THE ONE GIRL IN A MILLION.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIV, Issue 19792, 12 November 1927, Page 16 (Supplement)

THE ONE GIRL IN A MILLION.

BY LOUIS TRACY.

CHAPTER I. THE CRASH. On an afternoon in September, not so long ago, a lean, stream-lined, two-seater xcar —a machine of steel and rubber which .literally suggested tho flexible body of a greyhound—drew up beside a policeman .'regulating traffic in the centre of Ilverton. Tho main road from London to the West of England had become rather suddenly (one of the many High streets which mark :its course. Wednesday was market day in Ilverton, and this was a Wednesday. The road, though unusually wide for a country town, was packed with cars, carts, motor-buses, small flocks of sheep, ,'drovcs of cattle, bicyclists, and pedestrians. It was not, however, because of any hindrance to his further progress that tha solitary occupant of the car had halted.

"Can you tell where I shall find the edices of Messrs. North and East, estate agents?" ho inquired. What better opportunity for working off n bald-headed local joke could a native of Somerset be given ?

"About fifty years West, sir, on the South side!" grinned the policeman. "How excruciatingly funny!" smiled the motorist. "And the best garage in the town?" ''Exactly opposite North and East's place." "Not up the pole, I hope ?" "No, sir—up a yard." "And they told mo this was sleepy Somerset!" mused tho man in the car, as ho drove on. The policeman was much pleased with himself. "Gev* the young gentleman from London one for his nob that time," he rmuned joyously. Meanwhile, ho had noted tho car's index letters and number. Hence his accurate assumption that it had travelled one hundred and fifty miles that day. There were other tokens, of course. The stranger's accent was that of the upper class of society, which, in the opinion of provincial England, is the way Londoners talk habitually. He and his car were covered with dust, too. Not without cause, this policeman in particular was regarded as being quite a sharp fellow, and he maintained his reputation. While waving on a carf-loa<Tof pigs and some led horses, whose safe passage demanded the restraint of ether roadusers for a few seconds, ho saw that the two-seater stopped in front of the estate agents' office, that the driver looked at the building, and then, finding the way clear, swung across the road toward the garage. "I suppose ho knows he has a flat tyre, an' wants to have it put right at once, mused P. C. Benson, who really had very little else to think about. Before many hours had passod, however, he had some difficulty in concealing his surprise at the singular value which a sorely-perplexed superintendent attached to these and other small-town items of information. The "London 3r" handled his car with skilful case. Finding a railway-van bowling along from the opposite direction, ho circled behind it, and then curved in to reach the yard described by his reliable guide. The entrance was fairly wide, but dark witMa, because frontage was valuable in that part of Ilverton, so the upper storeys of a large shop topped the gateway. The broad pavement was crowded, too, but the townsfolk had acquired the habit of waiting at that point to let cars pass in or out.

Among those who happened to be there at the moment, and, nearest of any, stood a short, stout man, wearing a gorgeous golfing suit, with large-sized buttons of tan-coloured leather on coast and waistcoat, and purple tabs on stockings of a fearful and wonderful pattern. He sported two maimaison carnations on the left lapel, and a resplendent gold chain emphasised the rotundity oi" his stomach. His red and shiny face was compressed into a series of fleshy knobs on forehead, nose, cheeks, and chin, ail of which bore a quaint resemblance to tlio aforesaid buttons. His tie and shirt wero conspicuously in harmony, being of two shades of salmon pink, so they clashed horribly with the remainder of his costume. Indeed, the motorist, whose sense of humour had been roused already by the policeman, was half-inclined to copy the example of an impertinent wit of other days who, meeting an over-dressed fop in the street, tapped him on the chest and said solemnly: "You, sir, are evidently a person of importance!" But Dick Lawson—Richard de Courey Lawson on State occasions—merely smiled at the conceit and did nothing, wherein he was fortunate, as shall be seen. Nevertheless, he allowed his admiring glance to dwell on this vision some small fraction of a second too long, because he was barely able to jam on his brakes and make" way for a motor-cyclist who dashed out from under the archway and sped into the road at a surprising pace. This wild rider was a woman—a young and very pretty woman—a mere girl, he believed. For some reason, her daring almost startled him, and he turned to look after her as she leaned over at an acute angle to go westward. Yes, her face was equally pretty in profile. She had big, blue eyes, too, which had flashed cheerfully into his as she flitted across the pavement. And she handled her machine like avi expert. Twice in a few yards did her leather-clad figure swerve into safety through a press of vehicles. Seemingly, she was in a desperate hurry. Lawson was about to crawl onward when ho found the red-faced r.ian glaring at him.

