JOHN SMITH – BLACKMAILER

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXII, Issue 22045, 27 February 1935, Page 21

JOHN SMITH - BLACKMAILER

By LINDSAY HAMILTON , Author of "The Black Asp," "The Jackal," etc.

(COPYRIGHT)

AN EXCITING STORY OF VILLAINY, MYSTERY AND ROMANCE

CHAPTER XlV.—(Continued) Roddy and she were something more than nephew and aunt, which perhaps accounts for the confounding of the prophets. For since the day she had come to live with Roddy's people, an orphan at twelve years of age, and had nursed their lusty infant to soothe the ache at' her heart., young Roddy had been for ever after her baby. History, was to repeat itself tragically, for when Roddy was ten both his mother and father were killed in a motoring accident. There were relatives who would have taken Roddy, but he refused to be separated from Aunt Rachel, and together they fought it out. Racliel had her mother's money and Briar Lodge at Sandilands. Roddy would inherit his father's estate at twenty-one.

Three years before the war they left London and came to Briar Lodge, and for six years, as each holiday time camo round, Sandilands alternately laughed and cursed at " that young limb of Satan's," 'exploits. As the disparity in their ages became less marked, Roddy dropped the " aunt," and called her affectionately " Rachel." They were like brother and sister; " the best sister any fellah ever had," Roddy used to say. Latterly a deei>er tenderness had crept into Roddy's heart. At thirty-two he could understand more fully all she had done for him. ' Let us leave them the first precious hour of reunion unspoiled. Rachel slipped awav to her own room after a time. When she returned, for all her smiling composure, there was a telltale mistiness still in her eyes, and Roddy was strangely moved. He rushed her off to inspect bis new car, inside and out, under the bonnet, and even pressed her to take a look at a patent gadget for easy braking, but Rachel drew the line at crawling underneath.

" 1 wrote and ordered it six months ago," Roddy told her enthusiastically. " Thought we might get about a bit. You'll have to learn to drive it. That's a threat."

After tea Roddy seemed suddenly attacked by an incurable restlessness. Rachel smiled shrewdlv to herself.

" You 'must be itching to meet old fi iends, Rodd.v. Why not take a walk round the village?" she suggested. " 1 met your old enemy, Benjie, the other day. He's looking forward to seeing you. He still remembers seeing the devil in the old mill."

Roddy "laughed in gleeful reminiscence. " Hairv old reprobate! 1 suppose he st.il! goes home more by instinct than balance every Saturday night? 1 think I will take a walk I'd like to see the Colonel." Rachel turned away m to hide the twinkle in her eves.

Yes.'do, and —if you see him—tell him I'm very cross with liim. Which way will you go?" Roddy caught the hint of feminine intrifrue behind-the question.

" Which way would you suggest?" he asked.

The bracken on Greybarrow is lovely just now."

" And the view over the bay," recited Roddy, " is—l forget how the guide book goes on. Anyway, you think I'll find her there? Splendid!" Without giving her time to reply, he rushed away to change, and appeared twenty minutes later in riding breeches, an old tweed jacket and a soft hat, that had seen better days, crushed carelessly on his head. Certainly, Roddy had an odd way of setting out to woo. At such times a man usually tries to look his best. Yet, following him down the drive with approving eyes, Bache felt a glow of pride in his manliness. In these rakish old clothes he was more truly Roddy than in the smart conventional lounge suit of the city. At the highest point of the Greybarrow, Roddy sat on a boulder and took out his pipe. Far away to the left and right stretched the sandy bay. Half a mile ahead the shoulder of Greybarrow terminated in a broken limestone scar, and below it, among the trees, the chimneys of Greyscar peeped out. But it was not altogether the view that brought the smile of anticipation to Roddy's lips. The figure of a girl was coming toward him up the rough track. Even at that distance he could admire the vitality and grace of her movements as she came on skipping lightly over the roughnesses. A liver-and-wliite spaniel ran in among the bracken ahead. *

