JILL OF THE FIELDS

Evening Star, Issue 21637, 5 February 1934, Page 3

JILL OF THE FIELDS

A ROMANCE

[By KENNAWAY JAMES.] (Author of “ Hers to Command,” “ What Hargreaves Knew,” etc.)

CHAPTER. XIII. (Continued). Mark encountered Jill in the farmyard, and although they .spoke of larm matters and of the murder, nothing was said of the incident indoors. Jill had already heard from one of the men of old George’s encounter with the inspector. “If he is tried for murder,” she said, “it will be the most. fantastic murder case ever tried. Hello, there’s that other inspector back from Denbridge.” The other officer saluted awkwardly as he passed them on his way to join Norton. Presently the two came across to Mark and Jill.

“ My colleague reports that your friend Mr Barbour left Denbridge for London this morning, Miss Merridew. Perhaps you will be good enough to give us his London address?” “ I haven’t got it,” said Jill. “ And he’s a friend of yours,” said the inspector, raising his eyebrows. “ Yes, a friend,” replied Jill. “But I have not got his address. We don’t correspond; in any case, what are you getting at, may 1 ask? 1 am the mistress of this farm and I’m not used to being; mistaken for a liar. Anything else? We’re busy, and this affiair has already upset the day’s work.” “ Er, no, there’s nothing else at the moment,” said Norton, “but it’s strange that your friend should have suddenly gone to London on the .morning of the murder without telling you.” I never said lie didn’t tell me, snapped Jill. “ You just sent this man to Denbridge without asking me, 1 think if I were a police officer I should manage things a nit better than that. Why, you can’t even manage old George according to what I hear! ” Norton, who was still suffering from the ridicule which George had neaped upon him, now began to feel that he was in a positive nest of it. He said no more. , When the- other inspector, whose name w r as Bain, got to Denbridge and found Barbour had gone back to London, he informed Scotland Yard and gave a description of him. He also gave to the man at the other end the story of the extraordinary case on which he was working. From this man the story reached one, of the crime journalists who keep in close touch with the Yard, and soon the evening papers were in full song, and the reporters were en route for Stone Town. A band of them arrived in Money village by an afternoon train, and astonished that remote place by their requests for accommodation. The village could not hold them all, and some were forced to go to Denbridge. From the crime writer’s point of view, i was there ever such a perfect murder? Everything, was there—the old grey farm, the novelty of the scarecrow, the romantic figure of Jill in.the background and the entertaining rural characters on the farm. Stone Farm was not to go short of publicity for a long time to come. The.’-news that - Phillip Barbour .had gone - ta London had boen a shock to Jill, for he had not mentioned it to her as she would have had the police believe. She coukld not think that he was connected with the murder. She Preferred to think he had gone to avoid er embarrassment after what she considered her foolish breakdown of the previous evening. . Mark, of course, was inwardly They were therefore both surprised when, late in the afternoon, the tall figure of Phillip Barbour strode into the farmyard. It was a triumph for Jill against Mark, for Phillip would surely not have returned if there were a chance of his being implicated. CHAPTER XIV. Barbour’s Return. After greeting Jill and Mark, Barhour made his apologies for not calling earlier at the farm. (( . “ As a matter of fact, he said, l had an urgent business call to London, so I caught the first available train. . Mark gave a shrug of disinterest. “ It couldn’t have taken you long, he said, “ seeing that you’re back so soon.” ~ ' Barbour affected not to notice the snub, and replied quite blandly: “ No, I agree with you, except that 1 did not stay in London to complete my business.” ... Then ho turned to Jill, and said: “I came Straight back to see if .1 could be of any use to you, Miss Merridew. I was astonished when I saw the lunch-time newspapers and read of the terrible happenings here, especially after—after our being together quite late last evening, when everything seemed peaceful.” He shot a glance at Jill as he spoke the last words, but Jill was looking the other way, perhaps deliberately. ' “ That—that’s awfully kind of you,” she said, “ but I don’t quite see how you can help. There’s only one way anybody can help me at present, and that is to tell me what all this is about. I shall go mad soon if I don’t .find out something about it. We don’t even know who the. man is.” She then told, him about the burglary which had occurred after he had left her on the previous night. Ho had, however, read about it in the paper, for the officer Bain had told Scotland Yard about that, too, and it had duly been rushed into print. “ Perhaps we can have a quiet talk about it soon,” said Barbour presently. “It is a most mysterious affair. Whatever could that fellow have been doing, dressed up in scarecrow’s clothes? ” “ Watching the farm, of course,” said Mark, bestowing a pitying smile on his rival. Jill noticed it, and her anger surged up anew. The truth was that Mark, in spite of her regard for him, was now grating upon her nerves. He had the unfortunate knack of saying the very things which displeased her. He could not have done it better even had he been trying. “Yes, 1 gathered he was watching the farm,” replied Barbour. “ Pretty obvious.” Then he turned again to Jill. “ Anyway,” he said, “ we’ll have a quiet talk about it, as I suggested.” “ Yes,” replied Jill. “ I’m going indoors now. Perhaps you’ll come with me.” She did not extend the invitation to Mark, and Barbour had the satisfaction of seeing the latter’s face cloud with anger and disappointment as he accepted his dismissal from Jill. Whilst Barbour and Jill walked toward the house, Mark returned to the farm buildings vowing inwardly to be even with Barbour though it took a lifetime. Uppermost in his mind was the fact shat JilJ had galled hug g oad. The

