THE CROOKED TRAIL

Auckland Star, Volume LV, Issue 250, 21 October 1924, Page 14

THE CROOKED TRAIL

| By SILAS K. HOCKING.

CHAPTER XXil. directly the Bench retire.! to consider what should b e done in the case of .Mark Trebiddy, the tightly -packed throng in the courthouse broke into a state of wild excitement. yhouts, cheers, handrlnpp.ng and laughter iillcd the room. JCveryoody seemed intent on making himself or herself heard. Everyone pressed round Jack to shake hands with him nnd congratulate him, and evcrytody was loud in protestations that nr-vei for a moment did he or she believe him guilty. Jack found himself in the centre of an excited and tightly-packeil jnass of people, and, as Enid was one of the lirst to reach his side, they were both in danger of being squeezed half to death. They could move neither to the r',jht. nor to the left, backward nor for- | ward. It is not often that one suffers from an excess of sympathy and goodwill on tlie part of one's neighbours but this was the experience of today. He was the hero of the hour, the man they all wanted to honour. lie would gladly have escaped by a back door and retired unseen. He wanted to be quiet, to get a chance of | restoring his frayed nerves to their normal condition. Now that the tension was over lie felt tired and weak, and the noise and confusion worried him. The police did their best to clear the room, but they might as well nave tried to clear the tide out of Poldulo Bay. Jack made no attempt to shake hands with the people; they caught both his hands and shook them, and then edged away to make room for others who were struggling to get near. Roger Trewithen found himself on the outskirts of the crowd. Not being a pushful man, the more ardent spirits elbowed him aside. He had greatly wanted to speak to Enid, to look again into her wonderful eyes, to see the smile on her lips, and the dimples in her cheeks. His main interest in Jack lay in the fact that he was Enid's brother. Enid was the star that held him like a magnet, and set all his nerves a-thrilling. Tlie love that he had beaten back and tried with all the strength of his manhood to • destroy, now surged within him like an Atlantic tide when a westerly gale is blowing. A firm grip on ills arm compelled him to look round, and he saw Everett, the cashier at the bank. "Glad to see you," Everett said cheerfully. "Come along with mc; you must he sick of all this hubbub." "I want to speak to Lawrence," Roger said plaintively. He could not explain to Everett that his only concern was to speak to Enid. "Might as well try to speak to the King," laughed Everett. '"These CorI nish people are a caution when they get I excited. Listen to them." Someone had started the Cornish national anthem, 'And Shall Trelawney Die?" And every man and woman in the room had taken it up with verve and enthusiasm. Tlie place seemed to rock with the volume of sound. "Come away," said Everett, "I want to introduce you to my wife. I am glad she is not here, or she would be singing with the best of them." "I did not know you were married," Roger said, looking in the direction of Enid. "Been*" rmVrrifed: -'two 1 '• "months, ' Come along, you must have tea' with us". My wife will be delighted to meet you." Roger was not in the least interested in Everett or his wife. He would have stayed for an hour, or a week for that matter, on the off-chance of a word with Enid, but he could not say so. He had no excuse to offer, and so reluctantly he left the room with Everett. , Later in the afternoon he mounted his bicycle and rode disconsolately back to Truro. He »lmost wished that he had never left Poldulo. He might have had a chance then. Enid had been freo. of Trebiddy for months past, and had he been living at Poldulo he might have caught her on the rebound. Li;fe was terribly perplexing. In a worldly sense he had bettered himself enormously. He was even winning distinction in a small way. His articles had won recognition far beyond the bounds of the "delectable duchy." Also, he had written a novel which was now in the hands of a Lorftlon publisher. But what was money or fame if he missed the, one thing that could make life beautiful and complete? He almOst wished that he had lied to Everett, or told him to go to the devil. He had had his chance that day, and had missed it. If he had remained in the room he would have spoken to her sooner or later, and that would have been a good beginning. Now he would have to take his chance of ever seeing her again. Meanwhile, Mark Trebiddy was behavin" like a frightened child. For the first time in his life, he saw himself within reach of the law, and it scared him out of his wits. He wanted someone to a'Jvise him, to. help him, and he knew no one to whom he could turn. He. had antagonised everybody, had put himself so completely in the wrong, liad played the fool so desperately, that there was not a friend left to whom he could look for help. "The wicked flee when no man pursueth," described his case to a nicety. Directly he found himself in the street, he rushed off to the garage when he had left his motor car, and was soon driving in the direction of Bears Hill Castle at a speed and with a recklessness that would have done credit to a lunatic. ' In strict truth, he hardly knew what he was doing or what he intended to do. To get away from Poldulo was the uppermost thought in his mind, and the further away the better. And so he drove like a madman all the way from I'oldulo to his home. Arrived there, he seared his three sisters almost out of their wits. "Why, what is tlie matter, Mark?" they asked anxiously. "What has happened ?" | "Everything." he snapped. "I've got ! to get away at once. Tell Jenkins to I pack my portmanteau and Best to get I out the big car. I must catch the next train up from Truro." "But why, Mark':" "Business, if you must know," he flung at them. "And there's no time to be wasted." He had not the courage to tell them what had happened. "They'll know soon enough," lie reflected, bitterly. "But father will be back by the last train," they reminded him. "Won't you wait and see him before you go?" "No time for that," he answered, peevishly. "The matter is pressing. Let mc have all the money you have in the house. I may need it." They did not wait to ask further questions. They knew that the Trebiddy business was passing through anxious tJmr, that their fi't'-nr wn«

