THE CROOKED TRAIL

Auckland Star, Volume LV, Issue 235, 3 October 1924, Page 14

THE CROOKED TRAIL

By SILAS K. HOCKING.

PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS. ROGER TREWITHEN, clerk in a branch Bua bank at Poldulo, with a leaning to journalism, falls in love at first sight with li is ideal girl, as she stands at the 'hank rounter; a month later he saves her from bping knocked down by a runaway horse, and learns that her name is ENID LAWRENCE, the daughter of a supposedly wealthy man. His hopes and dreams are dispelled by the announcement of her engagement to MARK TREBIDDY only son of one of the richest men in the county, and, like his father, with a passion for money. Her father's bankruptcy leaves Enid and her brother JACK LAWRENCE practically paupers. AUDREY PENHALE, daughter or a (.'ornislinian, who had made a fortune in diamonds, whose acquaintance Mark made iv South Africa during a business trip there. Mark decided thai she would be v better match than Knid. CHAPTER VIT. When .lack returned that evening he found Knid -sitting on the concrete stops that led down to the beach. The sun'was still Ugh in the heavens, and in the sheltered porth the sea scarcely moved, but lay stretched out before her like a great green mirror. She had sat in the same position nearly ever since Mark Trebiddy took his departure. She had to readjust her life..to consider the future from a fresh angle. Hitherto she had made no attempt to earn her own living. She had taken it for granted Hint when Mark returned he would want to get married; and though she was by no means eager to enter the married state, and very much doubted whether she would ever love Mark ns a wife ought to love her husband, she. never entertained the thought for a moment of breaking the engagement. She had given her promise, ami would honoural.lv abide by it. As she sat looking at the sea—yet not seeing it —she was conscious of a curious sense of freedom. Mark Trebiddy had gone out of her life, and she was glad. She had not realised until now how far short Mark had always fnllen •short of her ideal. She had never been able to put her linger on any particular flaw in his character. She had blamed herself for wanting too much. Men, like women, were in the main ordinary and commonplace, and she had no right to expect anything in Mark that was not common to nil. Well, Mark had gone, and she would not have to consider him again. He could tako his money and his undistinguished self, and his common mind and his sordid views of life, and lay them at the feet of some other woman if he liked. She had done with him and was free; free to shape her life on new line, and on a larger pattern, which wns impossible while tied to him. Free to dream fresh dreams and indulge in wider visions. She wns stilt feeling a little irritated at Mark's tMbught of her. Had he known her so little? Had his conception of her been so low? That any man of her acquaintance should have dared to j offer her money ? Tho very thought of it wns humiliating beyond expression. Jack sat down by her side and pulled out his tobacco pouch and brinr. "Mark been here yet?" he questioned without looking at her. "Yes. He hasi.'t been long gone." "Fixed the date of the wedding?" "_To. There isn't to be a wedding." He stopped pushing the tobacco into his pipe and stared at her. "What?" he questioned, in a startled tone. "There isn't to be a wedding," she repeatedly, quietly. "You mean that he has thrown you over?" She nodded. "The scoundrel! I'll wring his neck when next I see him." "No, you won't, Jack. He isn't worth it," she -lulled. "But I will. And don't you make any mistake about it." "Better let him alone, dear. He's acted after his kind." "But what excuse had he?" "My poverty." "The contemptible skunk! Did he dare throw that into your teeth?" "He said I could give no quid pro quo, could bring nothing to the common Btock, and that business was so bad that lie and his father had been losing money hand over fist." "They deserve to lose it, the dirty profiteers! v They made most of their raoiiey out of the nation's need." "tiow do you know that?" "I've discovered a good many things since I have been with old Nancarrow, Imt let that pass. Did l.c really have the cheek " "He offered mc compensation," she interrupted, with a smile. ''_ mpensation *" She nodded. "But I don't understand." "He seemed afrai. that I should sue him for breach of promise, an- so offered to settle it out of court." "0 Lord! the dirty scoundrel." "He named £250 as a reasonable figure." Jack dropped his pipe on to the step, ! and let it lie for several seconds, then Inrose slcwly and picked it up. His lips were set in a hard, straight lino, his eyes blazed. He came back presently, and seated himself by her -side. "It's lucky for him, Nid," he said after a long pause, "that I wasn't here." "We'd better forget him, Jack," she said, quietly. "You may, old girl. _ hope you will. But *" "No, Jack, better not quarrel," she interrupted. "I don't mind being jilted really. I suppose, from a girl's point of view, it is rather humiliating, but think what I have escaped." "But you were in lore with the fellow ?" She smiled a little pathetically; then: "Were you ever in love. Jack ?" "Hundreds o_ times," he laughed. "I mean really in love?" j "Well, I've had symptoms once or twice," he smiled, "that seemed to indicate the distemper, but they never lasted long, never reached the eruptive stage." "What were they like?" "Oh, ..bout the same as in measles,"" he laughed. "Feverishness, loss of appetite, delusions " "Jack, you are a fraud," she protested. "I don't believe you know anything about it. Let us talk about something more sensible and important. You see, my entire outlook has been changed. I've got to consider now how to earn my own living." "You've got to consider nothing of the sort, Kid." he interrupted. "As long as 1 can earn a shilling you are welcome to half of it. At present our expenses are very light, and we can jog along quite comforta-ly."

