THE STOLEN MASTERPIECE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 20602, 28 June 1930, Page 16 (Supplement)

THE STOLEN MASTERPIECE.

By T. C. BRIDGES.

• CHAPTER XXlL—(Continued.) ? ' ' Si ■ ; ) , At the Swan Jim found breakfast ready. 'Aylmer seemed to have excellent ideas of what this meal should be, and the chef had carried them out well. There were Torbay dabs, equsd to, but fresher than, Dover soles, some excellent kidneys and bacon, and coffee which was remarkably good for an English hotel. In spite of his worries Jim ate well and felt better. "If yon have nothing else to do we had perhaps better get back," said Aylmer, as "he lit a. cigar. " The police may wish to ask us questions." "I'm ready when you are," replied Jim, ,who was filling his pipe, so without another word they stated. Bradshaw and one of his men were on the spot when thoy arrived, and Bradshaw, it appeared, had already examined the scene of the supposed strngglo and collected some information. " Not a lot," he told Jim;" " There isn't a lot. It's a rare queer case, Mr. Coryton, for, as everyone says, Ching had no enemies. I knew the man myself and .liked him. - Seeins to me the only explanation is that ono that you and Mr. Aylmer have put up—that someone tried to break into the house, or that Ching heard someone outside , and .chased them, and they turned on. him . and chucked him in. The funny thing 13 DO pne heard anything." " What' are you going to do ?" Jim asked. " I suppose it's no use dragging for the body." " None at all," said Bradshaw with decision. " The tide- was ■ running out. If the man was hit on the bead and thrown in, the body may be miles away by now." He paused. ; " Only thing I can do," he went on presently, "is 'to. go back to Bude and set the wires working and round np any suspicions characters. But if, as I'm afraid, they name by boat, that won t be much good." , Good /fellow .'as Bradshaw was, 'Jim breathed more - freely when he had left. Yet the state of things was awkward, to put it mildly. Ching was gone, Mrs. Ching was in' her room, weeping .her eye« out. The only domestic help was a gawky girl who acted as dish,washer and scullury maid. She had not, Jim knew, the :foggiest notion of cooking, and it was certain that the whole of the burden o! _the house-work would fall on Nance. ] "It's an infernal shame," said Jim' to himself. Then the bright idea occurred to him that perhaps he could help. He was not a chef, but at Blundell's he . had learned 'to .make toast and fry' sausages. At,any rate.he could offer his jiervices and the notion of a day spent in assisting N&iicte 'ift 'any capacity^made hiis ■ heart * beat faster.' * "■ As he made his way toward the kitchen he heard a thud, and a half-smothered exclamation of pain. The sounds came from the cellar tod hurrying along the passago he found the door at the head of the cellar steps open.' Oh', Major .TTnllamj have - ypw hurt "yourself"?" 'came Nance's voice, and there was Nance holding a candle, bemding' over Major Hallam, who was flat on the stone flags. CHAPTER XXHL JlM'il BAD DAY. /lor a moment Jim's only feeling wa3 one of surprise and wonder as to what on earth Nance and Haliam were doing together in the cellar, but it was followed by a nasty pang of jealousy. A man as much in love as Jim was can never take an unprejudiced view. Meanwhile Haliam was picking himself up. " I'm all light," he said, but he did not seem to be, for he was leaning against the wall, standing on one leg and holding on to his left foot. " Ycu have hart your ankle," said Nance, with a sympathy that must have been very consoling to Haliam, but made poor Jim writhe. " Ricked it a bit," said Haliam. " Nothing to worry about, Miss Nance, I assure you." He put the foot to the ground as he spoke, but winced as he did so. " You are really hurt. Let me give you an arm upstairs," said Nance. I' Thanks' awfully," said Haliam, but this was a bit too much for Jim. " All right, Haliam," he called. " I'll give you a hand. Ho ran-down the steps, and got hold of Haliam none too gently. "Be careful, Jim," said Nance, but Jim was already luggirig his rival up the steps. He got him as far as the hall whero Haliam dropped into a chair. Nauco followed, :[ull of sympathy. " I will get you a bamdago and some lotion," she said. " No, you get them; Jim, The. things are in tho cupboard in tho bathroom." ' ' '

