THE THIRD DEGREE.

Auckland Star, Volume LVI, Issue 192, 15 August 1925, Page 34

THE THIRD DEGREE.

BY K. A. J. WALLING.

Author of "The Fatal Glove," etc CHATTER X. Mr. Bairn Utters'a Warning. Fewings returned from his quest with the aense of mystery rather deepened than lightened. He returned bo late that hi* duties would not allow him to see Phyllis that night. He sent her a telephone message asking for a meeting next day, but it was not without misgiving that he went to the house to see her. He had told her of a clue. ; She would be all agog to know what it was. But the charcoal burner's story and the aequel of it were tbinga which it was impossible to discus* with Mis* Lanson — absolutely impossible. She would be eager for his news; she would be horribly disappointed. It pained him to think of her disappointment. Since he had aeen her in teara in hia office a great tenderness for her filled the heart of Fewings. He was shown to her in the study. She was eager. She met him brightly.

"The clue," ahe cried. "How did it turn outT"

She was disappointed. She saw at once the look in Fewings that told her of failure.

"Oh!" she said, with a little sigh. "I see-you do not think much of it. But tell mc about it."

This was Fewings'. ordeal. He had to pretend to tell her all while telling her nothing that really mattered. < How • could he relate to her that strange story heard in the charcoal burner's hut ? How tell her what he had learnt in a long talk with Mr. Samuel Belliver about the upbringing of a boy? How - reveal to her what had been revealed to him of the connection of Mr. Lanson with these matters?

She believed in her uncle. , Of what use—now, at any rate —to disturb that belief, since all that he could tell her would throw no real light upon the problem they had to solve, but only make it more mysterious.

These question* passed rapidly through the mind of 'Fewings aa he followed her into the drawing room. She sat down near him. and looked her anxiety.

"I thought I had a clue which would open the way for us, Mia* Lanson, but we are very little further than before." "Still, tell mc about it," she said. "I have found out one thing," he answered. "I have seen Samuel Belliver." Phyllis clapped her hands. ' "Oh," she cried, "how can you think that a small thing? The other night you built a lot on finding out Samuel Belliver." "Yea, it was reasonable to suppose that it would mean a lot, but—" "Well, who is he? Is he—Jack's father?" * "No," said Fewings, turning his eyea away, "he la a village schoolmaster on Partmoor, who is no relation whatever to Jack—that is—" "Ye*?" "No relation at all." Fewings would have felt like a cad in any case to be telling her these furtive half-truths; he felt doubly mean when he saw how she was taking it—the look of wonderment and disillusionment in her face. It was unbearable. He resolved to appeal to her confidence in him. "Miss Lanson," said he, "there are strange things here—things we two cannot talk about. Will you trust mc a little further? I have not told you all the truth—l cannot—though I have told you no lie. Will you leave it there until I can find my way further into the mystery ?" "Yes, of coure," said she. "I trust you quite. You are the only friend and adviser I have. But you must see that it is all a little bit puzzling to mc. We built such a lot on Samuel Belliver," she repeated regretfully. "He is the man who had all my uncle's money. Why did he have such a lot, and what could a country schoolmaster have done with it? Was it blackmail? What dreadful secret can there have been in my uncle's life to account for it?"

Fewings started in hi* chair, and looked at her with concern.

