TREASURE HOUSE OF MARTIN HEWS.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVI, Issue 20364, 19 September 1929, Page 20

TREASURE HOUSE OF MARTIN HEWS.

BY E. PHILLirS OPPENHEIM.

CHAPTER XXXVI.-(Continued.) A small army of cleaners, hastily sumjmoued before their time, had now comrrineced their usual labours. We all moved up together towards tho main part of tho hotel. Tho machinery of tho place was once more in order, and all signs of the night's tragedy were being removed as quickly as possible, y "The Milan is never likely to witness :i sceno like this again, gentleman,'' Mr. Bretzgel said, as he led the way—" never iri our time, I trust. The Grill Room is the only one comparatively untouched. Will you gentlemen who have done,such magnificent work take some wine or whisky and soda, or whatever you fancy with me there?" "An excellent suggestion!" Mr. Ruben Sums declared. " For myself I rarely touch spirits. I drank some of Lady Robinson's Pommery 'ls and found it excellent." As ue were about to take our seats at n round table, I drew Bloor on one side. Ruben Sams, with his hands in his trousers pockets, leaned back and laughed at me insolently. " Bloor," I said earnestly, " that man is no more Ruben Sams than I am." For onco those heavy eyelids were completely lifted, and I saw into the fullest depths of tho Inspector's blue eyes. He was obviously astonished. He looked at me as though I had taken leave of my senses. " I nin afraid that's rather a mare's jiest. Major," he expostulated. " Ruben Satns is known all the world oyer. Who did you think he was?'' • " Joseph," I declared confidently. " I rin not mad, Bloor, and I tell you that man is Joseph." Me looked at rne kindly, but with a piofound disbelief. " Como and have a drink, Major," ho suggested. " You have had a rough night ' of it." " That," I persisted, " is the man who flood on the lawn and icd his men when they at larked Hreezeley. He is the man —ho admits that—who was entertained as ' .Mr. X.' at (Jlaridge's, who took such a malicious interest in Miss Essiter and myself. Ho is the man who came to my rooms in Down-street, and who would have killed mo if he had found whom he expected there. 110 is the. man who was seated in I he secretary's office at the Blue j Skies, who talked to you over the telephone/'atid, whether you believe it or not, lie led the Wolves to-night. Ho led them from table to table just where tho women 'were wearing the most wonderful jewels. Ho had them nil marked down. His fightnig was a sham. When ho fired his gun lie used dummy cartridges and the men up again in less than a minute. I j, picked some of the cartridges up. 1 have two or three in my pocket now." " Show me one." 1 thrust my hand into my pocket. They | were gone. Bloor edged away towards the j table. It was obvious that ho had not a j vestige of belief in my story. j "I think you're wrong, Major," he fold me frankly. " Come and have that drink." . " But he talked to me to-night," [ insisted. " We've spoken of Miss ter."The heavy lids had descended. I knew that I was speaking against a rock of incredulity. Nevertheless, ho let me down lightly. " 1 tell yon what I'll do. Major," he promised. " I'll have him watched. He's staying here. I'll send two of our best men up within half-an-hour." I We sat down at the table, and I drank i n whisky anri soda, of which I was badly j

in need. Bretzgel, after his strenuous night and a great deal of wine, soon becamo drowsy. Mr. Ruben Sams 'also drank a gt'eat deal of champagne, but his faco remained as sphinx-like as ever—his eyes only grew brighter. By degrees grey streaks of dawn came creeping into the courtyard. -Ml the time there was the tramping of feet there, the rattle of taxicabs. Reporters were arriving from most of the papers; more important journalists anxious to get fuller information; sightseers of every description. Finally, Bretzgel rose to his feet. " You will excuse me, gentlemen," ho "The night has worn me out. 1 must barricade myself in mj* room, and get some sleep." Mr. Ruben Sams also prepared to take liis leave. ; " In such company," he declared, " I should lie content to sit until the hour j 'arrives for bacon and eggs and coffee, j 'However, if it must be—good-night. Goodnight, Major Owston, my gallant coadjutor to-night. Good-night, inspector, and congratulations upon your timely arrival." He passed down the little avenue between the tables, and vanished into tho court—a very elegant figure of a ntan, /notwithstanding his disordered habiliments. Bloor and I rose to our feet., and In* took my arm. " The hero of your hallucinations," he observed, as we passed out together, " has ' just floated an Argentina Company for two million pounds. It's in all the papers ' to-night. Lord Farendon is chairman of I > the directors." " God help the shareholders," I said fervently. "No wonder Joseph prefers the .West End." CHAPTER XXXVII. T think that, apart from purely personal experiences, the most poignant seconds of my life were those, immediately after 1 had passed my treasure across into the trembling hands of Martin Hews. Never in rny life could I have believed in the possibility of such rapture as shone in his face. Those terrible eyes of his, fis lie gazed upon the statuette, became j-oft and positively beautiful. His lips were parted, not in a snarl, but in an absolutely beatific smile, lie set it down in front of him upon tho desk, and drew aside the purplo covering with caressing fingers. He was like a roan whose emotions, so clearly reflected in his face, had ! generated an almost unendurable physical strain. Ho kept on moistening his dry lips with his tonguo Tiny beads of perspiration stood out upon his forehead. ' Without the slightest manner of doubt real tears stood in his eyes. So ho sat

