HOLIDAY COMPLEXIONS

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 869, 13 January 1930, Page 5

HOLIDAY COMPLEXIONS

On a holiday woman naturally lives more out of doors. That, of course, means more exposure to sunshine and the elements. After an indoor life it isn’t fair to expect the skin to adapt itself so quickly to the changed conditions. In de Maunay’s No. 77 Vanishing Cream, 2s 6d, and its proper complement No. 77 Complexion Powder, 2s Cd, the texture of the skin is preserved and the freshness maintained. These are sponsored by Sharland and Co., Ltd., Auckland and Wellington, and obtainable at all chemists and toilet departments. RUTH.

newed dread; to the other it meant but the thrill of mystery. “William found it in the same place as the other —on the stand in the vestibule,” explained Julia breathlessly. “He says—”

Mr. Craig slammed the door shut and bolted it. With a few scurrying strides he was back at the table, examining the superscription. 'The clear, keen type, testifying to the use of a fresh ribbon, struck him with a note of familiarity at once. The texture of the envelope as well as the typed line across its face was identically the same as in the case of the earlier letter. With trembling fingers he ripped the margin from the envelope and drew out a sheet of paper. In a moment his eyes were racing over the closely-typed lines. This letter was longer than the other and its tone more personal. He read: My Dear Mr. Craig: I find myself in immediate need of ten million dollars, and I am appealing* to yourself and nine other wealthy men for a temporary loan of one-tenth of that amount. The money will be returned with interest within a year, possibly within a few months. Unfortunately I am unable to offer you security, but you may be aware that even my enemies—and I have accumulated a choice collection of them — admit that my word is as good as a bond. Taking your acquiescence for granted I wish to inform you that an associate of mine will call on you within the next forty-eight hours. You are to deliver the money to him, preferably in one thousand dollar' Federal Reserve notes, after he has* identified himself by the countersign “Frey—Ninetyeight,” which he will whisper in your ear. You are a man of high intelligence, so it will not be necessary to warn you that I have made arrangements which will defeat in advance any attempt on your part to detain my agent when he calls for the money or to embarrass me in any other way. The name which you will see at the bottom of this letter should be ample assurance that any such ill-advised effort will result in failure. I trust, my dear Mr. Craig, that this appeal to your generosity will have the desired effect. I should deeply regi'et having to resort to sterner measures. Again assuring you that the loan will positively be repaid within a year, together with interest at highest prevailing ratesS, 1 am Faithfully yours, Tlie Gray Phantom. The letter fell from Mr. Craig's fingers. He sat back in the chair and dazedly blinked his eyes. His first impression upon reading the opening paragraphs had been that somebody was perpetrating a preposterous joke. He would scarcely have finished it but for the fact that its arrival had been preceded by another and much shorter letter, containing the one line, “Frey, Climax Oil. J 9S.” At once he had suspected a connection between the two communications, and this suspicion had forced him to read on, determined to get to the bottom of his correspondent’s designs. It was all clear now. Mr. Craig laughed hysterically, as one laughs when his faculties are reeling. It was at once a relief and an added shock to learn that the author of the two letters was the Gray Phantom. People usually’ uttered the name of that audacious and highly accomplished rogue with a shiver and a thrill, and the mere sight of it in cold type had the same effect on Mr. Craig, i

The Gray Phantom! He mumbled the words in a slightly awed tone. Subjoined to the letter, that name imbued the typewritten lines with a vital, compelling emphasis which it would not have had otherwise. Mr. Craig felt just as if he had stood face to face with the Gray Phantom in person. He read the letter again, and his brain cleared a little. So all the fellow wanted was the trifling amount of a million dollars. Mr. Craig chuckled sardonically. And here was the rascal’s promise to pay the money back within a year, with interest. At least, the Gray Phantom was refreshingly original. Whoever heard of a criminal offering to make restitution before the commission of the crime? Yet the promise stood out from the letter in bold, clear type, as if it was honestly meant. Come to think of it, notwithstanding all the anathemas that had been hurled at him, the Gray Phantom had always enjoyed the reputation of never breaking a promise. Perhaps he really intended that Mr. Craig’s eyes fastened on the paragraph next to the last. “I should deeply regret having to resort to sterner measures,” he read. There w-as a threat here, a hint that the Gray Phantom would take by force what was not given voluntarily. Mr. Craig felt like laughing, but his brows contracted instead. The sentence, which would have sounded like empty bombast if written by another, acquired a potent significance frorrf-tbe personality behind it. He remembered it had been said of the Gray Phantom that he’ had never yet -failed to accomplish his object. On several occasions he had done so in the face of obstacles that seemed insuperable and by methods that staggered the imagination. Once, for instance, he had held the police at bay ■while conducting a spectacular carnival of plunder in the financial district. In* comparison with exploits of that kind, the extraction of a million dollars from Mr. Craig’s coffers was a relatively simple undertaking. His thoughts were taking a disturbing turn. Reduced to plain terms, tlie letter offered Mr. Craig two alternatives, one as objectionable as the other. If he did not voluntarily lend the Gray Phantom a million, the Gray Phantom would take the million by force. The issue was whittled down to a fine point. Not for a moment did Mr. Craig doubt that the Gray Phantom would execute his threat in case the loan should be refused. The wily scamp had proved on numerous occasions that his deed was as good as his word. A long series of startling performances had shown that his ■wits were equal to any task. To pluck a million dollars from Mr. Craig’s ample hoard would be but a mild diversion, a holiday caper. Perhaps In the end it would be cheaper to comply with the outrageous demand,

