ARKHAM ADVERTISER
September 1, 1924
MINERAL FINDS IN NEW MEXICO BAFFLE BOFFINS
The Epic Adventures of Alter, Baker, Bonhofer, Jeremiah, Lake, MacNamara, and Pollack, Paranormal Investigators. Also including the strange events in New Mexico featuring Ashford, Cannon and McCloud, as well as the cases of Cannon, Doctorow & Lockwood, Private Investigators, and now including Antiques by Coleridge.
ARKHAM ADVERTISER
September 1, 1924
MINERAL FINDS IN NEW MEXICO BAFFLE BOFFINS
The three amigos eventually decided to leave the abandoned Seventh Adventist's church they'd spent Christmas Day in, and they proceeded to follow tracks from the gruesome monstrosity that stalked the ghost town of White Oaks. Ashford, Cannon and McCloud were all feeling the ill effects of a disturbed night's sleep, and the stark sunlight seemed unnaturally bright. They stabled McCloud's horse, grabbed necessary equipment, and then walked cautiously towards the Broken Toe Mine. The investigators were not the only early birds in the mountains, though: a dozen brutish-looking cattle hands were surveying a mass of destroyed mining equipment. Not a single item seemed to have avoided denting, crushing or shredding. The leader of the roughnecks stepped forward, and after a brief "howdy", he asked the three investigators what they might be up to on a fine Friday morning. The conversation was far from warm and including, but it was clear that the hoodlums were looking for whoever might have killed their companions and destroyed much precious equipment. "Whoever" soon turned out to be the Antahueca Apache, although the thugs used more derogatory language. Frank Cannon flashed his P.I. badge, and insisted that the trio were stalking a dangerous killer that had fled into the mine. Boss Martin and his gang - for this was indeed Boss Martin - paid scant attention to the investigators, as they had their eyes set on a different prize. They rode off to meet up with Sheriff Donahue while Ashford, Cannon and McCloud entered the mine with the latter taking point.
Boss Martin had warned them from straying off the main passage, as the mine was old and there were deep shafts that were difficult to spot for the unwary. The mine was indeed forbidding, and there were still remnants of the old mining operations: boxes, crates, graffiti, and the odd broken implement. Lotus Ashford did notice something out of the ordinary, though: an empty box for a Geiger counter from MIT, including a partially destroyed user's manual. Another more disturbing discovery was a pile some three or four feet across with what seemed to be decayed human remains that somehow seemed to have been molted off something else, perhaps something bigger. More pieces of rotting flesh were found as the trio proceeded, one of them still sporting a tattooed blueish heart pierced by an arrow.
A partially collapsed floor forced the three amigos to attach themselves with ropes and carefully sidestep the lightless pit. However, disaster almost struck as Lotus Ashford lost his footing and started slipping into the abyss, leaving Frank Cannon mere inches from taking the plunge together with Lotus. McCloud acted quickly, as he used the old sleepers to brace himself, and after much cursing and flailing about, they managed to get out of a truly frightful situation, but only after causing the remaining floor around the pit to collapse in a cloud of fetid dust. Unperturbed, the trio proceeded forward, hoping to find a way back through some other passage. As they reached the end of the main passage, it branched out to two narrower passageways, the right at an acute angle downwards, and the left one straight and level. Ashford turned around, and he shuddered as the light from the entrance of the mine was blotted out for a fraction of a second. Was there someone between the investigators and the mine entrance or was his mind playing him tricks?
