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W. N. U.. ATLANTA, NO. 46-1929.
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What the
t Gray House :
Hid XX1U J
► - :
► «
‘The Mystery of a *
►
► i Haunted Mansion < l
► & & +
► ^
by Wyndham ◄
Martyn
fcAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA,
TV. N. TJ. Service
Copyright by Wyndham Martyn
THE STORY
Hilton Hanby, prosperous New
York merchant, has purchased a
country place—the Gray house,
near Pine Plains. Miss Selenos,
a former tenant of the Gra.v
house, calls at his office and
warns him that the house Is un¬
der a curse. Further alarming
details are Impressed upon Adol:
Smucker, Hanby’s secretary, by n
man who claims to have been
chauffeur for Sir Stanford Sey¬
mour, former occupant of the
place.
CHAPTER 1—Continued
—2—
“Julius Caesar was a small man.”
he said suddenly, much to his host’s
amazement. “So was Napoleon. So Is
Lloyd George.” He bent over the
table, as if imparting u profound se¬
cret. “So was the master of them
all—ray idol, Lenin.” Mr. Smucker
touched his receding forehead with a
dramatic gesture. “Don’t think, be¬
cause you are twice as Dig, that you
can outmatch me here!”
Again he smote Ills brow.
“That’s all right,” said the other
pacifically. “Benny Leonard ain’t a
big man, and 1 guess lie’s pretty
good. So was the baby that steered
Black Sand and won one thousand
iron men for daddy. You wouldn't be
where you are today if you hadn’t
got the gray matter. Say, do you be¬
lieve in haunted houses?”
“1 don’t believe in haunted houses,”
Smucker asserted, “nor in the im¬
mortality of tiie soul. I’m away be¬
yond that religious bunk!”
“1 didn’t believe in haunted houses
when 1 Urst went up there with Mr.
Seymour. 1 was like you—conceited
—bone-headed. 1 tbought I knew it all
and then some.” The stranger had a
cold and compelling eye. He looked
at Mr. Smucker in a way that dis¬
pelled many of the secretary’s the¬
ories. He leaned over the table. ‘‘It’s
fine and dandy to hold them beliefs
when you ain’t been put to the test I”
“I don’t get you,” said Mr. Smuck¬
er Irritably.
“You will,” said the ottier simply
“I used to he chauffeur for Mr. Sey¬
mour up at the Gray house. His two
kids died up there. There’s a curse
on that place. Tiie man that had it
before lost his wife. Nothing the
matter with her until she went up to
Dutchess county. Bo, there’s some¬
thing in the lake there that calls peo¬
ple to it. The man who had it after
Seymour and me was warned. Sey¬
mour said he went there on his own
responsibility. I’ll say Seymour was
square about warning him. Well, sir.
that man was found drowned in that
d—d lake. Tiie doctors couldn't find
a thing the matter, except lie was
drowned. It’s a had place to live in.
I know I 1 was there for two years ”
The stranger’s voice sank to a whis¬
per.
‘You feel like people are watching
you ail the time,” he went on. “When
you wake up, you think there’s peo¬
ple at the foot of your bed, and when
you switch on the light it seems tike
you catch them going away out of the
tail of your eye. The help won’t stay
there. They knowl Mr. Seymour—
he’s a lord or something now
brought out an old cook from Eng¬
land. She went bughouse from what
she saw.”
“Do you expect me to believe that?”
Smucker said.
“No,” said the other. “You ain’t
got the education to understand. Mr
Hanby may. All I ask you to do. if
you want to keep your Job, is to try
and prevent him from taking his fam¬
ily up there to live.”
Smucker bitterly resented the
strictures on his education. He
thought of many cutting things to
say, but words did not come easily.
His brain seethed with brilliant still¬
born speeches. After a time he gath¬
ered bis wits together.
“It amounts to this,” he said. “You
want me to warn Hanby before it’s
too late.”
“1 don't give a d—n whether you do
or not,” returned the stranger. “I've
got it off my conscience. If yon want
them to go to their death, it’s up to
you. Any mar taking his family there
Is killing ’em, just as much as if he
fed 'em strychnine in their soup. What
do 1 get for this? Not a d—n thing!
I’m out a dinner.