"Did-je ever see anythink like that?" came tho angry demand. ,T Sho ackshaliy hit me with the handle-bar!"

"You're not hurt, I hope?" replied the motorist courteously. "No. Bufc wot about her ? If you handn't stopped dead she was for it." "A miss is as good as a mile. I think she saw there was enough room to get through." Lawson's careless humour acted as a sedative.

"Oh, she's all right is Miss Burke—one of tho best," admitfed tho other, "and I do stick out a bit in front—there's no denying it. But she'll take that sort of chance oneo too often, and then —wee! Bang—crash. Now, you boys, stand back there! Let tho gentleman take his car in."

Willi a nod of thanks Lawson drove slowly through the arch. The little town was full -of minor surprises—first the policeman, then the harum-scarum girl, and now this gloriously arrayed golfsr, whose speech varied as markedly as the colours m his clothes. A few minutes later he emerged into the sunlit High Street, once more, this time on foot. On his left lay a comfort-able-looking hotel, and the hour wns one o'clock, while he had not eaten a morsel since six in the morning. But he was of the somewhat rare type of young man who puts business first, so he crossed tho road to the offices of Messrs. North and East. , A clerk regretted the absence of botn partners. Mr. East was conducting a sale in the cattle market, and Mr. North had just gone to lunch at the "Black Bull." "Capital!" said Lawson, "Where is the •Black Bull'?"

The clerk pointed to the inn whoso mullkmed windows had looked so inviting •heady.

FASCINATING STORY BY A LEADING WRITER. ,

(COPXRIQnT.).

"Can you spare a moment to take mo to Mr. North ? I am Mr. Lawson, of Embery, Son and Lawson, Kiiightbridge, London. Yotir people are expecting me." "To-morrow, six*," and the clerk looked pained. "Quito true/' but I had to rash here to-day. A whistle produced another youth from a back office. "You. see, sir," came the explanation, "this is market day, and it will bo very awkward—oh, very awkward." Meanwhile, P.O. Benson had missed none of those trivial things. He smiled ■ broadly long before Lawson found himself shaking hands with Mr. North, the redfaced man! Their earlier meeting put them on good terms at once. It appeared that Miss Joan Burke was a niece of Sir Robert Manning, baronet, a Somersetshire landowner, a man of fame as a breeder of prize cattle, but notorious in his own country as a rapacious landlord and the worst-tempered person one could meet in a day's march. "How that nice girl puts up with him, I dunno," growled Mr. North, digging his fork viciously into a potato. "Nobody else will. Her brother, • Tony, a decent voungster, and smart enough, too, as boys go these days, cleared' out months ago. Indeed, there was some talk—but that's neither here nor there. Now, Mr. Lawson, about Moorlands, the estate you've come to inspect. There's nothing better in the country, and that's saying a lot. A charming house, two lodges, five hundred acres of a perfectly matured park, a dozen first-rato farms let to good tenants, mixed shooting over five thousand acres, with a lake and four trout streams—l'd like to see its equal anywhere else at the price, £BO,OOO. Why, the rent of- the farms alone brings in nearly four per cent!" "Gross ?" "Well, yes." "How long has it been in tlie market ?" ■' Not a week. The trustees are talking already of breaking the place up into lots, but they'll take the eighty thousand for a quick sale. That's why we wrote to you, on the off chance."

