IN THE LIST STRIDE

Cromwell Argus, Volume LXX, Issue 3627, 3 July 1939, Page 2

IN THE LIST STRIDE

CHARTER XXVJII (continued) Up the hills of North Sydney the police car forged its way, with never a falter. Right out until the rock-bound gorge over, which the massive suspension bridge leads; ;to nowhere was reached. Then, when the car could go no further, it was left in the protecting shadows of the rocks and bushes, while, its silent passengers alighted to cautiously pick their way through the darkness under the guidance of Jimmy Lee. Watched closely by Bob Bundle, Jimmy crept .downward, picking a track through scrub and over rocks, his companions following in Indian file.. ■ wy!*At length the guide paused on a large flat overhanging Tpck.s Near where he stood a bottomless upturned bucket emitted a wreath of smoke, a strange sight to those who \ stood around, but to Jimmy an indication that lie had reached his destination and was standing on the roof of old Sandy's cave, ; Jimmy listened for a moment with his ear against Sandy's improvised chimney pot. “Not here yet,” he whispered. “I, can.% bear anyone, only Sandy poking the fire in, his stove, getting ready for his visitors, 1 1 suppose. I’ll jump down, and have a word with him.” “Stop where you are,” ordered the sergeant. “We’re not taking any chances. They might be there, and I want to be ready for them,” He stationed two of his men in concealment near the entrance to the narrow passage which formed an approach between the rocks to the front of the cave, then motioned for Jimmy Lee and Bundle to advance to the door, he following. , I Whistling a few notes of a tune, and at the same time knocking three times on the door, the Chinaman waited. Without much delay the door moved slowly inward, disclosing the ( white beard of the old cave dweller. “Come in, Jimmy, boy,” exclaimed Sandy, “You’re expected-——” Then he became aware of a dark strange figure showing over Jimmy’s head, and he paused. Bundle's Tong arm rieached out impatiently to grasp the door. It flew Inward, sending poor old Sandy sprawling. Pushing Jimmy before him, forcibly. Bundle sprang into i tke cave followed by Sergeant Waterjohn. There was a scream of "Police!” from the old man, the door slammed violently, a bolt was shot, and the cave was plunged in darkness. In the flash of light, before the lamp was extinguished; the raiders had seen besides old Sandy three other figures in the cave. Two in attitudes of alarm, the, other lying bound upon the ground. ... _ .f . Per a moment there was silence, as, in the dark, each man crouched, expecting an attack from he knew not what direction, Suddenly a sound as of a body falling resounded through the rock-bound apartment, "Then a voice hissed out: "Got you, you pimping mongrel,” followed by pounds as of a terrific struggle in the gloom. No man dared to strike a match for fear of directing an attack upon himself, but listened in silence to that invisible battle being waged within a few feet of them, while from without came the noise, of knocking and a demand for admission,/ ‘•“Don't, Cap; for. God’s sake, let go! You’re choking me. Don’t kill me —” The voice was Jimmy’s Lee’s and he was in mortal terror. Again he spoke, uttering a smothered cry for help as if something had gripped him by the throat and was squeezing the life out of,, him. Then from out of the darkness a revolver spat twice, and a sharp cry told that a bullet had found a human target. Sergeant Waterjohn, with his smoking weapon tightly grasped, sprang forward in the direction of the cry. “A light. Bundle!” he cried. “I've winged one of ’em.” Then he, too, was struck to earth, and a figure hurled itself jJast to seize and throw the door wide open, A bright ray of light, shone forth at I last, as Milton Peachey holding an . electric torch sprang into the cave. He paused to gaze upon the strange scene. At his feet lay Alick Wallace, bound hand and foot; with wide open, wondering eyes. Nearby two men were stretched, locked in each other’s grasp. The hand of one clutched the other’s throat, and from the blackened face the tongue protruded, while over the livid features of him who had choken his opponent blood slowly trickled from a wound in his white forehead. The sergeant rose from where he had fallen, and with Peachey approached the stiffening bodies. “Dead!” <he gasped. “I heard the Chinaman’s death gasp and fifed. Good Clod! I only thought to stop the struggle, and I have killed this man.” - “Yes, Dudley Norton is no more,” said Peachey, removing his cap. “He met his just deserts while in the act of murder. But where is Quilty?” Into the cave came two more constables, pushing Andy Quilty before them, handcuffed and panting, with Ike Duggan bringing up the rear. Ike was on his kneesundoing Alick's bonds now, hurling denunciations at the author of the outrage of his friend. “Hush,” said Wallace, as he struggled stiffly to his feet, “There he lies; he will trouble us no more, Ike, lad. No

By ARTHUR WRIGHT Author of "Over the Odds" «niP“A|Game of Chance."

