Untitled

Auckland Star, Volume LXV, Issue 256, 29 October 1934, Page 15

(Author or "The Mysterious Masquerade," etc.

Ny J. R. WILMOT

CHAPTER XVI. Crime in a Good Cause. • Shirley Macadam arrived at Miss FiHingers house, as quickly as she could. Since receiving that telephone luessapo from her father she had been in a condition of tenso excitement, and she, too, had been watching the office clock with a fascination and impatience similar to John's. Promptly at five o'clock she inquired whether there were any more letters for her, and, receiving a negative g reply, asked permission to leave half a" hour before her usual time. Her arrival was destined to bo an anti-climax. Her father was there, it was true, but the jiew<s that-John had taken himself oft" to.London after promising Miss Filliiiger to await' her return crushed all the hopes that had arisen in her when she had heard that her father was going across with Miss Fillingcr to. meet John. "Ah, well," smiled Shirley, as she faced the pair, "it's something to know that daddy's been made to see the light." '•Light, fiddlesticks," chimed in Miss Fillingcr, "but he was certainly agreeaolc to meet the son." Miss Fillingcr felt surprised at herself as they all laughed. Age was adding a spice of humour at a time when it was popularly supposed to recede into oldmaidenly acidity. "Don't let it upset you, Shirley," sympathised the captain. "We'll all "go down to see him at the week-end. Won't we, IMiss Fillingcr?" "If you really feci that you want a chaperonc," smiled Miss Fillingcr, "Well, I-suppose I could look after the pair of you, couldn't IV "And John will be delighted," echoed Shirley, happily visualising a reunion scene and a supper afterwards at

Komano's or perhaps at the Cafe Anglais. "By the .-way,'' she broke off, suddenly, "do cither of you know what time the London train leaves Lime Street to-night?"

Miss Fillingcr confessed that trail limes were never licr strong point anc the captain shook his licad. Now, ha< it been a Cunard or a White Star sail-

""I was wondering." went on Shirley, seriously, "whether I could get over in time to stop his going to-night. After all, I can't sec that there's any desperate hurry . . . now," glancing across at her father.

"Don't go off on any fool's errand, child," protested Miss Fillingcr. "You'd most likely miss him and have all your hurry and worry for nothing. "Besides," she continued, practically, "tea's ready, isn't it, captain'/" "I should say it ought to he," boomed Captain Macadam, heartily. "You just stay whero you arc, my girl. It won't lie long before we sec John at tho weekend." Miss Fillingcr left them for a moment io attend to the kettle, -which vas audibly protesting fin the kitchen. Shirley flung her 'arms around her father's neck.; ~ ■' ■■ ■ - "I'm so gladj" daddy, "that" you've ' or_ piven John. I don't know how I can thank Miss Fillingcr enough." Captain Macadam iried to disentangle himself /-from his daughter's embrace. Such sudden displays of affection M'cre foreign to him. "Don't you be too. sure," he warned her; striving to fr ; own, darkly. "I'm «ot sa3"ing one way or the other as yet." "But I thought . . ." began the girl. "That's just it," interrupted the captain, sagely, ".you young people think

a darned eight too much.- You ought to follow yqnr instincts more," lie added, without realising how illogical he was. Further discussion was interrupted by the arrival of Martin. That young man stood staring at the trio from the doorway as if his eyes would at any moment pop right out of his head. "This is my nephew, Martin, captain," introduced Miss Pillinger, proudly, before Shirley had time to explain the unusual situation, "lie's a great friend.of your daughter's," she added wickedly. "Glad to meet you, my boy," greeted the captain, heartily, gripping Martin's hand as if it were a lifeline. "This is a great occasion, Captain," laughed Martin. "I'd. no idea that Aunt Lottie was having visitors to tea, otherwise I'd have, been hack earlier. We've had a slack day to-day by way of a diversion." , r "Tea's ready," announced Miss Fillinger, happily. ; : • "Where's dohn?" asked Martin, as he and Shirley followed the Captain and Miss Fillinger. Shirley told him, and Martin's face darkened. ".It was foolish of him to do that. It looks like running away," said Martin. "We're going down to London to sec 3iim at the week-end," Shirley told him. ".Miss Fillingcr's going to conduct the. tour."

"And where do I fit into this little plot"/" demanded Martin.. to the assembled company. "■You don't." Shirley told him, emphatically. "Wo can't havo you neglecting your new job, can we, Miss Fillinger?"

Miss Fillinger looked doubtful. It was true she had thought of Martin. She wanted him to bo with Shirley, but after all there, was something to .be said for the girl's point of view. "I'm afraid Martin will have to remain at home," site smiled. ''That is if he can manage to look after himself for a day or two."

