THE LAVENHAM TREASURE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVIII, Issue 20986, 24 September 1931, Page 17

THE LAVENHAM TREASURE.

By (COPYRIGHT.) of Dmn. Adventure.*

STORY of TENSE AND DRAMATIC action by popular writer

a $- cgiPTEB VII.—(Continued). the officer whistled. ' fUen-there was ? o/ne ground for the which drove him down here—to - r give a pound to know what it You saw the watcher, you sav ? V3S. • ~,, : vou now again . fkj Bigliti Then again I might not. was well away from me when I saw jjjjjj'* answered Lavenham. deliberately Rising reserve. "A pity.-" i" e P iieii thy sergeant. " It jjight have helped us to the truth if you ! could have been sure/ And the man who Jj-I Jbvo enlightened us completely is there. snuffe'l O,IS b >" ' lis own hand, Unless tlit man is known or j jjjj correspondent'e tells us something about hi®- we aie Itkely to remain very apgrnr*-- so far as he is concerned." He ■ % u p the handkerchief with the dead possessions, and then remarked:! ■ ' it Jjsy as well move on, sir. There's ■jjjfctQ he gamed by waiting in the -at' Jago wiil see to the body." Thev turned to leave the wood, the alcer leading, and as--they stumbled »• jaroiig 'he roots and rocks, Lavenham japs his eyes open top the bonds that [ad iweu about. the dead man's wrists. H? saw no sign of/them, however, and though a little disappointed told himself that it was unlikely that ;jie man who ■ had cut them from the dead hands would leave, them lying about for anyone to / gjjcJ. But, he was none The less sure that Helen Lavenham had been right; sad again his mind went to the mothJjunter as the rnan who might possibly be responsible for their removal. " By tie time they reached The Three Feathers both men were glad to avail • themselves of not liquids and the great, peat Are on the hearth. With bis trench coal hung, aver the back of the bench, making a, pcol on the stone Boor, and his back to the fire, Lavenham stared out of the window on the sodden landscape) whilst the sergeant questioned Mrs. Haynes. It/ was little, however, that she could tell him. The dead man iad driven up on Sunday, five days before, and asked if -she could put him up for a day or two. She had been only too glad, for visitors were rare birds and callers few at that end of the moor in November. Her guest had gone out a goodish bit mostly in his car; he had "asked a lot of questions —more than" anyone in the house could answer; and had seemed to be the old stones on the mocr. That w-as all she could tell them, except that his money was good enough, and that he'd given little trouble before yesterday, when he had got the jumps. The' sergeant nodded. You keep a .register, Mrs. Haynes ?" " Iss. "Ee don't catch me out there, Sergeant." " Tour guest signed it ? "To be sure: I'll fetch it 'ee." ' She did so and . the sergeant read the • last entry. "Charles Lavenham. Nationality— British. Address given—London." He t&rew. the book from "him. " Fat lot of WAri these registers are. LondoD. Might as we\l have been the moon. It would have been aa useiui." " He left a book in his bedroom when he went away, Maybe you'd Like to see it, Sergeant." ' " To be sure. Fetch it." The woman; left the room and presently returned with what was most obviously / a guide book, y/ The sergeant almost sniffed as he tooii it. " Nut much that's useful here, I reckon." He began to turn the pages casually, and as lie