HIS FATHER'S SON.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLV, Issue 13868, 30 September 1908, Page 10

HIS FATHER'S SON.

»:-:•... TUBMSHED .BT SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

BY TOM GALLON, anther of " Tattcrley," "Dicky Moiiteith. -."'Kiddy." "A Koruo in Love." "Fates . ■ . Beggar Maid," "The Charily , ■ Ghost." etc.

SYNOPSIS. The guests have separated after the dinner • vhii-h celebrate!* .John Baxendale's Inheritance of n * fori inn-. ;unJ ho li.-is fold. Kvelvn Kaylor. the beautiful <jirl he is to marry. that he has not. a Varc'in ' the world. Yet 'there is a strange totebodinsr of coming ill. lie. feels practically certain that someone is prowling about the K'oumls When the !a.«t guest has retired Felix Oxide, the family lawyer, begins the unfolding ■ of the sinister secret which is to alter the whole .m- tenor of John Baxendale's life. In . revenge for " "t wrong which Ilia father did to a woman named Johanna (ridge she had stolen awav one of twin Jims, leaving the awful message that, just as her ■ "■if" had passed into darkness and evil, so should 'lis. lip should be educated, and yet trained to > life of infamy. That brother of John Baxendaie nay now at. any "time confront htm. This story » toid him at his father's request, under his trine -injunction that it shall be preserved a — —•- - —■ - Baxendaie, when on the way to his room, hears » sound' in "file drawing-room'.' " Entering, and eoinp to one of the windows, lie confronts and frizes a burglar, to find himself face to face with - « a man in his own likeness. , Then John Baxendaie does a dramatif thing. Inquiry convincing him that this man is'his own brother, he astonishes him with the assurance that he proposes to divide equally the inheritance between them on the sole condition that the lieu coiner leaves the . country, and keeps the . ie«ret. * CHAPTER ll.—(Continued.) .... .Towards morning the old man awoke, and ' apologised for 'having troubled, his young ...1i0.5C,., and went off. to his room. In due ', lie drove away in the dog-cart- to .the. .station: and. John Basendale went 'through , the day"as best lie

-.•'.' could- until the time came for him to pay .'„',' a- , sit to that mysterious place known as • -•- -.-Middleion's Rents-, Lambeth. - •; *" As ho had promised, .he lunched with •■ Kvelyu-and her aunt, and afterwards walkT l '. y'&ll.in, the woods* with Evelyn. . But he scarcely knew what he said to her, and ho answered her.remarks; merely at random; .■ lor lie was thinking of that other man who had gone limping out of the house the night before— man who walked in the w image *of John Baxendale,. and? was destin"ed to play some part in the' fife arid history of John Baxendale. It was a .curious ■ feeling that Baxendale had: that thought that of himself he was not complete, and could not, as other men. take his placein .-£ the world on the strength of his own per- '■ sonality. He did not like that at all. Late in the afternoon, taking no luggage with him, and saying nothing to anyone, he set off for London. A few people saw him ,at the station, and knew him; the s-tationmaster and a porter or two touched . their caps as young Mr. John Baxendale took his place in the \ train. But in Lon- ... don no one knew him,, and he, went out * ; - of the great terminus and into the streets, and became a unit among myriads of other ■ units, -'.;..■ 1 With some difficulty he found Middleton's Rents vile slum in the midst of mean and narrow streets. He was looked at curiously, and a constable of whom he asked the way glanced at his questioner for a moment, and murmured a warning. "Best l>e careful 'ow you go down there, sir," said the mam "They're a tough lot there?. I'lrkeep an eye on the Rents. If • you- don't come out again, I'll get a mate, an' we'll 'ave a look for you." .John Baxendale found the house, asked "1 i°r Airs., Cridge, 'was directed up a filthy, common staircase. Ho knocked on a door, and entered a room; saw an old woman bending over a fire, • despite the ,".'■'■ heat of the room, and. a couple of men . at a window. Turning > quickly -as he, got the room, he came face to - ' face with his brother Rufus. '.'. . "Ah! there you are," he said. "They ~ c seem suspicious of you outside. There's "a 2 constable waiting at the' top of the court. '.' ,He says if I don't com© out soon, he and 2'. 'another, constable will come down to look ; for me. >Of a course;, :be doesn't under- .;|: ' stand • ' ' ' ; i■•':.". Rufns Cridge was making signs to some- "*" one behind. "As John Baxendale turned ho :"■" i* ■.-' suddenly received a crashing blow, that seemed to cause the old woman at the fire, and the two men at the window, and the w. .broken table, to gyrate and dance, and then to come tumbling all about him. . He tried to ' cryvout.;;. ; 4itrove* to save himself from . falling. "Then the room was blotted out, ind he seemed lo sink j away and away into some dark* depths* inat had no ending. "Now, then, what the deuce are you . standing about there for?" demanded .Cridge,,;, swiftly.,. "Get these "clothes off;.; ..;,.',l've got- to change with him in a couple of ■■';,,v M .minutes, i unless we want the police down - -' : Hurry,' now !"/••/- '''■■?. , vi. ~.,Rapidly ; they stripped the unconscious - man, while Rufus Cridge, chuckling to him- »'» »• self, rtore off his own clothes, and donned " those that belonged to John Baxendale. - *. ' ■ CHAPTER HI. .The woman seated by the fire had not moved, save to glance round once, when .John Baxendale was struck down. She turned now, and regarded this transformed • Uufus Cridge affd the prostrate:man*on the fioor. Raising Her head to look at him, she displayed a face'.old and wrinkled, but which must at one time have been one of . _ '•-. striking beauty; the eyes still held some of their oTd fire and lustre. She called out sharply to Cridge. .'- .'■ " ■ "' y ""Don't stand there. .. Get away to your work; ,you, know what »vou -have -to do," 'shVexclaimed." " This is the chance of your life; go and seize it." "Don't you worry about me, mother," gaid Rufus-. adjusting John Baxendale's hat carefully bhjhis own head.'... ■' "It was a wonderful bit of .luck that I should start :>ff— on my own account—to crack my '■■•; •': own crib, as it were., I've told you what happened. Tins wonderful brother of mine"—he spurned the prostrate figure with.his foot—"actually offered to share everything with me—on condition that I went abroad! I think I see myself going abroad—after having been cheated of my birthright for a quarter of a century. I've been the sport of others so far; now the gome is in my hands, and I can do what I ;■;,' like:" .' ■■■:''

