HEPPNER GAZETTE TIMES, HEPPNER, OREGON, THURSDAY, JAN. 28, 1926.
PAGE THREE
Jhe
A Sequel to Bulldog Drummond.
BY SXUL M'NEILE
COPTRICKT ST
B. DORAN CO.
SYNOPSIS
CHAPTER I. To a gathering of annr
chuu in Barking. London suburb, Zaboleff,
foreign aKitator, tclla of the operations of
a body of men who have become a menace
to their activities. He is interrupted by
tne men ne is describing (the Black Gang),
who break up the meeting, sentencing some
of the participants to condign punishment
and carrying away others. A memorandum
found on ZabolefT gives an address in Hon
ton, London, which the leader of the at
tacking party considers of importance.
CHAPTER II. Sir Bryan JohnBtone, di
rector of criminal investigation, hears from
Inspector Mclver, sent to arrest Zaboleflf
the night before, of his discomfiture. He
had been seized and chloroformed and his
raid frustrated. Hugh Drummnd, man of
leisure and old friend of Johnstone's ar
rives and tells of seeing the kidnapers and
their victims. He becomes an unpaid agent
of the police to be under the direction of
Mclver, and takes up his duties at once.
CHAPTER III. A "Mr. William Atkin
son," ostensibly pawnbroker and money
lender, really Count Zadowa, director of
anarchy In England, does business in an
other London suburb. A mysterious stran.
ger Invades the premises. Count Zadowa,
after a brief glimpse f the intruder, is
strangely disconcerted.
CHAPTER IV. Drummond, having
knowledge of Atkinson's anarchistic active
Ities, arranges to burglarize the latter's
office to secure evidence of the fact. While
so engaged, with two companions, a bomb
Is hurled at them from an adjoining room.
t
CHAPTER V
In Which the Bag of Nuts Is Found
by Accident.
IT WAS the desk'that saved Drum
mond, and with him Ted Jeining
ham. Flat on their faces, their
arms covering their heads, they lay
on the floor waiting, as in the days
gone by they had waited for the
bursting of a too-near crump. They
heard Ginger Martin, as he blunder
ed round the room, and then sud
denly it came.
There was a deafening roar, and a
sheet of flame which teemed to fill
the room. Great lumps of the ceiling
rained down and the big roll-ton desk
cracked in pieces and splintered into
matchwood, fell over on top of them.
But it had done its work; it had borne
the full force of the explosion in
their direction. As a desk its day whs
past; it had become a series of holes
Toughly held together by frugment.i
of wood.
So much Drummond could nee by
the aid of his torch. With the ex
plosion all the lights had gone out
and for a while he lay pressed against
Ted Jerningham trying to recover nis
wits. His head was singing like a
bursting kettle; his back felt as if
it was broken where a vast lump of
ceiling had hit him. But after mov
ing his legs cautiously and then his
arms, he decided that he was still
alive. And having arrived at that
momentous conclusion the necessity
for prompt action became evident.
A bomb bursting in London is not
exactly a private affair.
"Are you all right, Ted?" he mut
tered hoarsely, his mouth full of
plaster and dust.
"I think so, old man," answered
Jerningham, and Drummond heaved a
sigh cf relief, "I got a whack on the
back of the head from something."
Drummond scrambled to his feet,
and switched on his torch. Thfc
wreckage was complete, but it was for
the third member of the party that
he was looking. And after a moment
or two he found him, and cursed with
a vigorous fury that boded ill for the
person who had thrown the bomb, if
he ever met him.
For Ginger Martin, being either too
frightened or too ignorant, had not
done as he was told. There had been
no desk between him and the bomb
when it burst, and what was left
of him adorned a corner. There was
nothing to be done: the unfortunate
crook would never again burgle a
safe. And the only comfort to Drum
mond was that death must have been
absolutely instantaneous.
"Poor devil," he muttered. "Some
one is going to pay for this."
And then he felt Jerningham clut
ching his arm.
"It's blown a hole in the wall, man.
Look." ,
It was true: he could see the light
of a street lamp shining through a
great jagged hole.
"Some bomb," he muttered. "Let's
clear."
He gave a final flash of his torch
round the floor, as they moved toward
the shattered wall, and then sudden
ly stopped.
