IT HAPPENED TWICE.

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 61, Issue 49, 7 December 1940, Page 7

IT HAPPENED TWICE.

(Copyright). I

By T. C. BRIDGES. :: J. I A Story of Mystery and Pols Oh.

CHAPTER. XIX

ago and left me his money. That gave me the chance to clear out. I came down here. To-day I go everywhere.”

MASON TAKES A HAND.

Mason chuckled. “The hno lady, eli! Well, you were always fully equipped for the part.” “\Yhat about you? You don’t look too prosperous,” observed the woman. “1 have a job. Some day I’ll be my own boss,”

Mrs Jardine came into her yellow drawing-room to find Edgar fidgeting on the hearth rug. He came forward quickly. . “I’m chucking it, Aline,” he said sharply. “That girl suspects.” Mrs Jardine’s upper lip curled slightly. “Sit down, Edgar.” Edgar obeyed, and Mrs .Jardine lit a cigarette. “What does she suspect, and how do you know anthing about it?” . “She and. Althea had a row last i night,” Edgar said. “They were in her room. I hoard it l all, Just as well I did. That pest of a girl had gone back tp Furzby Brake and found my lighter.” “Your lighter!” _ ■ “I suppose I dropped it,” said Edgar sulkily. There was scorn in Mrs Jardine’s eyes as she spoke again. “How did she. know it yas yours? Had it initials on it?” “No, but it’s the sort I’ve always used.” ' . . “It’s no proof. . . Plenty of others exist.” Edgar paused, scowling. “I shall tell Peggy she must go.” “Don’t be a fool, Edgar. Can’t you see that, if you interfere, you’ll make Althea suspicious? Besides” —she stopped a moment and a wicked smile crossed her lips—“ Besides, we can make use of her. Listen!” She leaned across and whispered in Edgar’s ear. A scared look came into his eyes. “It’s' a frightful risk,” he muttered. “Leave it to me. I’ll arrange it all, she assured him. v Still he hesitated.

* “Yon might be that to-morrow. There’s stuff in this house worth lifting.” She looked at him. “There’s an eriierald necldabe worth four thousand and they keep it in ah iron box you could open with a penknife.” For a moment Masoh was, tempted. But he had given Isobel his word never to lapse again, and he meant to keep it. At the same time lie was deeply interested in this meeting with his old associate, Lily Quinn. Knowing her ns he did, be didn’t believe a word' she had told him except that she might have married Jardiile. He did not believe Jardine had left her much, andwas certain that her present pose as country lady was only cover for some new exploit. 1 “Pour thousand’s worth thinking about.” lie told her with a grin. “Give me a lay.” Mrs Jardine told him of the old safe behind the picture in the room of the late Mrs Trelawney. “The room’s empty,” she said. “Sounds all right,” he said lightly. “Perhaps I’d better postpone my call.” At this moment both heard the front door open. Leonard wheeled. “I’ll go,” he said, in a quick whisper, and melted into the trees.

“Hooked him']” Mrs Jardine remarked to herself With quiet satisfaction.

If she had stayed’ to watch Leonard the lady Would not have b6en so sure. He waited until her heard her car move off, then walked up to the house. He rang at the front door and asked for Miss Fletcher. The maid shook her head.