did so an envelope, which had possibly been used as a bookmark, fluttered to the floor. Stooping, he retrieved it, and read the address: •fames Carihis, Es<i.. The George Hotel. Tavistock. h ~ . Um! Wonder if he borrowed that . envelope or—" Fie turned the pages of the guide book carelessly, then he gave a jump. " By Jingo.! Look there, Mr. Lavenham." The artist. looked at the top of the title page, which was the piare indicated by the otneer. and read a name J. Cariing." " May have borrowed the book," commented Lavenham, " or stolen it." • ' " Maybe, but—" The sergeant w already reaching for the bench where he had thrown the inn-register. He gathered up the latter, opened it at the last used pane, looked at. it once, then chuckled. % " If he borrowed the book, he borrowed the owner's hand-writing 100. Just have a look. Mr. Laverfham." ".Lavenham did'iso. Then hi; nodded. There was no <yiest.ion whatever that the hand which had inscribed J. Cariing j in the . guide book had written Charles j Lavenham in the inn register. The handwriting had character, and the identity' of both inscriptions was unmistakable. "■ uiif- Girling. ' .viitl the sergeant. V That's who tlio fellow was. Ho wrote it in this book before he re-christened himself, and why he wasn't content with hss own name might, tell us a wlioie lot if *e but knew, which we don't. Cut I tn Roing to find our. There's the hotel ;md the garage at'Tavistock. The folk there may know something. Then there's this Envelope, and what is in that handkerchief. Between them thev mnv tell a whole lot." "But thera was ..some! lung else, also. Lavenham quite suddenly remembered the envelope which had fallen out of the suitcase, and which ho had thrust into his pocketlt was there now. He w as within an ace of producing it., when his own name there: arid it might. be jlesirable to inspect, the papers privately eiore handing : hem over to the police. ' e could easily plead that he had forgotten them, asi indeed he had until that foment; and a little extension of that orgefcfulness 1 1 make no difference. sergeant thumbed th*> gu'de book •cram, then 'offered comment. Mis; Haynns is right ribout the fellow •"'Dg interested :n the • >l«s stones on the i>i°Gr. \Vhep'Ver .there's a mention of T lem the page is turned down. 1 guess ' • Catling must have been in the antilvari,iii line: and wh.it a. fellow wants '.lie old iim'-t er: the moor fair heats Ere. *• Carting s 'i-i.'mri-n with the moorland J'tiquities had Li-.-enham gravelled too. recalling tne man as he had seen him. * <iui not y.-cem to be the type who t'Af'i'.,{ about the crosses, clapper ndges. n:v u'ii- pounds and hut circles *"h wliici] moi'i, abounded. Yet ,''eie "'as Mis. Ha vims' testimony to his n.eiest, and i his-book with its turned J Wn for' f-i;-th 'r evidence. The la °t puzzled him considerably. He held ®°t his hand . for tb.e book. May r have a look Sergeant ?" he sergeant. tossed the book over, and "Vcnhain tnyfoed the pages with interest. any qi r; )P11) , vere ; down at the and on every page so treated olfT" WIS some reference to Dartmoor's stones antiquities. In one or -if ° i tases were pencil marks as «. ,. e ' P aßSa ires marked and held a interest for the owner of the .ooic Ho rend one or two of the marked §;«* Ss ®8 es: " W, pass Hamilton Cross, a -v. ?B""hewn about four feet high, TOar kcd lI.C. and also bearing the D.S., interpreted as Duke of

