A DOG'S LIFE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 20570, 22 May 1930, Page 5

A DOG'S LIFE.

BY FRED M. WHITE.

To begin with, Mr. John Maggs of somewhere in Bcthnal Green, derived his inspiration from the " gossip " column of his favourite evening paper. More than once lie had derived considerable unearned increment from the same source. Paragraphs anent the rich and powerful and their treasures of gold and silver—especially gold—stored away in remote country houses with owners blissfully unaware of the Maggs tribe on tire lookout for such costly trifles. For that was precisely the sort of man John Maggs was. By day a worker in a garage, by night a lov(r of nocturnal rides on a motor-cycle, but always with an eye to ultimate income. lie liked that bit in the Evening Press about Sir Walter Rumbelow of Brayside, near Margato, and the account of his wonderful collection of gold coins. Not as numismatic specimens, but as sterling, which ho knew how to melt down and dispose of at its full market value. Portable, 100, Maggs reflected. 80 in duo course Maggs _ took a long week-end holiday together- with his motorcycle. He located the cliffs of lSrav from a guide-book and found that Brayside was a, largo modern house on high ground overlooking the sea; indeed, the front of it was within three hundred yards of the cliff, which at that point was as many feet above the tideway with two paths running along the basaltic bastion on which the house was perched. A score of yards below the wall, fencing Brayside from the cliff, was a sort of footpath which was a right of way and unfenced, and this path met with Mr. Magg's decided approval. Firstly, because it was public and, in the next place, because a climb up the precipitous slope afforded an easy access to the grounds of Brayside House. Oil a second public path down below and not more than a score of feet from high water mark, Maggs knew nothing. It was no sort of concern, anyway. Xor was he particularly keen on the upper j path save for the fact that it was a I distinct convenience. lie was not acI customed to cliffs and that alarming steep I slopo ending three hundred feet below in the sea made him giddy and gavohjm an unpleasant sensation in the pit of his stomach. It looked to him that if a bloke happened to slip off the upper path he would be certain to drop <0 the bottom like a stone, and dash his brains out on the rocks fringing the water. Had he known of the lower path not far above high water mark, lie might have been easier in his mind. Hero and there, duo to the passing of time or erosion, wero long slides of slippery shale, and Maggs—not devoid of imaginations—could picture a cove setting that grey avalanche in motion and after that — Blimey! As a matter of fact the danger was not as bad as it looked. Maggs might have seen that had it not been- for a thick fringe of larch trees far down the giddy slope. These half hid the sea and by so doing, heightened the suggestion of a sheer precipice. The more Maggs studied the situation the less he liked it. But if ho was to enter the grounds of Brayside House, and come away again in comparative safety, there was no way save by the cliff path. That must form his entry and his egress unless he was prepared to take serious risks. And "lie was not prepared to take any risks that could be avoided. Therefore, the attack must be made from the, upper cliff path and, once having made up his mind to this, Maggs proceeded to commit to memory the exact lie of the land. A big room with three long windows. Maggs knew this because he had learnt so much from a gossip in the village public house. Moreover, the gossip aforesaid was a jobbing carpenter who did work for Sir Walter, from time to time. An old man, he had in his youth actually seen Braysido House built. Maggs' regarded this Joe Gittens as a distinct manifestation of providence. He was as good as a guide and a plan of the house combined. Let it not be assumed that Maggs was taking undue risks in discussing Braysido House and its owner with Gittens. When the inevitable happened—and Maggs was sanguine on that head—it was inevitable also that Gittens would open his,- heart 011 the subject to the stranger, who asked so many questions anent the place and was so liberal on the score of alcoholic refreshment. But that Maggs was prepared for, and had fully discounted in advance. In reality Gittens had never seen the real Maggs or Watkins. as ho preferred to call himself. As Watkins he presented a man with a thick patch of silver grey plus Victorian side whiskers and a chin beard, the long upper lip being bare. Add a pair of brass-rimmed spectacles and tho disguise was complete. Nor did Maggs' precautions end there. If fhe raid proved a success, it was necessary to provide some rapid means of transport to a haven of safety before Sir Walter's servants discovered their employer's loss in the moraine;.' The motor-cycle was ready and snugly hidden not far off, for Maggs had not been .so unwiso as to come into the village riding his trusty steed. A disused barn and a bale of rotten hay afforded the necessary cover. Add to these strategic advantages the fact that Sir Walter Humbelow was away from home for some days, and it will* be seer, that Maggs had littlo or nothing to fear—save one thing. There was no 1110011 and the weather for tho time of year was mild, but there was a little more fog hanging about than the burglar liked. There was fog at night and far into the morning, that blanket of fog which is one of the characteristics of the south coast in late autumn, especially when there was 110 wind as at the moment. And this fact worried Maggs because he would be compelled to follow the cliff path round the headland after securing (he swag because it was imperative to avoid the village and the motor-cycle lay in ambush in an opposite direction. The thought, of that, to him, perilous walk in utter darkness oppressed him like a- nightmare. He knew that ho could easily strike the cliff path nt'ter thc> raid, but if that cursed fog held, he might take a step too far and finish his career at the foot of the cliff and end as " found drowned." Still an occasional gleam from his flashlight might avert tragedy. But that fog held and on the third night, just before closing time. Maggs bade farewell to his village gossip. " Just time for one more," he said heartily. " Mako the most of il for I leave to-morrow. Back to work, old sport, moro's the pity. Well, so long. Take care of vonrself." So, with every preparation made and his modest baggage on his back, Maggs set out on bis errand. Up to a certain point the road along the cliff was easy—a wall 011 one side and a thick hedge on t he of her. Ho crept on and. on in the dead silence of (lie place until tho house itself loomed up before him ghostly in the fog. Maggs was feeling easier now, for lie possessed a line geographical sense and, moreover, he had visualised the landscape inch by inch by daylight. It was as if he had tho whole world to himself. And, in the midst of it, a haunted house, forsaken and deserted. Not a single glimmer of light to be seen anvwhere. Probahlv the wholo domestic staff had taken French leave and gone off to the weekly dance in tho parish hall. Not that Maggs was banking on this probability. Ho scouted round to the back of the house, and thence to the garage, the door of which was open and no dow of his quarters overhead. No doubt siu r n of tllo chauffeur in the blank winSir Walter had taken the car on his temporary departure from his home. Then the house was deserted. What hi;iikiii' luck. Given one uninterrupted hour, or less, and Maggs would be away round the cliff path in search of the hidden motor-cycle awaiting him. And, if his luck held good, ho would be home

