The FLYING ARGOSY

Auckland Star, Volume LXVI, Issue 208, 3 September 1935, Page 17

The FLYING ARGOSY

AKIiIURJ. REE?

CHAPTER XII. Lymen raised Ms head quickly, surprise and suspicion strumming in his eyes. "What do you come here about? The Plying Argosy ? What is it to you ?" "I have a feeling of responsibility in the matter; that is all." "And what is that to me?" said Lyinen, looking at Mm hard. "You know something of the missin<» gold." His face deadly pale, Lymen recoiled. "No!" he exclaimed sharply, "I do not." "I think you do. The thing was in the grand manner, so well-ordered, so complete in every detail, that it suggests—to my mind—yourself. Gold is your speciality, as mine was jewels, and you know that I am aware of it." Lymen was obviously disconcerted. He looked angrily at Aldringham. "The- grand manner!" he sneered. "That touch was yours, and yours alone. This gold robbery was not my work. It is more likely to have been yours." "No, it was not," he said slowly. "But does that matter? The blame has been placed upon the captain of the ship, who took the gold up to London, and, apparently, did not watch it closely enough—an unfortunate mistake on his part." Lymen laughed shortly. "Such mistakes have to be paid for— the law exacts the price." "Captain Vandcrdoss is innocent." "How do you know that?" "Because I was a passenger on the train tliat carried the gold, and recognised the guard. My memory is a retentive one, and I knew him as soon as I set eyes upon him, although he had grown a beard, possibly in keeping with the part." "This, is nothing to me," Lymen sharply said. Aldringham raised his eyebrows. "I dare say you could tell me how Sergius Melker found his way into the railway company's employ. He is an old acquaintance of ours. In the past you found him a very useful man, and frequently availed yourself of his talents. There he was, as guard of the boat train that night, occupying the guard's van, where the gold was. I rather think he could throw some light upon its" strange disapi>earance and that it was he who helped to spirit it away. In fact, his subsequent disappearance seems to place it beyond the region of doubt. And behind Melker stands —you." A smile played on Aldringham's lips as he said this, but his eyes were grave. Lymen's eyes Hashed with an evil light. "Be careful, I warn you—be careful of what you say," he exclaimed, but Aldringham remained unmoved. There was silence between them. Lymen gave his companion a doubtful look, and then sat back, deep in thought. Suddenly he looked up and said: "I should like twenty-four hours to think over this. Will you come and see me again in that time'f" Aldringham did not reply immediately. After a pause he gave a slight nod of his head. "Very well," he said curtly. I will return to-morrow morning. But don't try any tricks." Lymen sighed. Having gained his end, he was his oily self again. "All, what makes you mistrust me, Mr. Aldringham t" ~,,,•, "Your own actions, said Aldringham, and turned towards the door. As it closed behind him Lymen touched a bell. It was answered by the Chinaman. Lymen looked up. "Tell Pedro to follow that man who hae just gone out—but keep on the other side of the highway." "Pedro no like to. Someone watches this place from outside," the Chinaman replied. . . Lymen muttered an oath under his breath. . . . "Well, never mind, then," he replied, making no explanation. But he determined to be ready for Aldringham when he came again. The Portrait. Merrington leant back in his chair and held up his hand. "It won't do, Dawsoii; not good enough!" "I think it is, sir," was the. cautious reply. "It looks to me as though there were something between them. The pair of them dined together at the Fortwna Restaurant in Soho last night, and afterwards went in a taxi to the Queens Hall, where a violin recital was on. Earlier, in the morning, Aldringham was seen leaving Lymen's place in Deadiift Avenue. Surely the connecting link is there?" .. ■ , Merrington shook his head. Perhaps; but hardly sufficient." Dawson hesitated. "We might settle it by arresting all three. I believe Lymen has the gold.' Again Merrington shook his head, more emphatically. "Do you imagine that Lymen and Aldringham are to be trapped as simply as that?" he asked. "Vanderdoss, yeshe is merely a tool. But with the other two it won't be easy. We shall have to go warily to work, if the tall man really

is Aklringham." "I don't think there is much doubt on the point," Dawson replied. "Caldew followed him and lost him, but Forslake saw him leaving Lymen's. He recognised him from the photograph." Merrington shrugged his heavy shoulders. "Extremely suspicious. Dawpon, so tar as it goes, but that is all. This is too bi? a thing to take any chances; we must be certain before we strike. I am seeing the Home Secretary about the case this morning, and I'll acquaint him with the additional facts. Meanwhile, the three men must be kept under the closest scrutiny, but it must be done with prudence and skill. We know Lymen of old; he will slip finders yet—if we don't take care." He spoke with an air of finality. Dawson rose from his chair. _ "Very good, sir," he said, and hurried from the room. A few minutes later Merrington pro ceeded to the Home Office to keep hiappointment, and found Glenluce await ing him with a rather unpromising fatOn the table beside him was a iwy paper, turned down at an article wit the heading, "The Gold Robbery Case.'

