WEB CENTRE

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIII, Issue 22352, 25 February 1936, Page 17

WEB CENTRE

(COPT RIGHT)

By RALPH TREVOR Author of "Death in the Stalls," "The Eyes Through the Mask," etc., etc.

AN ENTHRALLING STORY OF MYSTERY, LOVE AND ADVENTURE

CHAPTER IK.—(Continued) Mr. Badger listened to what Peter had to tell him, which was largely the story of the previous night's strange events, but he purposely omitted any reference to his suspicions against Vorsada in another inquiry which had been entrusted to him. If events, however, made it necessary to take Badger completely into. his confidence, Peter felt that his servant would understand the situation precisely. " I don't know yet," he went on, " whether you will bo able to identify any of these people, Badger, but you once told me that you have a remarkable memory for faces. If things do turn out badly I know that I can rely on your discretion. Now, your first task will bo to look after Miss Santley, for I have a good reason to believe that some attempt may be made to get her away from here. You understand that, Badger?" Badger nodded. " You trust me, sir," he answered enthusiastically. " And if I do come up against anyone who might remind me of the past I'll be letting you know, sir." It was at that moment the door opened and Maryon Santley entered the room. She still wore her evening gown from the previous night, and though her face was pale, Peter Worthing's heart pounded as he looked her. Badger, sprang to his feet immediately. " I hope I am not intruding, Mr. Worthing," she smiled. " I'd no idea until I reached the landing that you had a visitor." Peter laughed. " Hardly a visitor, Miss Santley. Allow me to introduce to you Badger, my trusty knave. Ho knows me almost better than I do myself, don't you, Badger?" " Certainly, sir," replied Badger correctly. " If you should be granting mc, sir. ..." " Nonsense, Badger. Miss Santley is in your charge from this moment. I will hold you responsible for her safety until I return. I warn you both," he continued, " that I may not even return to-night. I'm off back to London just as fast as [ can go. If I don't return by the morning I will make arrangements for some clothes for Miss Santley to be sent down by express delivery. In the meantime, Mrs. Cundle has kindly offered to find Miss Santley some garments rather more suitable for morning wear than those she now possesses." He turned to Maryon. " You can trust Badger absolutely," he told her. " He's a perfect model of all the proprieties, and as for his efficiency . . . you've only got to take a look at him to see how remarkable he is.'' Maryon Santley smiled, although she felt far from gay. It was true she had slept, but it had been only when the dawn had come and when sheer mental and physical exhaustion had captured her. She turned to Peter questioningly: " You have no news, then?" He shook his head. " There's hardly been time for that, but Mrs. Cundle fetched me my morning newspaper, and that told me everything I want to know for the present." He saw her lean forward eagerly in her chair, her eyes wide with expectancy. " What does it say?" she breathed, whisperinglv. He laughed at her fears. " Exactly nothing," he told her. " Then. ..." " It means, my dear, that for some reason we have yet to discover, Mr. Vorsada has not mentioned that little matter of last night to the police." A new light illuminated the girl's face, and brought a blob of colour back to her cheeks. " Do you think it means that . . . that he is not dead . . . that man?" " I should say that's about the shape of it," replied Peter cheerfully. " Perhaps the fellow had nine lives, and you were early in the list. Now, I must be off. Mrs. Cundle has received her instructions, too." He arose and crossed over to the girl, taking her hands in his own. Their eyes mot. " I want you to trust me . . . Maryon," ho whispered. " I want you to do just whatever I tell you, and if you do I feel certain we'll get out of this tangle before very long. But we've got to tread warily. And now the first thing I want you to do is to write mo a note to someone at your home, giving me permission to take away some clothing for you. You must not say where you are staying. Just say that you have accepted an invitation to stay with friends, and that it is inconvenient for you to get back for a few days. That ought to do it, don't you think?" Maryon nodded as he indicated the writing desk, where materials were laid out for her to comply with his request. CHAPTER X. Peter Worthing's drive to London on that Sunday morning had been decided on in the early hours, when he had sat up in th-> chair before the fire, fearful to go to bed lest harm should come to Maryon Santley. He had worked out a rough plan, which was even now only just beginning to take definite shape in his tumultuous mind. He had realised that the first step must be to seek the assistance of Badger. That gentleman had been told to expect him by mid-dav on the Sunday, so that he know he could always get into communication with the man. And certainly if anyone was capable of rendering help in this crisis, that man was Badger. He had had Badger for the past seven years, and his acquisition of the man had come about in rather an unconventional manner. It had so happened that one morning early, when driving past the forbidding gates to Wormwood Scrubs, those gates had opened, and Mr. Badger had emerged into the maelstrom of freedom. Peter had never seen a man walk out of prison before, and the sight interested him. There had been something about Badger that appeared remarkable. In the first place he had scorned the attentions of tho blackcoated mission gentleman who had approached him, and also the offer of a mug of cocoa and a sandwich from the Prison Mission cart that stood waiting to minister to tho wants of the unfortunate. Badger had made his refusal politely, but with a certain dignity that struck Peter as being altogether remarkable. The man was well proportioned physically. He had a certain bearing" that was unquestionably impressive. Now at that moment Peter Worthing was " man-less." His previous factotum had fallen for the lure of military service and had enlisted. And just why Peter should" have acted in the way he did, he never paused to analyse. It was probably one of those instinctive things that occasionally creep into one's habits of life. Anyway, Peter slowed down his car to a crawl and watched the drama, for drama it undoubtedly was to Peter, of a man exuded from the grey maw of the prison. By now Peter had pulled up by the kerb and he opened the door of his expensive saloon just as the discharged prisoner drew abreast of him. " Good morning." Peter had greeted him smilingly. Would you like a job?" Mr. Badger, who had been masquerading under a numerical system for 12

