ON THE NIGHT " —or THE NINTH-TH

Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 26, 1 February 1932, Page 15

ON THE NIGHT " —or THE NINTH-TH

BY J. R. WILMOT Author of "Zora—the Invisible," "The Monday Night Murder," "The MoOfcroft Manor Mystery," etc.

(CHAPTER Xlll.—Continued.) "This is getting a bit beyond me. feel almost afraid," gasped Dale. never imagined when I came in to eei you, old man, that it "would turn oin to be anything like this." Like what 1" asked Fordyce,* ingenu ously, with a surprised expression in his grey eyes. "Well, if Helsby's a crook and Drivers another, isn't that sufficient?" It s not enough—at least not foi me," Said the inspector, grimly. What do you intend doing?" asked Dale. "Nothing," snapped Fordyce, to Dale's amazement. But-—-but you can't stand down and let these fellows double cross us," protested Dale, indignantly. "My deaf Stanton, I want you to realise our position at Scotland Yard. ere _ not supposed to go poking our noses into things without being invited. Granted, we do many little jobs on the side, as it were, without being officially c , a L ' n > kut I'm afraid this is rather different. It looks very miich as if we'll have to wait for something to happen before we can act. Yoti must realise," no went on, seeing Dale's gesture of annoyance, "that wo haven't anything to go on. Assume, for instance, that tins Dr. Driver has, for some reason which we know nothing of, once been a medical student. He hasn't qualified, also for a reason of which We are unaware. Suppose, further, that ho is a man of considerable private means and that he is touring the South of England y motor car for his own enjoyment. He loses his way. He inquires at Craylingham rectory for guid&ncc. He finds the door ajar and the roctor within lying unconscious. He realises that here is a case in which his medical knowledge stands him in good stead. He renders expert assistance. Perhaps the Z Zrl akeS a fancy t0 him w hen once fcL + , ea,l ? s c °n6cioufeness, and, having had the circumstances mentioned to hini, ooSri im v Btay 0n until he 3lilß re * thl , , U dpar Stanton, the mere fact that your Dr. Driver is not a qualified medical practitioner does not mean that he is a crook, even though we do know that a man in whom we are interested is in the neighthewor hv r rT' f ,° r thftt mafcterthe v orthy doctor lost his way on the >ery night Inspector John Fordyce Was ragged from his comfortable-bed to investigate the mystery of a man found murdered in Epping F * rest . Th ll/on ha\e the position. Am I not right?" If you put it that way, of course " !nfv re s D vl- "?»' I'™ 1 '™ "■» !o/thl «volve°™ re "' in e lh « toddent U " factor, l "A v lfc does "°t warrant Scotland lard descending on tho quietude of Craylingham. There may be a «reat deal, Stanton, my lad, you don't understand There may be an lequally largo slice I don t cotton to myself, but there It is. Of course, jf you'd care to ask ?JS . to the Manor for a Week-end. that would be different. I'd come down as your friend and Sir John's guest. 1 lien, of course, I might poke around a little and wateh tho reactions of Helsby and the doctor to my presence. Not that even that might make anv difference, since neither knows me by sight or reputation. Yet the sudden , intrusion of a visitor sometimes lias an unsettling effect on a guilty conscience." "I'll speak to Sir John as soon as J get back," annouhced Dale eagerly. "Of course I won't mention to anyone else your official position." "That will do me very nicely, and now, if you don't mind, Stanton, I have other fish to fry and not much dripping in which to fry thein." Outside Scotland Yfird Dale stood feeling rather breathless. He tried to think whether he had told Fordyce the whole story. He was still tliihkiiig over the position as he'made his way towards tho Strand, when ho remembered that note Helsby had passed to Sybil. He halted abruptly, aiid felt suddenly icily cold. Sybil and Helsby—and he had every reason to believe that Helsby was a crook. Arid it had beSri ft threatening note too. What a fool he had been not to remember that. Ho debated for a moment as to whether he ought to return to Scotland Yard arid acquaint Fordyce of this new complication, but realising that the inspector was a busy man he decided that he would leave that matter for the moment and await Fordyce's arrival at Craylingham at the week-end, for he had no doubt but what Bix John would readily acquiesce. And it was jUst as well for Dale that lie did not turn back, otherwise lie would have missed seeing Dr. Driver strolling towards him with an air of quiet n° u " chalance. Quickly, Dale dodged into the convenient dborway of an adjacent shop and watched the man pass by without so much as a glance In Ills direction. "ICotv What is he doing down here in London, leaving the rector?" Dale asked himself, and feeling that all was not well he decided to see just what it was Dr. Driver was up to and where ho was going. Dale Stepped out from the Shelter of the shop. The chase had begun. CHAPTER XIV. The Watcher in the Marshes. About five miles from Craylingham, in a north-easterly direction, where the sandy coast-line was low to the sea, was the desert region of jen aiid marsh. Some of it had been reclaimed, but always it was a battle -with Mature—a grim, relentless battle, but in mahy places the sea was always the victor. Dotted here and there, like so many decrepit memorials to the days when d, few of the more progressive farmers had endeavoured to Wrest from the sea the jland which it had mothered for so long, | stood the old hulks of the Windmills. | Most of them Were sailrless, but their I old, black-timbered sides had contrived J to withstand the shock of the winds and the fury of the rains. | Most of these derelicts were like sentijnels marooned amid a waste of ferilarid, ; where the Water channels Were long since •obliterated by the tall reeds. In one of tlifise old hulks were two men—one a prisoner, the other a gaoler. Tile prisoner Wa3 the Rev. Thomas Baxter, vicar of Craylingham. This was the -third day of his captivity, and though he was extremely anxiotis regarding the, outcome of his abduction, he had long since abandoned all hope of leaving the place without assistance. The interior of the old mill was divided into two rooms, the floor of which Was situated some distance above the ground, or water level, and reached by a. narrow,