Jim bit his lip as he hurried up the stairs. " I believe she's in love with the blighter," he muttered under his breath. He got the things and had to stand Tby while Nance carefully bandaged the damaged ankle, then it was his job to help Hallam to the sofa in the smokingroom. It seemed a perfect age before this was done ami Hallam made comfortable. " I'd have thought there was trouble enough in the house without that fellow tumbling down and damaging himself," said Jim to Nance, as he followed her back toward (the kitchen. " What on earth were you doing with him in the cellar?" It was not the* most tactful speech in tho world, nor was it surprising that Nance resented it. " Wo were looking for Ching," she answered rather shortly, " But I'd been in the cellar long ago, and so had Bradshaw, but we couldn't find a trace of him there." Nance made no reply, and all of a sudden a horrid suispicion came into Jim's mind. "Nanco.," he exclaimed, "You .weren't showing him tho secret cellar?" Nanco turned on him, and the pink spots on her cheeks worO a danger signal. Sweet-natured, as sho was, Nance had a temper. "And if I was?" she retorted. " W-what—showing tho cellar to a stranger like HajUam ?" gasped Jim. " It is true tha.t I have known you five days longer than I have known him," said Nanco. "Do you mean that I am a stranger, too?" inquired Jim bitterly. It was not tho soft answer that turns away wrath, acid Nance grew angrier still. " You c£in pelase yourself as to that, Mr. Corytoa," she said icily. " You might remember, at any rate, that the cellar is mine and not yours, and that 1 have a right to show it to anyone I please without asking your permission." Jim bowed. " I apologise," he said harshly, but Nance was not listening. Sho biad gone straight on into the kitchen and closed the door. One might almost say banged it. Jim stood where she had left him, feeling half-stunned. " I've done it now," he said at last, in a low, bitter voice. " That's the finish." He turned . back into the hall, picked up his cap, went out, and walked blindly away across the bridge and over the heath beyond* < Whein a woman is . really miserable she locks lierself in her room, lies flat on her face on her bed and weeps. In the case of a man, to. whom the luxury of tears is denied, physical exercise' is tha

A THRILLING STORY OF ENTRANCING INTEREST.

only antidote. Jim, angry with Nance, with Ilallam, but most of nil with himself, strode on and on, without noticing io the least where ho was going. He saw nothing, not oven the sky, though that was rather well worth looking at, for a tremendous thunder cloud was piling up in the north-west, pnd the vast ranges of cumulus, towering against the blue, made a £ruly magnificent sight. It was tho sudden eclipse of the sun which -roused him from his trance, and he looked round to see the storm sweeping him in blue-black majesty and no house within miles. Stay, thero was shelter of. a sort. He saw a building on the hill-side opposite, a building that had an oddly familiar appearance. Yet even so he had to staro at it for several seconds before he recognised it as tho old mine-house where Butch Harvey and Midian had imprisoned him. It gave him a queer shock and his j first impulse was to turn right round and maka in, the opposite direction. ' A flash of whito fire lit the heart of the cloud and a dull roll of thunder shook the sultry air. This storm was going to be no child's play, and Jim realised that eren the old mine-house, with all its sinister associations, was better than nothing. It was not likely that anyone was there, and in any case Butch Harvey and Midian must have long ago departed. Ho started running and gained the place just as the first huge drops came spattering down, each making a splash as big as a penny. The door was closed and hb put his shoulder against it, but it opened .so easily he stumbled in, very, nearly on his head. A dry, nasal voice came from the gloom inside. " You sure didn't wait to knock, mistei 1 , But I ain't blaming you any. It's going to be right wet.." Another flash of lightning flung out tho frame of a man seated on an old packing case, with a black cigar between his hps, and a hard hat on the back of his square head. Jim gave a gasp. "Butch!" he exclaimed. The other rose to his feet. " Doggone if it ain't Mr. Coryton," he exclaimed, and put out his band whifch Jim took without any hesitation. " Set down," said Butch cordially. " Havo a sorgar." " I'll light a pipe, if you don't mind;" said Jim. He took out his pouch and, as he did so, glanced round quickly. An apology for a smile crossed Butch's thin lips. " S'll right," ho said. "Ain't ho one here but me." • "The rain came drumming down on the roof and the increasing darkness was lit by- shafts of, flame. The became almost continuous. Butch shifted closer to .Jim. 4 Was you looking for me, mister V' he asked. "Not I," replied Jim, who was somehow cheered by this odd encounter.. Of course' it was possible that Bntch had some grudge against him for the way he had been fooled over the picture, yet Jim did not really think that this was the case. And he had conceived an odd liking for this businesslike, yet kindlyininded crook.

" Not I," he repeated, with a smile. "•I* tvAs' never wore astonished than to find, you here." - • " Jest so," replied Butch wisely. " An' that's why there ain't no place safei I ."' , *■ « •

