CROOKED COMPANY

Auckland Star, Volume LXIV, Issue 149, 27 June 1933, Page 15

CROOKED COMPANY

By FRANCIS MARLOWE Author of "The Secret of the Sandhills," "The Sunset Express," etc,

CHAPTER XIII. Mrs. Barney entered with tlie breakfast dishes and coffee at the moment, arul Phil took the chair at the table which Doe Summers had left vacant for him. "You'll have to make a hurried meal, I'm afraid," Doc Summers remarked. "My man will have a car ready to take you to Horsham station in a few minutes and you'll only just have time then to catch the nine o'clock to Victoria." "Aren't you coming with iuc?" "No, I'll motor up later. Now I'm here I might as well see to a few things tliat want my attention." Phil took a mouthful of coffee with a speculative glance at his vis-a-vis. "Have I your word, Summers, that Miss Garrison is not in this house?" "Of course you have, my boy," Doe Summers replied, with convincing warmth. "WJiat sense would there have been in bringing you down hero just to tell you she's not here. You can look through the house if you lik."

"No, I'm quite satisfied with your word," Phil replied, and went 011 with his breakfast in silence.

Hopkins' voice at tlio door brought Phil's meal to an end.

"The car's ready, sir," was the announcement he ma;lc. lie had Phils hat and coat ready for him. Doc Summers, wiping his mouth with a table-napkin, roso to his feet with Phil and walked with him to the car.

"Don't worry about Miss Garrison, bov; "vou'll find as right as rain, lio'said as they parted at the gate. "-\nd don't forget to look mo up at my llat to-night somewhere about seven; 111 be waiting for you." "I'll bo there," Phil assured hnn, and stepped into tho Ford. His forehead wrinkled in anxious thought, Doc Summers returned to his breakfast table.

With a good car. a clear road, and London little more than an hour away, Anno Garrison had flung off her caics and fears, and was growing conscious of a sense of adventurous enjoyment of her runaway vide. Horsham was little more than two miles distant, ana sho felt confident that if she managed to get through that town unchallenged she would be free from all danger of recapture. There was tho chance, slic recogniscd, that she might have puisuers on motor cycles or in a car, who might have cut across country to Horsham by a shorter route than she had taken; if that were so, tliero was certainly trouble ahead of her, but she regarded this as such an unlikely chance that she did not allow it to worry her. Sho had resolved if she were intercepted and waylaid at Horsham that she would rouse the sleepers of that quiet littlo town with such a blar.e of screams and shrieks of Klaxon horn, as would persuade them that murder was being done iu their streets, and scare her assailants to inglorious retreat." ---But this,- or anything of this nature, she contemplated only as a last and desperate attempt to keep her liberty. She was anxious, if she could at all manage it, to get to her home in Bayswater without becoming in any way entangled with the police. She was on a straight stretch of road which she knew ended in a steepish descent to an outlying part of Horsham, when a sound came to her through the still morning air which gave her a sudden thrill of apprehension. It came from behind, but whether from sky or earth she was not quite sure. Leaning to the right, she thrust her head from the open window and glanced lccognising instantly on the road the source >f tho sound in a dark moving spot lomething less than 200 yards in the ■ear of the car. She knew it at once or a motor cycle. Instantly she .traightened at the wheel, and her foot vent harder down on tho accelerator, t might be that the following motor •yclo was in no way concerned with aer affairs, but sho intended to take 10 chances. The increasing sound of its harsh note told her that it was gaining on her despite her quickened speed, hut Horsham was now almost in sight, and sho was satisfied that if the rider was an enemy she would be safe from him in its streets.

