Boy's Cinema (1930-31)

Every Tuesday BOY'S CINEMA 17 A young man inherits an old house and at once strange things begin to happen—behind everything hovers the shadow of a limping man. Starring Franklin Dyall. Tinker's Revel. A WOMAN'S scream rang through the old house. One moment she had been playing the piano with apparent un- concern, and the next she was on her feet staring at the panelling of the room with horrified eyes; then $he screamed and ran blindly from the drawing-room. And from the panelling came a shuffling noise like someone dragging a chain. The sound died slowly away; silence, and then a babble of voices from people hurrying towards the drawing- room. Quite a crowd poured into the room, and they stared round, trying to denote anything unusual. Eight people, and all are worthy of description, because they were to look askance at each other within the next few hour.s. The grey-haired man of fifty with the well-cut blue suit, dark cravat, and soldierly appearance was Sir Edwin Paget. His ch-an-shaven face was lined, but not from worry, as Sir Edwin always looked on the bright side of life. A kindly man, who had never ex- periencecl undue worry, and had been blessed with a splendid wife and a beautiful daughter. Lady Paget was a white-haired, buxom woman, a year younger than her hueband. She was still vei"y good- looking, and her face was as free from wrinkles as that of a girl. She wore a travelling dress of blue serge, and did not look unduly distressed by the fact that the house seemed to be haunted. The tall, I'air-haired girl with the slim figure, soft skin, and smiling blue eyes so resembled her mother that sometimes people, for a joke, called them sisters. She was wearing a sports outfit of cream and buff, and her eyes were dancing with excitement. A healthy, athletic young woman, who could give any man a good game at tennis and could ride the fiercest of horses. Gloria was a typical sjiortiiig English girl. By her side was a dark-haired young man with a well-knit body, a strong chin, and alert brown eyes. Brian Nash, * the new owner of Tinker's Revel, stood there with clenched fists as if ready to do battle with an enemy. Seeing nothing, he turned for explanation to the two people behind him. Mrs. Hoyt was rather too well-dressed, and, though she looked young, a close study of her features would have re- vealed that her beauty and youth were mainly due to the aids of beauty par- lours. The type of woman who does not reveal her age, and who is always inclined to be gushing. " 1 was playing the piano." She spoke on the high note of hysteria. " Suddetily I stopped as I heard a noise, then I heard a weird clanking noise, and it sounded like someone walking, but not properly." The middle-aged man behind her watched his wife from nanxjwed eyes. A toucji of the Spaniard about Peter Hoyt, and though the eyes were rather close, he seemed a veiy decent fellow, veiy much in love with his beautiful wife. "Olga," he said, "are you sure you weren't dreaming?" "Of coulee I wasn't dreaming!" she flashed at him. " It was behind that panelling." " Tinker's Revel is very old," spoke a solemn voice, and Sparrow, the butler, gave a respectful bow. " They say that this place was the haunt of smugglers, and that secret passages are hidden all over the house and grounds. I would respectfully suggest that Mrs. Hoyt heard a mouse, or perhaps some old bricks " "Do mice wear chains?" Mrs. Hoyt retorted. "Ha, ha! Mice wear chains—that's good!" guffawed Sir Edwin. "Bet I know one woman who would like to see 'em manacled." He grinned at his wife, then turned to Brian. "Well, my boy, you seem to have inherited a spooky old place." "Sparrow's right about smugglers," stated Brian, walking slowly along the patielling and tapping with his knuckles. "I haven't been here since I was a kid, but I remember my uncle telling me some tales that made my hair stand on end. Smuggleis, desperate men, soldiers in hiding. We're some miles out of Canterbuiy, and to the east lies marsh country and the sea—an ideal spot for smugglers in the old days. Uncle told me that our fauiily made all their money by smuggling brandy and silks, but he was a bit of a tale-teller. 1 never came here again, as my mother quarrelled with him, and he swore ho did not want to see his sister again." " Yet he left you this fine old place ?" The question was asked by the eigl;th member of the party—a short, thickset, sandy-haired young man with r.nther fierce blue eyes. "Wonder he didn't leave his money to a dog's home." " Would have done if he hadn't died unexpectedly—groggy heart." Brian shrugged his shoulders. "Left no will, and 1 was next-of-kin, except for a younger " ~ He did not finish v.h.nt he was going to say. "Paul, this panelling sounds hollow.*' Paul "Tcgle grinned at Gloria, then joined Brian Nash. Both tapped the panelling, whilst the Hoyts watched in a ner\'ous, expectant manner. " Seems hollow," admitted Paul. "W'hen I've got settled I'll have the panelling down," decided Brian. "At any rate, I think it was only a rat or some loose biicks, and I suggest we go back to the fire in the lounge." "Hear, hoar!" seconded Sir Edwin. "I hate spooks; besides, I've got some- thing I've been itching to get off my chest—I loathe speeches." Solemnly the party trooped back to the lounge, where Sparrow begged to be excused. "Mabel and Agnes have gone out, sir," he said to the new master. "It was their evening, and they're in Canterbury. I did not know you wejo coming down so soon, sir, ancf servants are very difficult. They would not give up the ^evening, and, I'm afraid, sir, September 19th, 1931. k:.