LUCKY MR. LODER.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LV, Issue 13967, 28 September 1918, Page 2 (Supplement)

LUCKY MR. LODER.

BY GUY THORNE, Author of "When It Was Dark." "A lost Cause, Mo.

COPYRIGHT. BOOK 11. 1 CHAPTER 11.-(Continu«d.) In the back room where we were, there were all sorts of arms, and among them, lying upon blocks, was a huge punt gun, like a small cannon. Some Indian Rajah had ordered it for the purpose of slaughtering wild duck several hundred at a time. It was the biggest thing of its kind, so the gunmaker said, that he had: ever turned out. , i "It's very pretty," my companion mar* mured, and' then he bent down, and without the slightest effort lifted it to the; level of his chest and examined it as if, it were a walking stick. The shopman | sat down suddenly upon an adjacent chair. My mouth made a round 0. | Good heavens, you are as strong asj Sandow!" I said. I •'There will be much to do with guns down where we are going," lie remarked calmly, putting down hie burden, and at ( once my imagination was aflame again. , Guns! then it could not be the giant j ruby. Revolutions loomed large in my i ingenious mind. We went back to the hotel, and I found Pugmire had packed J mv bags. . j '"Well, this is a queer go, Pugr/iire. . I said. "I've been out with the Asiatic !gentleman— country he real!} belongs to I don't know, and haven't asked. I've ibeen buying pistols and a regular army: of things." I Pugmire qniotly lifted a serviceable little revolver from the side pocket of his coat. j ! " You, too, Pugmire I j "Present from the admiral, sir," said the little man with one of hie rare grins. I don't think I have described Pugmiro vet, and I might as well d. •">, now that he comes so prominently an.i vividly into my narrative. Fizure to yourself—as Mr. E. G. Wells would say— little, tough, wiry fellow, with perfectly-trained manners and no exuberance of speech or gesture whatever, close-cut, sandy hair coming down in a peak on the forehead a la Mephistopheles, shrewd green eyes with bushy black brows— extraordinary anomaly with his coloured hair—a mouth like a steel trap and the general expression of an exceedingly tenacious and well-educated ferret— neat ferret, for Pugmire's hands were always well-tended and he was shaved to the bone. His clothes were never out of order— such was the worthy brother of the great Stanley and one of the best and most faithful friends a man ever had in this world. " What do you think about it all, Pugmire?" I asked, sitting on the bed, for we were in plenty of time yet. "It's a rum go, sir," he said, "a very rum go? If you ask me, we're in for a bigger thing than either of us have any idea of—perhaps the biggest thing that is going on, secret-like, behind the scenes of the world at the present moment." " And yon don't regret coming in ?" " Can a duck swim, sir ?—begging your pardon. After you had gone, did you think it was likely I was going to spend the rest of my life serving Breakfasts and lunches and preparing baths for young gentlemen ? No, sir! I had already made up my mind to come and join you—that was why I was at Stanley's this morning." I was touched and pleased. "Thank you, Pugmire," I said, "I'll never forget that! And so all's well that ends well, and here we are launching out into the unknown." "I hope I may be permitted to congratulate you on your engagement, sir," said Pugmire. I flushed a little. " How did yon know?" I asked. He shook his head in a non-committal way, as much as to say that there was very little he didn't know. " Well, we'll go through together, whatever lies before us," I said. " Yes, sir. Hope your cigardie-case is filled, sir. The Wand they selj on the train is generally very much inferior to what you are accustomed to." There was a litt'e, cat-like noise at the door, and the ascetic, lily-like face of Mr. Chark appeared. "Honourable gentleman ready?" he murmured blandly. Honourable gentleman being perfectly ready, honourable gentleman and Mr. Chark, followed by honourable Pugmire, descended into the hall, found a taxi, and were driven to Paddington Station. The afternoon train for Exeter stood at the platform. Chark was making straight for it when I said, "What about the tickets?." but he only smiled to me to come on. When we got to the train a little surprise awaited me. A first-class carriage was reserved in the name which was certainly not that of anyone I knew. My friend seemed to have the tickets already, for he produced them from his waistcoat pocked with the same suggestion of parlour magic that I had noticed in all his movements. We got in, the guard locked the door— Pugmire travelled in a second-class carriage behind us—and the big train swung out. I lit my pipe and leant back in the seat. The heavy, lowering morning had given place to a bright and friendly afternoon. Even Willesden had a certain charm in the sun.. Well, here I was at last, really started upon my great adventure. The swift movement of the train made it a reality. I have always found that I can think better in a fast-going railway train than anywhere eke. Lots of people have told me the same thing. It certainly was so now. The procession of thelast three weeks went by with extraordinary colour and vividness, each separate piece seemed to fit into its place like a puzzle. lam no fatalist—at least I never was before—but now it seemed as if I could discern a definite design, cause and effect working with the inexorable precision of a machine to produce just this result— I was speeding west with an inscrutable ' Oriental, for what purpose could only dimly guess. Once or twice I glanced at Chark. His fragile-looking hands hung between his knees, his head was back against the cushions and his eyes were closed. He looked as if he had just the inside of a fortnight to live, and not the will to carry on as long as that. What secrets lay behind that extraordinary mask, I wondered. Who was this inexplicable being that ate like a coal-heaver on a bank holiday, looked like an orchid, and lifted the heaviest punt gun made as if it were a billiard-cue?

