THE ANNEXATION SOCIETY.

Auckland Star, Volume XLVII, Issue 66, 17 March 1916, Page 8

THE ANNEXATION SOCIETY.

t (ALL EIGHTS RESERVED.)

By J. S. FLETCHER.

CHAPTER XXXVI. THE MESSAGE FUO\l KKXTOVKK. Jimtnic spent what seemed to him to bo a very long minute in staring helplessly at the tnings of immediate consequence— at the cheques, burning to grey I iragments in the lire, at Mrs. Wytiieiishawc, who had seized the transmitter of the telephone, and at Kcrayc, who had hurried across to the door and stood by it, listening. He made one or two efforts to find his tongue; when he found it, his accents were icy. : "What is the meaning of this, Scraye?" he asked. Scraye laughed, and Mrs. Wythenshawc, interrupting herself at the telephone, showed a disposition to share in his mirth. "1 say,"' repeated Jinimie, "what's it mean? And I want an answer." Scraye held up a linger. Hut he turned and, spoke in a whisper: "Jt means that you've been present at a bit of good play-acting, Trickett, which might at any moment have been transformed into a ghastly tragedy." he answered. "Thank (ioii that bullet was lired by a marksman! That nearly turned mc sick! However, it's over!" "What over?" demanded Jimmie. "Hang your mysteries! What's over? And whore's that old villain ?" "The old villain is l,y this time safely in the hands of the police,"' replied Scraye. "Those workmen — the whole gang of them!—are police, detectives, and plain clothes men. Packe's with them. The arch-villain fell into the trap beautifully, he walked out of here into their embraces." "The other man?" exclaimed Jimmie, glancing at the panelled wall from some orilice of which he had been iired at. ""What of him?" "Dan't distress yourself," replied Seraye. "They'd bag him all right before they sent for the master hand. 1 don't hear any sounds, so I suppose they've got both of them quietly." .limmie'e excited thoughts took another turn. "IJut—the place in l-ondon!" he exclaimed. "My aunt — Miss Walsdcn! What of them?" Mrs. Wythenshawc. who had been talking into the transmitter of the telephone, turned with a reassuring smile. "■Don't distress yourself about that, cither. Mr. Trickett." she said. "They're all right. You can take my word for that —they're quite safe."' "You see," said Scraye, coming away from the door, "Mrs. Wythenshawe has worked all this. She's been after this lot for months — she and my step-mother. It's a long story, but they've run 'em to earth at last. And in splendid fashion, too 1"' .limmie scowled. Then he began to growl. "How long h a ve you been in at it?" be a-sked, looking sourly at Scraye. "If you've known of it long, you might have spared mc some anxiety and some sleepless nights—by <;.u|. you might.'" "Hut I haven't known of it long." replied Seraye eagerly. "I never heard of It until that night when I went to HolgHte U>dge — and 1 didn't hear of it there, but later on when Mrs. Wythenslmwft and l-ady Scraye came, first thing in the morning and roused mc out >'f bed to tell mc, I daren't tell you. Trickett, because I'acke and I were afrnid—you're su impetuous, you know— j that you'd rush in and spoii the whole ! thing on the very eve of success." "And—your conduct this morning?"' asked Jimmie. ; "Acting, Trickett. acting!" answered Scraye. "Krobenius—though that isn't his name, of course —tried to hypnotise mc as soon as 1 came. [ obeyed orders, and professed—wlmt you saw. Hut you see. we were waiting the arrival of the supposed workmen, led by Packe. Then you came—and by George. I was frightened when that fellow'fired at you! But, as 1 say. it's over, and now " At that moment, however, the door was thrown violently open, and Packe darted into the room, followed by a tall man dressed like himself. "Scraye!" be shouted. "They're gone! Both of them!" Scraye and Mrs. Wythenshawe started; Scraye swore, and Mrs. Wythenshawe allowed herself to scream. "Gone. I say!" exclaimed Packe. "We laid tra|)s for both of 'em—the man in one place, Frobenius in another. As they dtilu t come we came down— a maTd said that the man sent her here to tell l'robenius that the workmen wanted him. As «oon as Krobenius came out of the room the man met him, led him. talking earnestly, towards the garden; then they both went off through the shrubbery. They've escaped us!" "Rut how—how?" demanded Packe. "One of the maids says they keep a car in the village," said I'aekc. "'They must have made for that." Jimmies lieart suddenly leapt at the prospect of action, lie turned to Mrs. Wythenshawe. ' "Haven't you got a fast car at the gate?" he exclaimed. "Good! Come on, Scraye—come on, you two! If that ear's i any good we'll catch 'em. Are you : armed?" he demanded of Packe, as they hurried across the lawn. "We might come to grips, you know." "Both armed," answered Packe. "We took good care of that." Jimmie bundled all three into the ear, 1 leapt to the wheel and drove headfirst ! into the little village. Two or three i men -were lounging in front of the innI where he had left his horse. He pulled I up with a jerk that nearly threw himself and his companions out of the car. "Seen anything of Dr. Frobenius?" he asked, jerking bis thumb at the house i they had just left. "You know who I mean—white-haired 'old man. With another man—younger?" I One of the loungers took his pipe out j of his mouth and spat on the ground leisurely. "1 see them two," he answered, "it might be ten. it might be eight minutes ! gone by. Seemed in a mortial hurry, I they did, surely." "But where— where?" exclaimed Jim- ; mie. The leisurely one -waved his pipe down the street. into their moty-car house they was,"' he said. "Down-a-long of the road, and " Jimmie raced off. In another minute lie had come to the half-open door of a shed which bad evidently been transformed into a garage in very recent times. The shed was empty; in the soft earth outside were signs that heavy wheels had just traversed the surface. And the detective who had jumped into Mrs. Wythenshawe's car at Packe's side, and had climbed on his scat to look round, suddenly pointed a hand to the sloping country beneath them. "There!" hesaid. "See that flash! That's them! Cutting across country by