"They're anxious to get rid of the maintenance charges, of course ?" "Yes, there's• something in that. And the neighbouring gentry don't want the landscape spoiled by cheap villas with quarter-acre gardens." "It lies five miles out, I understand ?" "Yes. It's simply surrounded by 'busroutes and first-rate roads."

"Can you take me there this afternoon ?"

Mr. North's face grew almost alarmingly purple. He'held both knife and fork upright on the table. * "No, sir," he said emphatically. "It ean't be done. This is market-day. And I'm chairman of the Highways Committeo, which meets at 2.30. There's heaps of things to be gone into. I shan't be freo till after five."

"Make it four. Mr. North. I simply must be back in London to-morrow afternoon. W<s have a genuine client, an American, but there is reason to believe that if we don't interest him thoroughly in this estate ho will go elsewhere, and at an hour's notice. That is why lam here to-day instead of to-morrow as was arranged. I must secure full details and plenty of photographs, and back them up by a personal report. Come, now! It means good money to both of us. You must stretch a point this time." The stout man blustered, but gave in. At four o'clock lie picked up Lawson in his car and took him to the earthly Paradise he had depicted. It proved to fte all and more than Lawson imagined. In fact, unless the American was very hard to please, the sale was as good as made. Lawson telegraphed One word, "Admirable," to Mr. Embery, in London, adding his address and the inn's telephone number. It was then half-past six, so he had packed a good deal of hard work into a couple of hours. Sir. North pressed the hospitality of his house for the night, but the younger man showed that he would have to write steadily till a late hour, and must be on the road soon after daybreak, SO they separated. At nine o'clock Lawson was in his room scribbling industriously, amplifying his notes from memory, when he was called to the telephone. "Sorry, old chap," came the voice of his senior partner, "but if you are not in the office to-morrow at ten with ample and convincing particulars, we lose our American friend. He has been got at, and has almost promised to leave for Yorkshire at 2.20 p.m. He's not a bad sort, and I only wish ho was not such a Eanicker, but he gave me his word to be ere at ten. What about it ?"

"Well, I'm pretty fit, but I really don't think I can tackle a second hundred and fifty jmiles to-night—" began Lawson. "Not to be thought of," said the other. "The last train left Ilverton nearly two hours ago, But you might run to Bristol. A train leaves for town at 11.15. I've looked up the exact times. Drop your car there, and come on! You can be in bed and asleep soon after three." So "it was settled that way. Lawson had his bill paid and was out of tha hotel in five minutes. His car was in the pink of condition once more. Tho weather was fine and there was no need to hurry. He had two hours in which to cover some forty odd miles, but he preferred to dawdle in Bristol rather than in Ilverton. He was seated at the wheel, and gaining some tips as to the route, because ho had to turn off from tho main London road some few miles out, when a cyclist-policeman dashed in, breathless with haste and excitement.

"The super wants two fast cars and chauffeurs who understand them as soon as possible," he gasped, when he caught sight of the garage proprietor, with whom Lawson was conversing. " One is to take the London road and the other's for Plymouth. The super himself will go in the London car, and there's no speed limit to-night." "Something serious tho matter ?" was the garage man's natural inquiry. "I should think so! Sir Robert Manning has been murdered —shot dead, they say, not half an hour ago. And that niece of his has taken her brother, Anthony Burke, off on her motor-bike. Of course, we don't know anything for certain here, but our local man is sure that Mr. Anthony—" At this stage the messenger regained his breath and some of his wits.

"Mebee I've said too much already," he went on more cautiously. "Mr. Grainger wants tho cars. Can he have 'em ?"

"Well, by good luck, he can. Orio is always ready, and tho other came in today from a week's hire. I can get the drivers in ten minutes, and I'll see to things being O.K. Send era' both to the station ; I suppose?" "Yes. That's right. But cut off a minute or two. The super is telephoning all along those two roads and others, so the Burkes can't get very far, if we have any luck."

But—dash it all!-—the young lady was in here to-day, and I gev' her a new sparkm' plug. She was bright as a robin.

