrupted. fantastic story!” The ; Frenchman's change, “The, truth about it,” he said, “is even more fantastic than the current story of the time. Nobody believed it. Wthen his journal finally came in, everybody thought Chauvannes had gone mad before the end. The things he Wrote down simply could not have “That voice did not “THEY MUST HAVE EXQUISITE THESE THREE." these erasures but for the fact that the journal from this time on never fails to speak of these three men in the highest terms. Thelr tirelessness, their energy, their courage, thelr devotion to Chauvannes is the one note that continues through this jour- nal to the end. “Of course, one could say that as these men had to depend on Chau- vannes to bring them out the pres- ence of a common peril would have united them in his support and that while they were apparently exerting themselves for him, they were, in fact, laboring to get out of that wilderness alive. “They were evidently densely ig- norant persons of a low order, every one of them. The Finn and the American beachcomber had no educa- tion whatever; Leturc could read, he was a deserter we think, from the Foreign Legion——and he had a sort of devil's shrewdness. But he was no match, when it came to wits, for Chauvannes. None of them were. They were ignorant and superstitious, But they were determined, desperate BEEN AN DEVIL'S GUARD— bappened to all the persons who started with Chauvannes northeast to to the last degree and afrald of nothing. Z “One of the features of the journal When this group of dancers from a Broadway Revue arrived at Sing Sing to give an entertain- ment for the prisoners they were informed by the warden that there was “nothing doing.” A let- ter, purporting to have been written by a member of the Prison Reform association, seems incredible that you have selected these naked girls for the entertainment of the conviets.” At any rate, the performers left the prison in a huff and there was no, show. stated “it to come out the best man, and he laid the plan he had in mind to fit that eventuality, And he was right. I saw that when I got to thinking about the journal. “And I saw something else. I saw that Chauvannes realized his own situation pretty early in the march of events, He knew what he was going into. And he knew where the thing would lead He realized it a long way ahead. This fact, as I have said was one of the conspicuous fea- tures of the journal. I suppose one, in an incipient madness, might realize all the accurate features of the situa- tion that lay about Chauvannes, and before him as he did; but I doubt it. I think only a man sound and sane sorted to futile devices, or to some tragic issue before the end, or to some futile hope, It took a mind like Chauvannes', profoundly sane, to see that the thing that awaited him was inevitable! “I studied that journal as closely as a cipher dispatch. The evidences of Chauvannes' mental condition did not appear until the entries beginning |about the seventeenth of December— the day on which they finally came out of the forest on the old elephant trail. Of course, strange things had happened before that—the decimation of the force for one thing. But Chau- vannes never seemed to attribute this to any but a natural cause, a sort of united plan of the dwarf camps to de- LAID ON SUNDAY SO EGGS MUST BE GOOD Woman in Minnesota Sends $10 to Children’s Home From Sale of Hennery Products, “From the sale of eggs laid on Sun- day,” read the message received by Rev. Dr. J. E. Klingberg, superin- tendent of the Children's home, when he opened a letter containing a check for $10 this week. The letter came from a woman in Minnesota. NAMED BY THE PEOPLE Over 67 years ago Rev. Father John O'Brien of Lowell, Mass, rec- ommended to his parishioners and friends the prescription that restored him to health and strength, so the people named it Father John's Medi- cine. It relieves colds, soothes and heals the breathing passages and builds up the body. : As a guarantee that ‘the story of Tather John's Medicine is absolutely true, the sum of '$25,000.00 will be given to any charitable institution if it can be shown otherwise. e — the Sunday product separately and send the money to the local institu- tion, Plans are progressing rapidly to- ;l’x‘: :;('év::‘:“}ofi:fr he had abandoned stroy the members of the expedition, The big man beyond Monsieur Jon- quelle in the dark seemed to have composed himself to listen. * He was silent and Monsieur Jonquelle ' went on: ““These men, who were the only per- sons alive with Chauvannes when he finally reached the Ituri on the morn- wards a monster Christmas’ celebra« tion at the home. Many of the young- sters will take part in a cantata to be given Christmas day in the Elim Swedish Baptist church. The chil- dren are looking forwardwith a great deal of anticipation towards their first Christmas in their new home. could have seen it with the certainty that Chauvannes saw it, and at the | distance beyond the event. Only the soundest intelligence, in the calm control of every faculty could have realized tha tthe thing before him was inevitable. A man in any other state of mind would have undertaken to He would have re- | that first impressed me was the fact that Chauvannes had no {llusions about these men. He understood each of them perfectly. He pinned the success of his great plan to an accurate conception of the Apache Leturc He thought this desperate human’ creature was what you would call the ‘best man.’ He expected him delude himself . The Children’s Home has several women in ‘WUifferent sections of the country who are in the business of raising chickens and selling eggs. These women, knowing that chickens are poor observers of the Sabbath and not wishing to realize any money on what is produced on Sunday sell happened!” He paused. Then: “But it was every word the truth, . . . There are the emeralds, in the Louvre.” The big man beyond Mensieur Jon- quelle, obscured by the thick shadow, made an exclamation of astonishment. MThe emeralds,” he said, ‘‘are of cafirse proof of the fact that Chau- vannes found some evidences of the thing he was after. But his journal | could not have been.the truth. The man who wrote the closing pages of that journal must have been mad.” The Frenchman replied with no change in his voice. . “Excellency,” he said, “the man ‘who wrote the closing pages of that journal was not only not mad, but he Wwas 89 clever that I have never ceased to admire him. He was in a desper- ate position, from which, he knew perpectly well there was no escape, and he undertook to do a thing that not only required the soundest intel- ligence, but it also required a degree of; cleverness that has not . been equalled by anybody. I feel that I ought to stand®and tncover whenever 1 thihk about Chauvannes.” . There was a sound in the darkness as'of, one drawing one's body swiftly t er ina chair, There was a t of booming in the big voice. “You amaze me!" it said. ‘“‘Of coree] ‘1 knew what Chauvannes was r. He used to talk about it when * we. were shooting on the Vaal. He had the'clew,’ he thought, to a lost civilization of an immense agé, in the great wideriess o6f Central Africa, a little north of the Congo!” JHe continued to speak in his strong, firm voice: i ;'f! was not surprised that Chau- vannes found some evidence of the thing he was looking for. He was a first-class = archaeologist. He knew all about everything of the sort that had been uncovered. And ke was a #ood, all-around explorer, none better. If there was any man in the world who could have gone from the Con- “o acrogs the old trail of the ivory raiders, fiqrtheut to the Albert Nyan- za, it was Chauvannes. I can believe that Chauvannes went in there, and that he found the evidences of the things he was looking for; but the journal that the survivor of the ex- pedition brought in could not be true. Chauvannes was insane when he wrote it—if the excerpts 1 saw of it P (Another installment of “The Great Cypher,” wiil begin in our next issue.) Assure yourself a friendship divi- dend, select a Gift from the many listed on our Classified page. Winner of the O: Henry Memorial _ Award for the Best Short Story of 1921 . A STORY CRAMMED WITH ACTION, LOVE AND ADVENTURE IN THE WILDS OF THE CARIBOU RANGE IN BRITISH COLUMBIA, A REGION OF UNEQUALED ROMANCE This Remarkable Story Starts Thursday, December 14, In The Herald It Smacks of Mystery. WHERE DO You SUPPOSE HE \$ HELEND HE DIDN'T SAY -HUH?P DO YOU THINK HE’S AT HIS OFFICE P DOINGS OF DUFFS NO, MR, DUFF AIN'T BEEN HERE ALL NIGHT ! MR, DUFF, YOUR TAXI 1S HERE ! ALL RIGHT, MISS. LEE; JUDGE FOR YOURSELF, OLIVIA- HE SAID HE WOULLD NOT BE HOME FOR DINNER - | CALLED HIM AT THE OFFICE THIS MORNING AND THEY SAID HE WASN' T /\DT)N/'T\:(NOW WHERE HE. IS, THAT'S IT! | BELIEVE PLL CALL- 1°LL CALL HIS OFFICE. ANY WAY AND SEE IF HE'S THERE WELL, WHAT DID HE HAVE TO SAY - WAS HE MORE AGREEABLE THAN HE WAS LAST NIGHT ? SAY. HELEN, | WON'T BE HOME FOR DINNER | HAVE A COUPLE OF ERRANDS TO GO ON AND WON'T BE HOME. UNTIL ABOUT NINE. OCLOCK = | CAN'T HELP IT- GOODBYE * were not colored " Monsieur Jonquelle replied in same even volee, “*Our government, Excellency,” he said, "‘was precisely of your opinion, when the journal finally came in They thought Chauvannes was mad at the end. But he was not mad! He was sane and clever—~how sane and how clever you will realize when you get the whole thing clearly in your mind, It was a long time before we understood it although how we could have been so stupid seems to me now a greater wonder than the fantastic incidents with which Chau- vannes filled the closing pages of his Journal. e ~ “Don’t Let That Cold Turn Into “Flu” Rub on Good Old Musterole That cold may turn into “Flu,” Grippe or, even worse, Pneumonia, unless you take care of it at once. Rub good old Musterole on the con- gested parts and see how quickly it brings relief. Colds are merely congestion. Mus- terole, made from pure oil of mustard, camphor, menthol and other simple ingredients, is a counter-irritant which stimulates circulation and helps break up the cold. Aseffective as the messy old mustard glnm', it does the work without the ster, the $ALESMAN $AM 7 TwTs T MAN, OFFICER — WE CHARGED ME. 254 FOR A DOZEN £6GS '!" — THE ROBBERM! © WELL CWIEF - HERE'S MY FOR TH LOVN MIKE. 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