Jim actually laughed. "I se ® the way you reason it out. Like a fox going back to an old earth. Yes, you probably are safer here than anywhere else. But what beats me is why you're here all. I thought that, now you'd got the picture, you would have been halfway back to, the States." A crash of thunder louder than any yet made speech impossible, for some seconds, and the next flash of lightning showed Butch gazing straight in front of him, his palo face expressionless as a mask. Jim waited for a pause in the storm and went on. "If I'm not asking too much I wish you would tell me how ynii. or your crowd, managed to get the icul picture in the end." Butch took his cigar out of his mouth and turned to Jim. " There ain't nothing to tell, mister," he said drily. "Wo ain't got the picture." Jim stared. " You haven't gob the picture?" he repeated. "Honest, we ain't, mister," said the other, and something _ in his words or manner earned conviction to Jim's »mind. " But you know it's gone ?" he asked sharply. " We knows it's gone," said Butch equably. The storm was passing, and it was becoming easier to talk. ' Sure, wo know it's gone." " Then who's got it?" Jim blurted out. That queer apology for a smile showed on Butch's thin lips. " That'd be telling, mister," ho remarked drily. " You mean you know ?" f " J wouldn't go so far as to say that, replied Butch cautiously, " but I'll allow I have my suspicions." " And yon won't tell them ? " " You conldn't hardly expect that, could you?" said Butch. " Not after the way you fooled me first time." " I had nothing to do with that," Jim reminded him. "It wasn't till I got home that I found out wlmt had happened." Butch nodded. " That's true. You're a right bravo man, Mr. Coryton, but you ain't no poker player." "What do you mean?" " I mean as you couldn't act innocent if you wasn't innocent. You get me?" Jim laughed a little ruefully. " I expect you'ro right. Then you won't even tell mo whom you suspect of being the thief?" " No, mister, I won't," was the reply. "But there ain't no hard feelings, at least, on my side. Will you take a cup of coffee aforo you go ?" ... Jim hesitated. He had had nothing since breakfast, and there was an unpleasant vacancy below the third button of his waistcoat. And yet—• Butch smiled again. It was almost a laugh. " Thinking I'd maybe dope you. You don't need to worry. You can pick your cup when it's made." " I'm sorry," t>aid Jim frankly. "Of course, I'll have some coffee and be glad of it. And I'll tako whichever cup you offer me." A gleam that was almost kindness showed in Butch Harvey's hard eyes as he lit an oil stove and put a blackened kettle on. The coffee, strong and hot, and mixed with plenty of condensed milk, was most welcome, and Jim made a considerable hole in a tin of biscuits which Butch opened. While they ate and drank they talked. , " You've got rid of Midian, I see, said Jim. ' „ "That's one fellow I sure hope 111 never see again," said Butch. " I agree," replied Jim. " He's pure brute. You don't know where he is, do you?" " 1 don't, mister, and I don't want to. Suddenly Jim remembered the man who had been spotted watching the Roost on two occasions. He told Butch, and asked him if ho thought it was Midian. " I couldn't say, Mr. Coryton. It wasn't me, anyways." " I was wondering if he had anything to do with Ching's disappearance," said Jim thoughtfully. Butch laid down his cup. " Ching," he repeated. " That stiff little mutt as came to bring the picture and fetch you back ?" ' ' ' - "Yes."

• " You say he's disappeared 1" " Yes." Jim saw no reason why he should not tell Butch, for Butch might possibly be able to throw some light on the occurrence. " Yes," he repeated. " Ho disappeared last night, and I found his cap by the water early this morning. Wo are very much afraid that someone ,has knocked him on the head and thrown, him in. That's what made me think of Midian." • .... ~ ..

(COPTtIIQBT.)