"And we shall all live 'appy ever afterwards !" exclaimed one of the men who had .<;. been lounging at; the window when John Baxendale first came in—an old man, with ragged grey hair and a venerable grey : beard. " Because we're all ia -it, Rufus, • ■ know." ■ "": " Trust Amos Voles to make the most of ;. the business and to look after his share of '. the plunder," said Cridge, with a laugh. ".Well, jperhaps you're right; we've had ~j hu lean times long enough, and the fat ones mo coming. Arid we'll all share we'll all .'. -:i- have the .times —in a certain propor- '; "**■'•' lion."'-- ■'■■■- ■"■'• '-■ ' 11 :::.. :"--?k* °M woman kid risen from her chair by the fire. She walked across the room to where Rufus Cridgo stood. With no tenderness about her, she took him by the plbows, a^t)jr^ed^him tonnd, and then oack again, examining him "etoselv. The two men who had assisted in the business I ~,. drew back', half in fear and half in respect ■,: cor her. ~..,;,■' ,;, _, v . ~- . '""'./"lt's a great "game," said the woman at last; " and '-ou've been well trained for it 0 Rufus.. Don't forget your lesson. The house of Baxendale begins from to-day <to go downhill the new John Baxendale be- ;. gins to go the pace, and starts that great . frame of drags-ring the name of Baxendale in ,!,be,dust. I spit-upon Baxendale! I leave •'•« *«you to 'the- work you have"'do." By the .memory ,of , the dead child—poor thing' of ;U .shame!-— I held in my arms, and whose .'"•Tjpiace you took, I send you out to do your -'""'' work—and to do your worst. Go!" j .':She touched him lightly on the breast, as if in a sort of uncannv benediction then , turned ouickly to the other men. ■'.' -"•Put the old clothes on him," she said, indicating the unconscious Baxendale. " We -■'■- must have a Rufus Cridge in the - house, to iihow if necessary.' , ' '' Good-bye,'"* mb'theri" said Cridge, putties an arm for .a'TOoment; carelessly round 'the old woman's shoulders, and kissing her. "You &)hallliear*fr6m'me'in day or ,two; I won't forget. The first person I have to ■'.'.'■' pass is the constable at the en 4 of the . court. He's a little afraid that something :n*iv have happened to John Baxendale. I'll >■ convince him that his fears were ground- ■,'■■•' ';■ av-'