especially since it seemed that Mr. Craig had little choice in the matter. Mr. Craig felt a wave of righteous indignation rising within him. It was humiliating to think that only a short while ago he had seriously considered meek submission. Berating himself for his temporary weakness, he was already cudgelling his mind for an effective way of rebuking The Phantom’s monstrous insolence. He would communicate with the police at once. The letter should be placed in their hands immediately. The Grey Phantom’s messenger, when he arrived, would be promptly arrested. Mr. Craig would make the swaggering scamp a laughing stock. He wriggled uncomfortably in his chair. There were two things Mr. Craig loved. One was hi 3 life, the other his money, and he was not sure which should come first. If his enjoyment of the latter had not been dependent upon his possession of the former he would doubtless have prized his money above everything else. Hence his whole nature revolted violently against the mere thought of parting with a million dollars, despite the Grey Phantom's assurance that the transaction was only a temporary loan. How was Mr. Craig to know that the Grey Phantom, even with the best intentions, would be able to fulfil his promise? The Grey Phantom was leading a precarious existence. He might meet with an accident. He might die within the year, or he might be sent to gaol. A number of such possibilities occurred to Mr. Craig’s practical mind. He pondered the matter while he sat opposite his niece at luncheon, giving short and evasive answers to the questions that popped cut of her pretty dark head. After the meal he retired again to the library and gave the letter another dismal perusal. A look of grim intentness crept into his gaunt, leathery face as his mind caught eagerly at a few words in the opening sentence. Here was a crumb of comfort, at least. Nine other wealthy men were in the same predicament as Mr.' Craig himself. Nine others were brooding over similar letters from the redoubtable Grey Phantom, each of them a prey to the same doubts and misgivings as were assailing the occupant of Tuckaway Camp. There was comfort in that, even though Mr. Craig could not know who

the others were. It gave h ! m a bracing sense of companionship in peril, a feeling that they were ten against one. Though they could not join forces, it was a soothing-thought that courage, kindling a belligerent spark in his inflamed eyes. Already he felt a spirit of fraternity toward the other nine, and in turn he derived from them a sense of moral support. In an altered frame of mind he conned the paragraphs of the letter, and his lips twisted derisively. The colossal impudence of the fellow How preposterous of him to suppose that ten solid, respectable citizens could be bullied into compliance with his absurd demand.

He checked his hand in the act ofreaching for the telephone. A sentence from The Grey Phantom's letter recurred to his mind with disarming force. “Frey—Ninety-eight!” That was the password with which the messenger was to identify himself and establish his right to receive the money on The Grey Phantom’s behalf. It was decidedly awkward for Mr. Craig that The Phantom should have hit upon that particular countersign. If he placed the matter in the hands of the police, it would be necessary to show them the letter, and they would naturally inquire as to the meaning of those words. Mr. Craig was acutely sensitive in regard to anything that pertained to Jack Frey and the year 189 S. Perhaps that was what the diabolically ingenious Grey Phantom had counted on. His courage collapsed like a punctured balloon. Clearly he was in no position to confide in file authorities. Even if he refrained from showing them the letter, some of the details of the Jack Frey episode might leak out. Mr. Craig felt he could not afford to take chances. He might consult a private detective, but even private detectives were inclined to ask embarrassing questions and stir up matters that had only a remote bearing on the case. It seemed The Phantom had tied his hands at. the very start. The thoughts infuriated him. He, J. Pendleton Craig, victor in a score of sensational Wall Street battles, was being hamstrung by a bully. The realisation rankled, and he spent the remainder of the afternoon in a mood alternating between helpless rage and a humiliating sense of bafflement

Usually he took a long walk along the shore toward evening, but he had suddenly lost all relish for 3iich re creation, and instead he remained in his library until dark. Dinner was a dreary affair, and even Julia’s volatile spirits seented unable to shake off the depression that had fallen over Tuckaway Camp. Just before his bedtime, Mr. Craig reached a decision. It was not a satisfactory one, but under the circumstances he could think of none better. The Phantom's messenger would probably arrive during the night or some : time the following day, since the leti ter had stated he would call within ‘ forty-eight hours. Well, Mr. Craig would simply refuse to see him. It was the only sensible thing to do. Though it evaded the issue, it was yet an answer of a sort to The Phantom’s demand, and the latter could construe it any way he liked. On the whole, Mr. I Craig was rather pleased with his choice as he entered his bedroom about 10 o’clock. He felt a. trifle shivery as he turned on the light and drew down -the shades. Sleet was swishing against ’ the windows and a fitful wind shook the house on its foundations. His bed. with a corner of the coverlet turned back, had a cold, uninviting look. He started reluctantly to pull off his coat, but a glint of white on the dressing cabinet arrested his eye. Filled with an unreasoning dread, he moved forward, stared down at a white envelope with a typewritten address, ; opened it hastily, and took in the i brief contents at a shuddering glance: (To be Continued Tomorrow.)