SPEED BOAT

Auckland Star, Volume LXIV, Issue 190, 14 August 1933, Page 15

SPEED BOAT

CHAPTER X. A New Job. Tanner managed to get'to work the next day, though his shoulder inconvenienced him considerably, and the ache in his head threatened to become permanent. Fortunately his employer was not exacting, and indeed appeared to have some difficulty in finding jobs to keep him going.

The fine weather continued, but there were already definite signs of autumn in the tiny moons of faded saffron that flickered among the silver and green of the willows and began to accumulate in little drifts about their rootage. There was no sign of the return of the Aline until, on Friday evening, lie observed her tacking lazily up the creek against the tide. Presently, as the lijrlit breeze dropped they started her engine and it did him good to recognise from the steady throb that his work had proved satisfactory. Immediately he returned to the (larlands to clean Kerry's motor cycle for an hour, .after which he rode it back to Coastc. The noise of the engine brought Kerry strolling down the bank to meet him. Tanner could have found one reason for hoping their return would have been delayed over the Saturday. ITq wanted to run into Chelmsford on Saturday afternoon in search of a book or two and of as many pairs of silk stockings as his pocket would afford without being too dangerously depleted. Ho felt that he owed. Susey Cutts a generous replacement of her losses, but, at the same time, he was a little concerned with the nature of tho purchase, having no acquaintance with details of sizo and price of such merchandise, and anticipating the actual placing of his order with unnecessary bashfulness.

Kerry's concern at tho sight of his bandaged head resulted in the telling of tho whole story and an offer to assist ini tho replacement of the hosiery. The idea seemed to entertain him vastly. "We're all going into Chelmsford tomorrow, and if you like I'll get them for you."

While they were talking, Anno came out and, renewing inquiries about his head, received a very much scantier narrative, which qucerly enough avoided all reference to the part played by Miss Cutts, than had been vouchsafed to her brother. They wandered together along the Bank for about half a mile until suddenly Anne remembered a neglected errand.

"Oh dear!" she said. "I promised to get Aunt Cathy some biscuits at the shop. I wonder if we've time to get back before they close."

Kerry was sure it couldn't be done, but would not mind knocking at the closed door. They would be sure to oblige. Ho seemed anxious that they should leave it to him, and in the end Anne, with what seemed to Tanner a ridiculous reluctance, consented. He walked off briskly and the two resumed their stroll in the opposite direction.

.""Kerry;. likes.calling at the shop," reAnne as he disappeared. "He makes eyes at the daughter there. She's rather nice looking. I wonder what Aunt Cathy will say when he turns up with biscuits."

"Why, do you mean to say she doesn't really want them?" asked the ingenuous Tanner, but beyond an equivocal mocking glance he received no answer. They had walked quite a long way before he had so far thought things out to take with an absurd hesitancy, a light, almost fearful grasp of Anne's arm above the elbow. She at once began to talk again, casually, as if to reassure them both that there was nothing out of the ordinary in their new closeness.

For want of something better the talk was about the Bycwater and Sir Gerald's interest in it. She gave away a good deal of that great man's doubtless private business, explaining how he owned the land on this north bank very nearly to the sea, and how he had a great scheme for developing a yachting centre there to rival Burnham. Tanner did not pay as much attention as the news warranted. As long as it was her voice speaking, the subject mattered little to him. And so they walked on in the dusk, talking lightly, until the marshes became shadowy plains and the creek a black gulf of whispering water, and Tanner's fingers tightened impressively about the smooth skin of her forearm and, venturing downward, [grasped her own fingers in a clinging, innocently passionate contact. "It's time to go back," she said softly. They paused for a while before turning. "Did Kerry tell you we were going away on Sunday?" she asked. Tanner knew that something terrible had been said, something that would make him miserable the moment he left her, but for the present he could only feel an intense happiness in her presence. The' throat of the future only emphasised the glory of the moment. "Oh, Anne!" he said, and then he kissed her. She promised to see him again before the yachting party left, possibly on the following evening, and he went back along the lanes to his lodgings, his thoughts a whirl of blissful anticipations. The following morning brought him a Surprise for which perhaps he ought to have been prepared. I>ate on in the shift, when a hollow feeling about his middle was beginning to warn him of the approach of knocking,-oil time, rainier brought his fat purse into the shop and stopped by each man in turn to count his wages: -He announced the hours and the amounts in a grudging, declamatory manner, as if the recipient were doing him an injury by acceptance. The revelation of the rates of pay prevailing amazed • Tanner. "Fifty-four hours, thirty-six shillings," was the commonef-t formula. At Tanner's lathe he paused to hand out an imposing-looking bunch of notes and some loose change. "Eightythree hours, five pounds three and nine," he grumbled, "an' one an' three off for .insurance." j It seemed a respectable sum—he had worked more than a week and made some overtime—and his mind being still anaesthetised bv his last night's happiness, he did not think to check the figure, but continued his work until. the gas engine wheezed out the termination of its run. It was only when he had returned to hie lodgings that he had the curiosity to calculate, his correct earnings, to discover that he had been paid at the rate of one and threepence an hour. The greyhaired old reprobate still owed him a pound and ninepenre. At that he determined that he would not work another hour for Mr. Bull Palmer. On the whole he found he would not be sorrv to leavo Fringshy Bowl, the fine weather would inevitably end, Anne was leaving, and even in fine weather the place would be unendurable now without her presence.