As McCloud proceeded down the left passageway, it split up again. McCloud first shone his lantern to the right, but it was when he turned to his left that he saw a new form of abomination. Almost surreal in its execution, this seemed to be a new amalgamation of body parts attached to each other in a most unholy fashion. The beast was wheezing like a deranged steam engine, and the enormous stitched together mouth tried to form word as slobber-like fluids dropped down the corner of the orifice: "muuuust, musst, destrooooooy...". Both McCloud and Cannon shrieked in panic, and dashed for the exit from the mine. Lotus Ashford was equally terrified, but he fired off several rounds from his revolver at the monstrosity. The rounds seemed to have effect, as ichor ran out of the horrendous wounds, but the creature proceeded to chase the investigators. With an abomination before them and a bottomless pit in front of them, the situation was dire indeed. Cannon and McCloud had cut off their ropes, and Frank Cannon was sprinting towards the exit while attempting to jump across the six- or seven-foot gap in the passage. He jumped with all of his strength, but to no avail, as his arms flailed to grab anything to hinder him from falling into the abyss. Fortunately, McCloud jumped after Cannon and after being helped up on his feet, Frank Cannon pulled out a dynamite stick from his rucksack. Meanwhile, Lotus Ashford emptied his revolver at the monstrosity, but it seemed as if the unnamable thing was preparing to jump after the investigators, stretching its rubber-like body in a gelatinous fashion. Frank Cannon fought his urge to just run out of the mine, and his trembling hands lite the fuse and threw the dynamite stick. It exploded just as the beast jumped, showering the three amigos with all kinds of body fragments and goo.
It is said that he (for we think Skin-Bob may have been manfolk, but we're not entirely sure) has been sighted around dawn or dusk, standing at the side of the road and waitin' for a ride. Skin-Bob is typically wearin' a horseman's overcoat, a scarf and a hat, and he has a voice smooth as honey. He'll really want that ride, since he wants to know you real well. Real well...
Now, Skin-Bob wants somethin' besides the ride. He'll sweet-talk you for quite some time, never removin' his garments, and you'll just see his eyes and hear that voice. Skin-Bob's eyes seem to dee-fi descriptin, an those who survived meetin' Skin-Bob always remember them eyes, but not what they really look like. After listenin' to him for a while - some folk it's hours, some say even days - he'll reveal what he really wants, and you will barely notice as that short an' razor-sharp knife of his enters your body. Some folk says it's a claw, other that he's bitin' you, but I say it's a knife, a skinner's knife. You see, Skin-Bob wants just that your skin. That's the one item he's lackin' - skin. When he jumps out of that coat, he's flayed as a deer after huntin' season, and he needs new skin, since even if he has some form of life, his skin rots, and peels, and falls off in shreds and tatters. He will seek you out for a new skin-suit, and you'll eventually be left a skinless bloody thing at the side of the road, perhaps even livin' in real pain for some time until the hurtin' really does you in.
- Eliza Hawkins, Brattleboro, Massachusetts. Recorded in 1915. Recording kept at The Brooklyn Museum, New York.
Robert Skinner was queer man, living by himself and minding his own business in a stately residence outside Worcester around the time of the Revolutionary War. He was a learned man, but some say that he also delved far into the arcane and the unwholesome, although he was more known for providing his community with many of the necessities others couldn't afford. Despite these endearing qualities, persistent rumors spoke of other things, especially strange visitors during Maundy Thursday and Walpurgis, visitors that seemed to leave unnatural footprints in the planters outside Skinner's mansion.
Robert Skinner was also a patriot, and he enlisted in the Massachusetts Militia under Colonel Wilkes as the war started. Skinner was given a captaincy in the regiment, and he attacked both Tories and the British with much ferocity during several of the early battle of the war. As rumors started spreading about his conduct, many of the New England Tories wanted to see him dead, and they eventually caught up with him outside Westfield. He was forcefully dragged out of the private library were he was temporarily residing. The Tories mocked him for his name, and decided to demonstrate their skills with the knife. Thus, Skinner was indeed flayed alive, and before succumbing to the gruesome treatment, he cursed the Tories and swore to make sure that none of the laughing miscreants were to see their next birthday. That was to be the case, and the offending Tories were said to be found in sad states of dismemberment during the week before their respective birthdays. This eventually grew into the legend of "Skin-Bob", who would hunt Tories, British and Hessians for their skin.
- E. F. Robinson. Macabre and Patriotic Tales of the Revolutionary War. Providence: Charterhouse Publishing, 1878.
