“FIND THIS MAN”

Bay of Plenty Times, Volume LX, Issue 11000, 27 December 1932, Page 4

“FIND THIS MAN”

f by ) » AIDAN DE BRUNE, , j

• (Author of “The Dagger and Cord,” “The Shadow Crook,” “The Little | | Grey Woman,” “The Unlawful Adventure,” etc., etc.,)

CHAPTER XVl—(Continued). Now she knew, ihere were two men of the same name—more than that they had identical initials. One of them was named H. G. Pender, the other H. F. Pender. Which was which? All the directory told her was that H. G. Pender lived at the Apsley—and Fred Powers had told her that he had traced his man there. Which man was the Harold Pender who had written to her at her godfather’s private box at the General Post Office. She believed that Harold Pender was the man who had attended the dinner at the Union Club. But against that was the fixed belief of the taxi-driver that the man he had been tracking was the true Harold Pender. There could not be two men of the same name! Either she or the taxi driver must be at fault. With a sudden impulse she went to the buhl box and touched the spring. The lid flew back and there, facing her, Avas the pictured image of the man who engrossed her thoughts. She examined the ’photograph carefully. It must be old; taken some years before; but it was the man she had watched. She was certain of that. A shrug, and Ivy replaced the photograph in the buhl box and closed the lid. She went round the desk to the door to switch off the lights. A number of letters on the blotting-pad caught her eye. What were those letters? The last post of the day had been delivered before she went to the Union Club. There had been a letter for her, which had been brought to her room. Where had these letters come from? Then, she remembered. When she had fetched the letters from her godfather's private box the previous evening she had placed them on the desk, unopened. She had been engrossed in the one letter, addressed to herself and had forgotten the others. She sat down at the desk. She was not feeling tired. Before she went to sleep she would open those letters-and if there was anything requiring her personal attention, separate it from the others, which would have to go to Mark Kithner. Casually, she slit the envelopes, withdrawing the contents. Some of them were bills. She placed them aside, in two piles. One or two of them she would pay, from the money the lawyer held in trust Cor her. Others, obviously, would have to go to him. They did not apply to the house and only the lawyer’s intimate knowledge , of her godfather’s estate could deal with them. Two she placed on one side, to consider later. She carried the two letters to the big'chair, before the dying fire, and set down to study them. The first was interesting. It related to certain dealings in shares and was signed “Pender and Pender.’’ The address bore the description of “Stock and Sharebrokers.” Then, both the men who bore the name “Pender” were related to each other and had had dealings with her godfather, almost up to the day of his eath. This letter showed that. It related to some deal her godfather w r as engaged upon at the time of his death—from the tone of the letter a deal of some magnitude. But, she had in the safe, in that room, securities amounting to one hundred and fifty thousand pounds. That, in itself, was a large fortune, What then was this money, of which “Pender and Pender” ;wrote? Had that deal been successful? If it had, then her godfather’s estate had been considerably augmented. If, on the other hand, it had resulted in failure, then there was a chance that the securities in the safe would barely, cover the loss. ! She would have to know definitely, and soon. Ivy -smiles wryly. She had all the time in the day on her hands, now. She could not gO' down to ‘Lome, florists’, after what had happened at the Union Club. But—what had happened? She had broken down under the strain of the evening, following on a hard day’s work. Instinctively, she had turned to the man with her for comfort. He .... Again the hot colour flooded her face and neck. Why had she turned to this man for comfort? He was not to blame. The whole affair had been her fault. She looked down, at the second letter, puzzled. The handwriting was familiar to her; yet the signature—the one word—was strange.Where had ‘ she seen that handwriting before? She knew it well, yet’for the time could not place it. She ! turned to the wording of the note. There was neither address nor date heading the letter. It was not inscribed to any particular person. The words contained in the letter were few and, so far as she could understand hardly made cense.

For long minutes she sat, conning the note. What did it mean? Almost she was inclined to throw it away; yet she had never known her godfather to do anything without excellent reason. The clock chimed the hour and then struck two o’clock. Ivy looked up, startled. She gathered the letters together and placed them in a drawer of the desk; then switched out the lights and opened the library door. The hall was in darkness! For a moment she hesitated. Had she turned out the lights in the hall when she passed through, to come to the libzrary? No, she could not remember doing that. Then, who had extinguished the lights. A strange sense of fear came over her. CHAPTER XVII. Who was in the hall? Ivy had a feeling that she was not the only person awake in the house. She could feel a presence near her; an antagonism indefinite but very real. She groped forward to find the switches: then suddenly stopped. She had heard a sound, the shuffling of feet, as if someone with eyes more accustomed to the darkness was watching her. She wanted to cry out but a choking feeling held her silent.

