THE THIRD DEGREE.

Auckland Star, Volume LVI, Issue 188, 11 August 1925, Page 22

THE THIRD DEGREE.

BY It. A. J. WALLING.

Author of " The Fatal Glove," Etc. '

CHAPTER VII.— (Continued.) j That evening Fewings had not long' • been at his office when he received a telephone call. Having answered it, he summoned a messenger and told him : that he was expecting a visit from a! lady, that no one else was to be admitted, and that on no account was he to be disturbed until further orders Within half an hour Miss Lansoii was ushered in to him. I He had not seen her since the of her uncle's death. The memory of , that painful interview at Highhouse had i remained with him as a bitter thing. : It was a little strange he thought, that she should seek him now. Why? His mind flew to Belliver. Had she news of Bellivci? The instincts of his profession were striving in Fewings with the instincts of his friendship. News ' of Belliver would bo a "treat newspaper ' coup. But if he got news of Ilelliver from Miss .Luiisou ha knew that honour would prevent him using it. j The fair girl soon undeceived him. i "I came to y6u sis a friend, Mr. Few- ; ings. It is a liberty. . But 1 have so few friends. ..." j Fewings swore his determination to do anything that a friend might do for Miss Lanson. I "You were a friend of Jack's—of Mr. Belliver's " Fewings raised his eyebrows. She pronounced the name calmly. "You knew of the relations between us, for he often spoke to mc about you. Now, I am cut off from him for ever, and lam in great difficulty. I want advice—good advice from a man of the world. Old Mr. Watts is a dear, but you would hardly call him a man of the world, 1 think!"' Fewings smiled. He knew Mr. Watts. "I learnt this afternoon, Mr. Fewings," Phyllis went on, "that 1 am a penniless girl." "What!" J ' Fewings literally leapt out of his seat. "Yes, penniless. 1 had a hundred a year from my father. The capital that provided it is gone. All my uncle's fortune is gone, and his estate is in debt to the bank." "What?" cried Fewings again. He was full of incredulity as she unfolded the story to him. it was impossible, he said —grotesquely impossible. Nobody would believe V—at any rate, nobody who knew Mr. Lanson. "There's a strange mystery here," he said, "something a little beyond __ the capacity of our excellent friend Watts, Miss Lanson, if you'll let mc say so." "Yee,". said Phyllis. "I could see that. ! It's why I came to you." •■'. "You mean that you would like mc to try to explore it, to unravel it for you?" - "Of course," she answered, "I have no right to expect it, I have n5 claim on you. ' But " "But! Mies Lanson, there is nothing in the world I would like better than tho opportunity of serving you —for your own sake, and also for the sake of " Fewings stopped short and bit his lip. "There is a thing I should like to say to you," he resumed, "and I don't like to say it t I don't quite know how to say it." "I think I know what it is," said Phyllis. '-It refers to Mr. Belliver ,does it not? There is a thing I. have been wanting to ask you, too, and I have hardly known how to put the question." "Put it," said Fewings. "I am a mnn, and have no feelings to be hurt." "Well," said Phyllis, fingering the papers on the table where she sat, "the question is " this: 'What do you think about the charge against Mr. Belliver? , " "It is the same question which I had in mind to ask you," he rejoined. "I will answer it as well as I am able. I don't in the least know what to make of Belliver and the charge against him. If you had asked mc a few weeks ago whether I thought Belliver was capable of at crime, I should have told you that he a rash, hot-headed fellow with the most generous impulses, that he might be relied upon to make an ass of himself three times a week if you trod on his corns or opposed any of his Quixotic notions. But as for committing a crime of any sort, let alone a diabolical murder like this, I should have said he was quite incapable of it. But what is one .to think' in face of such clear evidence as we have, and in view of hia own astonishing conduct? A man who lias a clear conscience does not run away from the charge against him. "Oh, but Miss Lanson, this is too terrible!" he exclaimed. "You know, you asked mc." * Fewings got up from his chair and thrust his hands through his hair, and then dived them into his pockets, and then stumped about the room and manifested all the symptoms of frightful agitation. For as she spoke Phyllis Lanson, the slim little figure in black-with the pale face and the fair hair, had drooped her head upon his table, and had burst into a fit of convulsive sobbing. Fewings cursed himself under his breath for a clumsy fool. But there was nothing to bo done. Thajt storm of woe which had swept over the girl had to be allowed to pass. Fewings, looking down on her, ground his teeth. He would have liked —he had to crush tho impulse—to bend and take that slight form in his arms and kiss away those tears and soothe that racking agony. Instead he stood with his hands in his pockets and gazed at her as her fingers clasped and crumpled proof-sheets and letters. The paroxysm ceased. She looked up at him at last. "I am very silly," said she; "but I am very lonely." "Miss Lanson," said Fewings, gravely, "I think I know a little of what you feel. I ask your pardon for my stupidity. I could kick myself. But will you reckon mc your friend —prepared to do anything that a friend may do for yoii ?" "Thank you," she replied. "I don't know where else to turn. There is nobody, else who knows so well the nature of my trouble. I'll try to be brave if you will help mc. 11l try to face it all out." ■ "You are brave," said Fewjngs. "Let roe face it with you. Wff will leave the subject of Belliver now." "No!" she cried. "We cannot! At least, We cannot if you think as I do." "In what way?" "That there iriust be some connection between the terrible thing that happened last Monday and the discoveries .that Mr. .Watte, has made," "Phew!" Fewings whistled, > and sat down suddenly. "That," he said, "had ,not occurred to mc. Let mc think."