feeling that she had some justification only tended to aggravate matters. His thoughts were interrupted by Inspector Norton, who came up to him with the air of one who seeks a friend in the hour of- need. ■ “ Look here, Mr Hanson,” he said, “ I’ve known you some little time, so 1 don’t mind asking you—what do you know about this, Mr Barbour?” “ A damned sight too much,” answered Mark grimly, thus leading the inspector to think lie was barking up the right tree at last. He was soon disillusioned, however, when Mark told him that he knew nothing about him whatever, except that he was a friend of Jill’s, and that Mark’s retort had referred to Barbour pottering about the farm. “ Very well,” said Norton conclusively, “ then I shall go and have a word with him myself. I believe he is visiting Miss Merridew just now.” “ Good idea,” exclaimed Mark, encouragingly. So saying, the inspector strode across to the house and was just in time to interrupt Jill’s and Phillip's tete-a-tete as soon as it had begun. When Phillip Barbour heard that the inspector wished to see him, he hastened to reassure Jill, wdiose concern was noticeable in her frightened, questioning expression. “It’s quite all right,” he said, confidently. “ You see I am comparatively a stranger here. It is quite natural that they should wish to question me.” Jill smiled at him in return. She was growing very weary, and somehow Barbour had become a comfort to her —almost her only comfort. The position into which she and Mark had drifted was one which could not readily be altered, though she missed his quiet, reliant advice more than she cared to admit. Still, on the top of other things, she could not pardon the remark which he had made about Barbour.

