THE GREEN SHADOW

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 943, 9 April 1930, Page 5

THE GREEN SHADOW

By

HERMAN LANDON

Copyright by Public Ledger

CHAPTER 11. (Continued). She walked in, advanced a few steps, then stopped. She heard the door close behind her with a click which signified that a bolt had slipped back into its socket. Though she knew it was not yet noon, the room was in total darkness. The Avindows, if there were any, must be heavily shaded so as not to admit the faintest ray of light. She braced herself against the gloom that pervaded the curious and depressing stillness. She felt quite alone, and she wondered Avhat had become of Miss Conway. She waited tremulously. The stillness and the darkness grew oppressive. Merely to verify a supicion, she went back a few steps and tried the doorknob. As she had expected, the door was locked. She shook oil the vague dread Avhich the discovery aroused within her. She mustn’t be a fool, she told herself. She had walked into this with her eyes wide open, and now EMERALD LIGHT The thread of her thoughts, snapped. A little click had sounded ( somewhere. The most curious light she had ever seen flooded the room 1 —a green light so soft and rich it made her think of velvet. And not only that, but it was evenly distributed over the room, forming no shadows in the corners. She gazed about her in amazement. The room was furnished in the fashion ■ of a library, with long and well-filled . bookcases at three walls, a huge rose-; wood table in the centre, easy chairs ; with leather-covered upholstery* a

few rugs of soft Oriental hues, several pictures and pieces of statuary, the whole immersed in a steady flood of emerald light. What a curious light it was, so smooth and e\'en, so soothing to the eyes! It was soothing to her nerves as well. She thought, after she had recoA'ered from her amazement, that the room had a pleasant, friendly, welcoming aspect. “How do you do, Miss Castle?” She swung round and stared. And ’then she swung round and stared in the opposite direction. Her startled eyes swept the green spaces. She must have been mistaken. She thought some one had spoken, but her overwrought ner\'es and excited imagination must haA'e deceived her, for there was no one in sight. “I am Doctor Moffett. I am very pleased to see you.” With a dull, quavering cry she stared about her again. This time she knew there had been no mistake. Out of the soft green colour tones that filled the room a voice had spoken. It was a deep, strong, rather pleasant voice, yet she was dimly aware of an unreal quality in it, as if the speaker wished to disguise his natural manner of speech. “Won’t you be seated?”

Mechanically she slipped into the seat beside her. The continued assaults on her nerves were becoming unbearable. But now, out of the velvety green light, a figure emerged. It was a shadowy figure that seemed to blend into the verdant illumination on all sides. She could scarcely distinguish the outlines, and the face she could not see at all. It seemed to be screened behind a soft emerald mist. Vet 'even this dim and fragmentary sight steadied her nerves. It was less weird by far than to hear a voice and be able to see no one. About half a dozen paces from where she sat the blurred figure stopped and dropped into a chair. “Mind if I smoke, Miss Castle?” “Not—not in the least,” Adele stammered. It was a little uncanny to

hear herself reply to a question spoken by a man whose face she could not see. She strained her eyes in the direction where he sat. The outlines of his figure were a trifie clearer now, but the face was still shrouded in what looked like a green fog. A match scratched. A small yellow flame appeared at the end of a match, but. the hand that held it was only a blur. The flame wriggled, expanded, burned clearly against the green background, then dwindled in size and brightness. Small puffs of grey smoke issued forth, forming wisp-like wreaths in the space where the face should have been. Adele pinched herself to make sure she was not In a hypnotic trance. Her flesh responded with a, stinging sensation. It was all real then. And already her nerves were growing calmer. She had reached the point of saturation where her brain could register no further surprises. DR. MOFFETT “As I told you,” came from the chair beyond the rosewood table. “I am Doctor Moffett. I suppose my name is unfamiliar to you?” Adele nodded. “Then,” said Dr. Moffett, “in order that we may become better acquainted let me tell you a little something about myself. The title that precedes

