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Page 33
It was for ten thousand dollars.
* * * * *
At six minutes after eight the following evening the Countess Casanova,
moved from her professional calm, hurriedly closed the sliding doors
between the two rooms of her apartment and sprang to the telephone where
she frantically demanded a number. The delay seemed interminable to her,
but at last she began to speak.
"That you, Ed? F'r God's sake, beat it over here quick. That boob las'
night is back here an' _he's got it_. I dunno--but something _big_, I
tell you. He's actin' like a crazy man. Listen here! He wants t' know
can you _locate_ it--see it lyin' there underground. Why, the mummy;
yes. M-u-m-m-i-e. Yes, sure! He's afraid mebbe they already dug him up
an' got him in a mus�e somewheres, but if it's still there he wants it.
Yes, sure thing, dontchu un'stand? _Wants_ it! How in--how can I tell?
That's up to you. Git here! Sure--fifty-fifty!"
Bean glanced up feverishly as the Countess reappeared. She was smoothing
her hair and readjusting the set of the scarlet wrapper. Her own
excitement was apparent.
"It's all right. I think he'll come, but it was a close call. He was
jes' packin' his grip f'r Wash'n'ton. Got a telegraph from the Pres'dent
to-day t' come at once. Of course he'll miss a big fee. The Pres'dent
don't care f'r money when it's a question of gittin' th' right advice--"
"Oh, money!" murmured Bean, and waved a contemptuous hand.
His manner was not lost upon his hearer.
"Lots of money made in a hurry, these days," she suggested, "or got hold
of some way--gits left to parties--thousand dollars, mebbe--two, three,
four thousand?"
Again he performed the pushing gesture, as if he were discommoded by
money. He scarcely heard her voice.
The Countess did not venture another effort to appraise his wealth.
She fell silent, watching him. Bean gazed at a clean square on the
wall-paper where a picture had once hung. Then the authoritative tread
was again heard on the stairway, and again the Countess Casanova
welcomed Professor Balthasar to her apartment. She expressed a polite
regret for having annoyed him.
Professor Balthasar bestowed his shiny hat upon her, enveloped his
equally shiny skull with the silken cap and assured her that his mission
was to serve. Bean had not risen. He still stared at the wall.
"I'll jes' leave you alone with our friend here," said the Countess
charmingly. The professor questioned her with a glance and she shook her
head in response, yet her gesture as she vanished through the curtains
was one of large encouragement.
The professor faced Bean and coughed slightly. Bean diverted his stare
to the professor and seemed about to speak, but the other silenced him
with a commanding forefinger.
"Not a word! I see it all. You impose your tremendous will upon me."
He took the chair facing Bean and began swiftly:
"I see the path over the desert. I stop beside a temple. Sand is all
about. Beneath that temple is a stone sarcophagus. Within it lies the
body of King Tam-rah--"
"Ram-tah!" corrected Bean gently.
"Did I not say Ram-tah?" pursued the seer. "There it has lain sealed for
centuries, while all about it the tombs of other kings have been
despoiled by curiosity hunters looking for objects of interest to place
in their cabinets. But Ram-tah, last king of the pre-dynastic period,
though others will tell you differently, but that's because he never got
into history much, by reason of his uniformly gentlemanly conduct. He
rests there to-day precisely as he was put. I see it all; I penetrate
the heaped sands. At this moment the moon shines upon the spot, and a
night bird is calling to its mate in the mulberry tree near the
northeast corner of the temple. I see it all. I am there! What is this?
What is this I get from you, my young friend?"
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