Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1926-09-19


| nance map. This is our long bar
row. Mr.. Larkin and Miss Woodall-
who live In that house-want to dig it
up. And funny things have been hap
| pening. You're going to find a room
| in pub somewhere near, but not too
near, and watch the barrow and
watch them and watch everybody
while catching butterflies
In Southampton he bought Sergt.
| Underwood the complete equipment
of butterfly hunter and put him on
the train to find his own way to
Stoke Abbas. The car bore Mr.. For
| tune to the bare heath country.
There was no sign Of life but the
hum of bees and the chirp of grass
hoppers and the flies and butterflies
in the heavy air.
Empty. isn't it, SAM" said Mr.
Fortune. and got out of the car.
Brighter London said Sam the
chauffeur.
Mr.. Fortune took track across the
heather. 1t was heavy going. rather
like ditch than a path-an old track
long disused and overgrown, but its
depth showed that many feet must
have passed that way once. 1t passed
by gray hovel lurking in a dip of
the moor, where a shaggy donkey was
tethered and some fowl of the old
gamecock breed scratched in the sand
The thatch of heather was ragged,
the mud walls crumbling here and
there showed the waffle framework
the little windows were uncurtained.
The track led on to bluff hill. Mr..
Fortune set himself to climb. The
hillside was scared by a long scar.
double ditch and bank of an old fort.
He scrambled in and out and reached
the fiat hilltop. There rose the mound
of the long barrow of Stoke Abbas.
Mr.. Joseph Larkin had done no
| digging yet, nor any one else.
A man was squatting in the heather
binding punches of it into little
brOoms.
"Oh, good-day," said Mr.. Fortune
What's the name Of that thing up
there?'
The man lifted his bent shoulders
| and showed a dark, beardless face.
wide across the cheekbones: a big head
for his small size. He stared like a
startled animal.
do you know the name of that
thing up there?" Reggie said again.
Dragon Hill: it's Dragon HILL" the
man cried, gathered up his broons,
and slid away through the heather.
His legs were short. his speed was
surprising.
Mr.. Fortune trudged back to his car
and was driven to the house of Mr.
Joseph Larkin. 1t stood beyond the
village in shrubbery of rhododen-
drons, a plain redbrick box. Mr..
Larkin was out Miss Woodall was
out. too.
The conventional furniture of the
drawing room was dismal. Mr.. For
tune wandered drearily to and fro till
he found on the writing table the
catalogue of secondhand bookseller.
Mr.. Larkin seemed to have an odd
taste in books. Those which he had
chosen to mark were a mixed lot
somebody's sermons, a child's picture
book, Mr.. Smiles on Thrift" a his.
tory of aviation, 'IZaak Walton" He
remarked them in a queer way. A
line was drawn under one letter.
Reggie Fortune pondered. The let
tiers underlined were S X u T II A l.
proba bly, more farther on in the cata-
logue. But some one was talking out
side. Reggie put the catalogue back.
A chubby old fellow came in smiling
MIR. Reginald Fortune? Il don't
think l have the pleasure
You called on Scotland Yard, Mr.
Larkin."
"Oh, you've come from Mr.. Lomas"'
He smiled all over his rosy face.
Now, let's just go into the study,
and I'll tell you all about it,
He did. In the midst Of it Miss
Woodall arrived.
Mr.. Fortune. You've come down
yourself! But how very kind
While she took Reggie's hand she
smiled on Joseph Larkin.
"Oh, do you know Mr.. Fortune, my
dear?" he said, frowning.
In 1,f he iS
pert, you know. l went to him to
ask his advice about this horrible
business"
But. my dear child, you didn't
tell me-"
Il couldn't bear you to be so wor-
ried, Mr.. Larkin, she laid her hand
on his arm.
why are you specially keen on
this long barrow, Mr.. Larkin?"
Reggie murmured.
Mr.. Larkin began to explain. 1t
was something about Phoenicians.
The Phoenicians. Reggie gathered,
had been everywhere and done every
thing before the dawn of time. Mr..
, Larkin had given life to prove it.
He had found evidence in many pre-
historic remains. When he came
down to Stoke Abbas to complete his
book on The Origin of Our World"
he found this fine barrow. Miss
W oodall suggested to him that
OH, Mr.. Larkin, I'm afraid it
wasn't me- Miss Woodall smiled.
I'm not expert enough to advise"
Well. we'll, my dear, you're a very
capable assistant. We decided that
when we'd finished the book we must
eXcavate the barrow on Dragon Hill,
Mr.. Fortune
and that's how the trouble be-
gan" Reggie murmured. Yes. Any
particular reason why you came to
Stoke Abbas?"
Mr.. Larkin looked at Miss Woodall.
II really don't know. l think this
house was the most suitable of any
that you saw, my dear"
oh, much the most suitable. Mr..
Larkin must have quiet, you see, Mr..
Fortune"
And this is charmingly quiet. my
dear. They purred at each other,
and Reggie felt embarrassed. Charm.
ing-if only Mr.. Fortune can stop
this annoyance. l hope you'll stay
with us, Mr.. Fortune"
THEY went early to bed at
l. Restharrow. About midnight Mr..
Fortune was reused by whistling
roaring noise, such a noise as a gale
might make. But there was no gale.
There was tap at the door and Mr.,
Larkin came in. That's the noise.
Mr.. Fortune" he said What is it,"
Il wonder. Miss Woodall sleeps on
the other side of the house,"
Yes. don't think she has ever
heard it. 1t only comes and goes.
YOU know. There. It's stopped. It'll
come again. Off and on for half an
hour or so. Most distressing. What
can it be, Mr.. Fortune"
II should rather like to know
Reggie murmured. When all was
quiet at last he got Mr.. Larkin to
bed.
Reggie rose early. He saw the post