HomeMy WebLinkAboutZurich Herald, 1934-02-15, Page 2SYNOPSIS.
As the liner Wallaroo sails from Lon-
don five crates of opium are removed
and returned to the warehouse of Messrs,
Xing, adjoining that of J'o .Lung, one of.
the biggest "fences" in London, Matt
Xearney, correspondent of a New 'Rork
newspaper, has just said good-bye to his
sister Eileen, a passenger, At the request
of Detective Inspeotor Dawson Haig,
Matt accompaniesNorwich, one of
Haig's Scotland Yard men, to Jo Lung's.
Matt Ands a notebook dropped by Yu'an
:dee See, and Norwich is murdered soon
after leaving Matt, Yu'an and Jo Lung
escape in a motor cruiser to France,
Haig goes to Marseilles and boards the
Wallaroo there, One of the Wailaroo's
passengers complains• that his cabin has
been searched. •
CHAPTER XII,—(Cont'd.)
"Can you give me a list of the miss-
ing articles?" anted Winter, the pur-
ser.
Mr. Len Chow, his spectacled face
unemotional, replied that none were
missing.
"Then what's the raw about?"
"The thief must be apprehended.
He has rifled my papers. They are of
great personal value."
"But no value to anyone else?"
"No: '
"Are any missing?"
"No."
There was silence for some mom-
ents. "P11 make inquiries, Mr. Len
Chow, naturally," said Winter; "but
as you say he has stolen nothing, I
really don't know how we are going
to identify this person. Do you?"
"I cannot say. But I must be pro-
tected from such visits."
"I'll see what can be done."
At about which time, Dawson Haig,
with his eabin door locked, was rapidly
making pencil notes, while his memory
served him. He had been unable to
complete his investigation, owing to
the unexpected movements in the cabin
which immediately faced that of Mr.
Len Chow. He much regretted the dis-
order in which he had been compelled'
to leave the latter's apartment. It
had been this or discovery, however.
Briefly, he had learned that Mr.
Chow, according to his passport, was
an American citizen, and that he could
have been in England only a week, or
possibly less, at the time that the Wal-
laroo sailed. He found a receipted bili
from the Grand Hotel, Birininghana.
It was sufficient to convince Haig that
Mr. Chow had been engaged upon the
frustrated dope.:smuggling enterprise;
had probably been responsible for safe
delivery in Sydney, to which port, ap-
parently, he was booked,
A puzzling feature of his passport,
which spoke of extensive travelling,
mostly in the Near East, was a visa
bearing yesterday's date, by the Egyp-
tian Consul in Marseilles, which
strongly suggested that Mr. C'how's
plans had been changed and that he',
was going ashore at Port Said.
Haig presently presented himself in
the captain's cabin. There he remain-
ed for a whole hour busily transcrib-
iivg from the borrowed Marconi books.
a number of incoming messages and
outgoing messages, received or dis-
patched by the suspected five. While
some of the messages seemed innocent
,enough, others, notably those sent by
Dr. Oestler, quite obviously were com-
piled in some sort of code.
Haig went to his cabin and settled
down before the little table to see what
he could make of this new material.
The half-caste woman known as
Miss Ednam, and supposed to be a
vaudeville artist, Mr. Len Chow, and
Dr. Oester were the suspects whose
names appeared in the Marconi books.
Studying a list of telegraphic ad-
dresses, which the captain had borrow-
ed from the wireless room, Haig dis-
covered that Mr. Chow's first two mes-
sages had been addressed to "Lilung
Causeway London."
"Excellent," he murmured. "Lilung
Causeway London" was the tele-
graphic address of Jo 'Lung's estab-
lishment in Limehouse!
The messages themselves were sim-
ple enough. They were these;
One:
"Arranged to Transfer
Chow."
Two:
"Your Friend is Signed
Chow."
"That's clear enough," Haig mused.