Then I thought of Admiral FitzSpain, so quiet, forceful, and debonnair. There was a man! Whatever we were engaged upon, one could have no scruples in being shipmates with him. Certainly, the people ha had got round him were no ordinary people. This Chark; Molly, so splendid, clever, and determined; little Pugmire, a man among men— I, myself, I reflected, could hardly be called an ordinary person, pace Mr. McPherson and the dean.

We were going to Exeter. Why Exeter of all places in the world ? 1 puzzled myself with this little problem for several minutes, and came to the conclusion that unless it was to assassinate the bishop, which was hardly likely, there could be no earthly reason for such a trio as ourselves going to such a place. I thought I would try Chark on the subjects. "I say, old chap," I remarked, "don't Jet me disturb you, but. . ." There wasn't any question'of disturbing Mark. At the very fir sound of mv voice his eyes had glided open. " You wish conversation?" he said "I am all attention." "Well, look here, we're pals now in this business -I thought that would be the best way to tackleliim-" I suppose you've nothing to tell me at all? find you, I don t want to force any confidence, but if it M permissible for you to throw a little light on our strange journev, we then drive away! ' Then he began to talk, ! don't Propose to reproduce Tus peculiar English all the way through.. It will be enough to indi cate it here and there. After 111, I very not speak Just like, myself,