months, paused and looked at Peter from under inquisitive There was a gleam of inherent suspicion in that look that Peter was not slow to notice. " Might 1 inquire what that has got to do with you?" Mr. Badger sounded quite definitely rude. " Nothing whatever, except that I'm looking for such a man as you to look after mo, and if you've nothing in prospect . . Mr. Badger made no effort to continue his nameless way. " What sort of a job?" he asked, and Peter noted that the surly edge had gone from his voice. " Just keeping an eye on me," smiled Peter. " You know, reminding me when I feed, and what time I should be in bed. I'm quite an agreeable sort of fellow, really, you know. I think we d suit each other wonderfully. How about it?" Mr. Badger had stood clothed in thought for several minutes. His quick eyes appraised Peter completely, and then ran themselves along the pleasing lines of the saloon car. " You're the first bloke who's spoken civil to me for 12 months," admitted Mr. Badger admiringly. "And I've a mind to take you at. your word. I do need a job, and that's true. And lr you wants references, Mister, the Governor will give you one as long as you like," and he jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the building he had just left. " Not that it might be a good one, Mister, he added, with a twisty smile. "I don't need references, thank you," smiled Peter. " I take men as I find 'em. You look ' the goods ' to me. Hop inside, old fellow, and when we get back to my place we'll see if you approve." And Mr. Badger, mentally stunned by the suddenness of the situation, had duly " hopped in " and a moment later felt himself being driven away by the Honourable Peter Worthing. That was how it had happened, and for seven years Mr. Badger had given every satisfaction to this gentleman, a point about which the said Mr. Badger felt justifiably proud. Peter had never questioned him much, except perhaps jocularly, on the reason for his incarceration at His Majesty's expense. At odd times, during those seven years, Mr. Badger had made suitable comments on the prison system on appropriate occasions. .Beyond that, the relationship between tho two men continued to be pleasant and quite uneventful. During the journey Peter felt that Maryon could not be in better hands than those belonging to Badger. The man was one hundred per cent capable, and an enual permntage reliable. Peter, too, had felt that once Badger was safely at The Cottage he could leave himself free to develop a plan of campaign against Yorsada, to ascertain, as far as he could, just how matters really stood, although he knew, after what the girl had told him, that he could not go to Scotland Yard and lay all the facts before his uncle. That would be altogether too precipitate. Later, perhaps, he might find it necessary to seek the intervention of officialdom. For the present he was prepared to work on his own, and in this decision he firmly believed he was acting in the best interests of the girl and her father. Peter felt, too, that having given harbourage to the girl,-"Vorsada was likely to place him immediately on his black list, and he knew that Vorsada was a person who would stop at nothing if he believed anyone was standing between himself and something on which he had set his heart. So Peter had worked it all out. He would most certainly not go to the flat in Half Moon Street. Arrived in London he garaged his car in a strange garage, and signed his name in the register of a small hotel in the neighbourhood of Wilton Street, close to Victoria Station. The proprietor, a Greek, was well known to him, and he greeted the Honourable Peter with ill-concealed enthusiasm. Peter explained that " bis man " was away for the week-end, and as he himself had just arrived in town, he had d ocided that it would be better for him to partake of Mr. Polukolos' hospitality than sleep at his flat and feed at clubs. Mr. Polukolos was pleased at the compliment, and assured him of his best attention. Peter's first task, after a bath, was to telephone Sir Maxwell Clayton at his Knightsbridge house. Uncle Maxwell was none too well pleased when he heard his nephew's voice, and reminded him of his exhortation never to use the telephone during the course of his unofficial investigations. " That's all very well, uncle darling," protested Peter, " but it so happens that there's some information I want, and I want it quickly. It's important." Sir Maxwell growled u condescension. " Well, what is it?" he asked. " I want all the information you can let me have immediately concerning Robert Santley and the Santley Finance Trust. I want to know how their shares have been going lately, and what the general position is. I also want to know whether V. holds any shares in the company, and also the date of any forthcoming meetings of the Santley concern. You may also add to this as full a list of the companies in which V. is interested as you can. And then, when you've got that through, I want you to find out whether V. has any Continental police record. Oh, and by the way, you don't happen to have heard of any murders in the past few hours, do you?" Peter heard his uncle emit a noise reminiscent' of a recalcitrant steam engine. "Murders? Look here, Peter, you haven't allowed this thing to affect your brain, have you? You're not on a murder hunt. All 1 asked you to discover was something about Vorsada. Up to date, I don't recall anything in any of your reports that has been different from what we already know." " Does that mean I am dismissed from the service," mimicked Peter, unabashed. " Because, if so, I'm thinking of taking a palatial suite of offices in the West End and setting up business as a criminal consultant, which I think sounds heaps better than ' private inquiries.' " Sir Maxwell mentioned the word " rot " several times, and then inquired where Peter could bo found. " That's better," thought Peter, as he hung up, "and now I think I'll take a blow out to St. Albans." At Santley Lodge, St. Albans, Peter duly presented Maryon's note to a timid-looking housekeeper, who forthwith invited him inside. " Will you be taking Miss Maryon's luggage with you, sir," she questioned. " Or will you have someone call for it?" " I was thinking of asking the Express people to take it," Peter told her, and then realised his mistake. He certainly did not want anyone at Santley Lodge just then to know Maryon's address. " On second thoughts," he laughed, " perhaps I'd bettor take it away with mo just in case 1 get back to tho country myself before morning. I explained to Miss Santley that I didn't know how I'd be fixed." The housekeeper did not keep him very long before she returned with two large leather cases, which she handed to a manservant to take out to Peter's car. " You don't know, sir, when the master and Miss Maryon will be returning?" she inquired. "The master said he expected to be home to-morrow." (To be continued daily)