But Professor Braddock, who did not belong to the gray tribe, knew

nothing of this, as his Egyptological studies did not permit him time to

argue on such commonplace matters. He therefore failed in advance when

he set out to persuade Random into renewing his suit. As the fiery

little man afterwards expressed himself, "I might as well have talked to

a mollusc," for Random politely declined to be used as an instrument

to forward the Professor's ambition at the cost of Miss Kendal's

unhappiness. The interview took place in Sir Frank's quarters at the

Fort on the day after Hervey had called to propose a search for the

corpse. And it was during this interview that Braddock learned something

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which both startled and annoyed him.

Random, at three o'clock, had just changed into mufti, when the

Professor was announced by his servant. Braddock, determined to give his

host no chance of denying himself, followed close on the man's heels,

and was in the room almost before Sir Frank had read the card. It was

a bare room, sparsely furnished, according to the War Office's idea

of comfort, and although the baronet had added a few more civilized

necessities, it still looked somewhat dismal. Braddock, who liked

comfort, shook hands carelessly with his host and cast a disapproving

eye on his surroundings.

"Dog kennel! dog kennel!" grumbled the polite Professor. "Bare

desolation like a damned dungeon. You might as well live in the Sahara."

"It would certainly be warmer," replied Random, who knew the scientist's

snappy ways very well. "Take a chair, sir!"

"Hard as bricks, confound it! Hand me over a cushion. There, that's

better! No, I never drink between meals, thank you. Smoke? Hang it,

Random, you should know by this time that I dislike making a chimney of

my throat! There! there! don't fuss. Take a seat and listen to what I

have to say. It's important. Poke the fire, please: it's cold."

Random placidly did as he was told, and then lighted a cigar, as he sat

down quietly.

"I am sorry to hear of your trouble, sir.'"

"Trouble! trouble! What particular trouble?"

"The death of your assistant."

"Oh yes. Silly young ass to get killed. Lost my mummy, too: there's

trouble if you like."

"The green mummy." Random looked into the fire, "Yes. I have heard of

the green mummy."

"I should think you have," snapped Braddock, warming his plump hands.

"Every penny-a-liner has been talking about it. When did you return?"

"On the same day that that steamer with the mummy on board arrived," was

Random's odd reply.

The Professor stared suspiciously. "I don't see why you should date your

movements by my mummy," he retorted.

"Well, I had a reason in doing so."

"What reason?"

"The mummy--"

"What about it?--do you know where it is?" Braddock started to his feet,

and looked eagerly at the calm face of his host.




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