"Ile is informing Polodos that he
has arranged to cancel from Port Said
or
Signed
on Board
to Sydney and is leaving at the for-
mer. He later sends the information
that there is a 'friend' on board,
meaning Durham, of course. Durham
thought he was spotted. He was quite
right."
Then, in order of date was an in-
coming message which read;
"Meuriee Paris Sixteen to Eighteen
Signed Pascal"
Mr. Lan Chow's third message, ad-
dressed to "Pascal Hotel Meuriee
Paris" read:
"Your Friend Leaving Us at Mar-
seilles Signed Chow"
At which moment carne the sound of
a loud rap on the cabin door, Dawson
Haig hastily adjusted his tinted
glasses. .
Eileen Kearney stood outside. In a
green jumper. suit and beret, her
cheeks freshened and her eyes bright-
ened by sea breezes, she looked absurd-
ly young and disturbingly beautiful.
"You positively startled me, Eileen,"
he said. "For heaven's sake, cut in
quickly. Did anybody see you?"
"No!" she said breathlessly. "But
I heard someone corning along the
main alleyway and had to run!" She
stepped inside and closed the odor.
"It's good to see you," Haig declar-
ed. "But, according to our arrange-
ments at Marseilles, I'm not supposed
to know you yet! What's happened?"
"This," Eileen replied,, speaking
very rapidly: "Last night I was awak-
ened by someone banging at a near -
cabin door. I distinctly heard hum
say, 'Marconi message.'"
"That would be Dr. Oestler's cabin,"
said Haig. He stooped over his notes,
scanning them rapidly until he carne
to the last of several messages re-
ceived by Dr. Oestler. "That must
have been about half -past three this
morning?" he suggested.
"It was. Do you mean that you have
the message there?"
Dawson Haig :•.nniled wally. "I cer-
tainly have it here," he replied. "Shall
I read it to you?"
"Yes, please do. Then I can tell
you if—"
"Tell me what?"
"If it's the same."
Haig stared at her in a certain be-
wilderment, then: "This is it," he said:
"Oestler Passenger RMS Wallaroo
IBJH Keeper Searchlight Near Horne
Stop Know Tell"
He looked up smiling. "Does that
convey anything to you, Eileen?"
"No!" she confessed blankly, watch-
ing
atching hien. "It isn't the sante. Of course
you can't possibly know what I'm talk-
ing about, so I must explain. While
I was in the bath this morning that
sudden squall of wind and rain came.
Do you remember?"
Haig nodded.
"I had opened the porthole and fas-
tened the door back to freshen the air
in my cabin, and Dr. Oestler, whose
cabin adjoins mire, must have done the
same. Because, when I got back—I
returned first—a lot of papers which
had been lying loose on my table had
been blown right out into the main
alleyway."
Dawson Haig was thinking, "I have
so little to offer this glorious girl. Yet,
if I lose her life won't be worth a hoot.
It seems like Fate that we've been
brought together."
"I didn't realize until I looked
through them, that some of the papers
didn't belong to me. There ere sheets
of notes in German, some sort of scien-
tific leaflet, and one or two other odds
and ends, which I gave to the steward-
ess, asking her to find out where they
had come from. I suggested, as his
door was open, that they probably be-
longed to Dr. Oestler. I was right,
and he sent a message back, thanking
me. But later, when I was dressed, I
found another fragment."
She slipped a hand into a pocket of
her jumper and produced a half sheet
of thin paper. "When I saw this,"
she continued, and her voice grew very
serious, "I thought you ought to know
at once."
Haig removed
glasses and took
Eileen's hand.
upon the paper
words:
"Haig Chief Inspector Scotland Yard
On Board. Identify and Advise,"
Mr. Smith's tinted
the torn sheet from
Scribbled in pencil
were the following
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CHAPTER XIII,.