"Ah! You will not tell mc, Mr. Fewings! But there was some secret—some shameful secret. 1 tee "it! But I tell you," she *aid, rising as if to emphasise the words, "whatever may be found or said, I will believe no harm of my uncle. He was the soul of goodness itself!" "Miss Lanson/' said Fewings, "you have imagined these things. I am as convinced a* you that there wa* nothing shameful in the life of your uncle. But there wa* a secret. We knew that before, when we opened the cabinet. It is that secret which has to be made plain if we are to go on with the business." "UV Phyllis said, with her eyebrow* raised. "You ddn't mean that you suggest dropping it?" "No," said Fewings. "So far as I am concerned, I want to go on with it. But it is for. you to r,ay. Having got bo far, , we must face the consequences of revealing the secret, whatever it may be, if we go any further." The puzzlement in Phyllis' eyes grew as Fewings spoke. "Consequences?" she said. "Yes, consequences. When you stir a doubtful- business like this you 1 never know Vhat may come of it That's a commonplace." "You mean that Mr. Belliver—Jack— may be involved?" , "That^—and other things. It* all very dark." ; "If we go on," said Phyllis, "what do you propose to do next?" ; , "I mean to follow up this clue as far as it will take mc." "But you haven't yet told mc what the clue is." He had not. It was what he had been trying to avoid. But it was necessary to tell her something. How much? "Miss Lanson," said he, "I" told you there are things here which for various reasons I cannot discuss with you. But I can give you a little light. The Samuel Belliver I saw is, as I said, a village schoolmaster. He is a man of high character. I spent gome time with him. I think I know an honest man when I see one, and I saw an honest man at Lakeford, in Dartmoor, where I met Samuel Belliver.. As to the mystery of the. money, I can discover nothing. But there is another mystery in which we are equally interested. I think " V"You.mean?" '..'....».'.. J ■■, "I mean the whereabouts 'of Jack Belliver." Phyllis started, with a little halfsuppressed cry. Fewings, who was looking gravely at her, .sighed. "Yes. of course," she said. "And you mean that " "I mean that I think Samuel Belliver, the schoolmaster, could tell us more about that than any other person—if he chose.'/ . -•.•.. Phyllis rose from her chair with eye* sparkling and cheeks flushing.

"You mean that he knows when Jack isf Oh I" she cried, and Fewings bit hi* lip. "Yes; I came to that eoncluaion. But do not reckon on it too firmly. Miss Lanson. He knows, I think, but I do not think he is likely to tell." Phyllis, took her seat again and there' waa disappointment in her look. "Miss Lanson," said Fewings, "I am going to make a proposition which depend* entirely upon you. If you say 'No' to it, then it drops, and I shall have to wash my hands of the whole business. We want to discover the man who murdered Mr. Lanson, and we want to discover tlie secret that led to that crime. You and I are agreed that however black the evidence may look against him. Jack Belliver was not the man who did It, are we not?"

"Oh, yea," cried Phyllis, "oh, yes I He 1* incapable of it."

"And we; are also agree that, whatever the secret/In Mr. Lanson's life was, he also was incapable of anything disgraceful !"

"Oh, yes I" Phyllis cried again. "But the secret waa carefully concealed, and will take a great deal of finding out. And as to the murder, Jack Belliver ran away and would not face the music. If he was innocent, aa we suppose, why did he bolt T Why does he hide? Obviously not for any reason concerning his own conduct. Then it must be for the sake of a secret concerning somebody else which would be revealed if he were brought to trial. Is it the same eecret as Mr. Lanson's? Or • has it any connection with that secret? "There is the problem." Phyllis, who had listened with a grave and anxious face, said, "It doesn't seem easy, does it?" • ■ .

"No, indeed," Fewings replied. "And I see no way of solving it unless we can discover Jack. We must find him, Miss Lanson." '

Again he noted with a whimsically mixed feeling of disappointment and pleasure the light, that came in to her face when he spoke of Belliver.