Again she took a step forward towards the light-switches, feeling before her with both hands. She touched something soft—and cried out. Again came the feeling of someone moving near her. She turned and fled up the stairs. Half-way up to her room she turned and looked back. The hall was still in darkness. She listened, but could hear no sound. Almost she wanted to return to the hall and switch on the lights; to assure herself that she was alone on the ground floor of the building. No; she would not go back. She had been imagining things. Turning she sped up the stairs to the door of Mary’s room. No light ehowed under the door. She turned the handle and opened the door slightly. The room was in darkness. She thrust back the door and went towards the bed, softly calling the girl. There was no answer. She went to the bed and felt along the covers. Mary was not in the bed — it had not been slept in! With a little cry she fled to the door and flooded the room with light. Where was Mary? She looked arouund the room. The girl had not made any preparations to retire to bed that night. There was no disorder in the room. " She opened the wardrobe door. Immediately she saw that Mary’s hat and coat were missing.

Then, Mary had gone from the house. Where? For long moments' Ivy stood staring at the pdg on which the coat had hung. Mary had left her home! What did that mean?

A feeling of intense loneliness came over the girl. Mary had left her! For what reason? She was

alone in the big, gloomy house—and in it were indescribable terrors. She ran down the corridor to the door of her godfather’s room. It had not been touched, since he had been carried out of it on the start of his last journey. For a moment she hesitated, her hand on the handle, then pushed open, the door. The room was silent and vacant. Glancing fearfully towards the bed on which , he had been lying when she had last entered the room, she ran across to the old bureau. In one of the top drawers was an old-fashioned revolver, loaded. A moment and she had found the weapon. She snatched it up . and turned from the room. At the head of the stairs she stopped and listened. She could not hear a sound in the house, and crept down a few stairs. Again came the feeling that she was not alone; near her hovered some malignant presence. On the last step she paused, waiting. Gathering up her courage, she fled across the hall to the lightswitches and pressed them down. No beam of light answered her call. She shuddered. What had happened to the lights? It Avas impossible for all the globes to have broken! For long minutes she waited, her fingers on the switches. If she waited, kept entirely still, perhaps she would learn something-—see something—that would explain the mystery that now shrouded the house. ■■ She stared around the wide hall, careful to make no movement. A faint light was flowing in at the windows, sufficient to throw thin, ghostly shadows around. Prom the wln- ‘ dow at the head of the stairs streamed a single, broad ray of light, flooding the stairway down which she had come. How foolish she had been! They --if anyone had been in the hall—must have seen her come down the stairs. They would have had time to hide—to watch for her to make some /move. The stillness became intolerable. Very silently and slowly she moved from the switches towards the library door. Immediately her fingers found the light-switch and depressed it. The globes remained dark. With a sudden little run she reached the desk—to collide with something soft, yet firm, and fall to the ground. Instinctively, she retained her grip on the revolver. Lying quiescent, she waited. Now she knew that there was some tangible presence f with her in the rom. Prom where j she lay the desk cut off sight of the farther side of the room. Cautiously, she raised herself, catching at the edge of the desk. Slowly she searched the shadows.

“The big boy will certainly overflow gushingly within the next few days. I have everything prepared for that. Big boy is a winner and if you are careful you can do well with him. If you want more information, try

There the scrawled lines ended; to be followed by a single word written in capitals. Was it'a Word, or a series of four initials. She could not decide. Certainly, as a word, it read.- ‘‘NEWS.” Again the girl turned to the writing. She was certain that she had seen it before, and frequently. Realisation came in a flash! That note had been wirtten by her godfather! Who had he written that note to, and how had it come in his private box at the General Post Office? She was certain that all the envelopes she had opened had been addressed to “Basil Sixsmith.” Had she been mistaken? She did not believe so. She took up the waste-paper basket and turned it over on the desk. There Avere only six envelopes in it. All of them were addressed to Basil Sixsmith, and all of them had been posted in the city. Why had her godfather written so strange a note to himself? She tried, to understand it, reading it again and again. Who Was “Big Boy?” Why should he -“overflow gushingly?” She laughed, almost hysterically.

There was a strange darkness in the corner of the room, near the big safe. Raising herself until she was on her knees, she brought up the revolver until the muzzle rested on the edge of the desk. She waited a moment, summoning all her resolution, then pressed the trigger firmly. The explosion of the cartridge Avas ansAvered by a ringing sound. Almost as if it had been a signal, the lights in the room came on. (To be continued).