. • *v .;-, A'-ix^y. "The honourable admiral," he began, "has asked me to till you a few do&ilj, ]\; First of all, what do you know of honour* '•■£ able Constantino Brandon?"*he said thesi' .v----last words in a wliisper like the rustle of silk and with an eye which suddenly i,, 'fPj came glittering recked upon the door lead. I ing into the corridor. ' aM "I know that he is in prison for man, ''*|| slaughter," I answered in a very low voice, W§ "There was a big case about it not bo : /M very long ago. I know, also, that he.ii : '%is my fiancee's father and is a distinguished /)■>? man." - i M " I tell you something about him," my J vis-a-vis replied, and this was the sab, <'.. stance of his information. While he was giving it me, there was a etrangs trans, formation in him. The languid manusfl went, the whole body seemed to be stif. | fened and become springy. He bent for, I ward in his seat until his face almosfa j touched mine, and the word? came from him in an even flow. If ever a man bi. licved in another, this one did in Constat I tine Brandcn. I It seems that #.anc!on was very well j known all over the world as a famous ox. I plorer and scientist. I "He staved, an honoured guest, at my ■ father's court," said Chark—and I remain, bered th.it the strange creature wis art I Eastern royalty. " I met him afterwards; I in Japan. ' I am not Japanese. Chark m of course, not my name. I oome fronj what yon so vaguely call here the East Indies. I will not be more precise thai] I that at present. Mr. Brandon is one oj i the most wonderful men that ever lived." i n« gave me a wealth of formation, an. 1 sm.-u- any questions that I pn\ to bird ; with sieat readiness, and adding HUM i pi.-t'iiehiie touches of his own in thaj I queer, ripped English cf his that msdi : Molly's father live in my mind. Bnndoij must have been a very outstanding charao ter in his day's of freedom—a little, silent, shrivelled man, of superhuman endnrancj" I and arnteness, a man who was always I breaking «nt in unexpected places and as, tonidiine the world. In his youth he had '; gone farther into Smith America than an* I other known traveller. He had thowinds of miles of those mysterious regions in the Malay Archipelago, whiclj few Europeans have ever even seen. H« , had led a forlorn hope in an impcrtanl ' rebellion in China. As a scientist, he was ', responsible for one or two really epoch' mak'nc electrical discoveries, from which" I gathered that other people had reaped the benefit owing to the fact that he con! ' side-red them as a mere side-issue and , hobby. AH the same Chark alluded to i| quite casually and as a matter of course-, he was an immensely wealthy man. H< ', had always been a strange and enicmati 1 fteure in the public eye. He had lived i ': life of mystery. No one could say wherj 1 he was or wha't he was doing at any riven time. His sudden appearance in Paris) London, and Berlin were apt to be dramatic. A year before the present date, the pr*s| of Europe and America was wildly excited Brandon was arrested for the murder o Professor Fritz von Bruder, a celebrate! German botanist, with whom Brandon hai apparently been friendly in Singapore. Th murder took place in a London hotel ii most mysterious circumstances. It was th merest toss up whether the charge wouli be sustained or altered to the lesser on of manslaughter. Owing to the evideno of a servant, this eventually Brandon got ten years. " Thank you very much," I said. "I| will now be an additional pleasure to worlj for such a man— say nothing of the facl that he Is Miss Brandon's father." "Ye-es, we think you ought to knar*, all about him. We nope you will meet him very soon." I warmed up at this. Things were get ting exciting, but I forebore to ask to 4 many questions. " You don't know where we are going 1 n "Except Exeter, I haven't an idea." " Ah, that is only a contrevent," Chsrk . replied. A contrevent?" Then I remembered) Of course it was the French word fol . blind I " Yon see, it must not be known, i} ( possible, that we are with Admiral Fitzl Spain and mademoiselle. We are "oini to the same place, but we go by different ' route. "> " Quite so," I answered, as if I line* . all about it. " You see," he continued in his plaintive i little voice, " there are just as mans i powerful people fighting against our friend ) —I will not mention his name again— there are for him. You must be prepared) i honourable friend, to elude the vigilant of some of the sharpest eyes in Europe, and if you make one little tiny slip— , ever so little!— have your every footstetf dogged. Strength is good. ( Strength will 1 be necessary. But it is cunning we) wanj now." , " Then w* are really going. . , .?" ' "To.Devonmoor," he whispered. "Ad* miral FitzSpain lives not four miles from ' the prison. We get out at Exeter and • go to a certain hotel. Your servant, hi i remain with the baggage at the station, » We dine, pav for our dinnsr. and go fol • a little walk. On this walk, a closed i motor-car come, having pick up the luggari 1 and your servant. Then we travel through • the night and arrive at the •'admiral's at ' dawn. No one have seen fa. No on« i connect us with the admiral But I think > we arrive already." 1 He was right. The train was moving more slowly. Putting my head to ' window, I saw the four grey spires of th< • cathedral on the hill. 1 CHAPTER IE • THE MOST INGENIOUS AND DESPERATE CMC* i PANY. IN EUROPE. Two gigantic proctors held me firmly i by the arms, so that I could not move. 1 A little in front of me stood Wag Totter 5 ham, fighting bravely to the last. Charks f of all sizes and innumerable hosts assailed t him. There were little Charks, no bigger f than an egg, squirming up his legs liks - beetles. There were fluid, cloudy Charks" - that flowed about his head, and one that) i rushed at him with a long cannon which I he was using as a battering ram. The! s great ruby which we had come so far, s to find glowed upon a shelf above Wag's • head. It grew, brighter and brighter until s the whole scene was blood-red. The noissj i of the assault— thuds of Wag's; arms beating back his adversaries—grew; louder and louder. A little Chark which a was wriggling about on its belly at my! s feet suddenly began to swell and shooS e up with incredible rapidity, until its f&csj a was on a level with my own. It put it*, i lily-like hand upon my shoulder. . . »: " \f "I think you better wake up, honourable! .. friend 1 You have sleep well. It is dawn. . I have stopped the car for a moment." » I was sitting in the great grey car which . had met us outside Exeter late that night. e Chark was standing before me. The elec* 4 trie light in the roof was out; the blinds drawn from the windows, which were 0 opened. Just in front I could Bee the back! 8 of the chauffeur, and Pugmire, who sat [ by his side. i! "Oh, yes," I said vaguely, "I have 9 just had forty winks !" y ' " You have slept like honourable baby ; during four hours," said Chark, "and a now . . . ." y. He opened the door and« got out of the y car. Still misty and bemused with sleep, e I followed him. Then I came to full con* sciousness immediately. The air which j, flowed into my lungs was so utterly pure, . so clean and cold and life-giving, that ii ' 1 was like a draught of that mysterious I Milk of Paradise of which the poet sings. i, Then I gave a great sigh of pleasure, e Above me and all around was a vast art •. of sky, unbroken till it touched far hori* t zons. I stood under a hollow pearl, where" distance itself seemed to have no meaning. t, And far away to the east, rising on the) ; very rim of this inverted bowl, was th* j Ruby of God. Great blood-red spears -■' y streaked and veined themselves up into th* ;. nacre. The circle of the sun grew, greater,' £ I and there was a shout as of livinj.thing! ?{} - Everything grew clearer and moro clew, .ft;; g I saw the great, swelling line of the moor, ~; 9 the tors and distant hills. The plover. M| 3 the curlew and the lark were crying *U.fg| [ around. A breeze began to blow, as it |||| f blows in a ship's rigging, bar J and cold •:/_.. 9 and .pure— the sun the tors seemed S» , to move behind one another like a hlffa |^»£ of cattle. There was the great, rooty* - . 9 sweetness of bogs. The car stood upon s>;p j wide ribbon of road edged with nu>a *.' \:'_ - rocks, some of them as big as a two* '• • roomed bouse, with fern and heather 'lA'y;^] 1 between where the vipers bred. ''•;•, J aw b« continued on Wsdnesdv utf 4