...there are also indications that the legend of Skin-Bob may have its origins in Indian myth and legend that may have become part of the early colonial storytelling, perhaps as early as the mid-seventeenth century. Legends similar to the tale of Skin-Bob can be found in the lore of several Indian tribes, all the way from New England to the west and possibly as far as certain Apache and Navajo tribes in the southwestern territories of the United States, where the tales of the Skinwalker (yee naaldlooshii or yig naaldloshii) can be found. There are also similarities to the folklore surrounding the Flayed Lord in Aztec culture.
- Thomas D. Marcus. Indian Mythology. Arkham: Miskatonic University Publishing, 1911.
Ashford and Cannon drove off the reservation of the Antahueca Apache, and they eventually found a place to park for the evening. Now, the two city slickers were hardly expert outdoorsmen, and this was noted by one Bill McCloud, a native of New Mexico. He was riding a newly acquired horse, and that campfire did sure look welcoming. Greeting the New Englanders with a curt "howdy", he asked if he could join them, and it was soon decided to join forces for dinner.
McCloud had several tales to tell: Of the strange disappearance of young Eliza, the twin sister of Mildred Turner in the Santo Domingo gorge outside Silver City, a gorge that made the faithful cross themselves and the Indians to quietly mutter spells to ward off the dwellers beneath. Of the strange Mexicans in Nogales, who only stole white cows from the ranch owner "Tiny" Merritt, and emptied the cows of all of their blood. Well, Mr. McCloud himself was almost included in the Mexican blood bank before his revolver blew a path leading away from the situation. And finally of his days as a stunt man working for Samuel Goldwyn way off in Hollywood, and the gay times he had with the denizens of the silver screen.
After many a tale, the three gentlemen decided to retire on a moonlit Christmas Eve. However, their sleep was interrupted by the most panicked whinnying of McCloud's horse. Grabbing their guns, the three adventurers dashed out, but nothing was to be seen. A more thorough examination of the campsite revealed strange interlocked triangular tracks around the bus, and no tracks leading away from the vehicle. The tracks also emitted a faint but truly noxious stench. There were also scratch marks on the roof of the bus, and the gentlemen decided to mount a guard. Frank Cannon took the first shift, and he settled on the roof. With no ambient light, the stars and the Milky Way shone upon Frank Cannon on the roof of the bus, but he shuddered when he noticed what seemed to be an amorphous shadow blotting out stars and the Milky Way as it travelled eastwards. Both Ashford and Cannon slept restlessly, but McCloud remained unperturbed. Then, he hadn't experienced the unnatural horrors that Ashford and Cannon had encountered in the past.
McCloud, being between jobs, decided that he'd join the two greenhorn gentlemen, and they did not seem to mind. They decided to seek out more information in Carrizozo, a couple of miles west of their camp ground, before paying White Oaks a visit to see what all that mining talk was about. First they had another polite conversation with poor Elmer Pluckett, the railway worker who had suffered a serious mental breakdown of sorts after finding the remains of cousin Jimmy. He was provided with lunch, and although more than a little discombobulated, he told the three amigos of a man, Tom Simmons, who'd died from some strange poisoning after mining in White Oaks. Pluckett really couldn't handle a longer conversation, so the gentlemen proceeded to have lunch before visiting the town hospital, where the corpse of Simmons had been taken. The trio split up, since McCloud was not yet known to be a companion of Ashford and Cannon, so McCloud secured lunch and a bottle of tequila while the out-of-towners sat down at a table.
The Carrizozo town hospital was an unassuming building, and it was run by nurse Agatha Pettenkoffer, who was more than a little standoff-ish when dealing with Ashford and Cannon, since they were from out of town. McCloud entered a bit later, and he and his natural, care-free charm had more luck in asking for the cause of death of Tom Simmons. The autopsy protocol said poisoning, but considering the symptoms, it seemed more like radiation poisoning!
