by Harold Ward
“Lead on!” he said, echoing Jimmy’s command.
HATASU was already part way down the passage, a torch held aloft. He was searching, apparently, for some landmark by which to orient himself. Suddenly he found it and darted off, chattering like a magpie. The others followed.
The old man pointed upward.
At least twenty feet above them, so small as to be almost indiscernible in the dim light, was a round hole in the solid rock of the passageway wall.
Ricks gasped.
“It will take us an hour to get outside and find material for a ladder,” he growled. “Meanwhile—”
“Meanwhile, time is of value to us, as I said before,” Holm growled. “There’s another way.”
“Meaning—?”
“A pyramid.”
The eyes of Inspector Ricks gleamed with new hope.
“By God! You’re right—as usual!” he snapped.
He placed his back against the wall and cupped his hands in front of him, his keen eyes sizing up the men who stood before him.
“You, Edgeworth!” he growled. “You’re the biggest and strongest of the bunch. It’s up to you to make the other side of this human ladder.”
The young scientist shrugged his shoulders. He was a curious mixture of good and bad, this man who had discovered the method of harnessing the solar rays. Yet he took his place as he was commanded.
“Jeez! This is good!” he chuckled, rubbing his jaw ruefully. “One minute a man knocks me down and the next he climbs over me to rescue the woman he loves. All right, let’s go.”
He cupped his hands in front of him as Ricks had done and nodded to the others.
RICKS selected two of the lighter and more agile men from among the squad of soldiers. Their black eyes gleaming with excitement, they leaped forward at the interpreter’s command. It took them but a second to mount the shoulders of the two men at the bottom of the pyramid.
“Now the next two!” Ricks grunted.
He started to give them their instructions, but the interpreter halted him.
“They understand,” he said. “They have often watched the Zouave drill of the French Foreign Legion of Algiers. They have even practiced it among themselves.”
The third pair of soldiers were already clambering up over the shoulders of their fellows. An instant later a hiss told those at the bottom that they had reached their places.
Jimmy Holm, his shoes discarded, in stockinged feet, stepped back a pace and gazed upward. The shoulders of the men who were atop the pyramid were within a yard of the little hole. With a sharp word of command, he darted forward and went to the top like a fireman going up a ladder. The mass of men under him writhed and twisted as those below struggled to keep their balance and, at the same time, hold up the enormous weight that was on their shoulders.
Holm seized the sloping edge of the hole and thrust his arms and shoulders inside. An instant later the pyramid gave way as someone lost his balance and fell. Old Ricks cursed frenziedly as he whirled, his arms outstretched, ready to break Holm’s fall.
Then his curse changed to a whoop of admiration as he saw the young man’s toes gripping for a hold against the smooth wall... saw his body cease its slow movement downward... stop...
Then, slowly, yet, nevertheless, surely, his body moved forward again until he was inside the hole to the waist. A moment later only his feet showed. Then he was gone.
Ricks gasped in admiration, wiping the sweat from his perspiring brow. “By God, he made it!”
Barely wide enough to allow the passage of his shoulders, Holm squirmed through the black hole. For a few yards it sloped sharply upward. Then, twisting to the right, it took a gradual down grade. It was with difficulty that he negotiated the turn. Traveling was easier now, although he was still forced to snake himself along. There was nothing for him to grasp with which to pull his body forward. The little tunnel was as slippery as glass. It was only by the contraction of his muscles that he moved at all.
Suddenly, gazing ahead through the darkness, he was certain that he saw a dim light. He wormed himself forward a few feet more. The light grew stronger. Another yard and he was gazing into the tomb of Anubis.
Death was standing upon a dais which covered half of the mosaic floor of the huge cavern. In the center of this great dais was an elaborate onyx sarcophagus which he was examining. Behind him stood Nina Fererra. There was a look of resignation on her beautiful face as she held one of the resinous torches above her head, the better to light the old doctor’s investigations.
“A bit closer, my dear,” Death rasped.
