THE SECRET AGENT

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXI, Issue 21807, 23 May 1934, Page 19

THE SECRET AGENT

A THRILLING TALE OF MYSTERY

CHAPTER ]X.—( Continued) " I'm afraid we're going to run into thick fog, sir, and if so you'll be hearing the signals particularly loud outside." It proved a true prognostication. Bunny had not been between the sheets for more than ten minutes before the first of a long series of ear-splitting blasts came from outside. Closing the window of bis cabin had little or no effect. The tornado of discordant sound continued. This proved all the more disturbing as it beat upon his tortured ear-drums at regular intervals of two minutes. After about three-quarters of an hour of this he felt he could stand it no longer. In any case, sleep would have been difficult that night, for his nerves were stretched to breakingpoint. Getting out of bed, he slipped on a thick dressing-gown, and, with bis pipe, a box of matches, and a full tobacco pouch, left bis cabin and went down the steps to the promenade deck. The night was warm, and be felt no sense of hardship. The ship was surrounded by a thick impenetrable mist. It was moving dead slow through a world of shadows.

Filling and lighting his pipe, he sat in the deck chair, sheltered from what little wind there was and decided that he would wait until he had smoked at least two pipes and then try his luck again. In any case, it was more pleasant out here than in his cabin, comfortable though that apartment was. Beneath him he heard the heart of the ship beating out its great pulse not-cs. What would happen if the engines failed? It was not a pleasant thought, and he did not dwell on it. The sea was calm, and there was little motion. He continued to smoke his pipe, lulled into a feeling of comfort. But the tobacco was still only half burned down by the time he saw that he had his portion of the promenade deck no longer to himself. An unmistakable figure was leaning over the rail.

Finder! He did not know whether to speak to the man or not. The other's personality was fascinating him by this time, and it would be interesting to know what reason I'inder would give for being so late abroad. Presently the self-styled whisky traveller turned and, noticing him, waddled across. " These damn fog signals," he started to explain. "' I can't got a wink of sleep. My insomnia is bad enough in the ordinary way—but this" —he waved an indignant hand towards the boat deck. Since there was no way of evadmc the threatened talk, Chipstead asked the man to sit down. If 1 shan't bore you . . . ."

He did anything but bore his listener. Whatever else the representative of McMurtrie's might be, he proved a student of world affairs, and had an intimate knowledge of current events in the Far East. Time wore on, and Chipstead scarcely realised its passing, so interested was he in the other's talk. It seemed absurd to think that this man was anything else than what he pretended — but he would soon know. Already Beddingly would be decoding the inquiries he had sent, and within twenty-four hours at the most he would know the truth about Mr. Charles Finder and Mr. J. 0. Standish, the novelist. Both were interesting him intensely. His third pipe finished, he got up from his chair.

" Shan't stay here all night," he explained, " but thanks for the talk, Mr. Finder."

" Not at all. Only too glad to find an intelligent man to have a chat with. I'll be trying to get a bit of pop-eye myself now. Good night." He held out his hand, but just in the act of taking it Chipstead stooped to pick up his tobacco pouch, which he had dropped. " Good night," he said, and turned away. In bis cabin once again, with the bolt pushed into its place, he recalled the mental picture which had come just at the moment that Finder had held out his hand. He saw a man lying back in a chair, a look of ghastly agony imprinted on his features. That was why he had dropped the tobacco pouch and immediately stooped to pick it up. Other thoughts came crowding as he got into bed. The boat was? due at Gibraltar on the following Tuesday afternoon, but if this fog persisted several hours might be lost. How much, or how little, could be do in that time? Until lie heard from Heddingly his bands would be tied. Even then, although he could show the captain his authority—

As h£ laid his head on the pillow with the fixed determination to ignore the fog signals that were still shrieking their heads off outside his window, he fancied be heard a sudden cry. He sat up, every nerve awaiting its call to action; but there was no repetitiou of that alarming sound, and, telling himself that his imagination had made a fool of him, he replaced head on pillow and was asleep before aware of the fact.

CHAPTER X. THE STEW.VRD'S STOKY A knock on the door brought Bunny back to life. "One minute, steward," be called, and; hopping out of bed, drew the bolt. Miller, wearing his perpetual happy grin, brought in the early morning tea. " I'm afraid you didn't have too good a night, sir." " Oh, 1 got off eventually. What sort of a day is it?" " Splendid. Your bath will be ready in five minutes, sir." "Thanks. Miller.'' Lying full-length in the warm seawater,. Bunnv decided that he must have a word with Hamilton somehow or other during the course of that day. The present position was something approaching the ridiculous; after all, everybody spoke to everybody else on the second day out, and there would be nothing unusual in his having a chat with Hamilton as they leaned against the rail, looking down at the water below. Shaving and dressing quickly, he was out on deck by a quarter to eight. Vining and the other Air Force boys were already taking their matutinal stroll.