By FAREMAN WELLS

There remained only Miss Suscy Cutte, and lie felt that it would be just as well to deprive himself of further excuse for meeting her. He decided that lie would stay until Monday, promising himself a further interview with Mr. Palmer as soon as the yard was open. To get through the afternoon ho joined Garland in the heavy work of maunding his potato crop, a task that involved much straw and digging, and that helped to pass the heavy hours before he could again sec Anne. After tea, he sat alone in the little kitchen smoking a cigarette and wondering how long it would be before he heard the sound of Kerry's exhaust along the lanes, for. the boy had promised to drop in with his purchase of hosiery as soon as the party returned from Chelmsford. He had reached the stage of speculating, not without a certain titillation at the prospect, on his manner of conveying the offering, when his thoughts were diverted by a little fluttering scuffle at the door. At first he was too absorbed to take much notice, and when at length he did glance towards the door and observed a'square white envelope on the mat, he imagined that it must be some circular intended for the Garlands, who at that moment were jointly enframed on their weekly shopping expedition. The thing, he decided, would wait for their return. Then it occurred to him that it was already too late for the postman and that the missive did not look like a circular. For a. moment lie wondered if it could possibly be from Anne. It was addressed to Mr. Jolin Tanner, c/o Mr. Garland, and in a strong, wellformed hand informed him that the writer had boon informed by bis employer, Mr. Palmer, that he possessed some experience with motor engines, and would be grateful if ho could make it convenient to liave a look at an engine that was giving trouble. He was afraid that the job would involve absence from home for a night, but would be happy to make things as comfortable as he could. The message concluded with a request that in the event of acceptance the writer would be waiting at the lock at nine o'clock that same evening. The signature, was clear and uncompromising —G. J. Garrison. The address was solely —Lodesey.

He wondered if it ought not to have been "No. 1, Lodesey."

Of course he could not go. He was expecting another, a last walk with Anne. So ho decided to send a message of regret by Kerry. That genial youth turned up at half-past eight with the stockings. "I'd no idea they were so expensive—so I only got three pairs. Is that all right?" Tanner said it was splendid, and asked for a pillion lift back to Coaste. Kerry was delighted to oblige, but as they were making ready a thought seemed to strike him. "Oh, by the way, Anno sent a message. She finds she won't be ablo to leave the Deckhouse to-night."

/Tanner turned his back and stared for a moment across the hedges. Then his shoulders stiffened, and still without looking at the boy, he remarked strangely: "Oh, I'm sorry, naturally, but as a matter of fact, I've rather an interesting job to go to, and shouldn't have been able to stop at Coaste in any case." Ho drew the mysterious letter from his pocket and handed it to Kerry. "Gee!" cried that enthusiastic youth, "Garrison! Why that's the speedboat major! With a bit of luck you might even get the job of looking after his engines! It's the chance of a lifetime. Why wasn't I trained as a mechanic?"

The.other told him quietly to wait a moment while he got his tools and overalls. He found the enthusiasm ridiculously painful. At Coaste they stopped before the inn while Tanner delivered his parcel. He was glad to find there wero several people in the bar. Susey was serving. He walked up to her and said, "nullo, I've lirought you a little present. I'm probably leaving on Monday. Can't stop now. Got a job on." Then he hurried out, conscious of a confusion of grief and delight in Susey's eyes, of excitement at the present, struggling with all too obvious dismay at his news as her mind strove to adjust itself to the opposing implications of his crude statement. Kerry waited for him outside a <rin that ho fouml exasperating. "I'm afraid you're a terror with the girls, he remarked, as they prepared to remount. "Anne's as wild as can be about those stocking's."

"Anne?" , , , "Yes. You sec T had to get her to buy them. Couldn't quite face up to it myself. When she found the.v weren t for her, she got quite peevish." For a moment he could have strangled Kerry, though that youth, with a typically brotherly estimate of the importance of a sister's friendships, seemed not in the least to realise the havoc he had wrought. He ran his passenger straight to the lockside and peered eagerly down into the depths of the entrance. "Heis there," Tin whispered. "Good-bye, old man.' I'll be sure to drop across you somewhere. Thev'vn ?ot our address at the- post office. Cheerio!" (To be continued daily.)