Butch's thin lips tightened till they became a mere lino, and a frown showed on his forehead, "It sure sounds like Midian's work," ho said at last speakinc apparently to himself. jhen ho looked up at Jim. " Are you going back to this hero Rabb's Roost to-mght, Mr. Coryton?" ho questioned. - "of course," replied Jim, in some surPr "l'hen you" be mighty careful of yourself," said Butch. Jim's eyes widened. You doii t mean that I am to share Ching's fate, Butch V ho exclaimed, " I ain't putting that past them, said Butch. " See here, Mr. Coryton, you're a white man, and I likes you, and I says again, you be careful. Keep your eyes open. Don't go snooping round alone. And if.l was in your shoes, I'd quit that placo and go somewhere else, and I'd do it right away." Jim could not doubt that the man was in earnest, and was very much astonished. " Can't you tell me anything else?" he begged. Butch shook his head. " It's likely Ive said too much already," he remarked gloomily. He lifted the pot. " Another cup of coffee, mister?" "No more, thanks!" " Then I reckon you'd better bo moving. You've a right long way to go, and it ain't going to be healthy for you to be out by your lonesome after dark." Jim got to his feet. " All right," he said, " I'll bo moving. Good'bye, and good luck!" "Keep that last wish for yourself, said Butch, "for I reckon you'll need all the luck in the world i£you don't take my advice and move from these parts.". CHAPTER XXIV. A WASTED WARNINGOne of thoso -wonderful Bristol Channel sunsots bathed the Jloost .in crimson light as Jim came down tho opposite _ slope. It was very beautiful, yet to Jim, in whose soul was something of the Celtic superstition of. his Cornish _ forefathers, there was something ominous in the bloodred glare. All the way home, as he tramped through the sopping heather, Jim's riihid had been full of Butch's warnings,- and the more he thought of them, the more puzzled he became. The maiu thing that stood out was that Sharland had not got the picture. Jim was certain that Butch had not been lying on this point. But if not Sharland, who was it ? ■ Tho more ho thought tho more puzzled he grew—so puzzled indeed, that for the .time his own troubles were almost forgotten. He remembered how, on his first, night at the Roost, Ching had warned him against Aylmer. Well, Aylmer might havo been interested in the search for the treasure, but to.connect him with the of the picture or tho disappearance of Ching was manifestly absurd. "In tho first place he had been away on the night the Eicture had been taken, and in the second e had been the first to suggest caliing in the police to solve tho mystery of Ching's disappearance. Haliam. Equally absurd, for Haliam had not arrived until after the picture had been stolen. Jim disliked Haliam intensely, yet had too much sense to allow his dislike for the man to bind him to the fact that Haliam was an ex-army officer and a man of excellent character, who had done good work in the war. Nance had told him this, and that she and her uncle had had the best of references before taking him as. a paying guest; Chine—was it possible that Ching had been playing a double game? Jim dismissed the suggestion with hardly a second thought, for apart from his own liking for the little man, Pip knew all about him. There remained Robert Tremayne and Maurico. But Robert Tremayne did not even know of the existence of the inner cellar, and as for Mnurice, he was tho worst sufferer by J.: '.oSj of the picture. Jim gave it up and his thoughts turned to Nance as he crossed the bridge and went up to the house. Ayimer was tho only occupant of the ball, sitting reading, in his usual silence. He looked up as Jim came in. " Get caught ?" ho asked briefly. - "No, I sheltered in an old mine house," Jim answered. " Any news?" " None," said Aylmer gravely, and that was all. Jim went np to his room and changed. Under tho circumstances it was hardly likely that there would be dinner, but ho knew that Nance would provido a meal of some sort. He hurried down and waited in the hall, for his hope was to catch Nance alone and apologise for Ids conduct that morning. He believed that, if he could only get five minutes alone with her, he could put things right, and was prepared to eat any amount of humble pio to earn her forgiveness. Vain hope, for instead of Nance, Uncle Robert appeared. Ho seemed to have got over the shock of Ching's disappearance for he beamed on Jim and began to apologise for tho fact that dinner would bo replaced by cold supper. " Tomorrow I hope we can got someone in," ho went in. "At present Nance is practically single-handed. Awkward, too, for Haliam is too lame to leave the house. Ho has strained his ankle and can hardly hobble." " Can I be of any nse 1" Jim asked. " Very good of you to offer, my dear Coryton, but lam afraid not. I myself volunteered io givo Nance a hand, but she would havo none of it. She is immensely independent." " She is wonderful," said Jim warmly, " but she cannot bo expected to feed a houseful of men, and to-Jnorrow, I think you must allow Paget and myself to take our departure." Mr. Tremayne looked sad. " Perhaps you are right," he said. " Mr. Aylmer has already announced. his intention of leaving to-morrow. Without poor Chine our whole household seems to crumble." At that moment Aylmer appeared, and was followed by Haliam, hobbling slowly with the aid of a stick. Jim's heart sank, for now all chance of getting a word alone with Nance was at an end.

Sharp at eight Hannah, the little maid, sounded the gong, and just then Nance came hurrying down. Jim watching her saw that she was rather pale, yet that she looked charming as ever, in a palo blue frock, with a shot-silk scarf over her shoulders. " Cold food, dear people," she said, as she took her place at the end of the table, " but I am not going to apologise, under the circumstances." " I should rather think not," said Hallam quickly, almost indignantly. " I think you are a marvel, Miss Nance." Nance gave him a little smile, but did not vouchsafe Jim so much as a glarico much less a word. Poor Jim! In spite of his long, hungry day on the moor all his appetite left him and he sat silent and gloomy, eating little and only answering the questions which Uncle Robert fired at him every now and then. While the others ate *he was planning how ho could get a word with Nanco later. Ho had the excuse that he wanted to toll her of his interview with Butch, but excuse is no good without opportunity, and Nance gave him none. For the first hour after supper she was helping Hannah in the kitchen, then sne came back to the drawing room and, announcing that she was tired, asked to be excused. She wont stroicht to her room, and that,, so far as Jim was concerned, was the end of it. (To be continued daily.) "A firm of solicitors rang up a stockbroker and the following conversation took place Good morning. Are you Mr. Dunman ?" " Yes. Who is that ?" " This is Hullett, Craftling, Studge, Minariddy, Gowle, and Scarrow." " Oh, good morning, good morning, good mornIfig, good morning, good morning, and morning."