"How? How? she asked, eagerly. "It's beyond mc," said Fewings. "Where the police have failed, with all their inducement* to success, I don't suppose I'm clever enough to succeed. But there's another way. You want a trained mind for this kind of work—a mind with a nose attached to It, so to •peak, which can smell out clues where leas sensitive organs are useless." Phyllis smiled, but the eager look remained in her eyes. "I hope," ahe said, "you do not speak of such an extraordinary natural phenomenon without knowing where to put your hand on it—if one can puti one's hand on a mind I" "Well," said Fewings, "I think .possibly I can find the man who ha* the mind. But, of course, it will mean sharing all our secrets and all our speculation* with a third person." "Who is it?" "A man who must have been wellknown to your uncle—one of the best detectives we ever had, who is now retired from official work and does business as a private Inquiry man. His name to " Fewings *topped *hort. At that moment the maid knocked at the door and entered to announce: "Mr. Baird." Mr.-Baird'followed close on her heels. Showing some little surprise, Phyllis got up and held out her hand to him. After greeting her, he came up to Fewings. "Ah, Mr. Fewings," «aid he, looking from one to the other with a quizzical •mile, "who would have expected to find you here?" Fewinga hardly knew whether to be annoyed or flattered; there waa such significance in Mr. Baird's manner. Phylli* flushed to the roots of her hair. *"Mr. Fewings," said ahe, "has been a very good friend to mc, and it's exceedingly kind of him to come and see mc." "Ah, now!" said Mr. Baird. "That's one way of looking at it, but I don't doubt Mr. Fewings has another way and regards it as an exceedingly handsome privilege to be allowed to come. Well, my dear, I'm glad to ace you are in better health, getting back to your old colour, eh?" "I'm hetter, thank you," she replied. Fewings took up his hat as though to go"Don't go," she said. "We haven't half finished our talk." Fewings hesitated. "I see," said Mr. Baird, with a smile. "I see that I'm 'de trop.' Never mind. I merely called to see how you were, my dear, and to bring my wife* remembrance*. She would like to ace a lot more of you, but " He sighed, ana the smile faded from hi* face. , ' "I don't go out much," said Phyllis. The mention of Mrs. Baird recalled ugly things, terrible things that she was always trying to forget. She did not like to tell Mr. Baird that she would never go to High-house again. But he seemed to divine her thought. I "It seems strange," said he, "to be in this room under such circumstances. This was his favourite room. I've spent many an. hour of happy talk with him in thia room." Fewings glanced at Phyllis. He felt uncomfortable with this turn of subject. "Many an hour," Mr. Baird went on, "he used to eit there at his quaint old cabinet, and turn his toes to the fire, and I would be here. In the tunimer he insisted on having the window wide open, though it only looks into a yard. By the way," said he, moving towards it, "that was the window they tried to break open, wasn't it?" "Yes," said Phyllis. "They did break it open- I —or they got through it somehow." She spoke quite calmly. Fewings was relieved to find that talking of these events with a third person did not eeem to distress her. "Ah!" eaid Mr. Baird. "I don't think our police are very clever. They have never found out anything." "No," said Phyllis. "In fact, Mr. Fewings and I were just talking about the —the case, and he was saying that it needed a trained mind to inquire into it." "Oh, yes, a trained mind " Mr. Baird glanced at Fewings, and then eeemed to muse upon the idea. "Not very complimentary to our police force," said he, with a smile, "but there may be something in the notion. What sort of mind were you thinking of, Fewings?" "The real detective mind," Fewings answered. "There's only one that I know in Westport." "I take you," said Mr. Baird. "You're thinking of Grainger, eh?" "Yes." "Who is Grainger?" Phyllis asked. "Joe Grainger," said Fewings, "is the man of parts I was describing to you just as Mr. Baird came.in. A rough diamond, Miss Lanson, but of tho first water." "You're right, Fewings," said Mr. Baird. "I don't know a man who is to be compared with Grainger for astuteness. You remember how he got through that affair of the murder of Sir Richard Fallofield out in the country ? It was