Ho took up a pencil and traced idle : lin.es on a piece of paper, as he had the habit of doing when pondering a question. '•Will you-answer mc one or two things?" he asked. "If 1 can." '•Did Watts say there was no documents whatever at the office to show what had become of these great sums of j money ?" "Yes, he said there was nothing at all except the cheques drawn to 'Self and presented to the bank." "Did Mr. Lanson ever do much business at home V ' "No. You know his simple habits. When he was not engaged in the evening he would sit with mc and I would play to him,' and often Mr. Belliver would | come and sing. Sometimes lie would say he had a note or two to write, and go into his study after he wished mc good-night. That was all." "Has Mr. Watts been through any papers at the house?" "No. All the money business was done at the office—generally. I think by Mr. Watts himself. My uncle gave mc the money I wanted either for housekeeping or for myself, and I paid all the domestic bills." ! "Have you looked over the papers at the house?" "Yes. I have the keys of his desk in the study. I have found nothing— I nothing nt 'all to throw any light on this." < Fewings 'pencil was idly biuy for a few moments. Then he ssiid: ; "1 wonder if you would think it too Into for mc to pay a vi*it io Black Tor this evening r" . j "No, of course not," said Phyllis. "But ' why?" "1 think." said Fewings. with deliberation, "it is extraordinary that no record exists of the transactions described by Watts that I can't simply believe it. Obviously there's nothing at the office. Then—" He hesitated, and Phyllis broke in: "If it exists, you mean to say it must be at Black Tor?"' "Yes —or the clue to it." Fewings rose and paced the room. "Your suggestion a minute or two ago put an idea into my head. Miss Lanson," said he. "A few minutes at Black Tor would settle it. We shall go? You have some women there, I expect ?" "Oh, yes," Phyllis replied, "things are just as usual —for the time. But if this news is true the sooner they arc altered the better." "Let us hope it is not true," said Fewings, going to the telephone. He called a taxi. Presently they were on their way to the late Mr. Lanson's house. Fewings was going through a strange phase of experience this evening. His interest as a journalist was strongly aroused; his old friendship for Belliver was involved. Since the moment when he had seen the girl abandoned to her grief and sobbing her heart out on his prosiae office table a new emotion had sprung into being. He sat silent during the few minutes of their journey. "Here we are." said Phyllis, as the car drew up. "Wllftt would you like to do?" "You'll forgive mc if I seem to be in an indecent hurry, Miss Lanson. But I should like you to take mc straight to your uncle's study. If I am right in my surmise, then it will not take long to demonstrate." The girl led the way to a small room at the back of the house. It lacked the luxury of Highhouse. It was plainly furnished, and its books were mostly works of legal reference. Fewings glanced around. "There is no safe," said he. "No. My uncle kept no safe in the house. There was really nothing here to interest the burglars much it they had got it. He kept little money at home; all his business was done through the office, as I told you." "Yes," said Fewings, "as you told mc. But not quite all, I imagine. For instance, I want to know a little more about the attempted burglary. Why was a burglary attempted at all? What happened V "He did not say very much about it. He was excited that morning, you know, it was when he read in the paper about Mr. Belliver's speech on the Quay." " Yes," said Fewings. " But what did he say?" " He said that when he came m here m the morning before breakfast he found that the window had been opened and somebody had got in and broken open his desk." "Ah!" Fewings knit his brow. "And then—did he say tnat anything had been taken?" " No—nothing had been taken. He told mc that. There was no money there." "Is this the desk?" asked Fewings, pointing to an old-fashioned writing cabinet which was the chief piece of furniture in the room. " Yes, this is it. Tho lock was burst — it was not very difficult." She lifted the front of the desk and showed him the damaged lock. "Have you examined all the papers here?" " I think so. There's nothing but private letters and odd things." Fewings looked closely at the broken lock. He stod off and eyed the desk from all points of View. Then he said: " I wonder if you have an inch-tape in the house?" Phyllis touched the bell. A maid came and was ordered tp got an inch measure. . "You think —?" said Phyllis. " I think if somebody broke open this i desk and took nothing it was probably , because he could not iind what he came to get. Indeed i what other theory is '. there?" [ The maid returned with the measure. " Now," said Fewings. apostrophising ! the dumb piece of furniture, " let's see , what you have to tell us." j He measured the desk from front to , back and from side to side, and made I notes of the measurements inside and ; out. There was one drawer that J attracted his attention. It was shorter ! than the others. He removed it, placed his hand in the aperture, and felt about. "Ah!" he exclaimed. "What is it?" cried Phyllis. He withdrew his hand, and with it a second drawer, which he placed on the flat of the desk. ' It contained a few papers and a small memorandum book. Phylis looked over ' his shoulder, watching him with some 1 excitement. ' "I thought you would have something to tell us," said he. "Now. Miss Lanaon this is a private matter. You had better - look at these things yourself." ! (To be continued daily.)