S-O-S

Auckland Star, Volume LXV, Issue 150, 27 June 1934, Page 17

S-O-S

Author or 'The Spieler's Wei),' 'The Dream Girl,' 'Sporting Chance,' etc.

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. JAMBS THORP, a Secret Service,man, who is on the verge of si nervous breakdown, is advised by a specialist to rest for three months in the country. Shortly after the consultation lie receives two letters. One is i'rom his chum, DICK VIVIAN", a popular novelist, who is going abroad and who offers him the use of his bungalow, The Hutch, at I'lyinchurch, near the KcntJst coast. -The other coninnurciaticn is from tho head of the Dun ton gnu&f, vNiich Thorpe's department has been "up against" for some time. In this letter lie is bluntly advised to "clear nut." if lie values his life. In the face of this challenge he is reluctant to leave his work, but after a recurrence of his indisposition lie decides to accept Dick's offer. He takes up residence at The Hulch and is alone—Mrs. Pilchard, who looks after the bungalow, having gone to her home —when an S.O.S. message is .broadcast. VEXETIA DELVEY, Recording to the message, is missing from her home, hater, whilst reading .lie hears hurried footsteps outside and a knock at the door. His late caller is a girl, who asks if slit- may come in. From the broadcast description lie recognises her as Venetia Delvcy. The girl, learning of the S.O.S. message, 'admits (hat she is Venetia Delvey. and enters the house- at his invitation. She is explaining that she has sprained her tinkle when Micro is another knock, unil as she Is obviously afraid o£ something or somebody, ho takes her into another room before opening (be door. His second caller is a veritable giant of a man, attired in ecclesiastical clothing. He Introduces himse'.f as the Bishop of Wndshorough and refers to the woman Willi him as his daughter, Stella. Explaining that their car has broken down, they ask for temporary shelter. Reluctantly—for lie suspects that they are not what they pretend to he —Thorp allows them to enter. Once inside, the "bishop." throwing off his mask of geniality, produces a revolver and says that he has come for "the girl." CHAPTER IV.—(Contincd). When the three had gone on their way Jim not merely shut the door, but locked it—much to the wonderment of Mrs. Pilchard. "Why, whatever be you Join' that for, Mr. Thorp V" she questioned, "you don't think as 'ow anybody is going to break in 'ere, do you?" "Perhaps nut, Mrs. Pilchard. But you see, I live in town, and we always do that in London.'' "Oh, there'll be a wicked lot up in London. But qou won't find any bad characters hangin' around Piymchurch. If there were, my nephew would soon mid them out, I can assure you." "Ho seems a very useful sort of fellow, your nephew. 1 was very glad to make his acquaintance just mow. You sec," he went on quickly, "those people came, and wanted to stay hero tlio night " "Wherever was you goin' to put them up, with only one bed* But now that I'm mentioning it, Mr. Thorp, I 'ope as 'ow you iind the bed quite comfortable." "I expect I shall. Ei—Mrs. Pilchard!" The good dame, on her way to the kitchen, stopped. "Yes, Mr. Thorp?"

Jim coughed, before rushing his fences. "JL'v© simply been chock-a-block with visitors since you left, Mrs. Pilchard — my —cr —sister turned up about half an hour ago." "Lawks alive! Your sister, Mr. Thorp? Was you expecting her?" "Well, not exactly. As a matter of fact, it came quite as a surprise. . . . She's hurt her ankle." "The poor lamb! Where is she now?" "In the bedroom. No, I'll go in first, if you don't mind. What do you do with hurt ankles?" "Well, it all depends, Mr. Thorp; if it's a sprain, cold bandages wrung out in vinegar and water is a very good thing." A slight gurgle of mirth made Thorp put his hand on the bedroom door. "I'll just ask her what exactly is wrong; I believe she said she had turned it, or something." Without waiting to hear further comment, ho stepped into the room. The girl must have heard the conversation, and been prepared for his visit. He found her bunched up on the bed. with her hands clasping her knees. " 'Sister' is good," she said. He smiled back at her. "Better that 'wife' '(" "Oh, much better. It doesn't carry so much responsibility." She made a fascinating study, but he told himself he had to be serious-minded. "How's tho ankle?" he inquired, in a business-like tone. "Pretty punk—judging by the pain." "Well, outside is the greatest living expert on cold bandages wrung out in vinegar and water. Her name is Mrs. Pilchard, and she's a sort of daily woman. Anyway, my friend who owns this cottage, passed her on to me. She's making some coffee at this moment —by tho way, have you had any grub to-night?" "Not very much, I'm afraid." "All," ho commented, sagely. "I thought so. What about some sandwiches ?" "I'd love them." He stood looking down at her, a quizzical look on his face. "'Excuse me mentioning it, won't you "Sister," she put in. "Sister; but you are causing mo a terrible lot of trouble." "I realise that, and I'm truly sorry. Shall I buzz off now? I offered to, you know." "It is a fixed principle of mine never to allow people to leave by the back door. By the way, those two friends of yours " He stopped, because all the merriment had gone out of the girl's face like a light auddenly dimmed. The Shadow of Fear. Jim became instantly contrite. "I'm sorry," he said, "I ought not to have ragged you." She showed a slight return of her former animation. "Oh, it's all right," she replied. "In any case, you've been far too decent for me to be angry. I don't know how I shall ever be able to repay you." "There's no question of that," he reassured her. "I knew you were right up against it from the beginning. Besides, I never really believed in that bishop bloke or his supposed daughter. Were they the people from whose car you ran away ?"