Her speed indicator moved steadily up till jt touched 45. From the level road she plunged into the descent on Horsham's outskirts. But fast as she was moving, the pursuing motor cycle was moving still faster. A powerful machine, it had closed up on her at an amazing speed, and its harslx roar told her that it was less than a score of yards behind her. Harder still she pressed her accelerator, but the roar of the cycle incrc:-.=cd in volume, and in a panic glance which she gave as she tore down the hill she saw that it was now almost level with the car. Another moment and it was alongside, the man on it—a man with a black patch over his right eye, and a most evil face — was shouting to her, commanding her to stop. Still harder she pressed the accelerator, but could not shake off the motor cycle. AY hi to of face and with mouth obstinately set, she drove desperately on. At the foot of the hill, with a level run of about half a mile ahead of her, the idea came suddenly that the cycle rider was about to try to board the car. Running ncck-and-neck with it, he had closed in until with her right hand she could have touched him. Certain that she had divined his intention, a furious raging hate swept through her, and with a swift, viciously intent swerve, she swung the car over the crown of the road to her right. When she took a straight course again the man with the black patch was lying in a huddle against the hedge, one of his legs pinned by the screaming, fran-tically-throbbing machine.

The menace of the man on the motor cycle removed, Anne had a moment of horror. Perhaps elie had killed the man. With just strength enough left to jam on her brakes, she slumped limply over the steering wheel. The car came to a standstill, and Anne, wanting to see just what had happened to her victim, yet hardly daring to look, raised her head and glanced timorously backward. The man was stirring. He was trying to raise the heavy machine from his leg. In a gu<?t of thankfulness that she was not a nmrilcress, colour came back to Anne's face. The man had managed at last to thrust the machine from him. But then he lav still. eo still that Anne, sure that his hurt was deadly, descended from the car. With ashen face and trembling limbs she ran unsteadily back 'along the road. And then, an infetant

later, she had turned with a gasp of ] terror and was running wildly back to tho car, the man with the black patch, one arm hanging helpless, barely half a dozen yards behind, hunting her in silent implacable fury. Ho had simulated unconsciousness, until she was almost on top of him, and then, sure of surprising her, had sprung with wonderful nimbleness, to his feet and flung out an arm to grip her. But Anne had just evaded his clutdlx and had got a start of him which deadly fear had enabled her to increase. She had yet to get to the car, however; to clamber into it, to start it up, and to do this before he got his hands 011 her was a thing scarcely to be hoped for. She had still a full dozen yard to run, but before she had covered half of them she knew that the man behind had pained ground and was still gaining. Her limlxi felt leaden and numbed, her heart seemed to be in her throat, and a dizzying blindness was clouding her eyes. She reached the car, but knowing that sho was powerless to get into it, and away, when her pursuer could not be moro than a yard or so behind, she did 110 more than just catch at its open door to save herself from collapse. At once she expected to feel brutal hands gripping her, and in breathless impotence awaited tho hateful touch of them. But moments passed and nothing happened. Sho swung about slowly and saw, almost at her feet, the inert body of her enemy. The man was conscious, and glared, at her malevolently with his one eye, but he was as helpless as she had been an instant before. Obviously, he had been seriously hurt by the crash of the motor cvele and had spent his ebbing strength in an effort that had only just failed.

Anno wasted not an instant looking at him. In desperate haste she clambered into tho driving seat of the car, swung to the door, and was on her way. Less than a minute later she passed the foot of Horsham's main shopping street and, without seeing a soul on her passage through the town, ran into Dorking Road." Her luck in travelling unseen held, but she felt that she dare not tru?t it bevond Dorking. Smoke was curl in" heavenwards from the chimnevs of the cottages and houses she was iiass'in": people and vehicles would soon be 011 °the roads, and at any moment a policeman, scenting that she \\as not entitled to the chauffeur's place in such a car might challenge her. Just a few hundred yards short of the town of Dorking sho turned the car into a lane and abandoned it.

