The False Gods

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The False Gods

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Lorimer
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Title: The False Gods
Author: George Horace Lorimer

Release Date: November 6, 2005 [eBook #17020]
Language: English
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THE FALSE GODS
by
GEORGE HORACE LORIMER
Author of "Letters from a Self-made Merchant to His Son"

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[Illustration: "Then ... the arms crushed him against the stone breast."]
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D. Appleton and Company New York 1906
Copyright, 1906, by George Horace Lorimer Copyright, 1906, by D.
Appleton and Company Entered at Stationer's Hall, London Published
April, 1906

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To A.V.L.

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CONTENTS
PAGE
I. 1
II. 11
III. 21
IV. 33
V. 39
VI. 51
VII. 59
VIII. 69
IX. 77
X. 81

[Illustration]
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
FACING PAGE
"Then ... the arms crushed him against the stone breast" Frontispiece
"'Aw, fergit it'" 4
"'She's the Real Thing'" 24
"Suddenly she felt him coming, and turned" 56

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THE FALSE GODS

I
It was shortly after ten o'clock one morning when Ezra Simpkins, a
reporter from the Boston Banner, entered the Oriental Building, that
dingy pile of brick and brownstone which covers a block on Sixth
Avenue, and began to hunt for the office of the Royal Society of
Egyptian Exploration and Research. After wandering through a
labyrinth of halls, he finally found it on the second floor. A few steps
farther on, a stairway led down to one of the side entrances; for the
building could be entered from any of the four bounding streets.
Simpkins regarded knocking on doors and sending in cards as
formalities which served merely to tempt people of a retiring
disposition to lie, so when he walked into the waiting-room and found

it deserted, he passed through it quickly and opened the door beyond.
But if he had expected this manoeuver to bring him within easy
distance of the person whom he was seeking, he was disappointed. He
had simply walked into a small outer office. A self-sufficient youth of
twelve, who was stuffed into a be-buttoned suit, was its sole occupant.
"Hello, bub!" said Simpkins to this Cerberus of the threshold. "Mrs.
Athelstone in?" and he drew out his letter of introduction; for he had
instantly decided to use it in place of a card, as being more likely to
gain him admittance.
"Aw, fergit it," the youth answered with fine American independence.
"I'll let youse know when your turn comes, an' youse can keep your
ref'rences till you're asked for 'em," and he surveyed Simpkins with
marked disfavor.
The reporter made no answer and asked no questions. Until that
moment he had not known that he had a turn, but if he had, he did not
propose to lose it by any foolish slip. So he settled down in his chair
and began to turn over his assignment in his mind.
That Simpkins had come over to New York was due to the conviction
of his managing editor, Mr. Naylor, that a certain feature which had
been shaping up in his head would possess a peculiar interest if it could
be "led" with a few remarks by Mrs. Athelstone. Though her husband,
the Rev. Alfred W.R. Athelstone, was a Church of England clergyman,
whose interest in Egyptology had led him to accept the presidency of
the American branch of the Royal Society, she was a leader among the
Theosophists. And now that the old head of the cult was dead, it was
rumored that Mrs. Athelstone had announced the reincarnation of
Madame Blavatsky in her own person. This in itself was a good
"story," but it was not until a second rumor reached Naylor's ears that
his newspaper soul was stirred to its yellowest depths. For there was in
Boston an association known as the American Society for the
Investigation of Ancient Beliefs, which was a rival of the Royal Society
in its good work of laying bare with