THE PRICE OF SILENCE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXII, Issue 19061, 4 July 1925, Page 5 (Supplement)

THE PRICE OF SILENCE.

' BY FRED M. WHITE. Author of " Tho Golden Bat." " Tho House on tho ftiver." " The Green Bunsralow,'' " The Crimson Blind," etc.. etc. (Copyright). SYNOPSIS. Sir Wilton Oakes sits in his library at Priors Irate. No one. except his dead father, knows what ft disgrace he has been to his family. He has robbed his father, and impoverished the estate. He now reaps what he has sown, and either sell or let. on lenso tho whole estate of Priors Gate, or, in order to disencumber himself, return once more to a career of crime. While moodily cogitating a man-servant announces a gentleman. 1 hie man was one of his criminal associates while in America. Primary is a qiieerly shaped hunchback with » handsome face and a pleasing, intelligent smile. Sir Wilton gives him cold welcome. A girl enters the library. The baronet asks her to stay. Mr. John Primcry takes to her and converses with her till Oakes interrupts and bids her depart. Left alone the two men speak frankly. Tho baronet acknowledges his almost insuperable financial difficulties. Primerv puts ideas before him which, if successfully carried out, will recoup him. Also the. unwelcome visitor announces his intention to remain as guest the price of his silence. Wilton Oakes, pacing the terrace in front of priors Gate, receives a visitor. It is his nephew, Cecil Oakes, who wilt inherit if his uncle dies childless. Training for the Par, he has come to search for a document which has an important bearing on a case in which he is interested. Ho aska for Miss Venables, his uncle's secretary. There is mi understanding between Cecil and Audrey, and she tella him she dees not like Sir Wilton's guc3t, Mr. Primcry. CHAPTER 111. (Continued). " Oil, 1 must Sfe this wonderful man," Cecil ;,aid smilingly. " Has he conic to live here altogether?" " Well, it begins to look like, it," Audrey said. " Not that it is any business of mine, of course " ''Quito* right darling," Cecil said. ** Don't let's discuss him. I've only half an hour to spare. I tame down here with a friend who has gone to Heron's Nest on business, and ho will want to ho on his way back to town again within an hour. I understood that your friend, Miss Stella Pryor, is going to be married short I v."

" right," Audrey said. " I shall miss her lerriblv. You have no idea what

a nice girl she is." " But they are comparative newcomers, aren't thev? At any rate, I have not

met them yet." " Well, Mr. Pryor bought Heron's Nest about a year ago, and has been living here even since. You know what a huge place it is, and what a lot of money it must cort to keep up. Mr. Tryor himself is not what you would call a gentleman, though he is very lavish and openhanded with his hospitality. I believe he made a huge fortune in America, specu-

lat ,ing in oils." * " Oh," Cecil cried. " It's that Pryor, is it ? Bertram Pryor. Ah, yes. One of those mysterious men who come out of no where, like the South African diamond merchants did twenty-five years ago. You fee, my practice at the Bar takes me among City men, and I hear a good deal about the private lives of the rising generation of financiers. And I never heard anything good about Bertram Tryor; in fact, quite tho reverse. Still, nothing succeeds like success, and ho certainly seems to have established himself or. a verv solid foundation. So you don't like him?"

" I am afraid I don't," Audrey confessed. " But Stella Pryor is quite another matter. She is a lady, and I believe her mother was one beforo her. She is an orphan, you see, and t.ho man she is going to marry is more or less one of ourselves, and is not in the least influenced !by tho fortune that Stella will inherit one of these days. At any rate, it is going to be a very fashionable, affair, and all •the county will be there. The presents are wonderful. There is a pearl necklace, given to the bride by her father, which must have cost at least forty thousand pounds. On Saturday night Mr. Pryor is giving a great dinner party with a dance afterwards, and everybody in tho neighbourhood will he present. I rather wonder that yoa haven't had an invitation.''

" Oh, well, I am not in the least keen," Cecil said. " No, never inind about the Pryors, or this mysterious Byrbnic strangor here—let's talk about, our own affairs."

It was just half an hour later when Cecil mad') his way up tho broad oak staircase and into the long gallery which •was dotted hero and there with ancient oak chests filled with various papers and documents. In one of these somewhere he feit certain he would como across the ancient deeds which were so vital to his case. For the best part of a couple of hours he searched one chest after tho other, until at length lie pounced with a lilll6 murmur of triumph upon tho very thing of which ho was in search. And then, just as he was about to close the lid of the carved muniment chest, a bundle of papers in a rubber band caught his eve.