worried almost out of his -nits, that he had begun to speak of the castle as I a "white elephant," and had hinted I more than once that if things didn't mend they would be on the rocks. Hence they accepted Mark's statement that it I was a pressing business matter that was calling him away, and assumed that something worse than usual had happened since he was in such a condition of scare and excitement. In less than twenty minutes Mark was on the road again. He told himI self that at Truro nobody was likely to I recognise him, and that if he could only | get us far as Plymouth before the long arm of the law could reach him lie I would be safe. ] With his usual impetuousness he had jumped at the first chance of escape that I offered. If the Poldulo police were not I already on his track he believed they j soon would be, and his immediate con--1 corn was to keep out of their clutches. What was to come after that he did : not stop to consider. j To his infinite relief no one at Truro ; appeared to notice him. At Plymouth Ihe was allowed to leave the station ! without a policeman appearing in sight, j and by eight o'clock lie was safely on I board the Boscastle. one of Trebiddy's I boats that was leaving that evening for Rio. As junior partner of the firm he was received by the officers and crew with I all respect, though why he should ' choose to travel on a slow cargo boat which had no accommodation for passengers was a question that considerably ■ puzzled both the captain and the mate. j Mark's explanation was long-winded and more or less incoherent. It left a ! good manj' questions unanswered and a good many gaps to be filled. However, j it was none of their business to pry into I his affairs. The ship was Trebiddy's, ! and if Trebiddy junior chose to travel ,£y it instead of going in a swift pasI senger steamer that was his look-out. It was not until the Boscastle began to move out of the harbour, and Mark ! saw the Eddystone Lighthouse gleaming in the distance, that.he began to breathe freely. Two hours later he stood on the deck and shook his fist at the receding land, which was quite invisible in darkness, and hissed between his teeth, I "Now, catch mc if you can." I When, later on, he tossed in his berth and courted sleep in vain, the reaotion set in. What was to happen now? Was he to be banished for ever from his home? Was he to live ill exile for the rest of his life? Was he to go in ■ fear of capture to the end of his days? A sense of unutterable loneliness stole over him, and he gave way to tears. He ! felt that he had been badly treated, that the fates had been unkind, that he was not deserving of such bitter humiliation. Only this morning he had felt so triumphant. The sweets of revenge were on his lips. He had got back his own, so he believed, and with compound interest. The man who stood in his way was utterly discpedited, and would never be able to lift up his head again. And then suddenly the tables had been turned on him. His triumph had vanished like a pricked bubble; the honey on his lips turned to gall, his scheme of revenge became a noose round his own neck. What a fool he had been! He had caught at the sword of revenge, but -by the wrong end. Why had he been so precipitate? Why had he not looked further ahead? Why had he not considI ered possibilities and contingencies? Why had he been so confident that his scheme was watertight? Why had he not foreseen that if he failed he would bring himself within reach' of the law? .., It..,had : , looked so simple from his point of view. No doubt he had been a fool,, a most egregious fool —he had blundered at every step, and now he had lost everything; lost Enid, and he had loved her; lost Audrey, and he had counted on her father's millions; lost I the respect of his fellows—and he was respected once; and most appalling of all he had lost his freedom, and had become an outcast. And all this had come about because he had chosen a crooked path instead of a straight one. Throughout most of the night he alternately sobbed and raged. He knew that he had done wrong— that he had lied, that he had perjured himself, that he had sought to defame an honest man's character; but what troubled him was that he had been found out, and that, he believed, meant imprisonment if he were caught. It was not until the light of a new day began to struggle through the porthole that he fell asleep. (To be continued daily.) "JUST TIRED." . . The Mother's Complaint. That "Just tired" reeling: Is quite different rrom the ordinary physical exhaustion which Is experienced arter strenuous (fames or hard work. It Is the slg-n of a jaded constitution, malnutrition, or lndlg-estlon. • Thousands or people sulTcr rrom It—the mother who has a household to look arter perhaps more than anybody else. When you are suffering from that wornout, "can't be bothered" reeling-, take "Maltexo." This wonderrul, nutritive tonic rood will take the load or tiredness from your back, and put the spring-s or good health under your shoes. "Maltexo" Is not a medicine, but an aid to Nature. It Is the concentrated essence of malted barley, and tho linost corrective or the internal organs. It quickly strengthens the body and builds up the constitution. For tired mothers, anaemic girls, pale youths, backward children there Is nothing better in the world. "Maltexo" Is sold by all stores or chemists, with or without Cod Liver Oil Obtainable in 7_ tins Tor ramlly use.—Ad. 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