spellbound, gazing, drinking in an amazing happiness completely oblivious to his surroundings, crooning gently to himself as might have done a strangely-brought-up child. His fingers wandered lovingly over that exquisite surface. Tho seconds passed into minutes. As often -as ho 1 ried *to look awity he looked back again. Finally, with tho tips of his fingers still' resting upon his treasure,-he turned to- j 'ward rne. ' , < " Well done, Owston," ho acclaimed. '"Well done! When the news came through of the raid, I trembled. You brought, me the last great desire of my life. Xow tell me the story." It's a. prety serious one, I fear, sir," 1 warned him. " Tho beginning of it was all right. Isaacs wanted to bargain, but J handed across the cheque.; Tul-Kak parted all right, poor fellow.: He saved I iny life, but they got him this morning. He was found dead in bed, as I dare say ' }on read." j My employer nodded. | " Joseph kept his word as usual. He I swore that il he dealt with me instead "I him he should die before he could cash the cheque." He had three men fo guard him, and ! Ju iced doors. No good! Joseph's men ! at him somehow during the raid. I They, could never believe that f had fought through lo the <iflic-e. and they imagined that [ had hidden it in one of the ro,oms in Tul-Knk's lloor. Every one ctf them was ransacked last night, and torn to pieces." " They pressed you hard for it?" ho muttered, with, a sparkle in his eyes. ' We had, a bit of a scrap in tho r.orridoV of tire JJilan," [ ' told him. .Afterwards*,- we rather fooled them. Isaacs went, off with the coffer, which they look from him at the corner of

AN INSPIRING SERIAL BY A FAMOUS AUTHOR.

(COPYMGUT.)

the street, and T reached tlic office vault safe with the statuette in my trousers pocket. Isaacs is all right, by-the-bye. I rang him up this morning. They just took the coffer from him, and let him go." " You are a man, major," my employer acknowledged tremblingly. " I did well when I engaged you. Now what about the raid'! I have tho newspapers. They speak of you as making an heroic resistance, and a Mr. Ruben Sams. Who is Ruben Sams';" " Joseph." Mr. Martin Hews'stared at me from behind the desk. " You're laughing, major." I was weary of unbelief, but I did my best to combat it. I explained the reasons for my conviction in as few words as possible. " They all believe that he was fighting for the guests," I concluded. " Nothing of the sort. He was leading on his gang. He'd marked down every table where the jewels were worth having, and under pretext of rushing there to defend the women, he led his men to each. When he pretended to shoot, ho used dummy cartridges, and a lite preserver that couldn't have hurt a child." " Thai's a strango story, major," .Martin Hows commented quietly. " Strange, but it's hellishly true," I answered, with some of the weariness which I felt in my tone. " You say that he spoke of my nie^c?" " f asked him where'she was. He refused to disclose what lie called the ' secret of bis happiness.' " Mv employer grinned, and if there was any time when I hated him it was when he indulged in that horrible grimace. " I think, major, he said, '* you have run foul of a man with a sense of humour, and lie amuses himself at your expense." " Perhaps," I sighed. "It always seemed to me that it would be tho easiest thing in the world, if I could once find the man whom I knew to be Joseph, to drag tho truth out of him, but I can't do it. He's so damnably clever. He is always surrounded by other people who" are either his confederates or who believe in him, and he always seems to bo in a position to make mo ridiculous if I accuse him seriously. E thought Inspector Bloor was mv friend—l think he is—but lie doesn't trust me. I begged him to arrest Joseph last night, and ho wouldn't do it." ■ Martin Hews moved uneasily in his place. _ - "That fellow Bloor again!" he muttered. " I wish you'd keep away from him. Tho police' are too suspicious of me. This house is watched from the front door to the river. Isaacs could have got me some of the real lacquer which was taken from the Weindorf Palace in Vienna. I dared not take it. Those tapestries 1 had last month were brought down by motor-boat to my landing-stage at Brick Bend. They are there in the hoathouse still. I daren't bring them away. There's no harm in your being friendly with Bloor, but be very careful, major. Be very careful all the time. Never let him talk to you of my affairs." He pressed a button, and Minchin presently appeared. " A bottle of my wine," he ordered. " Two glasses. I get tired these davs," he went on, speaking as though to himself. " Why don't you chuck it all now, sir?" 1" asked him. "It has been a great game, I have no doubt, but is it worth it after a certain point?"