' those lanes. Making Southampton way, safe as houses." Jinimie jumped on hie seat, and gave one quick look at the lie of the land. lie dropped back. "Sit tight, you fellows!" he said grimly. '"'You'll never come nearer breaking your necks than you're going to!" Of the wild flight of that pursuit, nightmare-like in its rush, its seeming unreality, its headlong ?orcin<* of a way through and across highways, by-ways, lanes, its twists, its turns, its speeding*, in and out of villages and hamlets, not one of the four men who took part in it could ever at any time afterwards g' v e a I coherent account. Jt seemed to .Scraye I and to Packe and to the detective that Jinimie Trickett had gone mad; he sat there at the driving-wheel as if he were part of the throbbing and leaping automobile; he took risks which no sane man would have taken; ho carried himself and his companions up to the very jaws of death a dozen times and tore them away as they were about to be snapped up; more thnn once he heard one or other of them cry out from sheer terror while he himself eat like a figure of steel, scarcely breathing. And at last the fugitives were before them, and pursued and pursuers were racing at breakneck speed down 'a long, steep lane at the bottom of which lay unfenced headlands overlooking the blue sea of the Channel. Scraye. sitting by Jimmie'a side, saw the danser that was leaping up to meet .them—leaping along with lightning speed, lie braced himself; drew a long breath, and spoke quietly: "Look well alicad. Trickett!" he said. '"The cliffs." .limmie made no reply. He bad seen. He had seen. too. that at the foot of the road down which they were rushing another road crossed at sharp angles; right or left the pursued car muet turn if "My God!" shouted Scraye suddenly. "I-ook there! They're ughting'." Packe and the detective jumped to their feet, clinging to the jumping, swaying car. In the car in front the two men had gripped each other, and wers struggling fiercely for mastery of the wheel! they were near enough now to hear shouts, groans, curses. And in another instant the end came. The fugitives flashed through a low hedge and o\er the brow of the cliff—and Jimmio jammed on his brakes with an energy that flung his companions head over heeU. and seemed likely to rip his tyres into fragments. It was some time before the four men could make their way down to the beacli to investigate the result of that headlong fall. The wrecked car made a scrapheap on the rocks: the big man who had found Jimmy in the plantation lay beside it: further oil", flung away in the two hundred feet descent, lay another still figure in the sombre garments of Dr. Frobenius. But when Jimmy and Scraye ran to it and turned it over, tbey found themselves looking at, a face which, in spite of paint and powder, was that of a young man. They looked from it to cueli other, 6taring, surmising. "God God!" cxclaimc-J Scraye: "What's the meaning ofHhist" Tacke tapped both on the shoulders, and drew their attention to the detective, who came towards them carrying •something in bis hand. He held it out with a grin sniiK and then they caw that he had picked up the white, elfisii locks which had transformed a young and striking face into the weird preecutinent of an old man. "Here's a bit of clever make-up."' he ?aid. still smiling grimly. "It strikes mc- this Dr. Frobenjus him been amusing himself with a comedy that ended iv tragedy. He " The other two pudder.ly drew his attention to the dead man. He stooped, looked down at the youthful face, and turned to his companions with a sharp exclamation. "I know this fellow!" he said. "He is a man that I had a hand in arresting three years ago—a smart rascal, too, though he got off very easily then. That'e the man without a doubt. I'd know him anywhere: I've often wondered where -he'd got to. Bless me!— what a revelation." "But. who Iβ he?" asked Paeke. The. detective laid the cleverly-con-trived wig on the dead man's brca3t. "Ah!" he said. "I couldn't say who he really is. you know. Mr. Pack. But when 1 had to do -with him, the time I'm talking of. he was Ahmed Wahba, the. Seer, and he carried on a business in New Bond Street—half-lighted rooms. Oriental draperies, queer, scented stuff burning in lamps, tacred eats and snakes about—all that sort of thing, you know, gentlemen. And . a nice Lenny he was turning then, out of a lot of silly women and fools of men who went to him. He'd a pretty talent for make-up in those days," added the'detective, reflectively, "but we happened to catch him one morning before he'd got his war-paint and his trappings fixed, lie was a smart chap—he wriggled out of that, somehow, and then we lost sight of him. Well, this is a nice go—an inter- ! esting go! And I'd like somebody who can explain it!" .limmie pointed to the headlands above , them. "Here are the only people -wlio're I likely to," he remarked. "1 thought they'd follow us." t '■ The others looked up and saw Lady Scraye and Mrs. Wythcnshawe getting out of a motor-car on the edge of the cliff. , Scraye started out to meet them, as they began to descend. . "There's no need for them to see — ' tihis." he said. "We must arrange for I the removal of their bodies." The detective pointed to some figures ! advancing at a run along the sands. "Here's help," he said. "Leave this to mc, gentlemen, and take the ladies , away." The three men went on to meet Mrs , ! Wythenshawe and Lady Scraye, and turned them back to the top -of the cliff. Dut the sharp feminine eyes had already !. eccn the evidences of the accident and 1 the two supine figures lying on the rocks, and they looked a question which Scraye made hnete to answer. "They're both dead," he eaid tersely. "The car was Hung clean over the cliffs., ' Wβ can <Io nothing down there—let jie go up to the top and see if we can find out where we are and if there is a house or hotel nc'-ir." 1 He led fihem back to the car 3, and. once on the level of the road down which ■' he and his companions had torn at that '> awful speed only a few minutes before, looked round the surrounding country. a '"There's a email town," lie said, point- * ing along the road. "Let ue walk there— " there's sure to be a hotel; I'm feeling t sick —queer, and I want come brandy t But," he paused and looked significantly >' at Mrs Wythcnehawe, "I've got a • stronger feeling than that of faintness." J lie added. "I want to know—so doe-; ', Facke, co does Trickett—who that man v was! How —for "I've had no time to ask a cither of you—how did you, where did you, come across him?" ! Mrs Wythenshawe, who had received ? the news of the catastrophe with a com-