,Alone one more, but unaccountably
happy amid his difficulties, Dawson
Haig bent over his notes. Eileen had
slipped in unnoticed. Sheer leek, and.
her lteen wit, had come to his. aid,
Dr. Oestler's pencilled scrawl was
obviously a translation of the mes-
sage:
"IBJH Head Keeper Searchlight Near
Hone Stop Know Tell,"
Its deadly sinplieity betrayed gen-
ius. The IBJH was .elementary, the
letters being merely those next in the
alphabet to Haig, but the fact that
"Head Keeper' Searchlight meant
Chief Inspector Scotland Yard, was
one which no cryptographer could ever
be expected to discover. "Near Home"
evidently corresponded to On Board;
"!Known" to Identify; "Tell" to Ad-
vise.
It was a system of analogies, and
he proceeded to apply it to the other
messages, with the result that by luneh
time he was satisfied that at least
the gist of these was in his possession.
He leaned back in his chair and
whistled softly. Five members of this
mysterious organization, prefesssedlY
strangers to one another, were travel-
ling in the Wallaroo, and Dr. Oestler
was.evidently the Chief. But the pur-
pose behind it all remained unfathom-
able as ever. Three were booked to
Port Said (since Mr. Len Chow had
arranged to cancel his further pass-
age) ; two to Australia.
What did their presence in the ship
mean? And what was the connection
with the Limehouse murder? He was
baffled, Perhaps the most alarming
feature of the case was the fact that
these people seemed to be suplied with
deadly accurate information. Durham
had been identified, so much was evi-
dent. Now they knew that he, Haig,
was on board! Since he could not
recall having ever seen one of the
suspects in his life—Franz Hartog ex-
cepted—he inclined to the idea that
Durham as well as himself, had been
notified to Dr. Oestler from some well
informed source.
He bent over the messages which he
had decoded. Those sent by the wo-
man obviously related to the chief en-
gineer, one of them reading:
"Organ Grinder Sure Stop Big Boy
And Next of Kin Not Running Signed
Val"
This he had translated as follows:
"Chief engineer captured; Com-
mander and chief officer no good. Val."
That this meant that Corcoran had
been bought over and become a party
to some crooked deal, Haig did not be-
lieve fOor a moment. He read it to
mean that the infatuated engineer was
playing into the woman's hands. He
was to beeused, in some way, without
his knowledge.
But -Haig stared up at the port-
hole
orthole and asked the question aloud: "In
what way?"
(To be continued.)
:An Exotic Menu
Two hungry Canadians walked into
the Hotel Central in Panama City the
other day. In this sleepy old Spanish
town, they were keen in the expecta-
tion of enjoying a luncheon of strange
and delectable tropical foods, quite
different from anything they could.
get at home. The bill of fare, written
in the Spanish of the country, prom-
ised well. It offered:
Ensalada de Ren:olachas
Sopa de Frijoles
Chuleta de Puerco Frito, Salsa
Manzaaia
Papas Lyonesa
Mazorca
Pan Y Mantequilla
Cafeote
Canny, they asked for a transla-
tion. Then they learned that this ex-
otic bill of fare really conpzised the
following:
Pickled Beets Salad
Puree of Native Beans
Fried Pork Chop, Apple Sauce
Lyonnaise Potatoes
Corn on the Cob
Rolls and Butter
Coffee or Tea
The Canadians decided that they
:night just as well be lunching in a
Chinese restaurapt in a prairie town.
Finally some gesticulatory convex-.
sation with a semi -comatose waiter
produced a baked corbina and iced
papayas. Panama's reputation as
host was saved,—Financial Post.
How to Cure an
Inferiority Complex
Delicious
Quality
GREEN
T
715
Also in Black
and Mixed
Pithy Anecdotes
Of the Famous
"In John Forster's account of Dick-
ens' visit to Montreal (in 1832) there
occurs one of the few out-and-out er-
rors to be found In that magnificent
work," says Stephen Leacock (in his
long-awaited—and well worth waiting
for—"Charles Dickens: His Life and
Work"). "Misled no doubt by. Dickens'
handwriting in the letters he received,
he says that Dickens and his wife
stayed at Peaseo's Hotel. This is in-
correct. Recent researches personally
conducted in front of the hotel (still
standing, in St. Paul S'.'.) show that
the name (still legible) Is Rasco's
Hotel. ,All research workers in the
history of our literature will and in
this correction of a standing error a
distinct contribution to our knowledge
of the life and character of Dickens
and an ample justification of the pre-
sent volume."