She s up to her neck in this business anyhow. What make is her machine? . . . Right-o. That may bo useful. Is one of us at headquarters could be quite sure, though Benson said ho was. H* always is, you know. Well, I'm off!" " Half-a-mo' What's wrong with Mr. Grainger's own car? It was only yesterday I—"

' I hat's gone already to Wevmouth—nearest port—boat leaving to-night for the Channel l Islands."

And the policeman hurried out. " By gum!" cried tho mystified garago proprietor, " this is a nice how-d'ye-do. Sir Robert murdered! And Mr. Anthony chased by the police! Of course, there was bad blood between them. But I'll never believe that Miss Joan —Excuse me, sir. I've got to get busy." Lawson passed out slowly into tho night. This Somersetshire tragedy was no concern of his, but, like the man he had just parted from, he would be slow to accept the story which linked the name of Joan Burke with the murder of her uncle. That fearless, delightful girl a felon! The mere notion was absurd. Of course, she might conceivably bo foolish enough to

help her brother to escape. Nothing bo highly reprehensible in that. But why did those who spoke of Anthony Burke hint at strained relations between kiin and Sir Robert Manning? At any rate, if the gaily-attired Mr. North's testimony were borne out by tha facts, no one would grieve over that well-known baronet's untimely encl It was sad, but true, that some people were better dead. Then ha wrenched violently at the wheel, and just missed running over a dog. " Confound it!" he growled, "I'd better mind my own affairs. Gee [ Suppose it had been the Manning estate I came down to see'! The best part of £4OOO commission blown sky high!" After that he watched the roud and the signposts thereof. The section he was on formed part of one of the new arterial routes now coming into existence all over Great Britain. The road itself was old as the neighbouring hills, but it had been widened and straightened. About five miles out of Ilverton it used to plunge down to a narrow bridge over a stream and climb as sturdily into a fir plantation. But the ever-increasing volume of motor traffic had changed all that. The greater width demanded a new bridge some fifty feet higher than its still serviceable progenitor a hundred yards away to the right. The greater elevation entailed two lofty embankments, which, with the bridgo as well, were lined with white railings. Another mile farther on, beyond the wood, lay the turning to Bristol. Lawson had come that way about ten hours beforo, and in broad daylight. He remembered admiring the whole undertaking as a fine piece of engineering. It probably saved many minutes in time, cut off at least three dangerous corners, and reduced the wear and tear of engines and tyres. Ho had seen no better structure on any important road in the kingdom. He was running at about twenty-five miles an hour when ho approached this easily identified spot. The night was dark but clear, and his searchlights picked up the railings long before the car was on the first and shorter embankment. Nearing the bridge—indeed, ho might have been on it—his watchful eyes detected two rather disturbing facts at the same time. On left and right, on the other side of the actual girders, tho symmetry of both rows of rails was broken, while in the centre of the road lay a somewhat ominous heap. Applying the brakes and shutting off the engine, he pulled up rapidly—just in time to save the fore wheels from falling into an ugly crack right across the whole width of the road. It was irregular bat followed the same general line. Fully two feet wide in the narrowest part, it thrust a black fissure through the smooth surface. In effect there had been a subsidence of the large embankment near its junction with the ironwork of the bridgo. Several feet away two inert bodies and a crumpled motor-cycle showed that the death-trap had already claimed its victims. Lawson was a good man in an emergency. Four years of war _ during boyhood', a year's rigorous training at a time when birth certificates were not sought for eagerly by recruiting sergeants, added to a mere glimpse of " the real thing" in France, had steeled his nerves without straining them unduly. So ho did not lose his head now. A glanco to front and rear revealed no oncoming lights; ho had at least a few precious seconds to spare. Switching on an electric torch ho jumped over the tiny chasm which held such dread potentialities, and hurriedly examined the first of the two victims of some blunder in carrying out tho engineering calculations as to the angle of safety for newly piled earth and stones. He was shocked, though not altogether surprised, to discover that the first body was that of Joan Burke. Somo subsconscious action of the mind, probably set in motion by a glance at the broken machine, had suggested that Fate was linking his fortunes again with those of tho girl who sped so swiftly past him in Ilverton. It was strange that he should »be so sure of her identity, but he gave no heed to that queer fact at the mometit. He simply assumed that he was right, and stooped over her, fiash-liglit in hand, hoping to ascertain whether she was dead, or badly injured, or suffering from slight concussion.

