THE LORRY LADY

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 66, Issue 58, 18 December 1945, Page 6

THE LORRY LADY

5 5 | Serial Stof-y: |

| (Copyright).

% BY EARDLEY feESWICK. |

CHAPTEft XIII.

THE HOLE IN THE GROUND

It seemed to take them only a few minutes to And the jack and return with it to the hillside. They carried it first to the tent, where Carrow collected spade and pick, and from thence to the hillside where the big flat stone seemed to lie in sullen obstinacy under the night sky. There was no wind, and the silence was broken only by the faint sounds of their own movements as they placed the jack in position at the point where Madie had dug aside the turf a week before. Then there came the regular click click of the rack as the stone slowly lifted, displaying a dark orifice into which the beams of their lamp penetrated as yet unrevealingly. Presently Carrow working the jack, desisted. The stone was high enough for safety, high enough for anyone to scramble under.

He lay down and swung the lamp at arms length into the void. Its light displayed only a shallow natural floor, a wall of rough stonework, lichenous and with fungoid speckled joints, and to one side a darker shadow extending beyond the cover of the stone. “It’s over there where the newer stone work is,” he exclaimed. Unconsciously his voice had become subdued to a whisper. “I think I’ll get down and have another look at it.” He scrambled over the edge ami presently his face as he crouched below the overhanging stone looked up at her in the light of the swung lamp, reminding her irresistibly of her first glimpse of him in just that cramped position. She pushed the lamp towards him. “Hold this, I’m coming, too,” she said and kneeling backed carefully over the edge. She felt herself grasped about the waist and lifted gently. Backwards she went and down in that firm grip until her feet rested on the earth beside him. It was somehow delightful to her, to be lifted like that, so safely and 'confidently, and yet she told herself that he ought not to have done it, as if it should have been understood between them that he might not touch her. " 1 . ~ „ T . “Don’t try to stand upright,, he said unconcernedly. “That stone s almiglity hard on one's head. See, this is the newer stonework.” He went crouching into the darker shadow for a few steps and swung the light against the end wall. To her the wall looked little different from the rest and she wondered how he knew its age. “Let’s 1 have the pick for a moment.” , . „ He moved back so as to reach fot the tools that lay outside. “Now listen carefully,” he bade her. ' The head of the pick began to thud dully along the walls. Thud, thud, thud. It was monotonous, and though she listened with all her concentration she could attain the noise did not seem to vary. He had reached the remoter end before she detected a difference. “Its hollow there!” he whispered and struck again. “It’s hollow. It’s certainly hollow! she repeated foolishly. He swung the pick and struck a harder blow; and in response there came a low echoing nimble. They stated at one another—their eyes bright with excitement in the light of the lamp. “There’s a considerable space behind that,” he said out aloud. Then he sprang away from her towards the opening. There had come a sudden rapid clicking. The familiar sound of her ’jack being lowered, and lowered rapidly. It ceased and there was a scrambling noise as she hurried back with the light. The stone was perceptibly lower, too low —she realised in a flash of apprehension —to be crawled under by either of them, but the jack was still in position and Carrow was wrestling with an arm that projected from the shoulder through the low gap. He seemed to be vindictively trying to drag the arm’s owner over the edge. “If you don’t keep still, Pop, you fool,” he panted, “you'll shift that jack.” The owner of the arm ceased struggling. There was too much of him already beneath the stone for him to risk such an accident wilfully. For a moment everything was quiet, ominously quiet it seemed, only the hard breathing of the two men seemed to rasp the silence. Then Carrow spoke: “See if you can reach the handle and jack the thing up again from inside,” he instructed calmly. Madie strained her arm through the opening and her fingers touched the handle but failed to move it. Obviously it was being held against her. “Can’t shift it,” she gasped.

Carrow grunted ominously. “Try again,” was all he said. Before she did so she raised the lamp so that its light streamed through the opening. There on the other side sat Mr Sant. His thin hands grasped the handle, his furrowed face seemed tense with thought.

“I’m sorry Stone,” he murmured reflectively. “I hardly know what I shall do without you, and yet it must be clear, I think, even to your - intelligence that there is no middle course.” “Bliine, guv’nor}” gasped the little man in obvious terror. “What- d’ye mean to do?”

(To be continued.)