Iposure and lack of surprise that aetoniehed her companions, made ready 3,nft'wei*. *" i "That/ , she'said, "is easily told. It explains, too, why we are here, and why we have been mixed up in this strange affair. Lady Scraye. and I came across this man and his machinations last year. The truth is, we were both hard up—we wanted to borrow money. We read an advertisement which sounded particularly promising, and in consequence of some correspondence we called at a certain office—no need to go into elaborate details—and. saw this man, who then called himself Mr. Hyacinth Mortimer. We had several interviews with him, the result was that he invited Uβ to become" members of his Annexation Society. "He must have formed a strange opinion of you," remarked Scraye caustically. "Possibly we allowed him—and encouraged him—to do so." responded Mrs. Wvthenshawe drily, and with a glaneo atLadv Scraye. "We had our own game to play—we forcsaa, being cute women. ' that here was something worth x doing—better even tlian borrowing money at sixty per : cent. We fell in with his schemes—we ; were admitted a good deal to his confidence when he assumed a false forehead and wig, painted his face, changed

his alfcfcirt, and became Dr. Frobeniue. But we never took active part in pilfering until, for:purposes of our own, we annexed the Czar's Cross."

"Oh, so you did take that!" exclaimed Scraye. "Certainly, we took that—for our own purposes," answered Mrs. Wythenshawc. "And' I sent it off to town, and afterwards personally left it at the hat-shop. Our object," she continued, "was to have the hat-chop raided while Dr. Frobenius, or one of his principal men—he employed several- I—was1 —was there. But things went wrong. The Cross was taken away to Paris sooner than I had expected; 'and on the very evening when I had meant take the detectives round —knowing that Frobenius had actually called there —that iire broke out, and the body of Madame Charles was found. So we had to go on other lines —with this result," she concluded, waving her hand towards the beach.

"You think that Frobenrue, or whatever his name was, killed Madame Charles'/" asked Packe.

"I don't know," replied Mrs. Wvthenshawe. "But I conclude this —and I'm pretty sure it's right. My opinion is that Madame Charles in London, and Monsieur Charles in Paris, when they found that there was immediate danger of revelation, both threatened exposure,

and that they were keep them silent. Thatja .»&??• *"•: lieve to be the truth." -.- v "7*:; 1;^ . "It sounds like the trith» V Scraye. "What do you —you've had most to "do^ritTr , ' affair." ~ ; ;.™':«fil'.'But Jimmie Trickett made no." •'• He had suddenly caught eight"olV??--standing in its own grounds' ledge of the cliff out a word he leaped the fence taS' headlong for the open-;door. ''^v. 7s\ Ten minutes later he itood in , . <, phone box. anxiously »waiting ■' ito his summons. It seemed- acts it came; when at last he heard known voice he almost lost-conhj,?* his own. .-• '■':* "Well, Kentover," he eaid. "' " i Kentover's voice came along fromV'off London. . ~" '•'• i "The ladies have just arrived ; rooms, sir," he said. "Quite M fc SI i well, sir. They wish to,kn^r;| "Yes?" said Jimmie,'"Vee, jeep "If you also are quite well, sirrriif tinued Kentover. . Mt, Jimmie drew a long breath, ■ a mighty effort breathed twoVords M. > I the telephone. . - ..s/TT , , I"Xever better!" he said. --' ' '- : --. ' THE END. .-■";