The path now took her out of sight. A few minutes elapsed and the spaniel appeared, in hot-chase of an illusionary rabbit. Roddy called it and it came wagging its tail doubtfully. "Good hunting, old man?" said Roddy, and in the approved canine fashion the spaniel admitted Roddy into the circle of his affections. " Down, Bruiser, down." At the sound of that clear young voice, Roddy looked up with affected surprise, but the sight of the real living Pat drove pretence to the four winds. She was so much more vitally and intensely the Pat of his dreams that, those dreams seemed poor unworthy things. Roddy, who had played the game of love as a game of chess hitherto. realised, with something very like an electric shock, that love might bo a terrible thing—suppose Pat, this marvellous Pat, was not to be won bv so undistinguished a person as Roderick Chester, tea-planter? " My fault," said Roddy, and smiled with engaging frankness. "I'm fond of dogs. I suppose he knew it. " Oh, I don't know," said Pat, politely, as though excusing him. " Bruiser is not very discriminating. In fact, he's rather partial to tramps." Roddy laughed outright: He was prepared to swear she had guessed who he was. It was a delicate thrust —something to laugh over later. She half turned away, but the dimple at the corner of her mouth betrayed her.

" I wonder," asked Roddy, " if you could direct me to Colonel Gretton's."

You won't find him at home." answered Pat. " He's gone for a walk. What a pity. Had you an appointment 5 "

" Well, no. not exactly. My name is Chester. by the way. Roderick Chester."

That ought to do it, thought Roddy, but it certainly did not. For she looked at him with a blank expression as though the name conveyed nothing to her. Then, suddenly brightened. '' Of course, how stupid of me. I thought 1 had heard the name before. Old Benjamin was telling me some rambling story about a young Roddy who ■ was expected on holiday shortly. [ pictured a grubby little boy." She laughed, dark eyes dancing provok-

ingly. " You must be young Roddy." Little minx; but that was a game two could play. " I think I know who you are," eaid Roddy. " Shall I guess?"

" Who?" "'Pat's kid sister." Pat choked back a gasp of indignation, turned away suddenly and began to laugft> " Do you know Pat?" she asked. " Yes, I know Pat," said Roddy with meaning, " and if she gives me half a chance I'm going to know her a lot better."

Immediately Pat swung round, and the delicious fun in her eyes was a confession. Both began to laugh. " I deserved that." Impulsively she held out her hand. " Shake, Roddy. I'm fearfully thrilled to meet you at last." " Not half so much as I am." " a wanted to meet you first like this." " I know," agreed Roddy. " So did I." " You might have been —well —" " You couldn't have been—anything but Pat. Aunt Rachel's letters were full of you. She sent me snaps from time to time. 1 feel I've known you for ages." She nodded complete approval. " I think we're going to be pals, lloddy." Roddy could no longer keep his glowing admiration in check, but the covered it as best he could with a laugh of sheer exuberance. " Pat, you're an absolute topper." " Come on," she caught his hand and began to run. " Let's go and find Nunks. He should be back soon." Roddy stayed nearly an hour, but Colonel Gretton did not He left at last, promising tc tonic round at ten in the morning. " I'll go back by the shore," he suggested. " I may meet him." That evening Colonel Gretton was late for dinner. Pat told him excitedly of her meeting with Roddy. "So he's come?" exclaimed the Colonel. " I'm sorry I missed him. A pleasure in store for me to-morrow, eh?" Pat seemed to sense a lack of enthusiasm in his manner. He was trying to show pleasure because she was pleased. He looked abstracted, worried. Whatever the cause Pat felt ehilletl; she had plunged from the brightness ■of sunshine into grey shadoWs, shadows that held some unknown menace. CHAPTER XV On that first evening of Roddy's homecoming he and Rachel sat late into the night talking. There was so much to say, so many incidents to live again. A fascinating game this delving among treasures of the past, this revaluing, this sudden sense of wealth. At such times the hedges of reserve are often taken at a bound. Simple thought finds simple utterance. " You used to be fond of Colonel Gretton once?" Roddy asked. And Rachel. colouring faintly, answered with direct simplicity: " Yes, Roddy. I loved him." She paused, and then, smiling without a trace of pain, " We are .still very good friends." Roddy poked the fire into a blaze. " I'm glad, jolly glad. Do you know, I half expected to be frozen with a look and told to mind my own business. I suppose it sounded like great impertinence, but the fact is I—er—"1 —er —" he paused, uncertain how far to commit himself.