Published by Arrangement with N.S.W. Bookstall Co. Ltd [All Rights .Reserved]

need to curse him now. Andy, the game is finished at last.” “Yes,” said Quilty sullenly; “you’re coming out on top after all, Wallace. Well, I don’t bear no malice. You deserve it; and don’t forget that you owe me something. Only for me Norton would have killed you to-night as he killed Jimmy Lee there.” “I won’t forger, Andy,” said Wallace. "I know you were only the tool of that poor wretch who lies there; but it is not too late now to make amends.” CHAPTER XXIX. In the Last Stride Rand wick once again, ’Neath dull grey skies the thousands throng, caring not for the wintry wind that blows, nor the rain that threatens, for good sport is promised, and the race for the Winter Stakes must not be missed. Alick Wallace, the hero of the hour, is there, the centre of an, admiring crowd that gather around the stall of his horse, Sunlocks, who is favorite for the big'event. Wallace has passed through his ordeal and emerged unscathed. Andy Quilty had made amends. Told in court the whole story of Dudley Norton’s plot to ruin Alick, and his statement, backed up by that of Jimmy Lee’s, so wisely obtained from Milton Peachey, had cleared Wallace completely. The erring Quilty had gone along for trial, while Wallace walked forth free and unstained. He had played against his native State again, and led the Maroons ones more to victory, but in spite of all he was not happy. Every thing ?has come his way these latter ' days 'blit that which he has longed for most —some word of love from Enid King. Yet, after that scene at “Moonbi," how could be expect it? She was given to Stanley Hudson, and he must make the best of it. Several times had his young benefactor?:sought him out, but Alick would have none of him, until Stan at last would bother no more with him, nor intercede on Enid’s behalf. Hudson Senior had .come down with his daughters and handsome Hetty Barton, and Alick, thinking to forget the pain that was gnawing at his heart, sought consolation in the company of the northern beauty. Enid, who had been on the point of begging Alick to come to her once again, saw what was going on and in her jealousy declared that she was done with her false lover for ever. She would show him that she was not to be lightly put aside. His horse, Sunlocks, was favorite for the Winter Stakes, but he would not win, for her horse, Striker, would down this wonderful chestnut. Alick, as he promenaded the lawn with Miss Barton, looked up and saw Enid, with Stan Hudson and his sisters, on the stand, and his heart was heavy within him- How well she looked, and how happy. Why did he ever come back? The clearing of his name was nothing her smiles and approval, and that was denied him. Ah, well; it would soon be over now, and Sydney would know him no more. He left. Miss Barton and entered the betting ring. Strange to say, Striker was favorite now, and Sunlocks was, for some unaccountable reason, receding. , “OFF!” Flat, leger and grandstand roared the word in unison, A lovely start, indeed. The twenty horses moved from the barrier in one unbroken line, but at once a black horse, with crouching rider clad in green and gold, dashes away with a two-lengths' lead. "Striker!” cried the crowd, and Alick grips his glasses tighter and clenches his teeth. “Wants to win all the way, eh?” he mutters. “I’m afraid you can’t do it, my boy. Striker might be brilliant, but he will want to be more than that to win from end to end.” See, they were closing, on him now. Already his lead was being reduced but still his head was in front as Kensington was left behind. Sunlocks was running in the ruck, seemingly not receiving the smoothest of passages, but Alick did not despair as he watched. As the turn is reached the onlooking crowd was silent. No horse now showed out prominently, though Striker has not been quite headed. The field was bunched. It was anyone’s race. Round the bend they swung, and into the straight. Now the hushed concourse found its voice, as on the rails one horse shoots away from the rest with a splendid display of pace. Striker, the black, won all the way. It was any odds on. The crowd cheered as the horses thunder down the straight, and Alick ground his teeth almost despairingly. “Sunlocks,” he mutters, “what’s wrong? Have you forgotten how to gallop?” He stole a glance behind him. Not far away Enid stood alongside Stan Hudson. Wallace saw her clutch his arm in her excitement, and looked away again quickly. Up the, home stretch the field racing to a roaring chorus of the leading horses’ names; but suddenly a stronger, louder roar arises—a shout that makes Alick’s blood tingle ‘Sunlocks! ,The top weight! Sunlocks!” Yes, from the centre of the galloping bunch, like an arrow from ;the bow, and a handsome golden chestnut —Sunlocks. He had had a bad run, and his backers had given up hope;