He clutched at them eagerly, and removed the band. Ho stood there, absolutely lost to all that was going on around him, with his ejjes glued on the face of thoso crackling papers, and then, suddenly coming back to himself again, was aware of the fact that he was no longer alone. A man was standing there, a yard or two away, a man witli the face of a Byron, and the lofty intelligence of a god, a man with a queer misshapen body, and f>n his countenance a smile which would have disarmed tho most critical. And then, without being iold, Cecil knew that this was John Primerv.

" I hopo I am not intruding," the latter said, in his most charming manner. " But [ think you must ho Mr. Cecil Oakes."

" That is quite right," Cecil said. "And T think you must be the Mi . John Primery that Miss Yenabhs was telling me about. I am looking for a document in connection witli a'smail law suit that Sir Wilton is interested in, and I have just been fortunate enough to find it. I suppose from first fo last I must have turned out at least twentv of these old chests."

" Treasury hunting," Primerv smiled. "Really a ! most fascinating amusement. Wonderful old house this, isn't it? You can hardlv conceive how it appeals to a novelist like, myself. f. can imagine your funding all sorts of wonderful things in those aneinrit chests. Treasures of silver and gold—'' " W"'11, for the most part, I have found nothing but old clothos." Cecil langhed. Wardrobes belonging to dead and gono Oakes, right back to the. time of Queen Kli/.abcth." "And nothing more, I suppose?"

Prirriory asked tho ufst ion lightly enough, liiii just for one moment those (.•yes of his were bent, upon the papers in Cecil's hand before the} - were turned away again. Hut Cecil had not failed I*> see that,: Meeting gleam, and when at length Primi'n' strolled away with a smile atul a jest upon his lips Cecil returned tho papers lie hid found, not to their hiding place, hut behind a panel which lie slid back in the wall and then carefully replaced.

" Just as well to be cautious," he murmured to himself. "By Jove, what a find, that. is. of course, if those papers are what T think they are. Hut. there is plenty of time to go into that."

Then, with the deed he had come in search of carried ostentatiously in his hand, lie wort bark to the rose parlour again. CHAPTER IV. ■THE RKI) SCAR. Primery came down into the yellow drawing-room on the following Saturday evening just before seven o'clock to find Sir Wilton awaiting him there. Both men were arrayed in full evening attire, white ties and waistcoats and claw-hammer

coats, as if prepared for some outstanding social function. There was an air of cheerful gaiety about the cripple which was not shared by his companion. " Come, this will never do," Friinery rallied his host. " You look as if you were going to a funeral instead of a great dinner party in honour of a young and charming bride-to-be. My dear fellow, you don't seem to recognise the wonderful chance that fate has literally thrown in our way. 1 don't know anything about this man Pryor. In fact, I have never seen him so far as I know, but I suppose you have met him often enough during the time he has been down here." " Oh, I have dined with him and he has dined with me, if that is what you mean," Oakes muttered. " Great, big, burly chap, clean shaven and blue about the chin, as if he had once been an actor or perhaps wore a big, black beard. A nasty customer to tackle I should say, and as strong as an ox. Fellow who lias knocked about all over the world, and up to every move on the board." " Yes, quite so. I expected to hear something like that," Primcry said thoughtfully. " How did ho make his money ?" " Oh, oils," Oakes explained. "He was in that big To.xas boom a few years ago, and got out just at the right time. You remember all about it, surely. One of the biggest swindles ever perpetrated on the public.'' There came into Primerv's eyes that peculiar gleam which Cecil Oakes had seen a day or two before in the long gallery, a gleam of malice and triumph, and secret satisfaction which was entirely lost upon the brooding baronet. " Oh, that," ho said. " That was the ramp you drew your poor old father into. Oh, yes, you did, it's no use frowning at me. I remember perfectly well. You were in New York, absolutely on your uppers, not knowing where to turn for a dollar, and so you played the prodigal son on the old man, and he was soft enough to send you ten thousand pounds to invest in Texas oil shares. And you bought them at a few cents each and sent them home to the old gentleman as evi-' deuce of your penitence. It's no use trying to humbug nio, Oakes. What became of those certificates?"