"What's that?"
Right in the center of the beam,
lying in the middle of the floor, was
a small chamois leather bag. It
seemed unhurt, and, without thinking,
Hugh picked it up and put it in his
pocket. Then switching off the. torch,
they both clambered through the
hole, dropped on to a lean-to roof,
and reached the ground.
They were at the back of the
house in some deserted mews, and
rnpidity of movement was clearly in
dicated. Already a crowd was hurry
ing to the scene of the explosion,
and slipping quietly out of tho dark
alley, they joined in themselves.
"Go home, Ted," said Drummond.
"I must get the others."
"Right, old man." He "made no
demur, but just vanished quietly,
while his leader slouched on toward
the front door of 6 Green street.
The police were already beating on it,
while a large knot of interested spec
tators giving gratuitous advice stood
around them. And in the crowd
Drummond could see six of his gang,
six anxious'men who had determined
police or no police to get upstairs
and gee what had happened. In one
and all their minds was a sickening
fear, that the man they followed had
at laBt bitten off more than he could
chew that they'd find him blown to
pieces in the mysterious room up
stairs. And then, quite clear and distinct
above the excited commenti of the
crowd, came the hooting of an owl. A
strange sound, but no one paid any
attention. Other more engrossing
matters were on hand, more engross
ing that is to all except the six men
who instantaneously swung half
round as they heard it. For just
a Becond they had a glimpse of a
huge figure standing in the light of
a lamp post on the other side of the
street then it disappeared. And with
astonishing celerity they followed its
example. Whoever had been hurt, it
was not Drummond; and that, at the
moment, was all they were concern
ed with.
By devious routes they left the
scene of the explosion each with
the same goal in his mind. And with
in an hour six young men, shorn of
all disguises and clad in immaculate
evening clothes, were admitted to
Drummond's house in Brook street by
a somewhat sleepy Denny.
They found Hugh arrayed in a
gorgeous dressing gown with a large
tankard of beer beside him, and his
wife sitting on the arm of his chair.
"What happened, old lad?" asked
Peter Darrell.
"I got handed a fozen mitten. I
asked for bread, and they put across
a half-brick. To be absolutely ac
curate we got into the room all right,
and having got in we found we could
n't get out. Then some one switched
on the light and bunged a bomb at
us through a hole in the door. Quite
0. K. old girl" he put a reassuring
arm around Phyllis' waist "L think
we'd be still there if they hadn't"
"Is Ted all right?" asked Toby Sin
clair. "Yes. Ted's all right. Got a young
load of bricks in his back when the
ceiling came down but he's all right.
It's the other poor devil Ginger Mar
tin." His face was grim and stern
and the others waited in silence for
him to continue.
"There was a big desk in the room,
and the bomb fell on one side of it.
Ted and I gave our well-known im
personation of an earthworm on the
other, which saved us. Unfortunately,
Ginger Martin elected to run around
in a small circle and curse, and he
will curse no more."
"Dead?" Peter Darrell's voice was
low.
"Very," answered Drummond quiet
ly. "The poor blighter was blown
to pieces. If he'd done what I told
him he wouldn't have been, but that's
beside the point. He was working
for me, and he was killed while he
was doing so. And ! don't like that
happening."
"What do you propose to do?" de
manded Jerry Seymour.
"Well, there, old son, at the mo
ment you have me beat," conceded
Hugh. "I sort of figured it out this
way. Whoever the bird is who bung
ed that bomb, he recognized me as
being the leader of our little bunch.
I mean it was me he was staring at
through the door with eyes bubbling
over with tenderness and love. It
was me that bally bomb was intended
TaJ IWfliT IV
f r f. r
HAINES CITY
. PROGRESS
PROM a "wide spot in the road" on an old
Indian trail between Jacksonville and Tampa
to the most desirable site in Central Florida for
manufacturers and distributors there are the
limits of Haines City's progress 1
Fifty years ago Haines City was the site (because
of its central location and pleasant living con
ditions) of the meetings of Seminole Indians.
Today, it is the center of a nation-wide migra
tion. The reason has not changed. That predicts
progress.
Five years ago, Haines City had 658 residents.
Today, its 6,000 population is as one man pre
paring for many thousands more. Tfcat in
progress.
