“BURNT WINGS"

Hawera Star, Volume XLVII, 24 October 1928, Page 4

“BURNT WINGS"

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS.

KATHLEEN DOONE lives with her. sister and her brother Harry, a young man in tlic’ Bank at it own lucre. Whilst* out lionet suckle, Kathleen falls and sprains her ankle. - . . . . ■ KPPY SMITH, a tramp, helps her b\ stopping a passing motor, in which is , PETER BRENT, nephew ot SIR HORACE HOPPER, ot Hoppers Mill. Peter takes Kathleen home and is introduced to Mary, who keeps house lor her sister and broJEREMIAH WESTON is manager oiloppor s Mill. He is very unpopuREGdNALD DEAUVILLE, a cleric at Hopper’s Mill, is dismissed by tVeston, thus arousing Deauville’s bitter enmity. Deauville obtains possession of a letter intended for Sir Horace Hopper. The news contained in it promises to be a considerable souice of revenue to him. He meets Eppj Smith and pays him to take the letter to Sir Horace, saying he had found it in the road.

CHAPTER IV

When Mary Doone saw Peter Brent Aiming up the garden path with his arms full of flowers her eyes shone with joy and an involuntary blush irradiated her beautiful face. “Kutliv will be delighted,’ she' cxdaiuied as she took the tragraxit olooms from t-cter’s hands. “She is • ery 'much better to-day, and 1 know she simply adores roses—and honeysuckle too,” she added -rapturously, Linking in their penume. ~ ‘ The honeysuckle is tor you, explained Brent, smiling at her enthusiasm.

•iJ'or me?” “Yes. 1 couldn’t iorg.et that your sister was getting honeysuckle lor you when- she had her accident, and this x>rt or completes the errand, doesn t it ’

“So this is the knight-errant!’’ exclaimed Harry Doone, entering ana shaking hands with Peter. “J 'e met f -ou be foie, I believe. . iMliuiy thanks or looking utter my sister ” “No the thanks are all on my side,” laughed Peter. “I’ve seen you at your Kirkchester office, ami 1 m jolly- glad of the opportunity to meet you again and your charming sisters. .Murmuring her thanks, Mary disappeared to take the flowers to the invalid. . . “May we come in?” asked Harry, capping at the door a lew moments later. , , “Sorrv I can’t get up to thank you, Mr. Brent,” said Kathleen as they (entered “hut my hig sister mu t let me.” . , . , , ~ “And your big sister s quite right, laughed Peter as he shook her extended Tiand. , T, . 4 ‘There you arc, 1 agrcod dan*), ‘Mary knows what s best ior you, particularly as you want to go in lor the tennis tournament.” “I’d like to be there and watch the plav if I'm allowed.” ‘‘You can come with us. ’ cried Kathleen, impulsively, “unless you d rather— —” ... . ' . , . “I shall be delighted,” mterjeeted Peter. “By the way. 1 believe my untie is a "director of the club, isn’t he? Sir Horr.ce Hopper, you know. “Is Sir Horace your uncle? Oh, ves, we know him well. He’s a great sport. He gives the Hopper Cup every vear, and one has to hop to win it, I can tell you. All the girls love him. tie generally has a .big box of chocolates" with him when he comes down to the pavilion, and hands them round. He’s an awfully nice mail.” “Have I to toll him all this?’ laughed Peter. “It’ll make him horribly conceited.” , . “Good heavens, no!’’ cxclauued Kathleen. “Mop are conceited enough without— — “Kathy, Katliy, don’t run on so, child!” cried Mary. “Of course, piesent company excepted,” added Kathy, with a glance at Peter.

“This is what i have to put up with,” said Harry, "hut it rolls oil like water oil a- duck s hack. And ! don’t even have the hackneyed, ‘present company’ business tacked on to “A pair of silly kills,” laughed Mary, as she went to- arrange flic dowers. Time passed so. quickly in the congenial company of the Dodnes, that it was late before Peter Brent set out at a good speed to cover the five miles that separated him irom home. The ear responded grudgingly to the turn of the steering wheel, owing to the wet surface, hut as it was only a by-road with practically no traffic late at night, he did not worry unduly.

On the border of the town, not tar from Sir Horace Hopper’s residence, five roads converge in a newly-built garden suburb. Sounding the hooter once, more from habit than anything else, the ear came simultaneously round the bend, to find a huge agricultural wagon lumbering slowly across.