, less. Do I look all right? Am I the man that came into this plate a' quarter of an hour ago? - Look, me over carefully." " in., exclaimed the old woman again. And Rufus Cridge, subduing himself to. the new character he had to nlav. went out of the room, and down the stairs into the court. At the end of the court he was careful to nod to the constable (who had hitherto regarded : him, in the character of Rufus Cridge, as a man -<> be watched) and to itssure that astute officer that all was well with him. "You were afraid I shouldn't come buck, eh?" he said, slipping a coin into the man's hand. "They're a. rough lotbut. I wasn't to lie frightened, by them. Good-night to you!" "And good-night, to you, sir," said the constable, touching his ■ helmet. '" There's one of 'em that's about as tough a lot as you could come across —been iu our 'a.uds goodness knows 'ow many times. Rufus Cridge is the man I mean, sir." "I know the chap you mean. You keep an eye on him," said Mr. Cridge: and s;>, with a nod to the. constable, departed. In a sense, Rufus Cridge may bo said to have shared those feelings, in a larger way, that had belonged to John Baxendale at an earlier period of 'the day, only that in this case the man had stepped out of an old husk, as it were butterfly from out a grub. He thrust bis hands ; into his pockets and fingered the money there, and a bunch of key,* that belonged properly to Baxendale; remembered, with a feeling of relief, how easily ho had been mistaken for Baxendale on the previous night, and began 'to understand that there was tin easy prospect before him, and that life generally had taken a newer and a better shape. It was for him to make the best of it. Night had fallen, and all London was before him as it had never been before: he had money to spend, and he had unlimited credit. Tho thoughts of the man turned to certain low haunts where, as Rufus Cridge. he was well known. He pictured himself dinging money about ' among old ' shady cronies, and cutting a. dash generally. I But that would not do. "Rufus Cridge was I left behind in Middleton'a Rents, and was | to bo accounted for there: this new John Baxendale had to be careful of what he did. I He determined to go to a first-class hotel j Tor the night, and to-morrow to take up his j new position as John Basendale, of Baxendale Hall. •

Difficulties beset him at the outset. His sole strength lay in the extraordinary likeness to hi« brother; and to that power ho had not yet become used. He knew that at any moment he might brush against a man in the street who knew John Baxendale well, and who would expect to be greeted as a friend. In point of fact," that was exactly what happened: for when, in the course of the evenuig, Rufus Cridge visited ! a music-hall,' a hand was suddenly clapped upon Ins shoulder, and a man who was an utter stranger to him greeted him laughingly. "My dear Baxendale, who in the world would have thought of finding you in such a place as this?" said the man, who was in evening dress, and who was evidently one of a small and rather festive party. "There are quite a lot of fellows here yon know. They've heard all about the coming-of-age business and what not. We'll make a nijjht of it." • "JChanks— I can't do that," said Ctidge, backing away nervously. "The truth of the matter is I'm in London solely on business. I've only looked in here for half-an-hour. So you'll have to excuse me, please." "Why—what's come over you?" exclaimed the other man. "Prosperity doesn't seem to agree with you. You used to be very different—" Rufus Cridge got away from him, with muttered excuses, and "left the building. Outside in the street 'he thrust John Baxen- , dale's bat from off Iris forehead and breathed heavily, and looked with a startled face into this new question as he Had not looked before. Tho game interested him— very danger of it appealed to him; but itl was such a matter of fighting in the dark. " Now I come to think of it, I wish I'd j taken what ha had to offer and cleared out," said Cridge to himself. "Too late now. He's not likely to forgive me for his reception at our' hands. Why the deuce did I listen to the old .woman? Why did I plunge into this business without counting the chances more carefully? Besides, when he conies to himself—" He went striding- away through the streets, trying to gain control over himself —striving to formulate some plan for his future conduct. Tito Rufus Cridge that had been so unexpectedly cast aside kept doing things that John Baxendale would not have —obtruded himself in the .walk of John Baxendale . and in John Baxendale's manners. Thus, when Rufus Cridge wanted to think about some matterhe leant against a wall, and thrust his hat on the back of his head in the. old Rufus Cridge fashion, forgetful that he was an , exceedingly well-dressed young man, and not the loafer he had been. It was after | recovering himself 'from one of those deep i thinking fits that he suddenly smote one fist into the palm of the other band, and laughed aloud as a new thought occurred to ■him. ■ ;■;.■■.. "By Jove! I'd forgotten that that which changes me changes him," he exclaimed aloud. "There is a John Baxendale .in the world— a Rufus Cridge; and I'm the John Baxendale! When he comes to himself he is in Rufus Oridge's home, and in Rufus Cridge's clothes. If lie puts his shabb" head outside Middleton's Rents „every;,'constable will know him for Rufus Cridcre. Wliat the deuce liave I got to be afraid of?" -

