SECOND CHANCE

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 59, Issue 45, 2 December 1938, Page 7

SECOND CHANCE

A Moving Story of a Man with a Past.

CHAPTER XIIT

CROSS-EXAMINATION

“Did you on tho twentieth day oi' December last purchase a ring? ’

“Yes.” . „ “What, did you pay for it? “One hundred and twenty pounds.” “Where did you get the money?” “I had it.” “I know that. What I asked was. Where did you get it?”

“I had saved it.” “Were you in the habit of spending such large amounts on rings or other jewellery?” “ N °.” “How much else have you saved. “The police have my pass book. There is about two hundred pounds. , “Kindly answer my question : How much else have you saved?” “About two hundred pounds; the amount in my pass-book.” * “You have no other property? No other jewels, for example?” “No.” “No emeralds, for example?” “No.” “To return for a moment to the books which were in your charge. You received six hundred pounds a year foi keeping them?” “Among other things. It was certainly part of my duty.” “And when the accountants were m the office you knew that they were being deceived, being—if I may use the phrase—led up the garden? ’ “What a curious phrase, Mr Jerome, ’ His Lordship interjected. “Yes, my lord. But I fancy the accused understands what I mean.” “I am glad he does. 1 don t. “I’ll put the question differently: You knew that the accountants were being hoodwinked?” “I knew that they had to be hoodwinked or the whole thing would come out.” “Now we are getting somewhere. You did your best, I take it. to hoodwink them?” , T “I had to! By that time, although I had not benefited to the extent of a penny, I was involved in the network of deception.” -. “You were involved in the network oi deception?”

“Yes.” “You had falsified the books? “Yes.” “You had connived at theft?” “At irregularities which I was certain would be put right.” “You really think that when Foskett had paid the Borneo cheque into his private account instead of into the credit balance of the subsidiary company, he was merely acting irregularly and not dishonestly ?” “It was dishonestly.” “It was theft?” “But I thought that he would replace it. And I knew that if I gave him away it meant ruin for him.” “So we get back to the curious position that you did these illegal and wrong acts merely out of the kindness of your heart and with no hope of gain in any form?”

■■“ Yes.” * “I want vou to answer this question carefully, Hallett. Are you of normal intelligence?” “I think so.” “You are not a fool?” “I’m beginning to wonder.” “You came to Messrs Mini ay Brothers from a financial corporation—from, in short, a. bank, I believe?” “Yes.” . ' “Would you have hidden similar irregularity on. the part of a, colleague in the bank?” . . T “In similar circumstances I think i should.” “You think you would?” “Yes. Both Foslcett and Trevitt are married men with young children.” “And you think that the fact that a man has* children—even young children —justifies him in robbing his employer?” “You twist everything 1 say! “Answer the question!” His lordship ordered. “No, I don’t. But if such a man has acted foolishly one hesitates to do anything which would ruin him, if there is a chance of his saving himself.” “If the position had been reversed, would these men have risked their position and livelihood to save you>” “I don’t know.” f “You were in a position of trust.’ “Yes.” “And you betrayed that trust? ’ “It was a case of conflicting loyalties. Loyalty to my employer and to the men I was working with.” “You falsified your accounts?” “Yes.” “That is—you betrayed your trust. “To that extent, yes.” “You heard what Mr Thomas, the accountant, who gave evidence yesterday, said?” “Yes.” . . “You do not contest his evidence: “No. It was true.” “When he pointed out the irregularity in the first place did you lie to him?” “T had to attempt to bluff him. “Again out of the kindness of vour heart? Out of your love for Trevitt and Foskett?” “Not altogether.” “What do you mean?” “By that time I was in the mess as well.” “Exactly.”

And, at this point, Mr Jerome, according to the “Daily Courier” account “resumed his seat.”

Twice Mary Donovan read that crossexamination. She could understand exactly what be went through, understand that the motives behind bis conduct were just what he had said they were.

And they had sent him to prison for it!

The page- in front of her dimmed for there were tears in her eyes.

By HOLLOWAY HORN. (Author of “George, Two Men and Mary, £tc).

(To be Continued")

Copyright.

