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Hume, Fergus, 1859-1932

"The Green Mummy"


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.
"No, I wish I did. How much did you pay for it, Professor?"
"What's that to you?" snapped the other, resuming his seat.
"Nothing at all. But it is a great deal to Don Pedro de
Gayangos.


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