Peter jammed on the brakes, the ear slid across the wet limestone road as though shot from a catapult, caught a. heap of stones, and turned voinpletel.v over, piling itself up in a mass of wreckage, with I’cter Brent heipless underneath. S r Horace Hopper was "ell known as a patron o: the Arts. It was said that his present wife had been a leading lady in one of his many theatrical ventures, but as be had financed so many —more or less, .successful —none of the local busybodics knew for certain what she "'its before she became Lady Hopper. Loth she and Sir Horace subscribed five guineas every year to the Kirkchester Dramatic Society until it had ceased to exist, but neither had taken any personal part in its activities. This had been a. great disappointment to Reggie Deauville. He was soon to learn, however, that local talent had no prestige with Sir Horace. Reggie had only seen him once, and then it was when the mill-owner bad come down to the office to complain about something connected with the business. Reggie Deauville was reflecting on these tilings as be walked somewhat mechanically up the road. He had waited about for sonic time after the tramp had departed.' but his patience

By G. Herbert Teague.

disappeared with the daylight, and he ,elt that a bstroll and a long think would ild him good'. Although lie had lost his job only that day he realised the need for action if ho ; did not want to find Ids i small savings gone and' himseli still unemployed. Deep in the contemplation ol various schemes, he was startled by- a loud shout, the erratic Hashing of powerful lights, which transformed the hedgerows into black silhouettes, and the \ ioleiit plunging of a horse’s hoofs on the shining road. Running quickly round the bond ho saw a motor-car -capsized with the two near side wheels collapsed and the others still spinning in the air. Remarkably enough, and fortunately’, the electric lamps had not gone out when the accident happened, and when the alarmed carter had quietened his horse he rushed forward to help Reggie to extricate the young man from under the car. “Good heavens, it’s young Brent, cried Deauville. “Quick, man. We must put him in your wagon and get him home. This is Sir Horace Hopper’s nephew.” The bewildered carter obeyed mechanically. He was too dazed ior tonerent thought. “Poor lad, I’ve killed him!” he wailed, as they lilted the unconscious .orm into the wagon. “Oh, dear, dear, dear! Killed him dead! But it wasn’t my fault. It ’’ "No; that’s all right,’’ murmured Peter as lie sat up holding his head. “L ought to have steadied at the bend, dub you shouldn’t sprawl all over the .oad.” Although no hones were broken, lie was qu.te satisfied to be taken home in the Cart. “I m too shaky to walk,” he- said, “but otherwise Pin all right. ±,O you know where to. take me?” Reggie told' him that he knew Sir Horace well, having been employed at the oil ice of the mill. He didn’t mention his* discharge from that position. The servants were more alarmed than Lady Hopper wheii the little party arrived at the house. She left tile outward expression of emotion to the “lower orders,” and was careful to note that her husband’s nephew could walk indoors with the assistance 0.. Reggie and the carter. The latter, with many excuses, explained how the car came suddenly upon him before lie knew Jt TO was near. •Pm very sorry’ indeed,” he/ added, “bub it wasn’t my fault, I'm sure.” “That’s quite all right.” agreed Peter generously. “It was entirely my own fault. It was rather late, and Pm atraid l let her rip too much.”

Lady Hopper asked the carter to see about the car being moved to a garage lor repairs, and handed him a new pound note as he left the house, at tho same time thanking him for all the trouble he had taken.

“Will you accept this?” she asked, offering the same amount to. Reggie. “I didn’t catch your name?” “Reginald Deauville, madam.” The smile vanished from the face of Lad.v Hopper and she regarded him intently. Then she took a deep breath and thanked him in a voice that was perhups a shade unsteady. “It was very kind of you. Mr.—cr— Deauville, very’ kind. I shall not forget it.” As her ladyship retired,, Reggie prepared to leave. After lie had rung the hell for a. maid to show the visitor out, Peter pushed a 10s note into the hand of the astonished Reggie. “To get a few cigarettes with,” Jie whispered as lie shook hands and wished him a grateful good-bye. In the privacy of her boudoir Lady Hopper stood motionless in the centre of flic room, gazing abstractedly into space. “Deauville,” she repeated to herself. “Reginald Deauville! It can’t be. . I -wonder. . .