but now they shouted, for they had still a chance, and a good pne. Responding generously to every call of his cool-headed pilot, Sunlocks sped onward at record pace. Stride by stride he gained on the*tiring leader. At the Leger but half a length separated the two, and together they raced for the post, far in advance of a beaten field. Encouraged by the roar from a thousand throats the two lads rode all they knew in their battle for supremacy. Their mounts, quite alive to the situation, and with the excitement of battle strong within them, faltered not. Gameness was theirs to the last degree. No weak spot was shown by either to disgrace their gallant sires. Locked together, they flash past the waving crowd ih the stands. Now whips and spurs were working madly. The post was near. Who should triumph—the top weight or the gallant Striker? Alick Wallace or Enid King? To the beat of the hoofs the excited cry of the crowd appeared to keep time—Striker, Sunlocks, Striker, Sunlocks. To Wallace the seconds seem hours. Would it never be over? One final supreme effort on the very post; one final roar from the multitude, then silence. What had won? No one can tell. So close is the finish that only the judge knows. Impatiently and silently the overwrought people awaited the verdict. How long it seemed to be in coming. Wallace, fearing the worst, glued his eyes on the judge’s box. Oh, there it was at last. Two numbers side by side. A dead heat! And the cheering broke out afresh as the gallant two returned to weigh in. Alick turned to Ike feeling like the lady who did not know whether to laugh or cry, “That beats all,” he gasped. “Half a loaf is better than no bread,” quoted Ike. “I didn't think we had a hope of even half a win. He got up in the last stride,” He turned to glance up at Enid, but she and her party had gone, and before him stood Stanley Hudson. “How are you, Ike?” he said, grasping Duggan’s willing hand, and then he turned with outstretched hand to Alick. Wallace drew back stiffly. “I have to thank you, Mr. Hudson, for my present position perhaps, but I would rather that we did not meet again in friendship.” “And your reason?” "You did not play fair. Taking advantage of my then helplessness, you stole from me the love of ” “You great fool!” interrupted Hudson, "suppose I was to tell you that I come to take you to Miss King now; that she has sent me for you. Come, Alick; this thing must have an end.” “But are you not engaged to her? I agreed that if you won her I would —” “I win her!” said Hudson bitterly. “No such luck while Alick Wallace lives. I tried to, but failed utterly.” “But ” “Never mind the ‘but,’ cried Hudson. “Come on; Miss King is determined to run this off and beat your Sunlocks pointless.” Alick followed, doubting. If these two were not engaged, what, then, did that scene that he had witnessed at “Moonbi” mean, when Hudson had knelt at Enid’s side holding her unresisting hand? Down underneath the stand Hudson led him, out on to the grass where spreading trees cast their shadows o’er the sward. There, the centre of a laughing throng, sat Enid King. Around her crowded the Hudson girls and Hetty Barton, while Mason King and Hudson Senior laughed gaily at the girls’ merry banter. Alick had to shake everybody’s hand and submit to sundry claps on the back administered by the men. Then he felt himself forced to face Enid. A mist seemed to gather before his eyes as their hands met, and when it cleared he saw that they were alone. He sank down beside her and again seized her hand greedily. “Enid, is it true? You have not ceased to love me ?” ' “You have been cruel, Alick,” she murmured. “Why did you not come to me?” “I thought that you had turned me down for Hudson. I did go to ‘Moonbi,’ thinking to see you, and through the window I saw him kneeling by your side, while ” “My poor boy,” sighed Enid, “I had sent him to find you that night, and he had failed. You must not be hard on him, he has taken his defeat manfully, and tried to bring you to me in spite of the love he thinks he bears me.” / “But you did not write. You found out that I was at Mindah ” “I did not dare, for fear that it would lead to your discovery; and then when you went to Brisbane and your horse won so handsomely I heard that you were smitten by the charms of Miss Barton and ” “Oh, that the game Hudson played, eh?” smiled Alick. "He knew something, all right; but there was nothing in it. Miss Barton is a fine girl, and some day, perhaps, might make Stan happy ” “Well, what about it, you owners; have you decided?” It was the voice of Stanley Hudson, and the lovers looked up in confusion. “What?” asked Alick. “Decided what?” “About the race, the dead heat, you know.” “I had forgotten there ever was a race,” said Wallace. “Oh, we’ll divide; yes, of course. Wouldn’t be allowed to do anything else, I suppose. WeTI divide this time, but w r e’ll divide no more. In future we run together, eh, Enid?” “For life,” she said softly, and Hudson, taking a hand of each, placed them together; then, turning with a sigh, left them to their new-found joy. [The End]