White Oaks stands out for more than being a ghost town. It was considered an "eastern" town, with none of the flat-roofed adobe buildings so characteristic for New Mexico. At one point White Oaks had as many lawyers as miners, and Billy the Kid supposedly enjoyed visiting White Oaks for bawdy cavorting. Pat Garrett, the Sheriff of Lincoln County used to spend time in White Oaks, and so did Shotgun John Collins. At its peak in the 1880s, the town had 2,500 or so inhabitants. Following the gold crash of 1907, the population dwindled to 200, and by the 1920s White Oaks is supposedly abandoned.
The three amigos finally left Carrizozo for White Oaks after buying some dynamite for, well, mining. The bus was driven at a moderate pace, enabling McCloud's horse to keep up. The road to White Oaks was very poorly kept, and they decided to park the bus after noticing several vultures circling overhead. The vultures were indeed eyeing their next macabre meal: the remains of two males, presumably ranch hands, and now quite dead, with limbs torn off and skulls shattered. They had apparently fired off many rounds of ammunition in defense with no noticeable result. It was a disconcerting sight, but the gentlemen nevertheless proceeded. They all decided to stay in the old church of the Seventh Day Adventists, and they also decided to keep guard from the steeple. It was Lotus Ashford who first spotted a looming shadow in between the houses, a shadow that moved furtively, yet quickly, from alley to alley. As it stepped out into the moonlit Main Street, Ashford shrieked in utter terror before scrambling down the ladder. The dreadful creature was enormous, perhaps as tall as ten feet, and assembled from a wide and ungodly array of human parts, and from the side of the head Ashford could see a severely mangled face. It was the face of cousin Jimmy.
Frank Cannon peeked out of the front doors to see what the raucous was all about, and he was equally terrified. He managed to fire a shotgun shell at the monstrosity, blowing off chunks of meat, but the abomination just let out a deafening howl before scampering off in the direction of the mines. McCloud's bottle of tequila definitely came in handy after this harrowing experience.
Dr. and Mrs. Spinoza
ARKHAM ADVERTISER
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Arkham Scientist Found Dead
Friday, April 3, 1925
Dr. Jacob D. Spinoza was found dead in his home this Wednesday, April 1. Dr. Spinoza may have been consumed by an extraordinary workload, although the Arkham Police Department is investigating the issue. Dr. Spinoza had a brilliant career, primarily with various Ivy League universities on the East Coast, but more recently with his Alma Mater. Miskatonic University, and more recently in the construction of the cutting-edge Topsfield power plant, that is being constructed by General Electric. He is survived by his young wife, Mrs. Diana Spinoza nee Burgess.
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Cougars win Stanley Cup
Friday, April 3, 1925
The Stanley Cup Final was played on March 30 at the Patrick Arena in Victoria, British Columbia. The Victoria Cougars (WCHL) beat the Montreal Canadiens (NHL), 6-1 for a 3-1 series win. The Cougars was celebrated in their home town on April 2.
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Violent Mob Killing
Friday, April 3, 1925
Mr. Arnold Lake of 3 Apple Lane was gunned down this morning in an exceptionally violent attack. Mr. Lake, a retired railway worker, had previously spent time in the Springfield State Penitentiary between 1917 and 1918, being sentenced for several counts of battery as well as embezzlement while conducting railroad union activism and organizing labor.
Wednesday, April 1, 1925
Tennessee governor Austin Peay passed the Butler Act on March 21, making Tennessee the first state to outlaw teaching the theory of evolution. Professor Marcus G. Lake of the Miskatonic University's Biology Department rejected the Butler Act at an animated debate about Darwinism at the university library: "It is foolish to assume that natural selection does not work. There is solid proof to be had in nature and in fossils". Professor Lake was unfortunately interrupted at this point by a what seemed to be a religious fanatic later identified as Roscoe Phelps, who made loud monkey-like noises while throwing bananas at Professor Lake. He was apprehended by the campus security staff.
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The moon was full when Frank Cannon, Lotus Ashford and Mortimer, the unnaturally skinny undertaker, walked into the Lincoln Cemetery. Mortimer pointed towards the final resting place of cousin Jimmy, and although Mortimer's dialect was unintelligible, his gestures left little to the imagination. It was hard work, but just after midnight, the coffin could be opened. By then, the Mortimer was almost uncannily excited, but that could not compare to the dreadful sight of the remains: Jimmy was missing his upper arms, a foot, and his head! Lotus recoiled in sheer horror as Frank Cannon muttered something about Manhattan alleyways and their dreadful contents on certain nights. After regaining his composure, it was decided that cousin Jimmy's remains were to be sent back to Arkham.