“YOU’RE FALLING IN LOVE WITH HlM!’’ She dosed the pile of papers and dabbed her nose with her powder putt, without which, apparently, in moments of emotion, the modern woman is lost. “Thank you,” she said to the librarian. “Did you find it?’’ “Yes, thanks.” On her way back to the ’bus she had to pass the Police Station and as she did so Inspector Garrod came out. r J he constable on duty saluted him, for he was a man of consequence in the Force. He pulled up when he saw Mary. “You’re late!” he said. , “Yes. I’ve been in the library for the last hour.” “Oh? Did you find it?” “Yes. You should read it yourself, George. That poor man !” “Usually I don’t waste much pity on them,” he said. “Nine cases out of ten they get what was coming to them.” “] know. I’ve heard you before. But he’s different. AVJhat he did, was to shield somebody else.” “A good many of them say that.” “But in this case it’s true. I’ve read the cross-examination, and I know him.” “Look hefe, I’m in' a great hurry, Mary. But is Friday okay?” “Perhaps. I’m not certain.” “T shall call for you at eight o’clock, my girl.” “Right-ho. We’ll see.” “Are you going to tell him that you know?” “Noe Of course not. One day lie’ll tell me.” “You know, Mary, you mustn’t lot your natural sympathy run away with you,” he said anxiously. “That’s what people want, George. Sympathy. Understanding. If these beastly lawyers had understood him, they would never have sent him to prison.” “Perhaps not. But in any case, keep Friday open. 1 shall be at a loose end if von don’t.”

“All right!’’ she smiled and hurried

on. “You’re very late,’’ her mother greeted her when she reached home. “Yes. And hungry, as usual.” “Your aunt has been here for tea this afternoon, Mary.” “I’m glad. It must be a bit lonely for you.” “She was talking about Air Ferguson.” “Then she shouldn’t.” “Why not?” her mother asked in surprise. “Because Auntie’s talk is nearly always gossip.” “Well, for once, my dear, you’re wrong. She didn’t say anything about him that- he himself might not have heard. Now come and have the soup while it’s hot.” “It’s good soup!” smiled Mary. “What did she say about him?” “Only that although he’s been with her quite a. time she knows no more about him than the afternoon he came.” “Why should she?” “I don’t think I should like a man living in my house and know nothing about him. He; never has any letters,

even.” “That’s surely nothing to do with Auntie!” “No. But it’s odd! Usually a. man has got a mother or a sister or somebody who writes to him.” “Apparently he hasn’t. What s Auntie going to do about it? Tijvent one for him?” “Why be so cross? You don’t get snappy if I talk about ’George. He s open and above board. He’s told us about his mother and his brother in the Civil Service.” “George is all right,” said Mary. “I should think he is. Most girls would give anything to get hold of him. Why, in the local paper only this evening I see that the Chairman of the Bench congratulated him on his work.” “He’s done very well.” “Every other policeman in the town salutes him.” “Even if he’s in private clothes. That was good so.up.” “And I’ve got a chop for you. I know those mid-day meals. And I want it eaten up!” “You know, Mother, you make mo feel like a kid of six again.” “It doesn’t seem so long to me when you Were a kid of six—as you call it. And then I could make you see reason.” “Meaning you can’t now?” “Meaning just that. You’re falling in love with this man Ferguson.” “Nonsense, mother.” “I know. And George doesn’t like it.”

“Of course lie wouldn’t —if it were true.” “It is true.” “I’m sorry for him. And 1 think he needs friendship and sympathy.”

“Is he married?” Mrs Donovan shot the question at her daughter. “I don’t think so. I’ve never asked him.”

“You shouldn’t have to ask a man.” “Well, 1 haven’t,” Mary smiled. “This is a good chop,” she added. “I don’t think it’s fair! You’re playing fast and loose with George.”

“Indeed I’m not. 1 shall not marry him, and I’ve told him so. If he isn’t satisfied with being a friend he knows what he can do.” “Of course it’s your life that’s in front of you,” said Mrs Donovan, rather surprisingly. “That’s just it, mother,’’ Mary Donovan said quietly. “It’s my life that’s in front of mo.”