'"Don't worry on my account," said Martin, reluctantly, still wondering how Aunt Lottie had managed to cajole the Captain into his capitulation. After tea the Captain mentioned that he ought to be back at t!-e Building before seven o'clock, '"just to sec if everything is all right," as he phrased it. Shirley protested: so did Miss Fillinger. but their protests availed nothing. The Captain was as hard as his namesake. And when Shirley heard that Martin had promised to go over to see Peter Dobbin "on business" she was just u littlo disappointed, too, because Martin was rather nice on occasions, and since she had known Miss Fillinger. shei had contrived to sec a side to Martin that she had never before expected. Of course, she. told hqrself, that was no reason at all why she should let Martin know her thoughts. So Martin accompanied Shirley and her father back to Liverpool and left them at the Building. Then he took a train from the Central Station out to Peter Dobbin's "place. ' ' The Dobbins 'were people who li,vcd sijiply, despite the fact that the firm oH Richard Dbbbih and Son was in a h .r we." of bui-inoss. The-house, '"FOur"u lvs" it was called, stood back" from

tlio road in m pretty, leafy urban area to thc south of thc city, but. if the'house was small it was comfortable and cosy, and Martin was always sure of a warm welcome. "The family's out," announced Peter, as ho greeted his friend. "Mother's got theatreitis at the moment, and insists on seeing as many shows as she can, and perhaps it's just as well to-night," he added, with a hint of mystery that perplexed the. level-headed Martin. "Come into the dug-out, where wc can talk like a couple of hard-boiled conspirators." • The dug-out was a small room on the first floor that had been intended by the. builder as a boxroom, but thc Dobbin family, apparently finding themselves without boxes, had decided many years before to convert the room into a pleasant little "study" for Peter ... a room where, Mrs. Dobbin always maintained, Peter could invito his friends without feeling that the remainder of the family were intruding. "What on earth arc you talking about?" demanded Martin, with a laugh. "Sit down," commanded Peter, almost pushing Martin into a chair beside an inviting-looking electric fire, "'and I will a story unfold that will make thc hair rise on thy scalp, and thy throat as dry as the desert duet." Martin regarded his friend closely. He knew, too, that Peter was never excited without cause. Peter filled his pipe before beginning. "Now, Martin, I'm serious," he prefaced. "Never more serious in my life. I'm convinced that Shirley Macadam's lino friend, Garvin Blake, is a low-down erook. At least I think he is," he added guardedly. "Listen!" as Martin leaned forward about to interject. "I'va been doing a little bit of investigating on my own account. You remember what I told you about seeing that gun in the drawer of his desk when 1 went to ask whether he'd bring a cargo round for us on Thc Corsair'f : Well, I wasn't satisfied. It might be all right and in order,' I thought, for a fellow to cany a gun, but there was something about Blake that I couldn't understand, and you know how it is when I'm like that. I'm a persistent devil although some people have been uneharitablo enough to call it inquisitiveness. I just couldn't rest until I'd got to the (bottom of it all." Ho paused, and Martin got an opportunity to speak. "And have you got to the bottom of it?"' he inquired, wishing that Peter would come more quickly to the point. Peter shook his head. "Not yet," he announced, decisively, "but you can bet your boots I shall. See this," ho questioned, suddenly, producing a revolver from his pocket and holding it towards thc astonished Martin, "you'd never guess where I got it, would you?" "D'you mean to say it's Blake's?" Peter smiled grimly. "I took it from one of his hired thugs," he announced. "He nearly hipped me with it, too. Thc nasty piece of work!" "But I don't quite follow," protested Martin. "How did it happen?" "Well, I've been breaking the law," went on Peter, unashamed. "I've broken into Blake's office on two occasions. It wasn't difficult. I just happened to find a kev on my bunch that fitted —after a few filings,'that is. The first time. I drew a blank, and probably got the wind up.' I thought I heard someone coming, and I was right. At least I thought I heard tho elevator working. I got out just in time, because it was Blake himself. Now I ask you, Martin, whoever would expect the fellow along after 10 o'clock at night?"

Martin was" listening so intently that thc cigarette between his fingers burned dangerously low. "And did he see you?" he inquired eagerly. "No," smiled Peter, "but it was a close thing. I let him have one .of my buttons as a souvenir. I wonder," he mused, "Whether Mister.Blake has been going around Liverpool looking for a man with a button missing- from his overcoat." "

"But what have you discovered? And what about the gun? ; ' Martin was anxious to hear Teter's conclusions.

"I'm coming to that. I went along last night, after having first ascertained that Blake was at the Crescent. No difficulty about getting in. Everything worked as slick as you please. I'm getting quite an expert at opening locked drawers, Martin, old hoy, and if anyone has told you that burglary is difficult, don't believe 'em. It's kid's play. Well, as I was saying. I'd been working on Blake's desk", and found nothing—at least nothing I could make head or tail of —when the door opened and a chappie stood there coolly brandishing a gun. He was a tall, lean, hungry-looking chap with a lined face. I saw all that in an instant, sort of photographically. To cut the story short, I made a neat little dive at him and landed him on the jaw. I must try Petersen after that sock,. Martin, for the fellow dropped. Not content, however, and not knowing whether any others were in the offing, I gave him another, just for hick, and walked out on him with his gun in my pocket. How's that for a story?" Martin's eyes were wide. He began to fear that Peter Dobbin had not come straight home from the Building; that he had been snared into "a comfortable hostelry on the way. If he had not known* Peter as well as he did —but Peter wasn't like that. "It sounds almost cinematic," said Martin. "Fantastic," he laughed, "as though it just couldn't have happened." "That's just what I thought myself," said Peter, "and if it hadn't been for finding the gun in my pocket when I reached home and this," he produced a folded piece of foolscap paper from his poeketbook, "I'd have said PcP-been dreaming. Xow what do you make of this, Martin?" He leaned forward and unfolded the document. "I got it from the only locked drawer in Blake's desk," he explained, "and I've been puzzling over it all day without making any sense i»f it." (To be continued daily.)