(Author of "Island of Destiny," " Threshold of Fear," " Greymarsh," "Moon Rock," etc., etc.)

"Sit down, Merrington," Glenluce coldly began. "1 have sent for you to ask you what has been done with regard to this stolen gold. Is Scotland Yard going to be outwitted by this gang of thieves ? You seem to have done nothing so far." Merrington reddened slightly. "That is a somewhat severe stricture, sir," he rejoined with dignity. '"Progress has undoubtedly been made." "But no arrests." "I know who the thieves are, but it is too soon to strike." "And who are they?" "I am on the track of three, but it is possible that there may be more. The captain of the ship is one. He is associated, directly and indirectly, with the two other men. One was seen in his company in the boat train and has been with him since. The third man is a notorious receiver, who plans big thefts, but remains in the background, leaving others to do the more hazardous work. He, and the man seen with Captain Vanderdoss, were probably the two leading spirits in this affair. The receiver is an Austrian Jew named Lymen, a man who speaks several languages and is a past graduate in crime. For a long while we have been unable to bring him to book, but I think we have got him this time. The other— Vanderdoss's acquaintance— was seen leaving Lymen's place in the East End this morning. Vanderdosb forms, as it were, a link between the pair—the inference is plainly there." Glenluce was silent for a moment and looked at Merrington with interrogative eyes. "And who is this other man? Is he also a well known criminal?" Merrington regarded him doubtfully. "Do you recollect Dawson speaking about the robbery on the day after it happened, and saying that —in his opinion—it could only have been planned by one man?" "Yes." "Well, that is the man I mean. His name is Aldringham." Glenluce suddenly flushed scarlet. "Aldringham?" he repeated in a thin, hard voice: "Aldringham is dead." Merrington shook his head. "He was supposed to be dead, but apparently he has escaped. He lias a past, not yet paid for, and if he is alive and in this country—" "What stops have you taken to ascertain definitely?" "Well, Forslake recognised him by a photograph found in Aldringham's flat in Half Moon Street, after he disappeared. Forslake is certain that the man he has been shadowing is the same." "Have you this photograph?" "It is in my office." "I should like to see it, if you will send it over to me." "Yes, sir; of course."

Glenluce picked up some papers from the table as he spoke, and Mcrrington understood that the interview was at an end. He rose and with a slight bow left the room. Glcnluce sat motionless in his chair, thinking over what had taken«place. J-Jo Aldringham was actually alive, if Merrington were to be believed. Was it possible? If so, he was confronted with a terribly awkward situation and Aklringltam's arrest would mean that that past episode which he had thought buried forever, would have to come out. And what about Margery, and her share in that scoundrel's escape? How on earth was he going to face it? What was he to do? As he sat thus, in anguished perplexity, the door opened and a commissionaire came in with a small packet. "From Sir Herbert Merrington, sir," he said, presenting it. When the door closed behind the man, Olenluee opened the packet with trembling hands. Inside was a cabinet photograph. It was that of one whom he feareu most to sec: Aldringham. The sound of the door reopening startled him. He turned sharply to see Margery standing there, pretty as a picture and exquisitely dressed. She gave him a charming little smile. "Hero I am uncle. I thought I would surprise you. Arc you ready for lunch?" Lunch. He had forgotten all about having promised to take her out to lunch in the upset of thi* thing. And there was that infernal photograph lying face upward on the table. Why had he left it there? He made a step toward it, too agitated to speak, but Margery looked tip into his face and followed the direction of his eyes. She turned and saw the portrait. Before he could reach the table she had picked it up. Ho heard her startled exclamation and went toward her. But she drew back quickly, the photograph in her hand. "Uncle! What are you doing with this?" she asked breathlessly. "What does it mean?" Glenluce did not immediately speak. Conflicting emotions were at war within his official eoul. Then he put a hand on her arm and said:

"I will tell you the truth, Margery. I don't know—yet—whether he is alive or dead." She looked at him wondering. "What do you mean?" Hβ told her as quietly as possible, in the fewest words. She dried her tears and smiled tremulously. "I am eure he is alive, uncle. I ehall always love him, you know—and now I shall see him again." At these words Glenluce'a heart eank low. See him again, this notorious adventurer, this daring and reckless ecoundrel, who had come back in such an uncanny fashion from the grave. If ho were arrested this time, he would be lucky if he got off with ten years. Yet Margery was in love with him. Truly, women were incredible creatures, difficult to understand. Margery, glancing at him, guessed something of the struggle in hie heart. She leant forward and kiseed his agitated face with her soft lips. "Oh, don't be angry, uncle; none of us con help the way we are made. Say no ■ more about it. And now, aren't you going to take me out for lunch?" Realising the uselessness of further protest, Glenluce accompanied her without a word. They went in his car to a fashionable restaurant in the West End, where the cuisine was reputed to be the best in London, and the prices correspondingly high. But it was—for both of them—the pretence of a meal. (To be continued daily.)