“I don’t like it,” he began. “It’s perfectly easy,” she declared. “Now go home and be as nice to Althea as ever you can.” ;■ No one was more surprised than Peggy at the change which came over Edgar during the following weeks. Instead of seizing every opportunity to rush away he stayed quietly at home. He began to take interest in. the garden, he took to riding, and in the evening he played bezique with Althea. She, poor soul, was delighted. The only thing that marred her new happiness was that her headaches became more frequent. Dr. Cray tried various remedies with little effect, and at last put her on a diet. She followed the doctor’s advice faithfully, but it did not seem to do her much good. She grew thinner, and Peggy was much troubled. The possibility of poison did not escape her, and she watched. Althea’s food with the utmost care.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she replied, “but 1 Miss Fletcher is with the mistress, who is very ill. I am sure she can’see anydne at present. Will you leave a message?” Leonard handed her his parcel. “There’s a letter inside,” he said, “but tell her I am very sorry not tb see her, and .tell her, please, that 1 have to leave for London to-morrow mornihg. My name is Mason.” He walked back to The Feathers, had supper and another chat with the landlord. At ten Leonard went to bed, but a couple of hours later was out again, though certainly lio one at the inn was aware of his going. The night was still misty, but there was a moon behind thia clouds, and it was not dark. Leonard found’ his way back to Coombe Royal, and presently was in the path from which Mrs Jardine and her companion had emerged. He drifted silently down it. What he was after was some explanation of the reason why Mrs Jardine should have been in the path late in.the evening, talking to a who, Leonard was now pretty sure, was Edgar Trelawney.

She now had such a hatred for and horror of Edgar that it was a martyrdom to live in the same house with him. If she had not been so fond of Althea she would have left Coombe Royal and taken her chance of finding another job. It was torture also to Peggy to live within a couple of miles of John Arkwright. Peggy heard regularly from hgr sister. Isobel was better, but still delicate j the baby was going well, arid her husband, released early, from prison for his courage in the riotj had Work of a kind, at a garage. But without help from-Peggy, Isobel “would have been sadly pinched. Early in November, Isobel’s husband

The ground was moist, and, with the aid of a tiny torch no bigger than a fountain, pen Leonaffd tracked the lady to a shed, which, as he saw by looking through a Window, contained garden implements. It was locked, so he could not get inside without tools. In any case, it hardly seetned Worth while. Next morning Leonard drove back to London, a puzzled and anxious man

had to take a car with passengers to

<To be continued).

Plymouth,-and to drive it back, empty. Starting late in the day, Mason reached Nethercombe about four. He had a drink at the Feathers and chatted with the landlord, who was always delighted to talk to an intelligent stranger. In a short time Mason heard all about Coombe Royal, about the death of the old lady, the inquest, arid the disappearance of Miss Garland. He learned that Edgar was not popular, that his wife was almost an invalid, and that

her companion was a nice young lady but kept herself to herself.. Later, Leonard Mason strolled off toward the big house through a mild and misty dusk. He was carrying a small parcel, a jumper knitted by Isobel, which would give him an excuse to ask for “Miss Fletcher.’’ The Coombe Royal drive was bordered by trees and thick old laurels. Halfway to the house a gravelled walk.tunned to the right and led to the kitchen garden. Mason, walking silently, for his shoes were rUbber-soled, heard two people talking in low voices, and some instinct developed during his wayward past caused him to halt. What he could hear told him that one was a man and the other a woman. Almost at once the man came out of this side path ’ and Walked toward the house, carrying something. . . With the caution of his old profes-

sion he stepped on to the grass verge and waited. Another minute and the woman appeared and went toward the gate. Something in her figure and way of walking was familiar to Mason. He waited until she was close then stepped off the grass. She stopped short.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” she demanded. Mason laughed. “Might ask you the same question, Lil,” he replied. MRS JARDINE’S PROFESSION. He saw her start. She came closer and stared at him. “Leonard Mason,” she said slowly. “I thought you were doing time.” “So I did, but I had a bit of luck and they let me out.” “Come to think of it, I read about that. What brings you here?” she questioned quickly. “One of the maids is a relative of mine. I came to see her.” The other gave a short a laugh. “You always had an answer, Leonard.” *“But this one happens t‘o be the truth,” Leonard told her coolly. “And that’s more than you’d tell me.” “You’re wrong.” She paused a moment. “I’d hoped that down here I should never again run into any of the old gang. But as you are here I’ll have to tell you the truth or you’ll get it from someone else.” “You mean you live here?” Leonard said in a tone of extreme surprise. “I do. Leonard, you remember Gai-ry Jardine?” “That old twister/ You 1 bet I do.” “I married him. He died two years