“That,” said Smucker quickly, “is
your own financial liability.”
•‘I’m no piker,” said the other.
“Hey, Pat, bring a couple of them
cigars that Morgan smokes, and some
black coffee. My friend here has an
important date.”
CHAPTER II
At nine o’clock Mr. Smucker stood
outside the Gothic entrance of the
CLEVELAND COURIER:
building where Hilton Hanby main¬
tained a duplex apartment Mr.
Smucker was in an unusual frame of
mind. Whereas his viewpoint wa9
often confused, and his rebellion a
silent one, he now saw things with
a dreadful clarity. He was vocal.
He told the subway guard that ere
long those who cheerfully wore the
livery of oppressing capitalists would
be offered the opportunity to revolt.
If they refused, they would toil in
deep mines, abject serfs of an
emancipated proletariat.
When the liveried elevator starter
at the Hanby apartment house in¬
tercepted Mr. Smucker and desired
to know his business, the Weehawken
philosopher saw in this precaution
only another instance of the tyranny
of the rich; and when, after some
delay, he was shown into his em¬
ployer’s rooms, he was overripe for
speech. The girl who opened the
door looked at him coldly as she de¬
manded his name.
“Tell Hanby, Smucker is here I” he
said loudly. “A. Smucker!”
“I asked your name, not what yon
were.” she retorted.
“My name is Smacker—Adolf
Smucker—and Hanby has to see me
at once!”
He was shown into a small room,
which led, as Investigation proved, to
a gallery running along one side of
the apartment. Below him was a
“What Do I Get for This? Not a
D—d Thing! I’m Out a Dinner."
spacious drnwing-rootn. Through an
arched opening Smucker could see a
party of diners. Dining, and it was
past nine o’clock!
This, then, was what a duplex
apartment meant. Tiie Smackers had
never been quite sure. They were
certain only that it was a symptom of
the criminal extravagance of the un
taxed rich, won at the cost of the
workers.
“Old Smucker here?” Hanby ex¬
claimed. “Are you sure?” He turned
to his wife. “Dina, do you hear that?
Smucker from tiie office Is here.”
‘‘That odious tittle man I Well, he
won’t mind waiting until we have
finished. You’d better send him a
cocktail or something. You can’t
leave us, Just as you are going to
spring this great surprise.” Dina
Hanby turned to one of the servants
“Mary, ask Mr. Smucker to be kind
enough to wait, and ask if he’d like
a cocktail. See if he will leave a
message.”
Mr. Smucker looked at the cocktail
greedily. Some day pretty girls like
this one in neat black and white
should bring him cocktails when he
thirsted; but they should not sneer
at him. If they sneered, they should
be Inshed.
“Mr. Hanby asks you to wait,” said
Mary Sloan, not softening the blow.
“He’s busy. They’re In the middle
of dinner.”
“At half past nine?”
“That’s what 1 said, Mr. Mucker.”
“Smucker, Smucker!”
“As he won’t be through yet awhile,
Mr. Smuckersmucker, do you want to
send a message?”
“No!” the man roared. “1 won’t!
Absolutely I will not! Tell him and
his wife I come on a matter of life
and death. Tell him to leave his
boon companions for a moment, and
he will go back to them a saddened
man I”
With tiie possible exception of
Adolph Smucker, Hanby had not an
enemy in " e world. His children
adored him, and his help remained
until removed by marriage or death.
Mary hurried back. She was inter¬
ested in the announcement her em¬
ployer was about to make. He was
Speedometer in Use Long Before “Autos”
It may surprise those complacent
people who think that everything that
counts was invented within the last
century, to hear that speedometers—
and they seem pretty modern devices
—were brought into use centuries ago.
Admittedly they did not tell, by
themselves, tiie rate at which you
were taveling, but with a eioek hung
alongside them you could make a
guess good enough for olden days,
when speed limits and police traps
were unknown.
Evelyn, in his diary, writes in 1057:
“I went to see Colonel Blount, who
showed me the application of the way
wiser to a coach, exactly measuring
the miles and showing them by an in¬
dex as we went on. It had three cir¬
cles, one pointing to tiie number of
rods, another to the miles, by 10 to
on his feet when she reached tne
dining room.
