CLEOPATRA'S PEARL

Wairarapa Times-Age, 14 April 1938, Page 10

CLEOPATRA'S PEARL

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

COPYRIGHT.

BY

STUART MARTIN.

Author of “Seven Men’s Sins,” “The Green Ghost,’ etc.

SYNOPSIS On a holiday cruise from England, MURIEL STACEY, daughter of a dealer in gems, is bound for Egypt. Accompanying her is JOHN ROBSON, her father’s most trusted assistant, who keeps Muriel such close company that ship’s gossip says he is very much in love with her. Also in the ship is FRED BURTON, son of a shipowner, learning his trade in the Purser’s department. Much attracted by Muriel, his curiosity is aroused by the fact that she and Robson ar constantly studying old Egyptian books. Burton also notices two rather queer passengers, MASON and FARVERY, who seem to be keeping an eye on Muriel and Robson. When Cairo is reached, Burton goes ashore in mufti to an hotel, into which, later, come Mason and Farvery. From their conversation Burton gathers that they are planning to “get” Robson and Cleopatra’s pearl. A place on the road to the Pyramids is mentioned. Knowing that Muriel and Robson intended to visit the Pyramids, Burton goes along the road, following Mason and Farvery. In a house he discovers Robson seriously wounded. He learns that Muriel has been taken off by two men in a car. While he is in the house tending Robson and an Egyptian gem dealer, Burton’s taxi driver is trussed up and the taxi disabled. With difficulty, Burton is able to telephone the police and to find, in a neighbouring house, an Egyptian with a horse and buggy who will drive him. It transpires, however, that Burton has walked into a trap. It was anticipated that he would hire the buggy and the driver has been bribed. The result is that he finds himself trussed in an old tomb, listening to the taunts of Mason and Farvery. From an inner chamber they produce another prisoner—Muriel Stacey.

On learning that Burton had sent word to the police, Mason and Farvery decide that they must move. The whole party, with Muriel strapped on a camel sets out for the desert. After marching throughout the night Mason halts the caravan and declares excitedly that he has just seen Burton cast the pearl among the feet of the camels. Frantically he orders a search of the sandy soil.

(Now Read On.) CHAPTER IV—Continued. There were four of these newcomers, who now were within a short distance of the camp; and Muriel, with her eye glued to the tiny hole, had a good view of them. They were all tall, bearded, dirty, with faces the colour of dark tanned leather and as hard. They had several spare camels strung out in their wake and they were welcomed with shouting and clapping of hands by the Bedouin seated on the ground. The Tauregs dismounted and approached the camp in solemn dignity, raising their hands to their foreheads. They did not approach Mason and Farvery, but seated themselves without a word and began to smoke long, black cigarettes.

It was a queer scene on which Muriel looked. Not a sound came from the group of desert-dwellers as they sat in a wide circle. They seemed to have forgotten Mason and Farvery, who still foraged diligently with their pieces of wood. The silence lasted until the cigarettes were consumed.

One of the Tauregs then began a long speech, to which the Bedouin listened attentively. When it was finished they all began to talk at once. Whether they were arguing Muriel could not understand, but she saw two Arabs leave the circle and approach Mason. Evidently they were interpreting what the Tauregs had said. But the words did not please Mason, who dismissed them angrily and continued his labours. The Arabs returned and sat down. Peace fell on the camp. Muriel withdrew her gaze from the scene and lay down on a rug that was stretched on the sand inside the tent. Whatever happened, she must sleep, and sleep she did, with the woman sitting closs-legged like a stone figure, her eyes also closed.

It was late in the afternoon when she woke. The flap of the tent was open and the woman was preparing another meal outside the door. Muriel had her own ideas on how to cook and serve canned provisions and when she saw a few tins beside the few pots, and the small petrol stove roaring, she determined to have something civilised to taste.

“Can I help?” she asked. It was the first time she had. spoken directly to the woman. To her surprise the answer was encouraging. “If you like. After I make coffee.”

Muriel crawled out of the tent and looked around. The Tauregs were no longer in the camp, but the spare camels were there with saddle mats strapped on. She looked over to where she had left Burton. He was awake and waved his hand to her. An Arab was seated beside him. “I can’t come over,” he called. “Orders are that I stick here with this chap as guard.” “Then I’m coming to you.”

She crossed the intervening space, picking her way among the animals and Arabs, who made way for her. “Are you feeling better?” she asked. “I’m fine. That sleep was all I wanted. Will you do something for me?” “Whatever I can.” “Make some decent grub and I’ll bless you. Dates are apt to be stale; besides Mason has given permission that you cook your own food if you like. The Tauregs have gone.” “I’ll make the food all right. That woman can speak after all. I thought she was a mute.”

“They can all speak if they want to. Even my guard is a decent chap when he likes.” The guard grinned under his shaded head covering, and eased the rifle that lay across his knees. “I saw the Tauregs go, Muriel —you don’t mind me assuming friendship—” “You’re the only friend I have here. We’ve got to be friends. We settled that during the night, didn’t we? What did the Tauregs come for?” “They are the guides of the party into the desert. They have jfone a-

head.” “Where are Mason and Farvery?” “In a tent sleeping. They stopped looking for —you know.” “I don’t understand what they were looking for.” She glanced at the seated Arab and saw his eyes glint in her direction. He was apparently listening to every word. She turned on her heel.