" How do I know ?" Oakes growled. " They were absolutely worthless, and if the old man thought he was going to turn them into good money, then so much the worso for him." " And you had the (en thousand pounds," Prjmery laughed. " And it lasted you just six months. However, we needn't worry about that. lam more concerned about, to-night." Well, what about to night ?" Oakes asked truculently. " Just to hear the man talk,'' I'rimery cried. "We are going to dine and spend the evening in the house of a millionaire who at tho present moment has something approaching a hundred thousand pounds worth of gems under his roof. Need I say I am alluding to tho wedding presents of that very charming daughter of his. And with any luck, those will be in our possession before the week is out. We know where to dispose of tho spoil, and how to do it without arousing the slightest suspicions. Of course that man in Amsterdam will want tho lion's share of the plunder, but we ought to be able to cut up thirty or forty thousand pounds between us. And just think what you could do with twenty thousand pounds at tho present moment. You could pay off those two very pressing mortgages and havo enough ready cash to carry on here for the next six months. And by that time we shall have looted half the big houses between here and Southampton. By the end of the year you ought to bo quite clear and in the enjoyment of a princely income again. Sir Wilton Oakes of Priors Gate, and one of the most eligible bachelors in the county of Hampshire. After that, you havo only to keep to the straight path with nothing to worry you henceforth. Why, good Lord, man, it's enough to makes one's mouth water." " Yes," Oakes growled. "It sounds very nice, I know. But how is the thing going to be done?" " Why, my dear chap, have you ever known me to fail ? I)i.l you ever know one of my ingenious schemes go wrong ? And, mind you, Sir Wilton Oakes is beyond suspicion. Everybody knows he is and as to his shady past—well, that secret is buried in the grave with your poor old father. Nobody would suppose for a minute that you were mixed up in that sort of thing. And, I ask you, who would point, a finger at a poor unfortunate cripple like myself, who can barely cross tho room without assistance And here we shall be honoured guests in the house where all that stuff is, and in a position to find out exactly where the treasure is hidden and how to get it. By the time we get back here to-night I shall have a perfect plan of Heron's Nest in my mind. I'll tell you later on how the thing will he worked. Meanwhile, you can enjoy yourself and think no more about it. Come along, I think I can hear the car at the door."

They camo in due course to the great house known as Heron's Nest, and there in the big pink and gold drawing-room half the county awaited them. There were quite sixty guests altogether, and Bertram Pryor stood there with his back • o the great carved mantlepiece dominating them all by sheer weight of personality, and tho knowledge of the money that stood behind him. It was ft glittering scano of refinement and gaiety, and Audrey Venables, sitting by herself in one corner of the huge, bril-liantly-lighted apartment, felt almost bewildered by the splendour of her surroundings. Then tho great double doors were thrown back with a flourish, and dinner was announced. TN'ho guests flocked in, laughing and chattering. gaily, with tho bride-to-be and her bridegroom the centre of attraction, seated presently at a high table across the far end of tho dining-room ori either side of the burly host. Near to the bride was Audrey Venables and her dinner partner, and next to her, half-huddled in his scat, Primery, surveying the scene with a bland smile, upon that beautiful face of his. Just opposite to him sat Sir Wilton, who, for tho moment, had thrown aside his moodiness, and was, for the time being, at any rate, just a well-bred country gentleman surrounded by his peers. As the dinner proceeded and the champagne corks began to pop, so did the conversation rise to a higher crescendo of mirth and bubbling laughter. And in the midst of it sat Primery like a Greek god at a feast, beaming benignly upon his more fortunate fellow creatures and putting his physical misfortunes bravely behind him. He did not appear to be keenly watching everything that was going on around him, but all the same, he was; .moreover, he was particularly interested iri the big man who sat at the head of the table.

Then the cloth was cleared away, and a great galaxy of purple and golden fruit stood thero in so many crystal bowls, while coffee and liqueurs and cigarettes were handed round. Primery was tapping absently with a silver knife on his dessert fruit. At the same time ho caught Sir Wilton's eye for a moment. Sir Wilton sat up alertly and listened to the tapping with all his ears. The Morse message carno clearly.

" Look at our host," Primary was saying with gentle tinkles on his plate. " Look at his right hand. What do you see there ?" " A red scar like a diamond, extending from the wrist to the knuckles. But what about it ?"