" I understand," said Rachel quickly. " Something is troubling you. Is it about Hugh? Whatever it is, tell me. Roddy. I'm worried about him, more worried than I can say." " You' would do a lot for him—to help him. I mean, if necessary, of course?"

She laughed softly. " Roddy, my dear man, I had better tell you. Hugh and 1 were once unofficially engaged. Fate drove us apart —that sounds terribly like melodrama, doesn't it?— but it's true. I have never wanted to

marry any other man. Now, do you understand?" " I believe 1 do," said Roddy, and squeezed her arm affectionately. " Forgive me, but I wanted to be sure before I told you what I knew. It's—well, to say the least, it's dangerous knowledge. It might shock, or at least hurt, you." " Then it is what I feared." " You know?" astonished. " Something, yes." "Something? Just what Rachel?" " Hugh's tragedy. He was always quixotic; ready to go to any lengths if once his sympathy was stirred. There was a young actress in London, Elaine Harrup. Her husband ill-treated her. Hugh told me all about it at the time. It was useless to warn him. He was going to see she got a fair deal —that was how he put it. And then one night this man was fdund —" " Murdered. You've got it," said Roddy tersely. " That's the root of the present trouble. But how did you know? 1 mean, you wouldn't dare to guess such a thing." " He told me. On his first leave from France he came to me and told me." "Ah! I see," exclaimed Roddy. " So he broke off the engagement?" " Yes. I refused to let him go; begged him to go to the police and face it out, but lie would not. He was not afraid for himself. He was on active service. The call of duty was stronger than the call of personal affairs. And then, afterwards, it Avas too late. We met only once in the next two years, and that was immediately after the war. Oh, but he was strong in his pride, strong in his determination that never must I be touched with the taint that had poisoned his own life." " Then lie did murder the chap?" said Roddy, and gave a low whistle. "Roddy!" The exclamation was sharp and horrified. " Well, I thought not, but when you said ' taint' I naturally—did he tell you how it happened, by the way?"

" Wo did not even discuss it," said Rachel. " There was no need. I know Hugh. And I understand now what ho meant by taint. He was afraid of this very thing; he felt ho would never again be safe. Someone else knew his secret."

" Williams and family," supplied Rodd.v dryly. " So, you see," Rachel smiled a trifle wanly, " 1 have a right to know. It is partly my—" she hesitated, unwilling to use the word that came nearest the truth, and for " my tragedy " substituted " my affair, too. Roddy, can we help? Can we do anything at all?" " 1 don't know," Roddy frowned thoughtfully. " Things are pretty desperate. There might have been a way. If it weren't for that little beetle Peck. That complicates things—badly, too. What's his little game, I wonder?" Roddy was so absorbed in the problem of Simon B. Peck that lie had quite forgotten Rachel had not yet heard the full account of Colonel Gretton's plight. He supplied it now, unconsciously devoting a deal of pain in describing the queerness of Peck. " Peek, I feel, is the greatest danger at the moment. T don't know why. All 1 know is, nothing would surprise me where he is concerned. He might even be John Smith himself."

" Oh, surely not," protested Rachel judiciously. " Else why did lie tell you all he did at his club? If he were John Smith it would be like giving himself away. 1 should think a blackmailer would be in danger as soon as any third person knew of his existence." " You'd think so." agreed Roddy. " But then, you don't know Peck. T may bo wronging him, but, if so, it's his own fault. Perhaps he is almost human.- but I haven't • noticed it yet." " What are you afraid of. Roddy? What do you think he may do?" Roddy laughed ruefully. " That's just it. I'm hanged if I know. We'll have to wait. But not so long, if I know anything about Peck. He'll be poking his inquisitive little nose round Sandilands before long." (To be continued daily)