my name is not rightful property. I was once a practising physician specialising in diseases of the eye. The name itself doesn’t matter so much. Names mean so little these days. “Years ago I dropped the practice of medicine to devote myself to pleasanter and more profitable pursuits. I suppose you are wondering about this green light and why you can’t see much of me, especially of my face. Well, there are reasons. There is nothing very mysterious about this light. You have seen the same thing occasionally in the theatres. As for my reason for sitting here in semi-obscurity ” He laughed, a deep, whimsical laugh. “I am telling you this so that you will feel more at ease in my presence. We can’t have a satisfac tory discussion unless you feel wholly comfortable. You are more comfortable already, aren’t you?” “Yes, Dr. Moffett,” said Adele in a voice that still sounded a little uncertain. “That’s splendid. Just a few more words about myself. I am probably the ugliest man in creation. Also, 1 am very sensitive about my unfor-

tunate looks. That’s one reason why I don’t wish you to see my face, and that one alone would be sufficient. There’s another, however. You might recognise me if you should ever see me, and that would be very unfortunate for both of us.” He laughed again, and this time the laugh sounded less pleasant than on the former occasion. "Yes, it would be very unfortunate for both of us,” he repeated, as if he wished to stress the point. “But we needn’t worry about that. I am verycareful not to show my face indiscriminately. Y’ou are not nervous now?” “Not in the least,” Adele assured him, straining the truth. “Fine! We are going to have a practical talk, you and I, and that will require mental poise. Do y-ou know, I never feel quite at ease except in a green light like this. It is the only kind of light that rests my nerves. Green soothes them, while most other colours irritate them. “Did you happen to know that there is a separate nerve for each primary colour? Well, there is. Green, for instance, has its own nerve, and so have blue and red. These nerves act as messengers, each carrying its own colour sensation to the brain. Now, I am afflicted with a nervous ailment that has affected the nerves

for blue and red so that these colours irritate me. With green it is different, and that’s one reason why I am interviewing y-ou in this sort of illumination.” Adele was growing a trifle impatient. It seemed a very long introduction. Again she strained her ey-es in the speaker’s direction, but the ugly face to which he had alluded was still masked in a green shroud. “Just another preliminary word,” Dr. Moffett murmured. “I have suffered a great deal in my life, what with my unsightly face, and my nervous ailment. Perhaps the experience has hardened me. At any rate, I have no patience with idealists and visionaries. “I am what you would call a man of hard practical sense. All my actions are calculated to serve my own selfish interests. My desires are the only law I recognise and obey. I always attain my objectives. If anything stands in my way, I sweep it aside. Do you understand me better now?” She smiled mirthlessly. As if one could understand a man whose face was not visible to the eyes! Yet an impression of a sort, had been sketched on her brain. She wondered whether Dr. Moffett would sweep aside a human obstacle as rutlilessly as, according to his own words, he swept aside inanimate ones. “Yes, I think I do,” she murmured in response, watching the ghostly puffs of grey smoke that drifted in front of the invisible face. Since she could not see the face, she fell to studying the voice more closely. Despite the deep and pleasant timbre of it, her impression that it was not Dr. Moffett’s natural voice grew stronger. “Good, Miss Castle. You must be weary of hearing me talk about myself. I have spoken this way only in order that we may understand each other better. Now we shall talk about something else. Y’ou have probably heard of Daniel Forrester?” “I —I think so,” Adele stammered. The newspaper headlines she had seen at breakfast that morning flashed back into her mind with sharp vividness. FORRESTER’S PARTNER “We can dispose of Forrester in a few words. He was a man somewhat like myself—ambitious, hard, aggressive and ruthless where his own interests were concerned —a man who scoffed at laws and conventions. To realise that ambition he organised one of the greatest and most ingenious swindling schemes the human brain has ever conceived. “In a little while —less than a year —he massed together ten millions. He would have piled up a hnudred millions if he had lived and could have avoided complications with the law. While he lived he was lucky. The . authorities didn’t become cognisant of the illicit nature of his operations until three weeks after his death.” A new dread took hold of Adele, suc- ! ceeding the sense of weirdness she had experienced. She thought she could foresee the trend of Dr. Moffett’s J remarks.

