Adventure, December 1914 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

20 had been back of and a little to one side of Neumeyer’s chair, was a clump of bushes, and as Kennedy approached, in order to see whether it would be possible to climb up to the window, he pushed aside the fronds of leaves. : 3 Suddenly he bent down, I thought at first to look for footprints. Instead, he picked up a short cylinder, an inch or so long and a little more than half an inch in diam- eter. It was on what looked to me like a thin reed stick three or four inches long, and the cylinder itself was of a light buff- brown. — _ Who had dropped it, I wondered? He gave a glance upward which assured him that it was entirely possible for any one of somewhat more than ordinary agility to reach the window-sill by a leap and then pull himself up to it. Then he released the bushes and rejoined me. “What is it?” I asked. Kennedy was looking at the little reed stick, on the end of which was the small buff- brown cylinder. He turned it over and over, noticing a place where a minute fragment had evidently been broken off. Finally he dug his nail into it. The mass was comparatively soft. As he rubbed his nail gingerly over the tip of his tongue, he puckered his face and quickly rubbed his tongue vigorously with his handkerchief, as if the taste had been extremely acrid. ‘“‘Even that little speck that adhered to my nail,’”’ he observed, “‘makes my tongue tingle and feel numb yet.” He turned without a word further and re- entered the house, mounting the steps to the quarters occupied by Neumeyer. ‘‘Have you discovered anything yet?” he asked of Sinclair who was still busily en- gaged going over the archeologist’s treasures. “T can’t say,’ answered Sinclair slowly. ‘There was an inscription over which Neu- meyer and I had puzzled a great deal—on a small block of porphyry. I don’t see it.”’ “It came from Mitla?” asked Kennedy casually, | “Yes,” replied Sinclair, still rummaging in the mass of stuff. Mitla, as I already knew, was south of the city of Oaxaca, in the state of that name; and there, I recalled, were situated the prop- erties and the railroad interests of Sinclair, in which Mrs. Hawley had told us she too was interested. In the ruined palaces of Mitla was the Adventure crowning achievement of the old Zapotec kings. In fact, no ruins in America, I had heard, were more elaborately ornamented or richer in material for the archeologist. As Kennedy himself looked about, we could see that Neumeyer had brought up porphyry blocks on which was much hiero- glyphic painting, peculiarly well preserved in that dry atmosphere. There were many sculptured stones and mosaics. Here were jugs, there were cups, vases, all sorts of utensils. Many of the articles had a relig- ious significance, and there were little figures of gods and sacrificial stones. In fact there was packed on shelves and into corners of the room enough stuff almost to equip a fair- sized museum. One thing I noticed now which had not at- tracted my attention at first in our surprise. It was an idol, a hideous thing, which sat on the desk directly in front of where Neu- meyer had been seated. Squatted and coiled about it were frogs and snakes. I could not help feeling that this terrible image was a fitting piece to have accom- panied the gruesome occupant of the narrow room during his long vigil. Indeed, the mere sight of it sent a shudder over me. If I had been inclined to the superstitious, I might certainly have been pardoned for be- lieving that it had in some way wreaked its revenge upon the man for having disturbed the resting-places of the private and public deities of this long-dead race. However, not being superstitious, I knew that it must have been’ something very much alive, though diabolical in its nature, which had really been the cause of the tragedy. fae DR. LESLIE reappeared, bringing (v@ee| the caretaker of the house, an old —"* woman. ‘“‘Did the Professor have any visitors yes- terday?” asked Kennedy as the care-taker paused on the threshold of the now ghastly little room, completely unnerved by the tragedy that had been so close without her apparently knowing it. ‘“‘Did you see any one about who looked suspicious or hear any noises?”’ “In the afternoon,” she replied slowly, ‘“‘a rather pretty, dark woman called and asked for the Professor. She seemed very disappointed when she found that he was out.”’ “Did she look like a Mexican?” asked Kennedy. MICLOOOK C@