CHAPTER XIV. Doc Summers was in an unusually thoughtful mood. Stout Mrs. Barney, entering the sitting room to clear his breakfast table about half an hour after Phil had left for Horsham station, found liim in an easy chair before the lire. Though Mrs. Barney had no sense ol <milt ii" the matter of Anne Garrison s escape from the cottage she was conscious that Doc Summers might reasonably feel aggrieved because of her escape, and she hoped by self-efface-ment to avoid giving him a reminder that might arouse in him that scorchin" wrath of which she had known too many victims to bo willing to expose to it herself or her man. Doc Summers' scheming brain was trving to find a way to repair the damage done, which he considered a much more profitable way of occupying himself than in spitting out futile rancour at instruments that had failed him. He had allowed Phil to return to London because there was nothing else that lie could do. To be of any use to him at all Phil must continue in liis employment at the Central Bank; absence from his work even for a day might spoil everything. The only thing to do was to let him go and to use the day to try to strengthen the hand whose present weakness presaged a losing game. . . . ~ To get Anne Garrison again into lus power was the one way out of his difficulties that he could see. Almost eertaiulVj.ho was persuaded, Anne had made" good her escape, and most probably was at that minule in London. He must act on that assumption, at least, and plan accordingly. He had until live o'clock in tlio evening to act, for it was improbable that Anne and Phil would meet before that hour, and until they did tho situation would remain much as it was. Afterwards, anything might happen—disaster might come swiftly to him. When at length he drew forth his cigar case it was plain that, for the time being at least, he was done with his mind-searching. "Hop!" he called. Hopkins appeared on the instant. Doc Summers motioned him into the room. "When that Ford gets back—it ought to be here now unless Jim has taken it to tho village—l want you to take the first train to London," he said. "Right, Doc; I'll be ready." "Take the girl's clothes with you, Hop, and have them delivered at her house — I'll give you her address. Find out for certain if she has got home and, if she has, have the house watched, and her followed if sho leaves it." "Right, Doc." "If she hasn't reached the house have the place watched until she arrives and then see that she doesn't get away unfollowed."

"Eight, Doc." "I'll luncb licro, Hop, but shall leave to catch the 2.20 train, and from Victoria I'll go straight to Jerinyn Street. I must know, once you place her, where I can put my hand 011 the girl at any moment, so make no mistake. Keep in touch with me by 'plionc here up to two o'clock, and afterwards at the flat. Got all that?" '■'Yes, Doc; I've got you. There won't be any mistakes." "Thcre'd better not be, Hop—this time," Doc Summers said, with swift sternness. While Doc Summers was writing Anne Garrison's address for Hop's information the Ford made its appearance in the lane, and a moment or so afterwards Mrs. Barney appeared to announce that the chauffeur wished to know if he was to return it to the village. "Tell liim to wait; he'll be needed at once." "If you please, Doc—" Mrs. Barney stood hesitatingly at the door. "Yes, Nell." "He says there's no sign or news of poor Barney." "Why poor Barney? The devil looks after his own," Doc Summers scoffed callously. "Don't worry about him now, Nell; I'll talk about him presently." Mrs. Barney vanished to give her message to the chauffeur, with Hopkins in her wake to make ready for his departure.

Left alone, Doc Summers paced thoughtfully back and forwards, from the door to the fireplace of the sittingroom. When presently Hopkins appeared outside the house he paused in front of tho window and watched him make his way through the gate to the waiting Ford. He noticed that Hopkins did not immediately get into the car, but stood, his hand 011 its door, apparently watching something in the lane that was not in sight from the sitting room window. A moment or so later both Hopkins and the chauffeur left the car j and moved quickly in the direction in which Hop had been looking. Shifting his position so as to follow their movement Doc Summers saw that a slowly advancing country cart was their objective. and when 110 realised that, as well as its driver, the cart carricd a prone body and a motor cycle, he left the room hurriedly and made his way from the house. Mrs. Barney was before him in getting through the gate, but it did not need her sobbing cry nor Hopkins' explanation to tell liim that it was Onceved Barney who lay in the cart. * ''It's all right, Nell," Hopkins soothingly assured the sobbing woman, as she rushed to the cart. '"He's got a broken arm and a badly hurt leg, but he's nothing like dead by a long way." One-eyed Barney, his left arm in splints, and his right leg bandaged, was, as Hopkins had said, far from being dead. Before tho Ford left for Horsham he told his story, and Hopkins departed for London knowing that it was indeed Anne Garrison who had driven the car which Barney had pursued. (To be continued daily.)