THE GIRL IN THE TRAIN.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXII, Issue 18943, 14 February 1925, Page 5 (Supplement)

THE GIRL IN THE TRAIN.

BY It. SPRINKS ALLEN.

(Copyright.) The tiny, cramped office was very dingy, but to Ralph Ainsworth it seemed brilliantly illuminated by the light of successful achievement. Cyrus Bradley, the owner of the office, was a fat, rather mean-looking man, but to Ralph he seemed like a guardian angel as he spoke the final words of their interview. -'Very well, Mr. Ainsworth, if you will call again to-morrow morning, I will have the agreements drawn up ready for your signature. Speed is everything, you know. The sooner we can get your Polisher on the market the better it will be for all concerned." He paused to increase the effect of his words. "You will be sure to como to-morrow morning V "Certainly, Mr. Bradley, and I hope you will be able to dispose of my invention very soon." Ralph Ainsworth raised his long and somewhat shabbily-clothed body out of his chair, gathered the drawings and model of his invention together and placed them in his leather attache case, which was lying on the desk. Cyrus Bradley, taking the cijjjir from his mouth, leaned forward in a friendly manner. "While you are here, Mr. Ainsworth, I would like to show you one of my own little inventions. It is in the other office —this way." He led the way to the outer office, the sole occupants of which were a pretty typist and an untidy office boy. The girl was just preparing to leave for the night. "Oh, Miss Aubrey, where is that model of my smokeless paraffin lamp ?" The girl went to a cupboard and returned with the model in her hands.

"Ah, there it is, Mr. Ainsworth," her employer observed. "You see the principle of it—" He broke off, sniffing the air. "Excuse me* just a moment, Mr. Ainsworth, I think I have left my cigar lying on the desk."

He went back to his office, and in his place the girl continued the explanation. She evidently was interested in inventions. In Mr. Bradley's office she had evinced an encouraging interest in his Electric Floor Polisher.

"Yes," Ralph agreed to her claims, "this lamp is quite a smart idea." But he was taking little notice of the model. His eyes were on the girl—the most delightful-looking girl he had ever seen.

She was small, charmingly dressed, and appealing alike to the eye, ear and brain —the sort of girl, in short, Ralph had in mind when he , had designed his Polisher. He felt that he would like her to use the first one that was made.

Cyrus Bradley re-appeared. "Oh, Miss Aubrey is showing you—good. Not a bad little thing, is it, Mr. A ins worth?"

He put it back in the cupboard, allowing Miss Aubrey to continue her dressing. Then the men went back into the private office, where Ralph picked up his case and prepared to go. A short while later he was out in the street, joining the tide of office workers hurrying to the near-by Underground station. There he waited a few minutes before a west-bound train appeared. When it rattled in he boarded a crowded carriage and clung to a strap, resting his precious attache case on the floor near his feet. Then he scanned interestedly, as was his usual habit, the faces of the people around him. Seated directly opposite him, wedged between two ladies of somewhat uncomfortable proportions, was Miss Aubrey, looking rather flushed, as if by hurrying. With a charming smile she acknowledged his look, and Ralph raised his last season s hat—promptly forgetting such mundane things as inventions.

By Jove, what a pretty girl she was! Daiutv! Interesting! At "the next station one of the outsize ladies left the train and there was room for two to be seated. Ralph found himself by Miss Aubrey's side. • "I scarcely expected to meet you again like this, Miss Aubrey—" Ralph began, and then stopped. It was too trifle, to commence like that. He waited for a few moments.

The girl gave him an opening. "Let mo congratulate you. if I may, upon your invention, Mr. Ainsworth," she pronounced, in a voice that was like herself, charming. "Mr. Bradley, I could see, Mas enthusiastic aby at it. I hope you will get goods terms for it." Ralph grimaced a little wryly. "The better the terms, Miss Aubrey, the better I shall be pleased, for I am very much in need of advance payments. I've been one of the army of unemployed since coming back from France, and I decided that the quickest way to recuperate my bank balance was to invent things—things, as it turned out, that nobody had any use for, apparently." Miss Aubrey* turned her clear brown eyes, alight with interest, to him. "However did you think of such a clever thing as your Polisher?" "Well," Ralph smiled, "I don't, exactly know—it just seemed to come suddenly. Perhaps from watching my landlady on her knees, scrubbing the' floor." "However it was, I'm sure it will be a boon to every one, Mr. Ainsworth. Every man's wife, every housekeeper, will want one when they are put on the market. They will be such hard-work savers. I know if I had a home an Ainsworth Polisher would be almost the first thing I should want—no going down on my knees to polish floors!" The train was slowing up again: the girl broke off her enthusiastic speech to utter a little exclamation.

"My station already! I'm afraid I shall have to say good-bye, Mr. Ainsworth, and good luck for your next interview with Mr. Bradley."

Sho shook hands with him, picked up her case from the floor, and hurried from the train. Ralph watched her out of sight.

The train rattled on its way again, and the young inventor lapsed into a fascinating reverie, in which Miss Aubrey and his invention were delightfully mixed. In one short day he seemed to have encountered long-delayed success for his Polisher—and his ideal user for it. He fell to wondering what her more intimate name was, where she lived; and, lost in these absorbing thoughts, it. seemed but a very brief time before the train drew into his station.