“Family and friends I” he began.
“Best of families, best of friends t
I stand before you tonight at the ripe
age of four and forty. I have not
only an announcement to make—I
have also a confession. I have con¬
cealed my name from even my wife.
You have hitherto known me as plain
Hilton Hanby.”
“Not exactly plain,” his wife
laughed. “I could never have mar¬
ried a plain man I”
“Best of wives 1” he murmured. "I
have deceived you. Almost half a
century ago my mother was drown¬
ing In one of onr picturesque rivers.
A handsome stranger sprang In and
rescued her. Later they were mar¬
ried, and her first son she called by
the name of that superb stream. My
true name Is Honsatonic Hilton Han¬
by. At school I was known as Tonic.
At college they called me Tony. When
I married 1 dropped the name be¬
cause my wife was from Cleveland,
and would not have understood. To¬
night I resume it publicly. There
are reasons. I am now lord of the
manor. I have territorial obligations.
Boys and girls, I have been a hard
worker, and I have prospered. Fif¬
teen years ago, when I was young
In the w’oolen business, I took, in
payment of a had debt, sixty acres
of land near Los Angeles.”
“And you've struck oil there?”
asked Celia, his eldest daughter.
“No—this Is a true story. 1 have
subdivided what was formerly a
rocky, goat-infested hill. It is now
Wyldwood, famous ns the queen of
hillside residential parks.”
“Dream on 1” said Junior, Hanby’s
son, who was a Vale sophomore, and
therefore given to doubting the en¬
thusiasms of his elders.
“No dream, my worthless lad, hut
a fact I 1 have the money. Half of
it l have spent this afternoon. Know,
beloved ones, that I have realized the
ambitions of a lifetime. About a
hundred miles away, near tiie peace¬
ful village of Bine Blains, Housa
tonic H. Hanby owns a lordly estate.
In this historic home, this feudal
fastness, he will dispense hospitality
of the sort his position entails. On
his private golf course'his friends
will pry gobs of turf from their beds
as they now do weekly at Wykngyl
and Garden City. On his tennis
courts, grass and concrete, his chil¬
dren will play under his able tute¬
lage, until they go In triumph to For¬
est Hills. There Sir Housatonic has
a lake, wherein bass and trout await
the anglers’ fly. There his children
will find a swimming pool—not yet
built, however—which will make the
best that Pasadena and Hollywood
have to offer look like 'frog ponds.”
“Oh, dad I” Celia cried. “Is this
real, or do we wake up now?”
In answer he passed photographs
around. The Gray house was a fact,
not a mere hope.
“Wonderful!” said Mrs. Bishop, one
of Dina’s close friends. “But the
help problem in a thirty-room house
is appalling. You won’t get any one
to stay.”
“Mary!” Hanby called out. The
girl was arranging glasses in the
anteroom. “You heard what I’ve
been saying?"
Mary flushed a little.
“I couldn’t help it, sir,” she apolo¬
gized.
“Go and ask the others If they’ll
come to the Gray house.”
“They’ll come,” said Mary eagerly.
“Ask them," Mrs. Bishop com¬
manded. “New York help simply
hates the country. We tried It out,
and we know.”
Mary came back.
“They’re crazy to go, sir.”
“I don’t know how you do It,” said
Mrs. Bishop.
“It’s easy,” said Hanby. "We treat
’em as If they were human.
Hanby started as a strange but
somehow familiar voice broke in.
“They gave a feast the night be¬
fore Waterloo!” shouted the voice,
from the distant balcony.
“It’s that Mucker,” Mary said.
“The idea 1”
“Smucker,” Hanby corrected. “I
had forgotten all about him. Tell
him I’ll be there in a moment.”
“He’s got his nerve 1” said Junior.
“Besides, the people who gave the
feast before Waterloo won the bat¬
tle. Dad, I hate that man 1 1 wish
you’d fire him. Whenever I go to
the office, he tries to head me off
from seeing you.”
“He wishes to save me money,”
said Hanby, rising.
Mary descended wrathfully on
Smucker. He was conscious that his
intellectual superiority was lost on
her. In the slangy, expressive phrase
of her class, she gave Smucker her
opinion of him.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
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