He raised his head, his keen eyes glittering. Jimmy, in pushing through the opening, dislodged a tiny bit of stone. It fell to the floor with a clatter. An instant later he was through.
Yet, because the opening was several feet above the floor level, it was necessary for him to creep forward on his hands.
Death darted forward, his cavernous eyes glistening.
“You!” he exclaimed.
Jimmy Holm felt the powerful thought waves of the sinister old scientist surge over him. He tried to combat them. But, all of his efforts centered upon getting through the opening, he had, for the nonce, let down his guard. His mind was not steeled against the powerful will of the monster.
He leaped to his feet... staggered backward a pace. Then he stopped, the same look of resignation creeping over his face that he had seen on that of Nina.
For the moment the battle was lost.
“Jimmy! Oh, Jimmy!”
Nina was in his arms.
Death stood back a pace, his gaunt arms folded across his thin chest, his eyes glistening like those of a serpent.
“Love!” he meditated. “Love! Will I never understand it?”
Chapter XXIII
Curse of Anubis
DEATH stooped down and retrieved the torch that Nina had dropped. Beside it were several others that he had carried in. He lighted a second from the blaze of the first.
Stooping, he gazed into the opening through which Jimmy had made his entrance.
“I doubt if another man in the world could have squirmed through that hole,” he said musingly. “Yet I dare take no chances.”
He picked up a small wrecking bar from a number of articles spread out on the dais floor. With it he attacked the huge stones which composed the mosaic. Prying out several large, flat stones he jammed them into the opening.
“A man would be forced to use his head as a battering ram in order to break down that barricade,” he chuckled. Then, turning to Jimmy:
“Your revolver, please,” he said.
Holm handed it over as obediently as a little child.
Taking a pipe from his pocket, the old man filled and lighted it.
Knowing Jimmy to be under his domination, he was accepting him again as a part of his organization.
It seemed incongruous, this use of a modern device like a match in this age-old place. Death noticed it, for he chuckled.
“The magic of ancient Egypt against that of modern science and invention,” he said. “It was the Egyptians, my young friends, who first started the world on the downward path. And for what they did, they have been punished. Ancient Egypt fell; the tombs of her rulers have been desecrated. So will it be with America unless I can save it from the ruin that it has been courting for so long.”
The dais was raised nearly a yard above the floor. It was of vast size, covering nearly all of the one end of the room. Jimmy Holm gasped, a curious choking sensation coming to his throat as he gazed upon the background for this weird scene. Death handing him both torches, allowed the beam of his flashlight to move along the brilliantly painted wall.
In the center of a peculiar scroll was a row of hieroglyphics. Again Doctor Death translated:
Triumph Is Oftimes Worse Than Defeat
Taking one of the resinous flares from Jimmy, he stepped around the group of articles and onto the dais. For an instant Holm hesitated, his mind fogged by Death’s power
over his. Was this to be the end? he wondered. Was Doctor Death, cabalist that he was, to succeed in his mission? Was he to triumph, after all, over the forces of law and order? Would he be able to bring forth, as he had declared he would, the millions of dead of ancient Egypt to fall upon the modern world and destroy it?
The detective shuddered. He glanced at the brave girl by his side. He knew that she was thinking the same thing. America and all that it stood for seemed far away just now; the very air they breathed was pregnant with mystery and occultism.
Yet what could they do? Over them this weird, half-crazed man, with the intellect of a giant, had woven a spell which neither of them could shake off. He was their master, holding their very souls in the hollow of his hand.
They had witnessed his sorcery on too many occasions to doubt his ability to perform that which he promised if given the opportunity. And now it appeared that chance had arrived.
Death was bending down over the sarcophagus, examining it with minute care. Watching him, Jimmy Holm suddenly heaved a great sigh of relief.
The affair was of onyx, the legs carved to resemble the paws of the jackal, the claws dug firmly into the stone floor. The coffin must have weighed at least a hundred tons. The cover alone, weighed thousands of pounds. Without proper machinery, it would be an impossibility to remove it. Even with a derrick, the services of a great many men would be required. Of what avail, then, the puny strength of only three people—and one of them a frail girl?