“You see, Miss Castle, Forrester was shrewd and subtle enough to make a crooked game appear straight. And so he continued his operations unhampered until he died. Then a storm broke. Hundreds of victims began to squeal and whine. An examination of Forrester’s duplicate books told the story. “But it was too late to punish Forrester. A dead man can’t be brought before a jury. Yet somebody had to be punished. The whiners had to be pacified—a pack of greedy, yellowlivered fools who howled for vengeance when they discovered they had bit into a gold brick. A scapegoat had to be found.” Dr. Moffett laughed sardonically. "The authorities are still looking for the scapegoat. Maybe they will find him, but I rather think they will fail, unless I should tell them where to look. They are on his trail now, but it is a badly twisted trail. Y'ou see, •the investigation showed that Forrester had a partner in his swindling operations, one who worked with him

and shared in his illegitimate gains. The authorities found various traces of this partner scattered here and there, but so far they have been unable to learn who he Is, although he has been mentioned in the newspapers as ‘the mysterious Mr. Graves.’ ” Adele started sharply, though she had been in a measure prepared. She had an uncomfortable sensation that a pair of keen eyes was looking straight at her out of the velvety green mist that covered the speaker’s face. “I see the name is familiar to you," Doctor Moffett remarked. “The authorities are now searching for this mysterious Mr. Graves. They are going over Forrester’s papers again, hoping to find some clue to his identity and whereabouts. If they ever find I him, it is almost certain he will be convicted. Public sentiment is strongly against him, and a conviction of that sort would be a feather in the prosecutor’s cap. In all probability the mysj terious Mr. Graves would be sent up ! for ten years—perhaps 15.”

Though she tried to hold it back, a taint moan o£ dread broke from Adele’s lips. “Did you say something, Miss Castle? No? Well, it is my opinion that the search will be fruitless. You see, some of Forrester’s papers—the very ones that would reveal his identity and tighten the case against him—are i missing.” "Missing?” Adele echoed in a hollow voice. “You mean—” “Yes, I mean that through a fortunate occurrence those papers fell into my hands. They are now in my pos-

session, safely hidden where no one ; is likely to find them. The mysterious j Mr. Graves is really no mystery to me.” Adele felt a choking tightness at the throat. “Who—who is he?” The reply came after a pause which j Doctor Moffett remarked. “The au- i thorities are now searching." Wisps > of cigar smoke whirled lazily in the j air. “Virgil Elsworth Castle, your j father.” * * * THE MYSTERIOUS MR. GRAVES , The semi-annual meeting of the ; Board of Directors of the Knickerbocker Finance Corporation had been a stormy one. Several members had mutinied against the lately adopted policies of the chairman, Virgil Ellsworth Castle. Heated invective and | sharp retorts had passed along the maj hogany table, disturbing the decorum of a severely plain room bordered of sound-proof walls and sanctified the

weighty deliberations. Otherwise dignified gentlemen in frock coats had forgotten they were gentlemen. Faces : had flushed and voices had risen above the limits of good behaviour. It had been the most turbulent meeting in | the history of the corporation. It was over now. Mr. Castle had returned to his private office, furnished | in the manner of classical dignity that became his position. He adjusted the flower in his buttonhole and mopped , his face. A smile played about his 1 lips as he stood at a window looking I out over the harbour with its argoj sies from many lands. It had been a good fight. lie had ! thrown all his strength and the full . force of his personality into it. His I voice had alternately cooed and thun- ! dered. He had cajoled and bluffed; ■ his tongue had flattered and lashed, as the occasion required. He had ' leaped from playful satire to vitriolic ! | denunciation. And in the end he had : I won. I (To be Continued Tomorrow.)