CHAPTER. V. Reggie Deauville walked down the drive as though on air. He had a mad desire to dance and sing, as lie felt the two Treasury notes in, liis pocket. “Thirty bob!” lie murmured. “Thirty bob! Money for jam!” Expecting to meet Eppy Smith somewhere about, he walked hack along the direct road to the centre of the town. He was not disappointed. That restless person was ambling slowly towards him, alternately visible and invisible as he passed in and out of the rays .ol the street lamps. As the tramp came across, Reggie oozed cordiality. “How did you get on?” lie inquired. “’Arf a dollar!” “Good Did lie say anything?”

“Thanked me very much. It was very kind of me to take the trouble,” sniggered Eppy. “The ole toff’s all right. But, lumme! Them servants! Arsked me ’ow I dare come up the steps, an’ me bein’ a. pal to the ole bloke in a manner o’ speakin’!” “All. that’s your clo’es,” said Reggie sapiently. Clo’es make all the difference to what people Think of yer. Yer can ask for things with a clean collar on that yer can’t otherwise, as ver might say.” “Yus, I’ve noticed it.”

“Then, of course, there’s other tlii ll "ts that count. A clean collar, to do it properly, should have a -clean shave to go with i! W lien 1 was movin’ in Bohemian circles in London I’ve seen man.v a heated argument over such things. 1 remember once a very excited discussion at a little place in Dean Street when ——” “Good ole West!” exclaimed Eppy. “D’ver know London?” asked Reggie with interest. “Not ’arf! I was up at the Garden —Covent Garden —for a long time until l ’nrt me wrist, an’ T ain’t bin able to any ’aril work since. You arst anybody up there if they knows Eppy Smith.”

“Kppy?” queried Deauville. ‘‘Yes, (short for itpsOm. You see, my farver won a pot o’ money the year I wus horn, an’ called' me ” “Oh) I see,” was the laughing response. “My name’s Reginald Deauville. Known to all the boys and girls round Solio as Reggie, who are sorry I’ve deserted ’em for office life in this ’ole. But I’m goin' back soon now. Well, as J was savin’,” lie resumed, “one man said that next to a clean collar and a clean chin, a clean collar and an unshaven chin was better than a dirty collar and a clean chill.” “Well, I don’t know,” grinned Eppy. “Such things don’t bother me. I ain't got much use for either—now.

Yer see, I. still got n ragged <oat, an— —” , ' “I’ve got a coat an trousers 1 can give yer,” said Reggie, generously“No use, my friend, no use. was tlie dramatic reply, as Eppy placed in's hand on his companion s shonli.ei • “H’w a rich uncle or gnm’farver 1 want —some decent ole hlokc wot s come tome from Orstrylier wiv’ a lot o’ bags o’ money lookin’ fer is favourite nevvy Epsom. That’s wot 1 want, Wot’s the good of ’ard work: “You’re like me,” said Reggie with a new interest. “You’ve the artistic temperament. I ’ate ard work, but believe in wearin’ a collar. “P’raps yore right,” agreed %T>.v slowly, “p’raps yore right, an’ 1 might ’ave it later.”

“All right, when you're ready,’’ answered Reggie. “I dare say I’ll be scein’ you again before long.” When Epsom Smith emerged from the common lodging-house next morning ho made for some of the quieter streets and commenced to sing hymns. Ho preferred hymns. .They were usually easier to sing, and they never became old-fashioned. He was in*futl song on this particular day when, coming down the- street in his direction, he saw -a man whose walk seemed familiar. Smith faltered in his song, stopped, and, cap in hand, met the man on the pavement. ‘ ‘Sparc a copper, guv’nor? he whined.

, The man took no notice, but looked ahead. “Spare a- copper, guy.’nor?” the tramp repeated, as lie walked beside the heedless citizen. “I’ve got something else to do.’’ was the angry retort, “Go away!” “Don t be ’ard, guv’nor,” persisted Smith, as lie quickened liis step in time with that of bis victim. 'Partie’ly on a friend from the same ’oiue town—yore old school pal Eppy.” The man turned a- frightened glance on him. “I don’t know you,” lie said, with a violence that quite failed to disguise his fear. 1 “Go away, or I’ll have you locked up!” “No. you won’t, Jerry Weston —not if you’re wise. I’ll call an’ see you to-morrow. Liiimne, what a find!” he muttered, as Weston disappeared into one qf the houses. (To be continued.)