It was an early Tuesday morning when Cannon and Ashford finally fell asleep. They woke up before noon, and decided to have late breakfast of early lunch at the Union Hotel's splendid dining room. However, just as Lotus Ashford poured himself a steaming hot cup of coffee, a gravelly voice asked if he could join. The badge on the shirt of the middle-aged person indicated a lawman, and he introduced himself as Sheriff Jared Donahue. He informed Cannon and Ashfor4d on no uncertain terms that Lincoln, New Mexico really did not have enough space for out-of-towners, and that Cannon and Ashford had better leave the town before noon on Wednesday, which also happened to be Christmas Eve. The sheriff left, and although Frank Cannon sneered about incompetency and country bumpkins, the duo realized that it may be advisable to leave Lincoln before bad things happened.
ARKHAM ADVERTISER
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Storm Ravages Martin's Beach, Kingsport
Sunday, March 8, 1925
The spring storm of March 8 and 9 is feared to have led to the disappearance of M/S Mary P. Benjamin, a fishing vessel from Kingsport, as well as her crew of four. The captain, Jerome K. Philbin, decided to ignore warnings against leaving port during the storm, and it is assumed that the sea swallowed both the vessel and her crew. Elsewhere, several buildings in Kingsport were damaged, while Martin's Beach saw significant damage to the main pier, which also was covered by pieces of foul-smelling fish. Mr. Vernon Morrison and Ms. Johanna Glover of Martin's Beach were swept out to sea, but rescued despite the terrific storm by Mr. Jules Pollack and Ms. Moira Baker of Arkham in an astounding feat of swimming and compassion.
Gregory Goyle Carried to Final Rest
The remains of young Gregory Goyle were buried this morning in Christchurch Cemetary. His parents. Mr. and Mrs. Warburton Goyle, held a brief speech at the funeral, insisting that the "Arkham Madman" Henry Chester and any possible accomplices would be found and brought to justice. Mrs. Goyle ended the ceremony with a deeply sorrowful eulogy, stating that Gregory was " a true model for young men everywhere, and one with a bright future, one that is now extinguished". Gregory Goyle is mourned by his family and friends, and especially his older brother Stafford, and his older sister, Carmilla.
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Power Plant Construction Commences
Tuesday, March 10, 1925
Councilman Bedford Duvall has announced that the construction of a new powerplant on the Miskatonic River will commence this week, after Federal funding had been approved. A site southeast of Topsfield has been surveyed, and the location will fit the demands of both the Town Council and General Electric, the winning contractor. Chief engineer Jacob T. Spinoza expects the power plant to be ready by July this year.
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Full Throttle for New England!
Wednesday, March 18, 1925
Miskatonic Millionaire Magnate Lotus Ashford II has sponsored a Boston-Albany-Burlington-Boston motor race that will take place on Saturday, July 4. The event will showcase the prowess of the American auto industry as well as the abilities of our nation's drivers in competition with other drivers from around the world. The winner will receive what is described as a "significant cash prize".
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B&L Miners on Strike
Friday, March 20, 1925
The workers of the Barrow and Locke Mining Company have been on strike since Wednesday, when the morning shift failed to report to the mining operation in the Halliburton Hills southwest of Newburyport. Rumors claim that the strike has been caused by unsafe working conditions in and around the mine.
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Dunstan Dunford running for Mayor
Sunday, March 29
Mr. Dunstan Dunford announced yesterday that will be running for mayor of Arkham in the November elections. He will be running against the incumbent mayor, The Honorable Jonathan D. Bryce, who has served as mayor for three terms. According to influential Council Member Bedford Duvall, Dunford represents real change, and the prospects of finally bringing Arkham into a prosperous 20th century for all of its citizens.