The Takahe Stud

Press, 12 October 1976, Page 10

The Takahe Stud

RAPHAEL J. MACLOUGHLIN

7

Forced to bring the Land-Rover to a halt, Rory stepped out into, the glare of headlights belonging to the car that had suddenly emerged from the shadows to block his way. The fight he’d had with Wayne in the Takahe Bar sprang to mind, was this to be a case of reprisal by superior' numbers?

‘■What’s this all about?” he asked. In answer, the door of the car swung open and the driver, stepping forth spoke in an accent similar to Rory’s exclaiming: "Well, Rory O’Donnell, you’re a long way from home.” “I’d say we both are and maybe it’s one of us was wishin’ to back there again.”

“You’ve led me a merry chase over the past few days then I I saw you riding on the Taka he Stud with the owner’s daughter. Bit of a change from your usual line of work, isn’t it?” “And now, here you are,” said Rory, ignoring the other’s last comment. “Yet,” said the stranger, producing a gun, “here I am!”

The hours passed and the peace that prevailed on the Takahe Stud was broken only by the occasional rustle of windswept trees. However, the minds of its occupants were not in tune with nature, troubled thoughts and concern made sleep impossible for Garth and his daughter, Penny. "He should have been here long before now, Dad, what can be keeping him?” "I wish I knew,

Penny, perhaps this is why he didn’t seem to want you with him,” said Garth. “I know, I’ll ring Alf Carr and ask him if Rory dropped into his bar tonight.” Penny waited anxiously as her father dialled the appropriate number. “Hello! Why, Garth, what has you ringing this time of night? No! you didn’t disturb me, I was just catching up on a little after-hours drinking,” said the

hotel proprietor. “What’s that? Yes, there was, big fellow, funny accent, he beat up a truckie, said goodnight and walked out” The hotelier took a sip from his drink and continued: “the truckie was helped out by his mate, immediately after the big fellow left. What! he works for you. Well, Garth, it’s your business but I wouldn’t want to do business with HIM, goodnight.”

The morning' came quickly, there was still no sign of the stud’s Assistant Manager, Rory O’Donnell. Penny and her father went about their business but it was hard to concentrate. Endeavouring to train a horse for barrel-racing, Penny

found herself continually at fault as regards balance. “It’s no use. Dad, I can’t blame the horse. When it’s balance is right, mine is wrong. I just can’t help thinking about Rory.” “Well, there’s no point in timing you, if he isn’t here

in another few moments, I’ll ’phone the police.” Garth had just finished speaking, when the familiar sound of the stud Land-Rover fell on their cars. “It’s my LandRover,” said Garth, “but is that Rory driving it, I can’t see!”