Somerset, the former owner of an ad ZTLT°f .*»«« •&*£ ■ 80,J1?,'",** 1 Of »" « -North t * i -j one time served as a restored^" 6 B ° Vey but is now g were others so indiVonVi : j°, ne . pencil-marked having some outlandish teature in the wav of f ! ol '- m 0V markin RS; two being distinguished from the other bv havinnotes ot interrogation pencilled "opposite" bi.t there was nothin s to indicate what lho m "°' s -W "«• "»| Lavenham could see nothing in the ' markings that pointed to anything but an ! antiquarian interest; and he handed the l book back. •' I I shouldn't have thought tbo man i would have been interested in Dartmoor | relics, he commented, " but apparently ! he was, and that accounts for his be in"' ! here, perhaps." 3 i " Maybe he came to hide from those tellows who were watching him" said the sergeant shrewdly, " and took up with the stones as a way of passing the time Dartmoor's a damnably dull place ' in November." The sergeant left the room, and moving ] to the window Lavenham saw that the ! weather was breaking. In an hour it, | would be fine; and by then he would be on ! his way to Helen Lavenham to give her i such news as there was, which was little j enough. A musing look came in his eyes j as he thought of her. He had known her j less than twenty-four hours, and already ! she seemed to fill his life. The remem- J bra nee of her loveliness moved him j greatly as he stood there, and as he re- ' called how lie had held her in his arms, ' his heart quickened. Then he laughed at ' nimselt as no saw where his thoughts j were tending. was mis- J tress of the Priory, and he was a penni- j less artist who had been plunged into this j odd adventure by a desire to earn £2O from a stranger. No! It had not been; that. Rather it had been the oddness of i the adventure; and he was not penniless] now. quite. That sale of the picture the sergeant mentioned would put him in 1 funds and would lead to the sale of ! others. It would be the beginning of : , prosperity and— But all the same, it was preposterous for him to even think of that bright girl, with her candid eyes, and comradely ■ attitude, just because he had been privileged to do her a service that any other man migh", have done better. But then that service was not yet ended. If as he suspected, the interest of those men who had been watching the dead Cariing , had its real centre at. The Priory, as Hammer! on had seemed to indicate, then he might still be able to help her. It crossed bis niind that possibly he might best i help her by telling the sergeant all that be L suspected was behind Carling's death; but I even as the thought came to him it died. He visioned the officer's stolid face as he " listened to his ideas —and laughed outl right! The sergeant would think that lie ; was cracked: or was emulating Sherlock Holmes or Nick Carter or some other of the great heroes of detective romance — 5 and that would never do. He must know - more before he spoke, and in the mennI time the privilege of further service wou!d .be his. It was ail two hours later when he L drove Jago and his sergeant back to Xotanam, and after being informed that i , he would be needed at- the inquest, leav- ; ing the car in the sergeant's charge, j entered the inn to find the man whom j he could best think of as Spanish John j eating a very late lunch. The man \ ! greeted him genially. " Ah, Meesier Lavenham, you also are j • among the late scholars. It is very j naughty of us, buti to save the trouble to ; the house we eat together, hey ? Yes ?" | Lavenham, following a sudden impulse, j seated himself at the table and laughed, j " Smale won't mind. He is used to ! the vagaries of his guests, who are ; largely fishermen or artists like myself." j The eccentricities of the sportsmen j and artists—" Mr. Prado shrugged ! his shoulders and laughed back. " But j they make the good landlords —yes; and : men like myself who follow quiet in- < teresis reap the benefit—yes?" To Laveuham it appeared that the other j was deliberately offering him a lead, and j after a- moment's reflection, he took it as deliberately as it was offered. " Quiet interests, you say, Mr. Prado. j I wonder what they are ? You have not j a passion for moths like our fellow-guest j with the blue spectacles, have you?" j Spanish John laughed. " But no! I do : not care for the little things that fly by j night, to catch them and spreadeagle j them with pins on cards as I saw j Meester Hammer-on doing yesterday. But j I am the crazv man on the Druid remains j of the moor," with those strange circles j and old crosses which perhaps you also j are interested in?" Lavenham almost whistled with sui-j prise. Here, it seemed, was something j this man had in common with the dead . man at The Three Feathers. He won- ! dered swiftly if the reason for that in- j terest were the same; then laughed. j " You can have them all for me. I i care nothing for antiquarian lore." " You are the bad boy, Mr. Lavenham, Spanish John wagged an admonitory finger as he spoke. " But the antiquities tnav uot be so drv-as-dust as you suppose. They have, shall we say, subsidiary interests, and those interests, are—er —more intriguing than the ancient ones, as I daresay you know. The man's dark eyes, smilingly enigmatic, met Lavenham's as he spoke, | and the artist realised that, the words) were in the r.ature of a challenge, but he j gave no sign. ' I do not know of any such interests, J he answered easily. " Indeed, sir." The other was politely ! sceptical, and there was no doubt at all | that he was hinting at something of j which Lavenham was in profound ignoiance. Then he laughed genially. *' But i of course, as an artist, your interest will be in pictures, yes? I am right, am I, not ?'' Lavenham. with a notion that the men j was laughing at him, was not disposed ; to let. him have things altogether Ins own | wav. He tried a lead of his own. i *'Just now my interests are in a dead j man whom I found bunging in a wood • at the back of The Three Feathers Inn, which place I daresay you know. The other puckered his brows and : shook his head. " Yo," he answered. ' I do not know of such an inn. But you spoke of a dead j man hanging! That was tragical. Some poor fellow who had lost the last hope in life. [ suppose." " Or possibly a man who was done to death by brutal hands." retorted Lavenham. ~ ... "Murder! Vou do not say. Lnc man's face, had a disturbed look. "Tn ; this solitude! Sir. you make me shake., i If one man so dies, what other man is j sale? But vou have the police informed, j Y esT " - . • • "Of course! I ney are already inquiring into the matter." Spanish John laughed. Yes. they will be inquiring. It is their little way. And you will be helping them ? Do 1 guess right. Yes— ' He broke off, and there was a sudden j change in his tone. " Mr. Lavenham, I read the papers. I see that you are of growing reputation as an artist. But it. would not help you to be mixed up in unpleasant things, hev? The British public is very conventional. li loves above all tilings respectability. It would lie wise of vou to keep your nose ot er—nasty affairs, shall we say (To be continued daily.)