Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1907-05-18

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everything she had, and finally sold
the precious relic to Mrs. Meiswinkle
of Tuckahoe. From that day misfor-
tune following misfortune fell upon
! the family. In the end Mrs. Meiswin-
kle made a present of it to the city
of New York
Noble woman!" cried the painter.
THAT simple act of patriotism may
account for much!"
Frank" said Dunbarton, has this
story of yours anything to do with
your kodak flm?"
Eyes, everything. Listen. To-day l
struggled n:H camera into the museum
and stood before the mummy case I'M
detected. But scarcely had l pressed
the button when | was arrested by an
official, who confiscated the machine
and took it to the parcel room. | lost
no time in finding the director, gave
my name and yours for surety for my
responsibility, and, after some delay
and red tape, got back my property"
You were lucky the other com
mented, coolly. We'll? Is that the
end?"
mol" exclaimed MorewOod. while
the casket was still in the possession
of Mrs. Meiswinkle she had a photo
graph taken of the lid, with every pos
sible safeguard against deception or
mistake. When the plate was devel-
oped it was not the painted features
of the mummy case that looked from
the negative, but-the face of living
woman! The face of the pmestess of
Amen Ra, unchanged through 5000
years, and alive!"
THAT must have Jared them!" Dun
barton commented irreverently.
''And mark me, George" Morewood
said, very gravely, ''it was the same
that / hold now in my hand. l tell
you, man, that woman is alive to-day.
Don't ask me to explain the unex-
plainable. ! simply know that she
lives"
"Old chap" Dunbarton pronounced
with conviction, what you need is a
good nights rest"
But Morewood did not reply to
this, for the gentle swaying of an East
ern curtain just then caught his eye.
Immediately it occurred again, and
this time accompanied by the vision
of human hand, clearly in search Of
something on which to rap.
There's someone there" said the
painter Come in; please come in
Il think the curtain must be
voice without Dunbarton seized the
drapery and, with a single movement
of his arm swept it aside.
"Ohl" he cried, starting back,
while Norwood clutched the table
for support.
Against the background Of green
velvet curtain with its embroidery of
dull gold, there stood lady all in
poppy red, crowned with headdress
seemingly of the flowers themselves.
Were they not bowling before the
peerless priestess of the rites of Amen
Ra? 1t was she and none other-the
mistress of the mummy case, the mys-
terry of the kodak film; the lady of
Thebes 5000 years ago.
Dunbarton was the fiji st to recover
power of speech.
Madam" he said. What is your
will? You have but to command me-"
Il am looking for Mr.. Dunbarton,
she explained.
II have the good fortune to bear
that name" he said.
"Oh, am so glad!" cried the lady.
"Then perhaps you can tell me where
to find Mr.. Morewood?'
Your humble and devoted serv-
ant" the other man pronounced him
self.
Really" asked the lady, her face
radiant with pleasure. How very for
tunste! Do you know, Mr.. Norwood
| that you have something of mine and
l have something of yours? 1t was the
| stupid person in the parcel room of
| the museum. Of course two kodaks
are exactly alike, if one of them hasn't
name scratched on the bottom with
pin; so he gave you mine and me
| yours, and l should never have found
out who you were if you hadn't been
arrested. Of course it wouldn't have
made very much difference, after all,
| if my cousin Jack hadn't snapped me
in a most ridiculous Egyptian fancy
dress
"Oh!" moaned the painter, eff 1
could only how'll"
Don't mind him, pleased" the other
man pleaded. You see, /, too, had
used a film, and we were rather inter
| ested in seeing how it came out.
ooh, but yours came out beautiful
! ly!" she treasured him. my Cousin
Jack developed it after lunch. That's
the way we discovered our mistake,
and here it is. We made up cur minds
that you must be at least rs years old
to want to photograph hideous
mummy case"
1t was then that Dunbarton mas
tered himself. There was an instant's
hesitation, then: my friend, Mr..
Morewood," remarked the painter,
'has inst been telling me the StrangeSt