"We shall come to that presently. Directly we get back in the drawingroom conic and speak to rue. Message finished." With laughter and mirth and a soft swishing of • feminine garments the women drifted away and the men were left alone. Then one by one Ihey finished their wine and vanished in their turn. Primery sauntered out in his slow, painful manner, and in tho far corner of the drawing-room seemed to be busy with a volume of prints. A minnto or two later Oakes dropped into a chair by his side. " Something big," he murmured. " Found out a clunk in tho armour of our host 1 Or what is it V

" Do you remember a man called 'Bat' Bronson?" Primery said, with barelymoving lips. " The Texan?" " What? Oh, of course I know of him. I never met him, and I never heard bofore that you did." " Well, I never have—at least, only just once, and I am certain he never spotted me. But I saw that scar on tho back of his hand, and that's the sort of thing I don't forget." " Then the millionaire Pryor is Bat Bronson, eh ?" "Yes; you can gamble all you're worth oil that." CHAPTER V. BEFORE THE DANCE. There was nothing in the expression on Oakes' face to show that he had just heard a piece of astounding intelligence. He knew intimately most of the leading characters in the American underworld, so that the name of Bronson was no strange one to him, though in the course of hie nefarious transactions he had never come in contact with the one man who was, perhaps, the king of them all. For Bronson was in a class of his own, he had had practically no confederates, and only a very limited circle, indeed, knew him by sight. And, moreover, the police had never managed to lay him by the heels, and indeed they had heen glad enough when he had turned his back upon tho land of his adoption, and returned to the east a few years ago. And here he was now, big, triumphant, and successful, with a more or less established position in English society, and Oakes chuckled at the mere thought. He knew that there were certain people in London who whispered things under their breath and hinted that the big oil king was no better than ho should be, but nobody knew anything definite, and the mere weight of money had Carried the man who called himself Pryor almost to tho top of the social tree. " Well, that is worth knowing," Oakes murmured. "Of course, I know all about him, though we never met. But, all the same, I don't quite see how we are going to benefit by the knowledge." "Oh, don't you ?" Primery smiled. "You leave that to me. And as soon as you got an opportunity, send Pryor across with some excuse, so that I can have a few words of conversation with him. 1 have got a schemo in the back of my mind, which I can work all on my own, and, unless I am greatly mistaken, we shall pull off a big coup before we turn otir backs upon Heron's Nest to-night. Now then, oft you go, and don't waste any more time. I calculate we have got an hour and a half before the mob arrives for the dance, and in that time it seems to me that I shall be busy. Allons."

Oakes strolled across tho drawing room to' the. spot where Pryor was standing and holding forth in his large flamboyant way. He managed to detach his host from the little, group that he had gathered around him and skilfully piloted him across the room to the chair where Primery was seated.

"I don't want to detain you more than a minute or two," Primery said. " But I wanted to ask you a question. These engravings here. I see they aro mostly American scenery. Now, as an American myself, I am interested in that sort of thing. I wonder if you could tell me where the portfolio came from '!" " I haven't tne least idea," Pryor said. " As a matter of fact, I bought this, lock, stock, and barrel, with everything just as it stands. Sorry I can't help you." " Oh, it doesn't in the least matter,' Primery smiled, with a pleansant expression upon that strangely handsome faco of his, and a candidness that disguised a mind as evil and black as night. " You see, .being a writer, certain things appeal to me. I have very few pleasures, Mr. Pryor, and when I am in pain—" " It must bo the, devil," Pryor said, not unkindly. " I should have thought you would have found these sort of entertainments rather trying. Still, so long as you aro here, you do just as you like. And if you want to be quiet for an hour or two I can give you the run of my own private library." " Now, that's very good of you," Primery said. " And indeed it is just what i" was going to suggest. As a rule, I liko to see the young people enjoying themselves, but when my neuritis comes on, as it does at any moment, then I must bo alone. You see, I can always find something to think about. And a sheet of paper and a pen is absolute medicine to me. 4 c '£ f i r > too > \ be a most excellent and soothing narcotic."

" Oh, that's all right," Pryor said in his most breezy fashion. " You come along with me, my friend, and I will find you a spot where you can have all you want anil be as quiet as you please. Nobody ever goes into my den without my sanction, and even to-night, when the house is full of guests, it will be empty. Come along, and I will make you comfortable."