“I’ll bring over something worth eating if there is anything in that canned stuff. Are you hungry?” “Am I hungry?”

She went back to the woman and set to work, while Burton watched her. She had shown much more pluck than he had anticipated, and her beauty had not faded under the strain. Her soft Panama hat was poised on her dark hair at the same angle as she had worn it on board ship. What glorious hair she had! He watched her kneeling at the stove, emptying the contents of tins into a pot. She might have been at a picnic. That was a girl to be in love with; and he was in love all right.

She brought him food in a tin basin. Soup! And after that rolls split up with a fat sausage between the red pepper. And fruit. She had raided more than one case to find these. She sat beside him and joined in the meal and the Arab guard was coaxed to share the fruit, which he did readily enough, winking and grinning to his friends the while.

They were finishing the meal when Mason and Farvery appeared from their tent. Something in Farvery’s manner sent a wave of anxiety through Burton as they came forward. Mason’s right hand was clenched, his usual jocularity absent. “What was the idea of throwing Cleopatra’s ear-ring among the camel’s feet?” he demanded surily. “To make you look for it,” replied Burton easily. “To make me look for it,, hey? Supposing I was to tell you that you’re too damn smart to be alive?” “I wouldn’t believe you, Mr Mason.” “All right, Mr Smart Assistant Purser Burton, I’ve got you about taped. And you too, Miss Muriel Stacey, and your damn tricks. Suppose I was to tell you both that you’ve about cooked your goose, and your number’s up, unless you come through with that damn ear-ring which you didn’t throw away after all?” Neither of them answered, but Muriel’s glance flew from Mason’s face to Burton and back again. “Give her another chance,” murmured Farvery. “Another chance, after they’s made us waste a day? Think I don’t see what he was after? He wanted to delay us on the march. He delays no more. Nor her either. Are you going to hand over that pearl?” The last sentence was addressed to the girl.

“Find it!” she flashed back at him. “We’ll find it. You’ve got it hidden somewhere, and I’ll have you stripped to the skin for it as soon as we get you—where we’re going. It’s a Taureg’s harem for you, but after we’ve got the ear-ring, sweetie. We’re not selling you with that pearl about you.” He lost control of his temper at their opposition.

“I’ll tell you something. There's a cable gone to England to your father telling him that he can have you for a ransom. That’s how matters stand. The Tauregs have fixed their price, or I’ve fixed it for them. And you, Burton, you're in the same boat. That’s why you've got a guard over you, and you two are separating from now on.” He fumed and bit at his knuckles in impotent rage. Farvery’s little eyes were moving from the girl to Burton restlessly.

“You brought this on yourselves,” he said smoothly. “You brought it on yourselves. I warned you, Burton.”

“All right, I near both of you,” replied Burton swiftly, rising to his feet, “and let me say something. I never had the ear-ring. I threw something

"We know that!” interrupted Mason furiously, thrusting out his right hand, which was closed over something.

“We know that. I came over to look at your shirt cuff. I’ve got you taped. That’s what you threw away, trying to keep up poking in the sand until somebody arrived to help you!” His fingers opened with a jerk. There, lying in the palm of his hand, was a single cuff-link, two tiny ovals of pearl set in gold and connected by an inch of gold chain. “Quite correct,” said Burton. “Would you like its mate?” ‘l’ll mate you! I’ll quite correct you! Young pup! Trying some funny business on me! I’ll have you flayed for this.” “Begin your flaying when you like, Mason. You’re only a cheap little crook, anyway. Wait till the police get you and your pal and you'll squirm. They’ll get you, mintl that.”

Mason’s face was purple in his fury. He worried at his knuckles, in the manner of a dog gnawing at a bone, and he almost danced as the words stung him to the quick. “For two pins, I’d bash you face in!” he yelled. “For two pins, I’d bash —” “Wait a minute,” interrupted Burton. He fumbled at his jacket lapel, and held out two pins. “There was going to be some bashing,” he said simply.

With a shout Mason dived his hand into his pocket and brought out a gun. But the Arab guard stopped between, his rifle in both hands. His voice raised a cry, high and piercing, like a seagull’s. Other Arabs came running. “There you go again, Mason,” said Farvery bitterly. “You’ll have the Arabs angry. Put that gun away. They don’t want a dead man, worth nothing for ransom.”

3 Mason put his gun away, for the Arabs were crowding round, jabbering 3 and shouting. He dared not break his promise to them or they would have 1 had their revenge on him. They were • on their own. ground now, not on ' white men’s ground. Burton saw his position and realised ■ that he had a certain amount of rope on which to play Mason and Farvery. “Even if I did trick you with a cufflink,” he said coolly, “that’s not to say I haven’t got the earring hidden where you’ll never find it. You can save your time searching Miss Stacey.” “Is that so?” sneered Mason. “All right. If you don’t tell, she will, and if she won’t tell, you will. We’ve only started this racket. But you won’t see what’s being done to her after this; and she won’t see what’s being done to you. Come on, let’s get started and make up for lost time.” (To be continued.)