Adventure, June 1911 — page 173: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

‘the Emerald Buddha must have secured the Emerald Buddha and taken it with them; the empty case, I remembered, lay upon the table. What then, could this Chinaman be searching for with such evident eagerness and anxiety? With a few rapid steps I crossed the in- tervening hall and appeared in the doorway. He at-once appeared confused, and made a quick pretense of being busily occupied in the business of setting the room to rights. Then I became aware of a curiously pungent, yet sweet, aromatic odor, which had some- thing vaguely familiar about it, and sud- denly it flashed into my mind that this was the curious scent I had noticed upon Miss Temple’s handkerchief—the one dropped by her in Ashton’s room. After some careful experimenting, [ found that it came from a small cake of soap, of a dull green color, which lay upon the wash- stand where it had evidently been left by Ashton. I picked it up, observing its per- fume closely, then, noticing that the China- man was regarding me with a particularly malevolent gaze, I retired to my room, taking the soap with me. I had no definite purpose in this except to keep it in order to identify the perfurne. I threw it into my satchel and completed the arrangements for my departure. etme I WAS soon ready to go, and after =a leaving my bag with one of Mc- Quade’s men, who was to accompany us~to the railway station, I sought Miss Temple in the hope of saying good-by to her before my departure. I was lucky enough to find her in the library, sewing, and looking unusually pale and distressed. She greeted me with rising color, and I confess that I, too, felt a trifle of embarrassment. But the beauty of her face, the clear, honest expres- sion of her eyes once more convinced me that whatever were her reasons for silence they did not in any way implicate her in this tangled affair. “T have come to say good-by,” I said. “Oh, are you going—I did not know——” She half rose, her face filled with lively concern. “Tm afraid I’ve already overstayed my time,” I replied. ‘After all, Miss Temple, I came as a stranger and must thank you _ and your father for making me as welcome as you have under the existing painful cir- cumstances.”’ “T have not thought of you as a stranger, 359 Mr. Morgan,” she answered simply. ‘You have been a great help during this trying ordeal, and I am sorry that you must go— very sorry.”” There was a ring of sincerity in her voice that thrilled me. My heart gave a leap, and as I met her eyes I realized all of a sudden that go where I might, I could not go very far away from Muriel Temple. “TI do not go because I desire it,” I replied, in a voice from which I could not eliminate the depth and intensity of my feelings, ‘‘but if it lies in my power I intend to find the solution, of this terrible affair. My reward, if I can do so, will be the knowledge that I have served you.”’ | “You are very good, Mr. Morgan. I shall never forget it—never!” She rose and placed her hand in mine, and allowed it to remain there for a monent—a moment which seemed far too short to me. “And when you have good news, you will come to The Oaks and tell us about it, will you not?” she concluded, with a smile that went to my heart. . “Indeed I shall, Miss Temple—you may be sure of that! And I hope it may be soon.” “So do I,” she said, and I turned to leave her. Then I suddenly bethought myself of the strange Oriental perfume. “Miss Tem- ple,” I said, with some hesitation—“ you will pardon me, I know, but you may re- member that the handkerchief which was found in Mr. Ashton’s room was strongly scented with a powerful Oriental perfume. May I ask what that perfume is, and where you procured it?” “‘Perfume?” she ejaculated, in surprise. “Why, Mr. Morgan, I never use any— never!” “You never use any?” I stammered. “But it was upon your handkerchief—I thought that perhaps you might have got it during your travels in China.” “The handkerchief was mine, Mr. Mor- gan—that is true, but of the perfume I know absolutely nothing. Why do you ask?” I hardly knew what reply to make. The identity of the perfume of the soap and the handkerchief meant nothing—pointed to nothing, and yet I could not shake off the idea that there was some intimate connec- tion between them which would go far toward solving the mystery of Robert Ash- ton’s death. I bade her good-by with some simple explanation of my question, and hur- ried out to find McQuade. Go DOOKS CO AMUC