She was lying partly on her back, and partly on her right side, and the pose of her head and limbs was natural. Moreover, there was no sign of blood from a wound. Dropping to his knees, and placing his cheek close to her open lips, lie fancied lie could detect a faint breathing, while he was ahnost certain he saw a pulse beating in her throat. Her clothing was peculiar. Beneath a leather coat, which had been torn open, and a padded leather cap strapped under her chin, she wore a sky-blue evening dress. Above the tops of a pair of Russian boots was the sheen of white silk stockings. Neither her knees nor her motoring gauntlets showed any signs of abrasion.' It was probable, therefore, that she had been thrown almost exactly as Lawson found her. He ran to the next prone figure, that of a man. Here the issue of life or death was not in doubt for a moment. If this were Anthony Burke, the well-liked youngster, who apparently had a terrible crime to answer for, he had gone before the last Tribunal of all. He had been thrown many feet farther than his sister, and had chashed to earth head foremost. His injuries were ghastly, and his features quite unrecognisable; He, too, was in evening dress, but bare-headed. A heavy trench-coat came to his knees, and he was wearing tliin slippers, one of which had fallen off, revealing a black silk sock. Quite clearly, these two had Bet out in frenzied haste, snatched at the first outer wraps they could secure—in all likelihood garments " stored alongside the motorbicycle in its shed. One more glance up and down the road —this time somewhat anxiously in the direction of Ilverton —and Lawson leaped back to his car, where he always carried a small flask of brandy and water and some rolls of lint and adhesive plaster; ho motored far and wide on behalf of his firm, and had come across many road accidents.

Lifting the girl's head, and turning her body into a more comfortable position, he spilled a few drops of the liquid into her mouth. The mere physical effort to swallow seemed to revive her. She opened her eyes and looked at him. It was a brave soul, too, that peered forth dimly, because she actually smiled. " What did we hit? " she whispered. "Never mind! Drink this. Don't bo afraid of it." She gulped down a good mouthful, but shook her head in thus proving that her spine, at any rate, was uninjured. "What is it?" she said. "Brandy? I don't like brandy."

" I'm sure you don't, but it is good for young ladies who turn somersaults off a bike on the hard high road. Now, one more small dose, and you can talk." She obeyed, and closed her eyes again. It was not a relapse, however, but some nervous reaction induced by the increased pulsations of her heart, and, perhaps, as Lawson feared, a too rapid return of memory. Indeed, she soon looked at him again and this time there was no smile, but terror, rather, in her expression. " Tony—my brother!—" she gasped. " Where is he ? " • With a convulsive movement she sat upright, clear of the man's helping arm, and, resting on one hand, tried to look around. Luckily she was dazzled by the vivid headlights. " Oh, where is Tony ? " she wailed. " Take me to Tony—please! " In tho distance, not mo.-e than a mile along tho llvertpn road, Lawson, who faced that way, caught tho beams of a car's lamps tingeing tho tops of tho trees with silver. Here, then, in all possibility, came the avenging furies in trie prosaic, yet formidible shapes of Superintendent Grainger and bis men. He rose, thrust the torch and flask into his pockets, and placed both hands under tho girl's arms from behind, as he could not be sure yet that she had sustained no sprain or broken bone.

" Can you possibly stand np? " ho said. She was on her feet in an instant. So limber and well knit wore her muscles that he was hardly ready for such' prompt obedience. Ho caught her arms again somewhat forcibly lest she should fall, " Don't hold me," she protested. *' I'm all right. I am, really. But where is Tony? He is my brother, yon know, and We—"

She hesitated, seemingly at a loss for the right word. i .(To be continued daily,) * .