(A SHORT STORY.)

(COPYRIGHT.)

and asleep before those servants had discovered the robbery. Then hack again to the front of tho house, lie stood on tho ledge of jho centre library window, working back the catch with a tliin-bladed knife. It was as easy as kiss mo 'and. The thick velvet, curtains cautiously parted, and Maggs was inside. There was a warm, comfort able smell oi leather and undcrfoct a carpet so. thick and soft that it was possible to move without the slightest sound. A quick flash round with a pocket lamp and Maggs caught his breath. , \ us, there the boodle was—glittering and winking in the glow, thousands'"of coins, a large proportion of them gold. It was compact stuff that could be easily stowed awav in a big inside pocket, and every ounce of it saleable at its faeo value—at least two thousand pounds as mete metal; the find of a lifetime. Maggs wasted no further time. Ere long most of those thin scraps of precious metal were transferred to his capacious pocket and no sign of lifu within a hundred miles. And then suddenly there came a so;t of glow through the thick curtains and what sounded like the hum of a car. After that voices in the hall and a flash of illumination, as if somebody had switched 011 the lights outside the librarv. " Dashed funny I him;. Monty, old chap," one voice said, "But wJiefe tho deuce is everybody'! Withers! Withers! Wit hers!" The cry echoed through the house, but the mysterious Withers had no reply. Withers was 11011 est. . t " Nice game,". I the- • voice - went on. Dear old Nun 1:1 away and the servants off on some bclmo. *' Dashed if thrv haven't taken (ho faithful -hound with 'cm. You hang on here for a sec., Monty, while I go and have a look round." " Righto, old fruit," invisible Monty rejoined. Maggs felt his way silently in the direction 01 the window. , By sheer good luck he found his way there without disturbing any article of furniture cn route. Who were these intruders, he asked himself, blowing in so unexpectedly. Relations of the old bloke, of cQurse. And hadn't one of them said something about, a dog? Maggs had seen nojdog. he didn't want to see 11' dog—llo right-minded Jjtirglar over does. Noisy yapping brutes. Maggs was outside the window now, intent 011 makingj his way without delay to the spot where the, motor-cycle awaited him. Once astride of that, he had Utile to fear. There vtas just a chance, tiiat those toffs might I.enter the library and if they did. . . Maggs didn't want to think of it. All he wanted, like thp Arabs in the poem, was to fold his tent and silently steal away. j He pushed on resolutely until the wall was close at haiiljl. And then he was conscious of a sortjof asthmatic wheezing a few inches behind him and something ' moist and damp and cold pressing against his left leg. Snakes in the heather, perhaps; Maggs had heard of such things—vipers that bit and sometimes killed people. It was onjv by sheer will that Maggs refrained from a shout. But he must see, what the perishin'' thing was. Even if he ran a risk, ho must know. He turned down tho nozzle of his torclij so that the pencil of light showed only) on. the ground, and then lie saw something that brought "his heart into his mouth. There, within t\Vo inches of his leg, was an enormous j bulldog, showing ""a magnificent set of ] teeth in a ferocious grin. i j " Erump, tuntpj. ' 1 tump," quoth tho bulldog in the rijeh, fruity baritone of his clan. " Erump, burp, barp." With one wild Veil Maggs flung himself over the wall and raced down tho heathery slope, in search of safety. In his headling panic he raced across tho cliffs without realising that 110 had crossed the path |and plunged down tho precipitous slope at the foot of which lay tho sea. i Somewhere overhead the bulldog was wailing like a lost