e * 5
By the way, and as an ample justi-
fication of the present praragraph, re -
rent researches personally conducted
show that Professor Leacock (or is
it the printer? or the proofreader?)
is incorrect in referring—on page 15—
to "the Dodson and Foggs, the Vho-
leses, the Parkers, and the Tuiking-
horns," etc. I can hear all Dickensi-
ans, including the Professor, shout:
"Isn't he perky?"
* * *
"And pray, Mr, Lamb," asked a lady
of dear old Charles Lamb, "how do
you like children?"
"B -b -boiled, ma -ad -am," he replied
in his stuttering way.
* * * .
In one of Mrs. Clemens letters to her
famous husband (Mark Twain) when
he was away from home on a lecture
tour, she wrote:
"This afternoon Susie (a small
daughter) and I had a rather sad time
because she told me alie—she felt
very unhappy about it This evening I
Prayed for her that she might be for-
given for it. Then I said: 'Susie, don't -
you want to pray about it and ask for
yourself to be forgiven?"
„'Oh, one's enough,' she replied."
A chip off the old block.
* * *
And that reminds me of a story
told by Mrs. Alice M. Willamson, the
novelist (who passed on recently), in
her reminiscences "The Inky Way."
A Loudon doctor was prescribing for a
pretty girl.
"My child,' he said, "the trouble is
with our little tummy. We must diet."
"All right, doctor," the docile child
sighed. 'What color?"
• * 5 5
Israel Zaukwill was no beauty—in
fact he was fascinatingly ugly, When
Mrs. Williamson — an American by
birth—first met him—he- and Maeter-
linck came to lunch with her and her
husband, C. N. Williamson—she rath-
er stared a little.
"Well," said Zangwill, "I know I'm
considered the ugliest man in London,
if not in England. Many people be-
lieve that I ought to have been born
centuries earlier, to inspire gargoyles.
Am I better or worse than you expect-
ed?„
"To sucha challenge I hardly knew
what answer to give, "but I stammer-
ed some banality about having thought
so muck about his books I'd bad no
Wile to think of his looks."
g * * *
Lack of self-confidence, nervousness,
blushing in company and other symp-
toms of what is termed the inferiority
comple, seem to trouble, a number of
people.
Now, the case of all these things
is that the sufferer things too much
of what others think , of him.
The remedy lies not in medicine,
but in yourself, Beyond advising ton-
ics, sound diet and fresh air,, aa doe -
tor can do little when the patient is
tbviously on the way to it1-health as
a result of worries.
It is useless and harmful to spend
the best yearsoflife
wondering
ring
what others think of you, especially ,
when you are convinced that such
thoughts are the reverse of flatterin,';.I
Try to adopt the attitude that you;
are as good, if not better, than your
fancied critics. Von should realize
that life is much too short for others
to worry about, your particular
trouble.
1f woman's intuition. Is so wanderfns
why dues she ask so many questions?
Can you imagine an author writing
six serial stories at one time! Yet
Mrs, Williamson did. It is true that
she bad the help of her husband, 0. N.
Williamson, who, however, had no
part in the actual writing. In the ear-
ly days of her career, she accepted a
commission from Lord Northcliffe—
or Sir Alfred Harmsworth, as he was
then—to begin six serials for simul-
taneous publication in his newspapers
and magazines.
* * * *
While she was writing them, in her
"spare time," she also began a travel
book—"The Lightning Conductor"--
which became a best-seller on both
sides of the Atlantic.
