THE WINNERS' WORK.

Auckland Star, Volume LVIII, Issue 211, 7 September 1927, Page 18

THE WINNERS' WORK.

No. 75 COMPETITION.

OUR SERIAL STORY. Here is the second instalment of the serial. The first chapter appeared a fortnight ago:— THERE'S MANY A SLIP TWIXT THE CUP AND THE LIP. Synopsis of previous instalment: Jim White, a lad of 13, decides to lay the ghost in a half-ruined castle near Broughton village. With a suspicion that this "ghost" really cloaked the activity of smugglers, he tells his friend Tom of his intentions, and.enlists the aid of the latter. They determine to reconnoitre on the same night. Their conversation finished, the boys parted, having arranged to meet at 10 o'clock under an old oak near the ruins. At the.given time they were both under the oak. Jim was provided with a coil of rope. They conversed in low tones for a minute, and then finally decided to stretch the rope across the flagged walk between the two main arches. "If he's a ghost," said Jim, "the old chappie will sail right through it; bnt I'm thinking to myself he'll collide violently with it." This done, they skirted the ruins, and Tvere about to proceed to the opposite side, when an obnoxious smell floated to their nostrils, causing them to bury their noses in their handkerchiefs. Curious as ever, they set out to find the origin of the odour, and came to a door, around which they carefully peeped. To their surprise they saw an 'old man clothed in a long black coat and wearing a skull cap, bending over a pot on a fire in the centre of the ruins. "Feast your optics," murmured Tom. "Dashed if it isn't Old Peter." "Shut up, you ass," snapped Jim. "Why don't you yell out and ask him how he's getting on, while you're about it ? Might just as well, making that row." Slowly they withdrew. "It's Old Peter, all right. Doesn't look very silly, either." Old Peter was an old man who lived in their village, and who was supposed to be insane. He lived on others' hospitality, "on the interest of what he owed," Jim frequently said. "Well," burst out Tom, "he's certainly not mad; it's just a pose." They then hurried to the spot where they had left the rope. They were just in time to see "him of the lamp" strike the rope violentlyyand'then land on the ground in a writhing heap. To their surprise they heard the substantially human ghost swearing. "Listen," jerked out Tom, "it's Mike Riley. I'd know his brand of swearing anvwherc. ;