"But—please—do you mind if I don't talk about that now ?" The shuddar which followed the words was conclusive enough. "Of course not." It was disappointing, because if there was one thing he wanted most in the world at that moment, it was a reasonable explanation of all this hullabaloo. Still, girls were like that . . . "We won't talk about anything you don't want to," he said, "but there s one thing vou must do." "Yes?" "You'll have to let Mrs. Pilchard examine- that ankle. She's a wizard on sprains, according to her own statement." "She didn't say that. I heard every .word, don't forget." "Well, her manner inferred it. Now I I'll go and calkier."

By Sydney Horler.

If Mrs. Pilchard was not a wizard on sprains, she qualified for the honour in other directions. By the time Jim arrived in the kitchen, lie found a neatly-cut pile of sandwiches, together with a pot of steaming and fragrant coffee. "I thought that your sister might like j something to eat, Mr. Thorp," she explained, "especially as she turned up so unexpectedly." "Mrs. Pilchard, you're an angel! You seem to know everything that's worth knowing, and to do everything that's worth doing." "I wouldn't claim to be so good as all that, Mr. Forbes—Thorp, I should say; it wouldn't be human-like. . . 'Ow is jour sister now, sir?" "She's looking forward to you operating on that ankle of hers." "1 dare say I can soon put it to rights. We who live in the country have to be something of nurses, you know. . . I've got the bandage ready." She bustled off. Anxious to do something himself, Jim picked up the tray and carried it hit) the living room. "Don't be too long the coffee's waiting," he called outside the bedroom door, after placing his burden down on a small tabic near the tire. Then, crossing the room, he smiled. Of course, he had to do the decent, but he had spoken just now as though to an old friend. This really was an amazing situation—in all his experience, and this was considerable, lie had never known anything quite like it. What was to be the end? Until that ankle was restored to strength, it was impossible for the girl to leave! And it was equally impossible for him to go. Yet—Oh, what was the use? It was no good to worry his head about it now, at any rate. He could doss in this easy chair by the fire, ho supposed. Then, as he restored a lump of coal to its place with the sole of his foot, he gave a mild snort. A nice beginning for a rest cure! He wondered what that eminent consultant, Stephen Kossiter, would have said. His further reflection* were interrupted by Mrs. Pilchard, who now came bustling out of the bedroom. "I don't think there's anything verywrong, Mr. Thorpe; but there's one thiug° certain, that ankle's got to be rested." "It lias?" "Yes, it lias! And now, the poor lamb has just told me that she could do with something- to eat. Will you come in and help me bring her out?" Jim could not tell whether St was gratitude or mild mockery which shone in the girl's eyes an he offered her his right arm. In any ease, it was a tantalising experience to feel this lovely creature—and she was certainly that— in such proximity to him. A slight giddiness came over him aa the three made a slow way towards the fire. But he knew that this was not due to the same cause as tho attack he had had outside his club the day before. As a matter of fact, he did not care to analyse more closely the exact cause of this present feeling; it would have been too disturbing. "Sorry to be such a nuisance," he heard the girl remark;.and then realised that he had given an angry toss to his head. "Don't you get sayin' another word like that, missy; I'm quite sure that your brother is only too pleased to have you."