" 'Morning, Colonel!" called \ ining as they passed him. "Sleep well?" " Fairly well, considering the fog signals." Eight times round the deck, and the party turned their serious attention to breakfast. He found Captain Holliday as chattv as ever.

" Have you heard anything?" he questioned. " Heard anything?"

" Perhaps it may be only a yarn, but our steward said something about a passenger being missing." The coffee cup from which Chipstead had been about to drink was replaced in its saucer. Considering his state of mind, the action represented a considerable feat.

"What's that, Holliday?" the Secret Service free-lance inquired.

" It's only a yarn, I daresay," repeated the other; "but my steward was talking to one of his mates this morning when I went to my bath, and, overhearing a word or two, I put the question straight to him: was anyone

(COPYRIGHTJ

By SYDNEY HORLER Author of " 5.0.5.." "The Spider's Web" and "Sporting Chance"

missing! - ' The fellow didn't like to talk, but eventually 1 got out of him that there was some kind of disturbance during the night." /That cry! '"What's the man's name—did ne tell you?" " No; he said he did not know. I believe he was lying myself." The arrival of the other two occupiers of the table switched the talk into another channel for a few moments. Conversation concerning the lack of sleep owing to the fog signals monopolised the time until the waiter had received the various orders. Then: " I say, Hemingway, have you heard anything about some funny business during the night.'" The R.A.M.C. major looked up from the bill of fare. " Don't tell me," he replied, evenly, " that one of the lady passengers so far forgot herself as to smile?" Colonel Raphael was more serious. In his lighter moments he was never able to forget that he was a colonel of the Bengal Lancers. "Be more explicit, Holliday," he urged. " hat do you mean funri} business?' " " Well, sir, the story goes that one of the passengers is missing-—fell overboard in the fog last night, perhaps." " What nonsense! How could he fall overboard unless he wanted deliberately to commit suicide?"

During the remaining twenty minutes that he stayed at the table, Bunny kept looking'round the dining saloon in quest of Ord Hamilton, but the latter did not show up. Finally, he could contain his impatience no longer. Muttering an apology, he rose from the table and walked quickly out of thr> room.

At the purser's office be asked for that important functionary. The latter had just come up from eating his breakfast.

" I have a very important reason for asking, purser, believe me,'' he started. '' Is the rumour true that a first-class passenger is missing?" The man eyed him curiously. " Where on earth did you get that storv, sir?"

" It's pretty common talk at the breakfast table."

" Well, sir, 1 can't tell you a thing. If it's true, the captain will be conducting an inquiry without a doubt."' He turned to his letters. Before he reached the cabin door Bunny knew that if the rumour were true the missing man would be the War Office envoy. The sharp stab of apprehension which had come to him at Holliday's first words now became a positive pain. He opened the door; Hamilton's cabin was empty.

Facing about, he looked into the anxious eyes of a steward. " Where's Mr. Hamilton?" "My God, sir! I'd like to know," was the incautious reply.

Before Chipstead could say anything further the purser with whom he had recently been talking appeared round the corner.

" Excuse me, Mr. Tankerton, but the captain would like to have a word with you in his cabin."

" There's nothing I should like better." was the prompt answer. "Please lead the way, purser." The face of Allan McKie, the captain, might have belonged to a country squire of a previous generation. It had breeding stamped upon every feature, and the mouth was kindly, if firm. Only the eyes were different — McKie's eyes were those of a man who had followed the sea from his boyhood. The first impression Chipstead had of the man as he entered the staterooms on the heels of the purser was that the captain knew his business, and that, while he would be just, he would have no nonsense. One who really commanded and one who expected instant obedience. That was his quick summing up. The captain rose as he entered, and stood behind his wide desk. He was an impressive figuie in his uniform, with his cap on the side of his head, strong, well-kept hands resting on the wood in front of him, and his face set into stern lines. On his right stood a man also in uniform, whom Bunny was able to recognise as the chief officer. The purser, coming behind and closing the door carefully after him, completed the company. Bunny was the first to speak. " You asked to see me, captain?" " Yes, Mr. —" consulting a list on the desk. " Mr. Tankerton." McKie lost no further time. He looked the type who not only faced difficulties, but set about overcoming them. (To be continued dnil.v)