i "It is always worth it," he replied fervently, " when treasure is there." " But look at what you have already." I argued. "To my dying day_ I shall never forget your gallery, sir. You have beautiful things enough to feast your eves upon for the rest of your life. Why run any risks? Why not ship everything, to some southern country—ltaly, or somewhere among the quieter spots of French Riviera, away from this ghastly swamp. Divide your time between the sunshine and your treasures." He leaned across the table. Again itwas the frightened child who spoke. " I shouldn't be safe while Joseph was alive. You know his oath ? If I got Donkin away and kept the girl here, ho swore to" steal my treasures, one by one, arid then my life. Beatrice is the beginning, I suppose. My Madonna of Deptford followed. I know that lam in danger, but where else in the world could 1 protect myself as I can here ?" " That's all very well, sir," I ex- ,• postulated, " but the man isn't superhuman. He's beginning to get it in the neck, and to get it badly. Thare are fifty-three men of his gang under arrest, some in hospital, the remainder in prison. Eleven are dead. His organisation must l>e completely shattered. The police have combed every houso for miles around their old headquarters. _ Don't you think one of these fifty-three is likely to squeal?" " I don't believe one of them knows," my employer confided. " They catch a glimpse of the Joseph who comes stealing down in their midst once or twico a year, front some hidden piaco in another quarter of the world, perhaps, but 1 don't believe there's one of them—even among his most trusted lieutenants, who could put his hand upon him at a given moment. Joseph knows all about them and what they are doing. They know nothing about him.," " How about last night ?" I demanded. " They recognised him then, and obeyed him." Martin Hews smiled cryptically. " If your theory as to Reuben Sams and Joseph being the same man is correct," he said, " I can quile understand his being willing to disclose himself. Presently I will explain why." Tliero was a tinkle of the bell, and Minchin brought in a long-necked, dusty bottle, with a faded yellow label, and two exquisite Venetian glasses faintly tinted. He opened the bottle, with meticulous care, and after he had served his master he filled a glass and handed it to inc." " This is Berncastlor Doctor, forty years old,'"' my employer told me, holding his glass reverently 'o the light. f " Wines of this character have their beautv almost like the visible ob jets d'art."

He sippcfl from his glass daintily, with | (he deliberation of the true connoisseur. | I followed his example as well as I was able. The wine was the colour of pale , amber, hub richer and softer, more deli- | tately perfumed than any wine I had ever drunk before. As he poured out 1 his second glass the colour returned to Martin, Hews' cheeks, and his eves grew brighter again. " Owslon," he said, "you wore right. 1 said that 1 should finish with the j Buddha, and I shall'keep my word. This j is mv one great final success," he went ' on. caressing the statuette. " There is j nothing iri the world more beautiful than this. No single object of gold or porphyry, of silver or bronze, or jade, or ivory, to compare with it! Stop! Your messenger's fee!" lie opened a drawer, and flung across a bundle of notes, held together by a rubber band. " You needn't mind taking them," Owston," ho went on, almost pleasantly. " A gentleman of fortune who risks his I lifo has been paid with good gold sinco ♦ho days of tho Crusaders. There was never a thousand pounds better earned. I'ut it in your pocket." t ant afraid I did not slop to consider the ethical point of view. After all, 1 had done my job arid risked my life. I pocketed the money. " You may hear from Joseph, even though it is for the last time, as soon as he discovers that he hasn't tho Buddha," 1 warned him. " Jt -has cost mo something like five | thousand pounds," Martin .Hows said, i to make this room impregnable. It I is impregnable. No man could possibly | enter while I sit at thin desk." (To be continued daily.) 4