"Are you 1" This impish sense of humour "was tantalising—he would have to tell her about it later on—but in the meantime there were appearances to be kept up. "Delighted, of course. But I'm sorry about your ankle." "Don't you get worryin' about that now," put in Mrs. Pilchard; "all it wants is a couple of days' rest. Now, my clear, you eit down there." The girl was lowered gently into the easy chair by the side of the fire. "My, but this is comfortable!" She looked across at Jim as flhe spoke, and her eyes were bright. He felt embarrassed. "What you want," he said, "is something to eat—and drink. Try these (sandwiches." Ho realised that ho was being awkward and gauche, but could not conquer the feeling. The thought of being left alone with this girl brought many conflicting emotions. But the stranger seemed entirely mistress of herself. She ate sandwiches and drank coffee as though sitting in her own home. Mrs. Pilchard waited until both coffee pot and sandwich plates wore empty. Then, picking up the tray, she waddled out into the kitchen. A minute later ehe reappeared, pinning on her hat. "You're not going, Mrs. Pilchard?" " 'Fraid I must. It's late, you know." "YeS —but wasn't your nephew coming back to fetch you!" "I asked him to, as you know—but he ought to have been hero by this time. In any case, I can't wait any longer. Will you tell him that, Mr. Thorp?" "Yes —if you're really determined to go. But why not sit down for a few minutes?" "If you don't mind, sir, I'll be getting on. That car is takin' a very long time to find." "So it v (julcl seem." He did not enlarge fvrther on his thoughts. "Don't forget your timbrella this ; time. '.us. Pilchard." ".Vat it now, if I shouldn't 'ave gone a second time without that there umbrella!" She returned to the kitchen, and emerged once again, clasping an old-fashioned gamp by the middle. After closing and relocking. the door, Thorp returned to Jii3 seat by the fire. "Feeling better /iosvT" he inquired. "Heaps. You're a sportsman!"' "Rot!" . ' "But you are!" . '. There was silence after this—a pregnant silence, full of weird little, queer little emotions. Jim realised he could not evade the truth—and the truth was that perhaps the most beautiful girl he had ever seen had been thrust -willynilly into his life, and that circumstances ruled that he would not be able to get rid of her for some time. If he wanted to. Did he want to?"

To avoid answering this question, lie reached up for his pipe. "Do you mind if I smoke?" "Do. I like to see a man smoking a pipe." "Cigarette? "Please." He etruck a match for her and then lit Ms pipe. . , "Do you live here V she asked, after a pause. "No. This place has been lent to me by a pal. He's a —writer." There was no reason why he should not tell her about Dick yivian, • ;.;•-.

"A writer 1 That sounds interesting." j But the animation in her tone quickly died down. She appeared to be thinking hard. "Then you can leave here when you like?" * ! He stared at her. A funny question. Anyone would have thought that, in the circumstances, the idea of his leaving the cottage would have been —well, not exactly a pleasant one. She was an inexplicable creature, but her beauty I held him in thrall. | ''Yes, I suppose I could; but it just i happens, you see, that I want to stay here." "Any particular reason? Forgive my terrible curiosity, please." She tried to make a joke of it, but did not quite succeed. Jim realised there was some; deep purpose at the back of these questions, and he wondered what it could be. But it would be ungallant for him to deny that there was a particular reason. "Oh, please don't joke about it —I was serious." "So am I." His voice had become very grave indeed. He was determined to get to the bottom of this mystery. The girl had a story to tell, and if he was to help her he had to know the real hang of things. But, even in the midst of his seriousness, the sudden obtruding, thought of Stephen Kossiter back in the; Harley Street consulting room, made, him grin. It was quickly discerned. "Why are you smiling?" the girl asked. "Mustn't I?" "Of course, if you like. Do you think I'm very terrible,' 'she went on, "probing about like this?'' "lly dear Mis.* Delvey, I thank you for your interest." But he was unable to keep a sardonic edge out of the words. Reproach came quickly. He saw her face change and shadows conic about it. 11l spite of the warmth of the fire, she shivered. lit! had to know why. Hang it, it was intolerable to see her like this. "Look here," he stated, "I have a proposition to make. If I tell you something about myself, will you reciprocate?" The shadows about her features seemed to, deepen. "Oh, there's nothing interesting about me. I should merely be boring you." Jt was quite obviously a prevarication. "Well," he said, anger bubbling to the surface, "I'm going to ask you one question, anyway. And I think I deserve a straight answer. Beady?" She nodded. "Was it because you were actually in clanger that you left that motor car to-night ?" "Yes." /flic answer was practically whispered. Jim, in very decency, had to look away, for the girl's beautiful body was shaken by a spesm of fear. (To be continued daily.)