Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 145: what you’re looking at

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

thick carpeted stairs after her. hear the genile raindrops sounding @ a “MYSTERY OF ‘VOODOO MANOR. “$0, stifiing an a imiptiee to remain away from the ill emened room, I pattered up the 1 could requiem to the accompaniment. of the soughing wind in the pine tree tops. And again was borne home to me the sient of the house. Without the dissonance of speech we entered the room—or rather Nancy did. IE stood backed against the closed daor. She went to the trunk and looked down upon it with a strange expression, half awe, half compassion, filtermg across her features. ‘“T first searched the trunk,” she ex- plained. -‘‘ But its secret was then lost on me. Next I went about the room. Un- successfully. “So back again I came to my bequest. Despite my failure to find any enlighten- ment there at first, I knew it must be there. I took out everything again. EI went through the lining, tapping the trunk. “Then Isat in a brown study. I felt reasonably sure that the fortune in ‘ tear drops ’ was not cached in this trunk. But a directive message was probably there, It might-be set down on very thin paper. So methodically I began to withdraw certain tacks.” Hypnotically my eves ‘ran over the shining conical heads, beading the edges of the sturdily bound trunk. They stopped at the significant thirteen on the end toward me. Nancy followed the route of my eyes. Half perceptibly she nodded. She put out a slender hand. Full from the center of the lower curve in these brass heads fashioning the three, she picked out a single conical headed tack which she had pre- viously loosened. “ See,” she said, stepping toward me, “TI put it back nearly as I found it, that you should share in the joy of the find, even though you refused to participate in the search.” _ About the slender shaft of the tack run- ning into the conical head was cunningly wound a wisp of thm paper. Delicately, Nancy’s sensitive fingers brought it out. She spread it on the palm of her hand —= THE 615 where the ink of its writing showed plainly against the white backsround of her skin. 1 read: I know that success will attend your search. For it is synonymous with you. The pearls you find inside the stuficd owl with the opal eyes on the mantel. Success to you always. FELicts Lorrc. “ T left the” vivisection ’ of the ow! until you came,” Nancy declared, going swiftly to the mantel. The two of us sat on the floor as her quick fingers flew over the feathered _ trophy with its blazing opalescent. ortig. Tt 3 ,clever place for concealment. — Doubtless she depended upon this super- stition, secure in the thought that any opal adorned object would be doubly repellent to the ordinary searcher after her death—par- ticularly should it occur suddenly or vio- lently as the poor mistress of Voodoo Manor had so strangely sensed. A penknife was busy following certain lines cunningly left by the clever Sands of Felicia Loring. Then from inside the bird came forth a chamois pouch. Nancy turned the contents on her lap. An astounding array of satiny. drops looked up at us! And among the pear shaped beauties were some of those rare gems in pearldom, the pink ones. “A considerable fortune,” she recog- nized, placing them back with thoughtful, gentle fingers. “They must remain in their feathered safe for a bit longer. This luckless room is equal to a strong box. People will avoid it as they do a malignant pest. Such is il fame?” “ But those ill omened knives, Nancy?” I remembered. “ Ah, yes,” she responded, “T shall see to it that both are returned with all expe- dition to their native Hindu province. They have worked harm enough already te leave them longer in this country.” Once again we pattered dewn the wide staircase. And I knew that when the great — gates should clang behind us, the mystery _ of Voodoo Manor would always be double starred across the strange pages of our END 3 —Comicbooks-co