The obstacle seemed in no way to worry Doctor Death, however. He calmly completed his observations, walking slowly around the great sarcophagus, running his fingers along the joints where the top set over the sides, his cavernous eyes gleaming, his tongue clucking as if in amazement at the wonderful workmanship displayed in its making.
Then, stooping down, he retrieved a small package that he had brought with him on his journey into the cave. It was wrapped in cloth around which a strong leather thong was tied. Untying this cord, he carefully unwrapped the bundle.
Revealed to the startled eyes of Jimmy Holm was a small automobile jack.
STILL clucking and chuckling to himself, the aged scientist carefully adjusted the jack under the outer edge of the sarcophagus lid, raising the bottom by means of several flat pieces of stone which he pried from the floor of the dais. They were similar to those with which he had blocked the opening of the ventilator through which Jimmy had made his entrance. About a foot square, they made a splendid mounting for the little hoisting device.
For an instant Doctor Death hesitated.
“As you both know,” he said in a subdued voice, “I am a pythonist. I consulted my oracles last night. The gift of life after death, as given to Anubis lies within my grasp. Victory is mine. Yet it may be a Pyrrhic victory. The oracles are for and against its success.”
For a moment he stood there, his face elevated, his lips moving as if in prayer. Then, stooping over, he placed his fingers upon the lever and commenced pumping.
There was a tremendous creaking as the ponderous lid of the hermetically sealed sarcophagus was slowly lifted. Inch by inch it was raised until it was up to the full height of the jack, leaving an opening along the one side between the cover and the edge at least a foot in width.
For the first time in his long acquaintance with Doctor Death, Holm saw the aged old scientist excited. His hand trembled as he picked up the electric torch and threw its rays inside the great onyx coffin.
It contained an inner wooden sarcophagus. Jimmy and Nina, stirred in spite of themselves, leaned forward and gazed in at it. Made of some sort of magnificently polished wood, it was highly painted and gilded. The lid, which was in relief, represented the figure of the occupant—a jackal-headed monstrosity, his hands crossed over his bosom. At his head and feet was the Ankh, symbol of life.
The outer sarcophagus was considerably longer than the inner, leaving room for several alabaster vases tightly sealed and containing the entrails of the dead deity.
Death pondered long and deeply over the hieroglyphics upon the lid of this inner coffin.
“The usual formula,” he said. “Anubis curses anyone who meddles with his bones, or desecrates his body, except that he says there shall be one who, appointed by the omnipotent One, shall come at the proper time. The arms of all others shall be broken, according to this curse. They shall go to their graves childless and damned by all men. Their vitals shall be torn out by the guardians of this tomb and scattered about the earth. There’s a lot more of the same sort of stuff which need not be translated, since I am the man appointed to bring forth this talisman which Anubis holds in his hand.”
From the little package in which he had carried the automobile jack, he selected a small wrecking bar. Inserting this under the edge of the inner coffin, using the stone side of the sarcophagus for a fulcrum, he threw his weight upon the iron.
There was a sound of breaking wood. Then the inner lid came slowly up, revealing the slim swaddled body. With the raising of the lid came a great gust of aromatic air; it almost stifled them, driving them back for an instant.
Waiting until it had cleared, Death stepped forward again and pried up the lid a second time. Asking Nina to hold the bar, he stepped to one end, with Jimmy at the other, lifted the wooden lid and sliding it out from beneath the stone top, laid it on the floor a little distance away.
THE cloth that swathed the body was brittle. Death took a knife from his pocket and, sliding it along the swaddling cloths, made a great slit down the front. Then, stretching his gaunt arms into the sarcophagus, he drew back the cloth and the form of Anubis, the jackal-headed monstrosity, was revealed.