" That is more than good of you," Primery said gratefully. " As a matter of fact, I may not want it at all. But, mi the other hand, it may be necessary for me to be entirely alone. Those pains come and go in tho most extraordinary way, and if this is one of my lucky evenings, then I shan't want to trouble you at all" All the same, Primery lost no time in availing himself of his host's offer. He crawled painfully along a lofty corridor until Pfyor turned at length into a sort of library on the side of the house with

three windows that looked out on to the terrace. The crimson silk curtains were drawn now, and the cords which held them back in the day time lay on the carpet. The whole place was lined with books, and in the centre of the room was a Louis Seize table on which a muss of correspondence lay. There was no lack of stationery and all that sort, of tiling, so that Pryor indicated it with a comprehensive wave of his big hands. " There you arc," lie said. " Notepaper of all sizes, both plain and embossed. If you want to make any notes, everything is ready to your hand. And if you want a drink, you have only to touch that brass knob by the side of the fireplace, and help yourself. And here is a bos of cigars." " This is indeed hospitality," Priinery smiled. " I shall be as happy as a sandboy in here, though 1 hope that, I shan't want to use the rtoin because 1 came here to-night to enjoy mind, I think 1 will help myself to one of those cigars. Ah, Coronas, I sei—my favourite smoke. I hate to trouble you, but have you such a thing handy as a cigar cutter?" Pryor put his hand into his trouser pocket and at the end of a thin gold chain produced a bunch of keys. Among these was a cigar clip, £.nd Primery's quick eye did not fail to detect also what ho recog nised as the small compact key of a safe. Moreover, he could see a safe let into the wall on the side of the room opposite the fireplace, and his quick mind jumped to the conclusion that the key and the safo were more *han closely connected. Not that he said a word about this discovery as he nipped off tho end of his Corona and placed a match to it. "I am indeed in clover here," lie said. "Do those loqg windows happen to open on the terrace?" "Certainly they do," Pryor explained. "All the windows in the living rooms do. Why do you ask ?" "Oh, I don't know," Primary said casually. "I am a restless sort of being, and rather prone to wandering about at night, especially when my pains trouble me. So that if they come on presently I may take it into my head to pull tho curtains back and take a stroll on the terrace. I suppose you don't Fry or shrugged his shoulders, it was all the same to him, he explained, and so long as his guests were .satisfied, then ho was perfectly happy. "You don't mind if 1 leave you now?" he asked. "You are. free to wander about tho house wherever you like, and you may rely upon tho fact that you won't be disturbed. And now, if there is nothing else I can do for you " A minute or two later, and Priinery was alone. He glanced at the big French clock oil the mantelpiece and saw thai it still wanted a few minutes to ten o'clock. Within the next half-hour tin

guests for the dance would be arriving, and there was much to do in the meantime. Meanwhile, most of the men who had como over for tho dinner were amusing themselves in the billiard room, and the ladies of the party were upstairs putting the finishing touches to their more elaborate toilets. With those quick ears of his, Primery listened intently, but not a sound broke the silence. He crept softly across the room and opened the door, so that if anybody camo along the 1 corridor, he would detect the footstep instantly. Not that it mattered much, because the critical moment was somo way off yet, and the danger 2,one was still unentered.

Then he sat down to tho big table, and wrote a short note in handwriting that he took some pains to disguise: indeed, ho made two copies of it before he. was satisfied, and then, placing the missive in an cnvelojM', addressed it, and dropped it carefully into his breast pocket. With the cigar still between his teeth, he hobbled across the room and pushed back one of the silken curtains. A moment later the window wr.s open, and he stepped gently on to the terrace outside, but not until he had picked up two of the long cords that held the curtains in place and had wound them into a neat coil and slipped them into his tail-coat pocket.

There was not a soul to bo seen outside as he stepped along the terrace noiselessly as a cat and made his way, by the light of a thin slip of a moon, to the far end of the terrace and down a flight of steps, at the end of which he could see a small summer-house, built of stone and open on three sides to the elements. There was nothing hero besides a table and a couple of chairs, but it evidently served the purpose that Primery had in his mind, for ho smiled softly to himself as he concealed his coils of silken rope under the table, and then, as silently jis he had come, made his way back to the library again. Nobody had been there in his absence, a fact of which ho was certain, bocauso the door was open just the three inches that he had drawn it back before ho had emerged on to the terrace. Then he drew the curtains once more, and, taking a book from one of the shelves, sat down in a big arm-chair and began to read as if lie had no other object in the world. He glanced at the clock again, and saw that it was now close on eleven. He could hear the sound of motors coming and going outside, and presently the distant strain of music from the band and tho scrape and swish of feet on the ballroom floor.

It was a brilliant scene enough, with its wonderful light and colouring, but it interested Primery not at all. Ho crept out in tho vestibule and, selecting a long, dark overcoat Irom one, of tho pegs there, softly opened tho front door, and crept out into the night.

(To bo'continued on Saturday next.)