soul. But not so loudlv as Maggs 260 ft. below. Those few seconds of long-drawn-out agony seemed like -years to the unhappy marauder. Down, down he went with a crash and rumble of sliding shale until, in a state of mental paralysis, lie shotclean over a square bluff into space, and for a few moments, he remembered 110 more. Then the crashing impact. But not tho crash he dreaded. Some hard substance struck him in the small of IhG back and knocked all the wind out of him. Something that seemed to sway and toss and yet hold him in a close grip. Not so far from the water, either, because |Maggs could hear the swish and suck of the tide unpleasantly close. Then, as his scattered senses began to reassemble.; he recognised ~ dimly the thing that had happened. His fall had been broken and his body supported by the lateral branch of some trees, per<fhe]d 011 the cliff side. It was a wide, flat 1 branch that smelt like fir of some kind. If he could only reach the bottom of it! But at the, slightest movement the, branch swayed ominously and the paralysing fear came back again. Another slip and the adventure would be definitely finished. It was so dark. 1 too, and the fog as thick as ever.; Maggs could hear it dripping around hiinj like the ""flopping of so many ffogs! t Not. a breath of wind moving, sileuieo everywhere. It was 'ard, erool I'ard, Maggs told himself with tears of self-pity in his eyes; but better, perhaps', than being a mangled corpse on' the rocks below. All the same, he, was just as much a prisoner now ;is if lie had been chained by the leg or behind stone walls. Hero lie was with his (pockets bulging with gold and that hlirjkin' motor-cycle, and safety, only list 1 f a iniio away. Perhaps ho might' get away with it. yet. If only|lie could see something of the lie of tho land 1 ! ' But in his headlong (light from that perishin' dog. ho had dropped his. torch. There was nothing for it but to wait till daylight and then see if lit were possible <0 scramble up the cliff and make a dash for tho cycle before, the world began to wake to another morn. A slim chance, but not impossible. And hours of this yet. f Gradually Maggs [dozed off. Ho had sunk deeper into his cradled bower and no longer feared ;i fall. Tho doze faded into a dream! and tho dream into a sound sleep—r~ j When Maggs finally awoke it was morning, early morning with a smudge of smoky light, overhead and a lifting of the atmosphere, put 110 breath of wind yet and 110 fading of the blanket of fog. So thick was' it still that Maggs could not see two yards beyond his nose. Ho could hear the ominous growl of the sea bc-low and flip cry' of the gulls—beyond that, nothing] If only that perishin' fog would lift! Came at length jsounds of life behind the thick curtniii of blinding mist. Voices! A faint puff of wind. Another. Overhead a pallid sphere like a new cheese. The sun, at last! Then, the fog rolled back fold upon fold as .1 moving curtain might do and ihe palpitating Ma pus could see at last. " laiv a duek.'f he blubbered, " li'.v a duek. If Fd only knowed. .Crool luck. An' me or! the time " Tie was lying on the lateral branch of a weather-sejirrcd and stunted cedar tree barely fifteen feet' in height and overhanging tlief lower path which was not far above high water marK. Absolute safety |in ' his gras|> Almost But not quite. 'i For 011 the path. looking ud af Inm and showing]that splendid ranee of teeth, was the cause of all 'the. mischief. " Eriinm. tump, tump," said the bulldog. " Wrupp,." ' Along the 'path came a large man in thigh gaiters and roush shooting pchc —evidentlv a. ganiekeeping sort 0 pet - Jic .note the, direction, of Ins upumiii. nose. And saw Maggs on his puUi. .1 c- " lm si id " Secmm ly you bo tlm "bloke what wo 'uus bo lookiu'f °<"< Maggs almost wept..