winding wooden stair. Mr. Baxter occupied the interior apartment; the stout door connecting the two rooms being always locked. As regards his physical well-being, he was by no means comfortless, for his custodian, who he had discovered was known merely as Joe, was a man with a considerable aptitude in the culinary arts. Each night, somewhere around 9 O'clock, he entered with a wonderfully well-cooked meal, which the rector always found quite to his liking. At first the man had been somewhat i sullen and uncommunicative, but after twenty-four hours Mr. Baxter managed to persuade him to stay for longer periods in that inner room. He had even cajoled Joe into taking his meals with him. The rector had been remarkably unsuccessful in his quest for information. Joe, it seemed, Was obeying orders, but whose orders they were Mr. Baxter had to be content not to know. "It's not a bit of use you worryin' yourself," grumbled Joe. "I has my orders, and them orders is good enough for me. You and me stay in this nasty little shack until the coast's clear. Get that?"

Mr. Baxter was not at all sure that he "got it" at all. "Do you mean the English coast, Joe?" he inquired, with a mild lift of his grey eyebrows. Joe s usually sullen and characterless face creased into what would have passed muster for a grin. "There be more coasts than where the f.rf' ' s > Mister," he conceded, humorously. But it's no use you askin' me questions. I wouldn't answer them even if I could which I can't." ' "But surely there must be some reason for this this outrage V demanded the rector. "Who's talkin' about outrage?" muttered Joe indignantly. '"Aven't I given you every attention? Waited and and foot on you like a bloomin' dook. And out of respect for your ears haven't I only cursed o' nights when I've taken meself for an airin'? Lord lumme, guv'nor, d'yer think I likes this 'ere job? The woy tho wind 'owls through the chinks fair gives me tho jimjams. Believe me, guv'nor, I'd sooner be down at my little Soho joint any old time. But as I said, orders is orders, and some of us can't pick and choose." "So you're a restaurant keeper, Joe?" smiled the rector. "Now I think that's fine. That accounts for your being such an admirable chef. But what have you been doing that you can't please yourself? Won't you tell me?" Joe looked at the rector with wide eyes. "Streuth!" he exclaimed, wiping imaginary moisture from his low forehead.' "I never reckoned on lookin' aftcr a etope jug. Who's talkin' abaht restrongs. What put that idea into your tiapper?" "Perhaps I didn't hear you correctly/' went on Mr. Baxter, smilingly. ' But I was certain you referred to a joint in Soho, wasn't it?" "Blimyl I give's it up," groaned Joe, "and if you've finished with* the chattels I'll hop along and do the washin'-up." The Rev. Thomas Baxter, for all his weight of years was not a man without courage. From the very first moment this incredible adventure began he had sarched about for a reason for it. With a tireless persistence he had asked himself why anyone should want to abduct in eo apparently senseless a fashion a harmless old man, such as he quite rightly believed himself to be. He had thought of many probable explanations, but each one of them had collapsed under the weight of reason. Ills main concern, however, was for Aline Temple, and he had many moments of acute apprehension when he thought that perhaps his forcible removal might be a prelude to some sinister attack on his niece. It was true he had many times mulled over the possibilities of escape. His prison was, however, a formidable place. It was, however, comfortably appointed as prisons went. The low camp trestle bed was generously supplied with blankets, which appeared tolerably wholesome. There was, too, a small table and a chair. High up on the farther wall was a small window, and the shining in of the sun in the early spring mornings told him that it faced the east. And always there was the intoning of the sea like an organ played eeaseldssly. How was he to attract attention of the civilised world? That was a question

that seamed to possess no answer. 'gathered that he was in the fen district, else why should this place be a disused windmill. He knew that even if he were to evade the -watchfulness of the omnipresent Joe the chances of his. finding his way to firm ground were extremely remote. With a weary sigh the rector of Cravlingham, seeking What solaec he cdtifd find in the universal philosophy of life eat down on the edge of his bed to think. (To be continued daily.)