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Updated: May 29, 2025
"MY DEAR PUGH I hope you will like the pipe which I send with this. It is rather a curious example of a certain school of Indian carving. And is a present from "Yours truly, Joseph Tress." It was really very handsome of Tress very handsome! The more especially as I was aware that to give presents was not exactly in Tress's line. The truth is that when I saw what manner of pipe it was I was amazed.
But when I repeated Tress's words about its being haunted, and mentioned my own delusion about the creature moving, he took a more serious view of the case than I had expected he would do. "I propose that we act on Tress's suggestion, and go and make inquiries of him." "But you don't really think that there is anything in it?" "On these subjects I never allow myself to think at all.
I was telling myself how foolish I had been to allow myself to dwell for a moment on Tress's words, when Martin Brasher was shown in. Brasher is an old friend of mine. We have a common ground ghosts. Only we approach them from different points of view. He takes the scientific psychological inquiry side. He is always anxious to hear of a ghost, so that he may have an opportunity of "showing it up."
There are Tress's words, and there is your story. It is agreed on all hands that the pipe has peculiar properties. It seems to me that there is a sufficient case here to merit inquiry." He persuaded me. I went with him. The pipe, in the sandalwood box, went too. Tress received us with a grin a grin which was accentuated when I placed the sandalwood box on the table.
But I, who had previous experience of Tress's methods of adding to his collection, was not at all surprised. Some of the pipes which he calls his, if only the whole truth about them were publicly known, would send him to jail. "That's nothing!" he continued. "All collectors steal! The eighth commandment was not intended to apply to them.
It appeared to have been carved in amber, but some coloring matter must have been introduced, for inside the amber the creature was of a peculiarly ghastly green. The more I examined the pipe the more amazed I was at Tress's generosity. He and I are rival collectors.
"Bob" whose real name was Robert Haines, though I should think he must have forgotten the fact, so seldom was he addressed by it was Tress's servant. He had been an old soldier, and had accompanied his master when he left the service. He was as depraved a character as Tress himself. I am not sure even that he was not worse than his master. I shall never forget how he once behaved toward myself.
"What's the matter? Have I been ill?" "You appear to have been in some kind of swoon." Tress's tone was peculiar, even a little dry. "Swoon! I never was guilty of such a thing in my life." "Nor was I, until I smoked that pipe." I sat up. The act of sitting up made me conscious of the fact that I had been lying down. Conscious, too, that I was feeling more than a little dazed.
Again Tress's tone was distinctly dry. "How came you here?" "Ah, that's the question." He rubbed his chin a habit of his which has annoyed me more than once before. "Do you think you're sufficiently recovered to enable you to understand a little simple explanation?" I stared at him, amazed. He went on stroking his chin. "The truth is that when I sent you the pipe I made a slight omission."
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