Reaching his rooms, he had some tea. Then he prepared to lock away his drawings for the night. Ho picked up the attache case and laid it on the table.

In the strong light of his reading-lamp the initials on the leather flashed before his eyes. His own initials, of course, were but these were "P.A." In every other respect the case was an exact replica of his own. "Good heavens'" he cried, as realisation came. "This is not mine. The designs —where are thev ?"

Ho tore the lid open. Contents: a lady's hairbrush and comb, a lunch-hour library novel, a small packet of needles, a reel of black cotton—but no drawings! '' Obviously it belonged to Mr. Bradley's typist, Miss P. Aubrey And she was in possession o! his case — the case containing all the details of his precious invention! By Jove!—what a pretty girl she was! Dainty! Interesting! lusido the case was her name and an address in Bayswater. Ralph seized hold

.of tJiis thread of,chance. . lEc .would mak<. a call post-haste on Miss P. Aubrey. ' He cleared the papers away and got intc •his outdoor clothes again. Just .13 lie was about to depart for Bayswater,' his landlady came into his room., | "There's a young lady below as wants to see you hurgently," __Wondering, Ralph went to the parlour. There was Miss Adbiey! "Mr. Ainsworth, I've got your attache case here! 1 must have taken the wroup one in the train. As I know your address- I had seen it at the office on those drawings—l brought it along, straight away, in case you wanted it." Grabbing the article. Ralph almost burst tt open in his haste to see if the designs were intact. The case was stuffed with waste paper, with a paper weight to adjust the load of it. Miss Aubrey, the drawings are not here. He looked at the girl accusingly. Btit Mr. Ainsworth, thev must be, if you put them there!" Ralph spoke irripatientlv. W course 1 put them' there!" The girl looked very concerned as ehe saw the expression on his face, "VVhere can they be, then, Mr. Ainsworth . Surely you don't suspect me of hiding them? Do you?" Was she playing "a very clever game ? Halfph looked searchingly into her pretty tace. Surely this concern of hers was actual, not acted. .Suddenly Miss Aubrev turned to him Mr. Ainsworth;" she said eagerlv, let- 5 go bac): to the office now—l've got ? IT . ® y ~ and see if w " can them there. Will you trust me?" Ralph thought rapidly for a few moments. He felt that he must believe 1 lier. She looked so honest! I But—where were the drawings? They had scarcely been out of his sight since he had packed them in the office of Mr. Cyrus Bradley, the agent. Then the giil brought out a forgotten pqfnt. The v case had been out of his sight once while he had been in the outer , office, inspecting Mr. Bradley's invention.*That was a faint enough hope for Ralph, and without delay he set off with Miss Aubrey for her office. In the tube the girl began to talk, at first hesitatingly, as if she had been weighing this very subject mentally for some time. "I have a nasty suspicion, Mr. Aitiswocth. "You think my employer is » ■ gftfierous, straight man, don't you*?". 'Yes," said Ralph, "he's treated me well-—" "Has he, Mr. Ainsworth ? Are you sure ? There is no documentary evidence yet for you to fall back upon and I have suspicions about the actions: of Cyrus Bradley. One or two things recently-——" "Yes, Miss Aubrey, but what has he dome in this instance?" The girl paused in thought. Then a flash of memory came. "When you were in my office, looking at his invention. Cyrus Bradley went back to his roomwhere your case was—to get- his cigar!: I believe he took the drawings from your case then!"

At that hour in the evening it was a tedious journey into the city. Traffic was centred upon the West i2nd. and citybound travellers were few. Ralph could have screamed aloud at thejr rate of progress. Everything seemed to crawl—purposely.

Finally they reached the insignificant little side street, between Queen Victoria Street, and St. Paul's Churchyard, in which Mr. Bradley's office was situated, and approached the building. There was a light in !:•# office. Ralph and Miss Aubrey eved each other inquiringly. What could this mean ? Thereafter they proceeded with caution. Miss Aubrey quietly slipped her key into the lock o? the doer which opened into the outer office. There was no light here, but through the frosted glass panels in the door of Mr. Bradley's room a light shone steadily. Over the door was a clear glass fan-light.

Without speaking Ralph and the girl acted in unison. A stool was placed in front of t.he door, and noiselessly they climbed on to it and looked through the fan-light into the agent's room.

Cyrus Bradley was in the act of smirking to himself with deep self-satisfaction as he pored over Ralph's drawings, which now lay in duplicate on his desk. The two watchers turned to each othpr and whispered the same words; "He's copied tho drawings!" Then they saw him get up from the Cesk with the original designs of Ralph's Polisher in his hand and walk to the fireplace. He drew a box of matches from his pocket. "'He's going to destroy your drawings. Mr. Ainsworth—to leave* no trace of ownership!"' There was a crash as the two jumped to the ground and the stool fell. Ralph sprang to tile door and burst it open, with Miss P. Aubrey close on his heels. "I don't think. Mr. Cyrus Bradley, ib would be advisable to strike that match just yet!" Her name was Phyllis, and she used tho first Ainsworth Polisher in their new and comfortable little house, which was built in a pleasant, suburb with the aid of Ralph's advance royalties.