Gloomily, she could see a coming clash between the two men. This she must avert at all costs, and she discussed with herself the advisability of extracting a promise from Mark not to ruffle the other’s feelings so persistently. Barbour had said nothing about it, probably for her sake, but she knew that, when it came,' the anger of a patient man was worse than any other. Yes, she would appeal to Mark’s better nature, even in these difficult circumstances, to keep the peace. She little knew that Mark had already decided to do nothing of the kind. The more he thought of tbo matter the more he saw that it was going to be impossible for him to continue at Stone Town. That being so, he did not intend to leave without getting a little of his own back from this man who had so unexpectedly and so inconsiderately walked across his path. His pugnacity was as elemental as that of a stag in autumn. “ I’ll get even with that flashy fellow: before I’ve done, if the police don’t do it for me,” he said to himself. “I wish that old devil. George, would let me know what’s in his mind. He knows something.” But George . was not yet in a communicative mood, as Mark discovered when, a little later, he tried again to get the old man to speak. ‘You must leave all to me, Master Hanson,” he said. “ I know what I’m a-doing. They’re after summat, and I know what it is.” “Who are ‘they’?” “ A lot of ’em,” said George. “ That man found dead in the field was one of ’em, and you see what he got.” “Who gave it to him?” asked Mark. “ Ah, that would he telling again,” said Old George, with a quiet cackle through his whiskers. “ Dead men tell no tales, and live ones have to be carefid. Anyhow, there he was in the field at a time when honest men should be abed and rogues had no business out.” “ You were pretty late yourself,” Mark could not resist saying as he thought of George’s spying through the window of Stone Town. “ Ah, but you see I had Tieen out after an ’are.” “Oh, confound you and your 1 hares,’ ” Mark exclaimed, half laughing. “ What about that tobacco box of yours that was found under the body?” “That’s what I’d like to know. Why, you’d think that ossifer thought I’d killed the poor chap myself, and him coming all the way from foreign parts, too.” Mark gave a gasp of astonishment- “ D’you mean to say you know what the man was?” he asked George. “ Got a good idea,” said George, “ but it don’t do for me to say anything. That inspector will find it all out for you if yon leave him alone. Clever chap, that.” “ I wonder if he’s as clever as you are,” said Mark. “It seems to me that you are holding back a great deal, and 1 can’t understand why. You said you don’t need money, and I’ve told you you can get as many hares as you like, so far as I am concerned, and I’ve told you that you have a duty to Miss Jill. How can I persuade you to put your cards on the table? Why can’t you go and tell Miss Merridew about it at once?” “ Because she’s too concerned about other things—like that Mr Barbour,” said George, with a slight touch of malice. “ Leave him out,” said Mark. “ See, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If you’ll tell Miss Jill what you know I’ll give up my cottage so that you can have it for the rest of your days. I know you ve aways wanted it.” A ■ definite glimmer of interest showed on George’s face. “ Well, as I told you before, Master Hanson,” he said, “ there’s hardly any kind o’ bribe I could take, being an old man and wanting nothing, but your cottage do interest me. But what would you do yourself? Y T ou got to live somewhere near the farm, and I m mortal sure you wouldn’t live in mine, with all them rats in the thatch and the rain cornin’ through.” “ Oh, I’ve got somewhere else in mind. Y T ou wouldn’t need to worry about me.” “ All right, then,” said George, “ I’ll think it over and let you know. And don’t get thinking too much about that ’bacea-box. I can look after myself when it comes to that. So saying, old George hobbled away. “ And he’s got another place where he can-live, has he?” he muttered to himself. “ Now, I know what that means. It means he’s not going to stay here much longer. In a way I don’t blame him. She’s gone and took up with that Mr Barbour, and the farm’s become more like a circus than

a farm, what with one thing and another. But it won’t do for him to go. Farm’s going down as it is, and he’s the only chap who can pull it round. And as for Mr Barbour, well, that little affair won’t last long if I know anything about it; Who’d think a frimula could cause all this trouble—burglaries, murders, and broken hearts!” And certainly it was the formula—frimula, George called it —which was at the root ot all the troubles which had of late befallen Stone Town, with the exception of the decline of the farm. Even that had been accentuated since Mr Barbour had come and had distracted the already over-occupied mind of Mark Hanson. It had been enough for Mark to love Jill without a rival. With a rival, as he put it, his brain was running on one cylinder, and that boded ill for Stone Town. “ I could strangle that old rascal,” he said as he watched George’s retreating figure, “If 1 didn’t know that he was old Jasper Merridew’s greatest confidant, I should think he was a mass of pretence. And if only I could find out what is among Jasper’s papers myself, there might be a chance of solving all these happenings. That Barbour is after something is clear, and it looks as though the man in scarecrow’s' clothes was after the same thing, unless he was one of Barbour’s crowd. And there’s Jill gone and fallen in love with him. What a mess!” The wish that he knew of the quest of Phillip Barbour and perhaps others, led his mind into a channel which alarmed him. Why should he not attempt to look over old Jasper’s papers? It was an impulse which he thrust away at once, but it was one which ho felt certain would return. (To be continued.)