1938-08-08 — Page 8

MUTT AND JEFF

OH-EOWW OHHHH Owwww

JEFF HERE

THE CHINA MAIL, AUGUST 8, 1988.

By BUD FISHER

I WASN'T

GROANING

I WAS SINGING!

OHWWW

Owwwww

DRINK THIS!

THERE, YOU'LL BE O.K, NOW -. - HOW DO YOU FEEL?

WHAT: WAS THE MATTER?

THEN WHY

NOTHING, WHY?

WERE YOU

GROANING?

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HERE was a strangeness about Pan- of his time is spent with his books--

cho Ortegna that was hard to des- and his experiments."

THE

I glanced at Juan quickly. "Do you mean

"

cribe. There was mystery in his eyes, a wildness, a curiously detached look. Yet he had the high forehead of Again Juan shrugged. "Who knows. intelligence, the cheek-bones and nose One cannot, experiment without the of breeding, the erect carriage of pride. proper ingredients.

He was the type of man that you look- ed at twice.

Certain natives have mysteriously disappeared during

a headless body was found in a pit not I first saw him two summers ago in the past six months. Three weeks ago

out- Cano. It was swelteringly hot side, but within the dark interior of a smile from town." Cabello's saloon you could forget the

Filled with a sense of horror, I knew heat. Cabello took pride in the selec- a strange curiosity to meet and talk times drive men mad. However, if tion of his liquor and his dancing girls, with this man again. Obsessions some-

three piece band that this scientist.

and even the

played American music poorly.

Unconsciously I quickened my step,

Ortegna was sitting alone at a table, an untouched drink at his elbow, an but when we arrived at Cabello's, Pan- open book in his lap. No one bother- cho Ortegna was gone...

Juan

ed him; the dancing girls veered away; I did not see him again for two years. there was a respect in the attitude of The second meeting left an even more the waiter who served him that wasn't vivid impression than the first.

and I were renewing our-acquaintance evidenced for other customers.

and discussing old times over a bottle Across the of Cabello's fine liquor. room an old man was reading a book.

"Pancho Ortegna!" I exclaimed, sud- denly.

"No, that is

"Who is he?" I asked Juan. "Pancho Ortegna, the head hunter." "Head hunter?" I stared, drink teeth Juan's white held suspended. flashed against his dark skin. "It surprises you, yes?

This busi-

Juan shook his head.

By Karl Grayson

ness of head hunting. Come, surely no one more important thau Cabello's you have heard of the head hunting old father, who comes here daily to get out of the heat." His face became tribes?"

"You Ameri-

"Who hasn't?" I assented. "But who graye. "You are curious about Pan-

cho Ortegna, eh?" ever believed them?"

I admitted that I was. There were "Come," said Juan.

a thousand questions I wanted to ask, cans must be shown."

I followed Juan down Cano's single for I had thought of the scientist more street, beneath the blazing sun, and than once during the intervening years. "Come," said Juan. And once more into the cool dark interior of what might pass as a gift shop back home. I followed him down the blazing street Juan spoke rapidly in his native tongue and into the gloomy interior of the This time to the swarthy gentleman behind the shop we had visited before. counter. The swarthy gentleman look Juan spoke longer with the swarthy ed at me, shrugged, and disappeared gentleman behind the counter. But at into a back room. In a moment he length he disappeared. I waited with reappeared carrying in his hand an ob- no little misgivings. The object that the shop owner carried when he re- ject that caused my flesh to crawl.

The object was a human head, Burled sent a cold wave through my

* There was no mistaking it. It symetrically to about the size of orange. Nose, ears and all the facial was the shrunken head of Pancho Or- planes were in exact proportion. The togna.

"Poor lips were sewed. Long, silken hair Juan shook his head sadly.

devil. He ventured too far with flowed from the crown.

1

his

Sweat oozed from my pores. Juan 'experiments. Such is the price of laughed. "You believe now, eh?"

"Sure," I said, mopping my face. "I've got to believe. But this Pancho Ortegna, he's a white man

"

Juan interrupted with a gesture. The swarthy gentleman offered me the head for twenty-five dollars. When I re- fused it, he shrugged indifferently and disappeared behind the curtainsi

"The Ecuadorian government will fine you four hundred dollars for pos sessing one of these heads," Juan- ex- plained as we left the store. "No one has yet been able to discover how the savage tribes remove the bones before

science."

(Copyright, 1938, By The Associated Newspapers).

BUSINESS BLIND

MAN'S BUFF

is the game played by those

who try to get along without

the shrinking is done, and little else KELLY'S DIRECTORY

about the actual shrinking process.

"Pancho Ortegna is a scientist. He came down here two years ago, deter- mined to solve the mystery. Natural- ly he ran into difficulties because of the government rules against head hunting. But this only made him more determined. He visited tribo after tribe. Those who were friendly play- ed innocent, flatly refusing to admit. any knowledge about the business. From the other tribes, the hostiles, Pancho barely escaped with his life. --

The determination to solve the my- that has baked science for gen- mamme an obsession with *Respoles Most

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