His difficulties were magnified on the following moraing, when, as John Baxendale, he 'had to make his way to' the "little town of Deepington, and to Baxendale Hall. Here he know he was coming to close quarters with the enemy; for this would be no place for chance encounters, but a place where everyone knew him, and would know,all about him. He thought about. that in the train on the journey down, for lie knew that lie was entering a place where John'Baxendale had been known as a- child and a boy and a man for a quarter of a- century, and where lie was, in a sense, the chief personage. And in that time John Baxendale- had. made friends and doubtless enemies; and this new John Baxendale must take his place, arid know all about the game from the beginning. Much must be left to- chance; perhaps the extraordinary luck that had attended him in his first venture would stick to him throughout.. At Deepington station an obsequious porter opened * the door of the . carriage, and "> touched his cap to . the apparent John, Baxendale. Rufus Cridge, looking ', quickly round, wondered if by any ■ chanea. there was anyone to be met here or to be greeted; saw with relief thai> the'station was comparatively clear. He was quick enough to; understand, however, that as the house was some considerable distance from the railway some vehicle should have been in attendance to meet him; that was a point he had omitted to take into consideration. Properly, of course, he should have telegraphed; now there was nothing for it but. to make the best of the business, and to walk. The stationmaster . had a pleasant word to say to the young man, and asked if he was expecting anything to.be sent from the hall. Rufus shook his head, and said that he intended to walk. He had an unpleasant feeling that as he went out of 'the station yard the stationmaster and the porter were looking after him. curiously. In . that he was deceived. Their solo interest in him lay in a feeling of surprise at the extraordinary gruifness of .manner assumed by the usually pleasant and genial John Baxendale.' He came at last to the lodge gates, and turned into the long drive leading to the house. And then for the first time the craven fear of the man who on that other night had crept through the shadows and had broken into the house swept over him, and almost made him turn back. : For he heard in the distance again that baying of the hounds that he had heard before shivered when he remembered how he had trembled at the thought that they might be loose and might hunt him down and tear at him. He was glad to think they were charaed; he went on again with renewed confidence.

But the dogs were: loose after all. He did nofc.fully realise that until; he had come within a short distance-of the house, and met a. groom riding, with three or four great dogs leaping and playing about him and the horse. They saw this John Baxendale walking. With joyous barks they made start at him. And then in a moment the first of them stopped, sniffed suspiciously, and drew back; bared his teeth in. a snarl, and started barking fiercely, circling

with the others round the man, who kept his crafty ova" upon them. As the groom rode up, one'of them, bolder than the others, made a savage -leap sideways, and almost caught (.'ridge by the arm. " Here—beat these brutes off exclaimed Cridge, backing away from the dogs, .and making a out at one of them with a light cane he carried. "Beat them off, I say!" The groom, in-utter bewilderment, rode straight in among the doge, beating them off with his whip, and crying to them loudly. Ho kept, his eyes on his master, looking at him in a strange, hesitating manner, as though ho did not understand this inordinary turn of events.

" W'y—wot's come over 'em, sir?" he exclaimed. "It looks almost as if they didn't know vott, sir. 1 never saw anything like it." .."':"'.

" Send them back to the house and fasten, them up. See they're not loosed again," said Ruths Cridge." shaking from head to foot. " Understand that I hold yon responsible for them. If any of them are loosed again they shall be shot. Now, take them Ivick to the..house'." . The;man. a little hurt, on his own account, touched. hat sulkily, and plied his .whip savagely among the dogs, and son! them before him:up towards the house. Rufus Cvidge leant against a tree, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat from his face. Ho'had evidently been badly frightened. ■",'■■ "1 don't like this," he muttered to himself. "It's a bad .beginning! It's a mighty bad beginning!" (To be continued daily.)