"I used to feel guilty about speud-
hig time on "The Lightning Conduct-
or'," recalled Mrs. Wiliiainson, "lest
I should be tempted to neglect the six
serials, and often I worried so much
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that I fell victim to one terrible dream,
It was always the same,
"I had got the serials mixed, and
had given the lover of heroine number
one to heroine number two, and so on
through the list. In the dream, also, a
heroine or a hero who had started out
with brown eyes suddenly "developed
orbs blue as sapphires, in the mix-up of
characters. Their names got switched
around, too. But fortunately nothing
of this kind happened, except in night-
mares."
* * * *
The genuine poetical turn and the
studied affectation of Oscar Wilde's
character are well illustrated In this
incident related by Frederic Whyte
(in his biography of William Heine-
mann, the publisher). Whyte had gone
to Paris to see the author of "Salome"
about some work he was to do for
Heinemann. He found Oscar wearing
deep mourning and looking very mel-
ancholy.
* a •* *
Naturally Whyte thought Wilde was
suffering from some recent and cruel
bereavement and cautiously ventured
an inquiry on the delicate subject, only
to receive the unexpected reply:
"This happens to be my birthday,
and I am mourning (as, I shall hence-
forth do on each of my anniversaries)
the flight of one year of my youth into
nothingness, the growing blight upon
my Summer."-
* 5 5 5
After leaving Cambridge, Hugh Wal-
pole joined a mission for Liverpool
seamen—his father being Bishop of
Edinburgh but the enthusiastic young
man was no match for the smooth-
tongued and oily sailors who loved to
bait unwary missioners, says Mar-
guerite Steen (in "Hugh Walpole.")
He consoled himself by reading "Frau-
lein Schmidt and Mr. Anstruther,"
which was appearing serially in the
"Cornhill Magazine," and committing
some of his enthusiasm to a letter to
its author, "Elizabeth." (Pen name of
Countess Arnim, afterwards the Count-
ess Russell).
a7 * * * -
In due time he received an answer
saying what a nice young man he
sounded and inviting him to tea, "Eliza-
beth liked the romantic -minded, and
good-looking young man and immedi-
ately invited him to become the tutor
of her three little daughters—the
April, May and June babies—in Ger-
many the following Autumn.
"Until September Hugh lived in a
pleasant dream in which 'Elizabeth'
occupied the centre of the stage and
the babies barely a corner," adds Miss
Steen. "But upon his arrival, the full
enormity of the fact that he knew
nothing at all' about instructing the
Young threw him into a panic, It was
not long before he returned to England
with the first draft of a novel in his
bag."
* * * *
One great disappointment of his
childhood that Hugh Walpole remem-
bers was the time he was given, ba
his reverend father, the choice of see.
ing Wilson Barrett in "The Sign of the
Cross" and Beerbohm Tree in "Henry
IV." Tremulous with excitement,
Hugh stammered out his preference
for "Tile Sign of the Cross." The pe,
ternal brow clouded.
"Come, conte, now, Hugh! Thins{
again: "Shakespeare, you know!."
In spite of the note of admonish•
sent and warning in his father's voice
the quaking Hugh proffered, from the
depths of bis desirous heart, a dither,
Mg reiteration of his formes' choice.
an act of untoward daring that met
with its awful deserts.
"I'm disappointed in you, Hugh!"
The Waipoles went to. "Henry IV,"
and to rub it in, as it were, the outing
was referred to as "Hugh's Treat!"
* * * *
"Elizabeth's second husband, that
late Earl Russell, whose brother(
Bertrand Russell, the author, succeeds,
ed to the title on his death) told this
story in his book "My Life and Re+
miniseences":
"My grandmother, Lady John Rus-
sell, was a great favorite with. Queen
Victoria throughout her life. Not
alone, of course, because she had the
peculiar and unusual capacity of wag
ing her ears like a dog. But this ac-
complishment intrigued the Queen,
and she suddenly called on Lady John
to show it off to an Ambassador. My
grandmother was so taken aback that
she lost for a long time the power to
move either ear, and only ultimately
regained the power to move one,
which she occasionally did for my edi-
fication."
DIANA GOLD
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