masterly. And if you want to solve the mystery of Mr. Lanson's death, and all the circumstances surrounding it, Grainger la the man to employ." "Yes," said Fewings. "I have thought so; but I'm glad to have your opinion to confirm my own." "Oh, yea; so glad!" Phyllis echoed. "Dear Mr. Baird, somehow or other you've lightened my heart. I'm ao glad you oame in." Mr. Baird looked thoughtfully at tho girl, and from her to Fewinga, and back again, without speaking for a moment or two. Phyllis regarded him anxiously and then blushed under his scrutiny. Fewings felt uneasy. "M—yes!" eaid Mr. Baird at last. "It is perhaps the best way, but——" lie hesitated and looked at Phyllis again with earnest intent. "But what?" said Fewings, with just a suspicion of impatience in hia manner. "Oh, nothing," Mr. Baird answered. "A little idea just occurred to mc. That's all. Well, young people, I must get on. I hope I interrupted nothing but the discussion about Grainger 1" He smiled from one to the other. Fewings cursed under hi* breath. Why should this man persist in misunderstanding the situation? Aloud he said: "Nothing whatever, Mr. Baird. I think it is only ;air to Miss Lanson that you should not misinterpret anything. The only reason why I am here is to help her in her very difficult position." He had risen from his chair as he spoke and taken two or three rapid paces in the little room. . "Quite so, Fewings quite so," eaid Mr. Baird, who seemed surprised. "But there's no need for any heat, I,think." , "Excuse mc if I showed impatience." Fewings sat down again. "But don't' you think between friends it would be well If you told ub what your idea was—the idea that pulled you up just now?" "Eh? Well—perhaps. I am probably very dense, my dear," said Mr. Baird, with a glance to Phyllis. "Forgive 'mc. Ye9—l'll be quite candid. .You say you have a notion of bringing in. Grainger. That was what made mc fancy there might be something between you two." "Good Lord!" exclaimed Fewings. "Mr. Baird 1" cried Phyllis. ■ "How on earth can you associate those two things?" Fewings asked. "I was wrong, of course," said Mr. Baird. ' "It was a mistaken idea, and there's no need for pursue it." "But you'll explain, won't you?" Fewings inquired, in a tone which meant "You mustl" "I should have thought," said Mr. Baird, "that it was obvious. One can hardly have forgotten that there was a certain feeling between Miss Lanson and young John Belliver, and I concluded that she must have put him out of her mind—quite right, quite rightl—and— well, there you are, you know." He ended with a shrug of his shoulders. "Pardon mc, Mr. Baird," said Fewinga, frowning desperately, "but I'm not there, nor anywhere near it. "I haven't the ghost of a notion what you're driving at." He took the situation into his own hands, and left Phyllis staring at the two of them—a very image of puzzlement. "Look here, Fewings," said Mr. Baird, i "you're far too clever a man of the world not to be able to ,6ee through this. If I can ccc it, you can. What was the natural conclusion from what' I'd seen and heard? Phyllis, my dear. I'm going to speak plainly, and if I hurt you, forgive mc. Now, Fewinga, Miss Lanson waa engaged to John Belliver. He was accused of thia crime and disappeared. I had «indjerstooQ) that Miss Lanson refused to believe him to be guilty, and was still hoping that his innocence would he established and that the engagement, to be quite brief, continued " "So it does!" eaid Phyllis. Her blush had vanished and her face was very pale. "I don't believe Jack did this, and I am still engaged to him." She atood up and looked proudly at the two men. "That has been understood all the time," said Fewings. "Well, then," said Mr. Baird, throwing out his hands, "why in heaven's name are you proposing to bring in Joe Grainger?" "And why in heaven's name not?" said Fewings, turning sharply on him. "You seem to forget some things, FewIngs," he replied. "The (first thing Grainger will do will be to find Belliver. That's perfectly certain. There are patent and even shrieking clues which a man with half an eyo can see, but the police have overlooked them. Do you think Grainger will overlook them? You know him too well, my dear fellow. And If he finds Belliver " Mr. Baird did not finish hia sentence except by a shake of the head. "Why not?" asked Fewings. "We were trying to find Belliver. I've been trying to trace Belliver. In fact, I have traces which would probably lead to his discovery." "Youl" cried Mr. Baird. "Yes. Again, why not?" "With your consent, Phyllis?" asked Mr. Baird, turning to the girl. "Oh, yes. You surely see how anxious I am to have news of him." Mr. Baird smiled sadly at her. There was pity in his eyes for both of them. "I could have understood it," said he, "if Phyllis had thrown over Belliver. But. though it's no affair of mine, liver. But, tough it's no affair of mine, I can't understand it now. If Belliver is brought back, the evidence against him is so strong that " Mr. Baird paused, and Fewinga and Phyllis looked at him anxiously. "It is so , strong that unless he has overwhelming proof of his innocence, those who bring him back will take his life in their hands." Phyllis eank back in her chair and leaned against the old bureau. Her face was white and dull as new parchment against the shining wood. "I am a magistrate," Mr. Baird went on, "and I take a great responsibility in talking like thi9. But for you, Phyllis, I should have said nothing. You will do as you think best. Now I must go. Think it over—that's all. If you do decide to probe the thing to the bottom, you couldn't have a better man than Grainger. Good-bye, both." (To be continued daily.)