The GIRL and the COLT

Auckland Star, Volume LXII, Issue 118, 21 May 1931, Page 20

The GIRL and the COLT

By ELINOR MORDAUNT Authoress of "Father and Daughter," etc,

• CHAPTER XXVI. "When Thieves Fall Out." After mounting Williams' fat old mare , Terence O'Sullivan turned her in the direction of Newbury. He was heartbroken at the thought of what might happen to Flashlight. He rode for what seemed like miles, making inquiries of everyone he met, cutting ..down the side roads to out-of-the-way hamlets and cottages; across fields to lonely farms. Of course there were a hundred and one directions in which Flashlight might have disappeared; a hundred and one accidents which might have happened. As the darkness gathered he thought to himself that one of the other boys might, have found the colt and that he might already be safe back in his box at Melville Hall. For all that something prevented him from iriving up the search. It was quite dark when he came to a space where four roads met. There was a signpost in the middle, ami as lie approached it —so that he might strike & match and see what was written on it the mare started; pricked her ears, drew back a little, and neighed. There was a faint neigh in response and 4 uite suddenly, to his wild delight, he satf the dark form of a horse which he knew to be Flashlight, not 20 paces away at the edge of the road to the left - n - V V Afraid of frightening him he dismounted and approached him gently; talking to him all the while. But there was no fear of the colt running away, though he might have injured 'himself by struggling, for he must have- jumped the hedge, and the reins were twisted tighly round a stout stake. The mare seemed ready enough to stand, and leaving her Terence approached. his beloved thoroughbred. • "Flashlight! Flashlight old boy. He -whistled softly as he untwisted the reins which were so tight that the colt's head had been held almost into- the

hedge. Flashlight moved" stiffly and wearily, but to his owner's great relief he did not seem, to have damaged himself. Terence mounted the mare, and leading Flashlight, they moved slowly along the road towards Newbury in the opposite direction to Melville Hall. He did not know what he was going to do. but he was certain that he was not going to take the horse back there. Just inside the town he passed a very respectable looking, quiet inn with what looked like fine stables. Terence's mind was quite made up. He went back to the inn and called loudly for an ostler. He was no longer the stable lad, Mike O'Brien, but a gentleman with money in his pockets; accustomed to give orders andiexpecting to be obeyed. _ He told the ostler to rub Flashlight down and give him a warm bran mash. He himself saw that he was led into a warm loose box, and more straw was brought for his bedding. "I was going to entrain the horse for Reading, missed my train, and left it too late," said Terence to the landlord. "I'll leave him here with you to-night. Be very careful of him, lie's a valuable, thoroughbred. I shall go for the night to some friends and come back tomorrow morning. Better get one of the men to sleep in the stables, I don t want anything to happen." He went into the house, had a glass of beer, and changed a five-pound note which he- had in his waistcoat pocket. Then, after visiting Flashlight once more, he started to ride back to the Mel-ville-Hall stables. As he entered the yard, »the man who had been second to Williams, arid was now first —for Williams had been dismissed, and had departed vowing vengeance against his late employer —ran out with a lantern. "That you, Mike? I thought you were : never coming back!" "I like that, after all I've done," complained the new lad, dismounting. in a stiff, sulky sort of manner. "Seen' anything .of the horse ?" "Does it look like it?" "Well, with the-time you've been an' a jl » "I'd the devil of a ride,"' grunted Terence, "all the way to Newbury, and up every side road I came to." "Nothing doing?" "Ugh,-what do you think?" "There'll be the devil of a row!"

"Well, I've done my best—l should think someone else could see to this old 6lug for me. Thought I'd never get her back. . . . No tea, no anything; a nice beginning for a new place." Bilton, the second man, called for one of the boys to take the mare: "The boss is in a fine taking, I can tell you," he said. "He went down and saw Fisher just as the ambulance come to take him to the hospital, cursed him up an' down, broken leg &n' all.", "Where's Williams?" "Gone down to stay at the Four Feathers. A pretty to do there.ll be over this, unless the boss stops his mouth." "What for?" "Well they say as how the bart has no more right ter that there colt than I have. The talk of the place, that , is," answered Bilton, and went off to telephone up to the house to tell Sir Oscar that the new boy was back, but without the horse. He also suggested, wishing to ingratiate himself, a notice being put in the local paper, leaflets got out, lads sent round early next morning to all the neighbouring villages. Next day, after the riding work, when he bad finished with Back Chat, the new lad without so much as asking for leave, for there was no one in authority, I

Sir Oscar not having put in an appear- I ance—declared his intention of s over , to Newbury to fetch some of his ( things that he had left there upon his,- i arrival. A likely enough story, as he 1 had brought nothing but a bundle with him. In Newbury lie got the innkeeper to lend him the ostler, who had seen to Flashlight, and who, ho found out, had been in a well-known racing stable, and told him to ride the horse slowly over +o Reading. He then wired to Taunton see that Flashlight was met and kept nart from the others, secure from obrvation. There was no. need for him +01l his trainer, to be careful of him 1-neW him to well for that, though 116 Allowed- up the wire with a long he f oll he revealed practically le tter '|,, instructing Taunton upon everytlvuio > . 11()W tlie horse's name to no accent •be made p u Qj I ' av j e3 wood was concerned So ? ar f S imaeine there would be any