"That's all very well, Jack, dear," she countered. "But we have to consider the future. We can't stay in this bungalow always. Besides, no ma„ wants to be burdened with a sister all the days of his life, and no sister would care to be such a burden. I've got to learn to stand on my own feet. If other girls can earn their own living, so cau I." "Granted all that, old girl," he said, lightly. "There's no immediate hurry. Just you wait a bit. Opportunity may be lurking round the corner somewhere, and may pop out unexpectedly.' 0 "I've got to go in searcli of the opportunity," she said. "And very likely mis 3 it, old dear. There's no profit in catchin. a minnow to-day if by waiting you can catch a trout to-morrow. All things come to those who wait." "That's a fool proverb, Jack. Things come to those who look for them. You got your present situation by going after it. It would never have come to you if yon had sat here on the steps staring at the sea." "But where will you look. Nid? Poldulo is not a particularly enterprising place, as you know. Would you set up a lodging-house?" "1 might do worse," she laughed, and then the subject dropped. During the next few days watched his sister with considerable- nxicty. She talked less tluin usual, she appeared to lie' absent-minded, and at times lowspirited, lie came to the conclusion that she was fretting, that she was sufTcrinmore from Mark Trcbiddy's defection than he had at first supposed, and his anger increased in consequence. lie did not mind hard knocks himself, lie had been used to them, lie had faced the horror of the trenches, he had suffered from hunger and cold and vermin, lie had endured weariness and wounds and frostbite, and could endure them again if the occasion arose. But that his sister should suffer, and suffer at the hands of a slacker like Mark Trebiddy, was more than he cnlTld bear with equanimity, lie had never been greatly enamoured of -Mark, had never understood how he had managed to keep out of the Army. While other young men had been lighting in the trenches he hod -been piling up the shekels at home, and living in the lap of luxury. Ho shrank from questioning his sister. Enid was not of those who wore their hearts on their sleeve, but it seemed evident to him that she had loved the man. There was no accounting for tastes, of course. Women were curious creatures. Mark was the last man that he wotild have chosen for her. He was too shallow, too volatile. Ho lacked greatness, either moral or intellectual. Ho was selfish and money-loving, too miserly to bo vicious, too wrapped up in his own affairs to consider other people. Enid was the opposite of all this. She was generous and high-minded, and without a mean streak in her nature. She would sacrifico herself at any time for the good of others, and was more concerned about other people's happiness than her own. Hence it was wormwood and gall to Jack that such a girl as his sister should be scorned and humiliated by a man of the typo of Mark Trebiddy. Every time he thought of it added fuel to tho firo of his anger, and he grew more and more determined that ho would punish him as he deserved. All that he wanted ivaa the opportunity, and that ho believed would come if he waited long enough Ho said nothing to Enid of what was passing through his mind. He knew she would try to dissuade him it" she got a hint of his purpose. Mark's name was never mentioned. They discussed trade aud politics and the general condition' of the world; they sometimes disenssed tho articles of V'erax, which appeared regularly in tho columns of the "County Gazette," and both agreed that he was a writer of power and distinction. Of Verax himself they had heard nothing. Ho had vanished completely out of the life of Poldulo. He had come and gone, leaving scarcely a memory behind him. Enid might have forgotten him but for those weekly articles. They reminded her constantly of the service ho had rendered her,.and. more than that, they always brought up before her a vision of his strong, rugged face. Also, lie revealed his character in his work. A man could not write so vigorously and so fearlessly unless he felt deeply. There were touches here and thero that revealed the man as in a mirror. She sometimes regretted that she did not know him better. He wa_ a man worth knowing—she had felt that from tho first. He had visions, ideals. He scorned meanness and crookedness. He loved nature and beauty, loved children and animals. All that came out quite clearly in his articles. She sometimes wished that she could write. Then she would smile at herself. Whatever her lot might be in the future, it would have to be something humbler than that. If she could earn her bread honestly that was all she could hope for. So the uneventful days crept on and grew into weeks. Opportunity did not come to her, though it came to her brother Jack. (To be continued daily.|