In July of 1925, I selected Haines City as the
seat of a ?21, 000,000 development program. Since
that time, real estate transactions have mounted
into millions of dollars. New buildings have been
started and completed. Large industries have an
nounced their intention of moving to Haines
City, and have bought sites for their plants.
That proves progress.
Tfmnl Bryson
REALTOR
I rrrrr- y.
for not Ginger Martin, though he
was actually doing the work. And if
this cove is prepared to wreck his
office just to get me out of the way
I guess I must be somewhat unpopu
lar." "The reasoning seems extraordin
arily profound," murmured Peter.
"Now, the great point is does he
know who I am?" continued Hugh.
"Our great difficulty before Zaboleff
was kind enough to present us with
the address of their headquarters
was to get in touch with the man
at the top. And now the headquar
ters are no more. No man can work
in an office with periodical bowlders
falling on his head from the roof,
and a large hole in the wall just be
hind him. I mean there's no privacy
about it And so unless he knows
me he won't be able to carry on the
good work when he finds that neither
of my boots has reached the top of
St. Paul's. We shall be parted again,
which is dreadful to think of. Why,
we might even pass one another in
the street as complete strangers."
"I get you," said Peter. "And you
don't know him." .
"Not well enough to call him Ber
tie. There's a humpbacked blighter
up there who calls himself a count,
and on whom I focused the old optic
for about two seconds the other eve
ning. But whether he's the humor
ist who bunged the bomb or not is a
different matter." He glanced up as
the door opened. "What U it Den
ny?" "I found this bag, sir, in the pocket
of the coat you fere wearing to
night." His servant came into the room
carrying the chamois leather bag,
which he handed to Drummond.
The door closed behind him, and
Hugh stared thoughtfully at the bag
in his hand.
"I'd forgotten about this. Saw it
lying on the floor, just before we hop
ped it. Hullo! It's sealed."
"For goodness' sake be careful,
boy!" cried Phyllis. "It may be an
other bomb."
Hugh laughed and ripped open the
bag; then his eyes slowly widened
in amazement as he saw the con
tents. "Great Scott!" he cried. "What
the devil have we got here?"
He emptied the bag out on the
table, and for, a moment or two the
others Stared silently at half a dozen
objects that flashed, and glittered
with a thousand fires. Five of them
were white; but the sixth appreci
ably larger than the otherB, and they
were the size of walnut was a won
derful rose pink.
"What on earth are they? Lumps
of glass?"
With a hand that shook a little,
Toby Sinclair picked one of them up
and examined it.
"No, you fellows," he muttered,
"they're diamonds!"
"Rot!" cried Hugh incredulously.
"They're diamonds," repeated Toby.
"I happen to know something about
precious stones. These are dia
monds." "But they must be worth a lot,"
said Phyllis, picking up the pink
one.
"Worth a lot," said Toby dazedly.
"Worth a lot! Why Mrs. Hugh, they
are literally worth untold gold in
the right market. They are absolute
ly priceless. I've never even thought
of such stones. That one that you're
holding in your hand would be worth
over a quarter of a million pounds,
if you could get the right buyer."
For a moment no one spoke; then
Hugh laughed cheerily.
"Bang goes next month's dress al
lowance, old thing!" He swept them
all into the bag, and stood up, I'll
laying even money that the bomb
thrower is coughing some and then
again over his bread-and-milk. This
bag must have been in the desk." His
shoulders begai to shake. "Ho
frightfully funny!"
(To Be Continued.)
NOTICE TO CREDITORS.
Notice is hereby given that the un
dersigned has been appointed by the
County Court of the State of Oregon
for Morrow County administrator of
the estate of Charles W. Caldwell,
deceased, and that all persons having
claims against the said estate must
present the same, duly verified ac
cording to law, to me at the office of
my attorney, S. E. Notion, in Hepp
ner, Oregon, within six months from
the date of first publication of this
notice, said date of first publication
being the 28th day of January, 1926.
M. F. CALDWELL,
Administrator.
NOTICE.
The Willing Workers are prepared
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sew carpet rags, etc., at reasonable
prices. See Mrs. Jeff Jones for fur
ther information.
One, two or three furnished and
heated rooms for rent. See C. A.
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