But if there was he had the proof of his ownership in the colt's pedigree. ' Meanwhile there was no word of his disappearance in the local papers, and no notice displayed. Terence was back at Melville Hall, stables in good time for all the evening work, but Sir Oscar did not appear. That evening Terence went down to the Four Feathers, though it was against all rules for the lads to enter a public house. He went in by the private door and. found Carey and his wife, who could talk of nothing apart from the disappearance of Flashlight, almost on the point of tears with anxiety. He longed to tell them of the safety of the colt, but realised that it was wiser for him to hold his tongue for the time being; he allowed Carey to put the whole thing down to some cross dealing between the baronet and iiis head man. Williams, it seemed, had been talking of how much he knew, swearing that he would expose Sir Oscar. As for Terence, he wrote a letter to Mr. Herbert, his solicitor, and' told him to send twenty pound notes anonymously to the* stable lad who was lying in Oxford Infirmary; and whom, it now appeared, had been thrown from Flashlight. Never, so far as Terence O'Sullivan was concerned, had any leg been broken to so good an end.

CHAPTER XXVII. The Race in the Night. During the day following upon the loss of Flashlight, Charleswood liung about his own house waiting for news which never came. u By "his orders lads were sent out in every direction fully instructed as to the discreet inquiries to, be made; but all with no sort of success. At ten o'clock that evening, however, a telephone call came through to him from Miss Hunter's nursing home. Miss Hunter's voice came aver the wire ' clear and deliberate; but for all that shaken out of its usual cold indifference. "Sir Oscar Charleswood—Hta& /you speaking Sir Oscar. Oh, I to fet you. I rang up your club. Where are you? Where are you speaking from?" "I'm'at home--down in the country — what is it?" "Oh, in the country. I had hoped you were in London." "Why?— Why?" "We're very anxious about Miss Blakeney." "What's that—what the devil's hap-pened-now? Worse is. she?" "No, missing—disappeared. We're-— : " But what more Miss Hunter had. to say remained unheard, by Charleswood at least. He had already clapped the received back upon its hook, and turning round shouted to his butler to go out to the garage at once and -tell his chauffeur to get out the him to see that there was enough petrol to take them to London; and be round to the door within ten minutes. And precisely eleven minutes later £he baronet left the house. That night, when Sir Oscar Charleswood's car went rushing through the village of Downlands, Terence was in the private parlour of The t Four Feathers, talking to Carey, who went to the door 'at the sound. • "It's Sir Oscar's car," he called back. In an instant Terence was on his feet and, peering over the innkeeper's shoulder, saw the tail light vanishing in the direction of Newbury and Lon-

don. • "You've got a motor, Carey? "Yes." The otlier man stared. "Is it all right?" } "Yes, a racing Alvis, this season s. A gentleman who came down to see the horses hereabouts were always wanting something of the sort; an' like all them gents, with nothing to do, in a devil of a hurry. But it ain't done much woi k, is as good as new." "Who drives it?" "Well, I do, generally speaking. I— "Are you game, Carey ?" "What, sir?" The word of respect sprung to the innkeeper's lips at the young man's tone. , "To drive to London to-night?" "Yes, sir. But I must tell the missus." "All right, give me the key of the garage. Plenty of petrol, I suppose. Three minutes, eli?" . j Three minutes, no more, and Careys car slid out of the gate of The Four Feathers, and turning sharply, started off along the road to London, in pursuit j of Sir Oscar Charleswood. . It was an amazing race. Sometimes they seemed to gain, sometimes to lose so hopelessly that the very idea of the one car overtaking the other, before it was l#st in the labyrinth of outer London, * seemed hopeless. A few . miles out from Downlands. Terence,, who had by this time taken the wheel, heard a hissing sound. One of the tyres had gone and the wheel had to be replaced. This seemed to be, the end of everything. By the time they started again there was no sight or sound of Sir Oscar Cliarleswood's car before tliem on the empty road. . All' the same Terence had no idea or giving up. They were making such speed tuat they were almost upon the other ear— which had come to grief at the side of the road in front of tliem —before they had realised it. They were obliged to turn off quickly and run down a small by road to avoid it. From here Terence slipped out, and creeping across a corner of a field, crawled into a dicch iat the edge of the road, and peepiug through the hedge he saw the chauffeur ! with the bonnet up, heard Charleswood, I who was leaning out of the window cursing him.

There was a strong smell of petrol in the air, and Terence imagined thut something might have gone wrong with the carburettor. In. another ten imnutes, however, the. chauffeur mounted to his place, and Terence; ran back to Carey s car. . . ... . ■ The chase began again. It was an equal race now, however; more than equal, for Terence O'Sullivan's whole heart in making the pace. (To .be . continued daily.)