In life the conductor of departed spirits had been of slight build. Perhaps a trifle over four feet in height, his body covered with fine hair, was little larger than that of a child, widening from the waist to a bull-like neck upon which were set a dog-like head with pointed snout and a long, tawny mane which hung down over the broad shoulders. In his right hand he clasped the scepter of his office. In his left hand was a small chain wrapped around his fingers. From it was suspended a golden locket set with scarabaeus.
“The secret for which I came,” Death said in an awed whisper.
His long fingers grasped the golden chain and tore it rudely from the mummified hand of the god.
The movement jarred the jack upon which the great stone top of the sarcophagus rested. Already overweighted, the slight movement snapped the slender spiral.
The heavy stone crashed down upon Death’s arm, pinioning him beneath its great weight.
The curse of Anubis had been fulfilled.
Chapter XXIV
“A Life for a Life!”
FORGETTING his hatred for the sinister creature who was at last in his power—remembering only that he was a fellow human in distress—Jimmy Holm leaped forward and, seizing the edge of the sarcophagus top, attempted to raise it. Death’s face was twisted into a look of agony. Great beads of perspiration stood out on his pale face. Yet his teeth were clinched tightly and he made no complaint.
“No use, Jimmy,” he said wearily as if the effort of speaking was almost too great. “No use. It would take the strength of a score of men to raise this ponderous stone which is pressing down upon me. And the stone is pressing on some vital nerve center, for my magic force fails me against this stone.”
There was logic in his words. Holm took the electric torch from Nina’s trembling fingers and, pressing the button, allowed the beam to light up the interior of the great sarcophagus. Death’s arm was broken. Common sense told him that. It had been crushed beneath that great weight of stone. Yet the bony fingers were still firmly gripped about the golden chain from which was suspended the locket in which the amulet of Anubis was enclosed.
“Did I not say that the oracles were both for and against my venture?” Death went on weakly. “They allowed me to overcome every obstacle to a certain point, but the magic of Anubis prevailed against me in the end. Yet there is a way, Jimmy—a way b
y which I can circumvent this jackal-headed god. Will you help me?”
Jimmy nodded.
A look of satisfaction crossed the old man’s saturnine countenance.
“The locket,” he said. “You will note that I am still grasping the chain. Reach your hand under the cover—it can be done, I think, by rolling back your sleeve. Your fingers will come in contact with mine. Twist them about the golden chain and remove the locket from the sarcophagus.”
Now would have been the time for Jimmy Holm to have rushed to the door and, by inserting the little key in the mechanism, opened it to his comrades. Yet he did not. As yet he had failed to completely throw off the magnetic influence of the sinister old man who, in spite of his suffering, was yet dominant over Jimmy and Nina.
Something told Jimmy Holm to obey. Turning, he reached down into the sarcophagus and seized the locket as he had been commanded. As his fingers touched the golden metal a strange light-headedness swept over him. For an instant his head seemed to be separated from his body and floating in mid-air. Death noted his expression and smiled.
“It is the power that is within the locket surging over you,” he said. “The energy of thousands of years of wisdom and magic condensed into so tiny a space. Bound up in it is the secret of life. Take it carefully from my benumbed fingers, Jimmy. Twist the chain about your hand before I release my grip upon it. Do you have it? Splendid. Now bring it forth.”
It was with an effort that Holm was able to lift the locket out of the sarcophagus. Weighing only a few ounces, there was an attraction of some kind that seemed to pull against him. He was forced to exert every bit of energy that he possessed to overcome it.
“The dead god objects to giving up that which he has treasured through the centuries,” Death said. He was happy in spite of his pain, feeling, as he did, that his battle was almost won. A seldom-seen smile hovered over his saturnine countenance.
“I cannot manipulate the lock with one hand, Jimmy,” he said. “You take it and see if you can so maneuver as to open the case and place the amulet in the fingers of this one hand of mine. With it I will call up the dead within the vast charnel house. The men who placed the cover upon this huge sarcophagus will leap to my command. They will lift the great weight from off my arm. Press the stones, manipulating them until the locket opens. Do you understand?”
