BROCKLEBANK'S ADVENTURE

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIII, Issue 22390, 9 April 1936, Page 21

BROCKLEBANK'S ADVENTURE

CHAPTER XlV.—(Continued) Brocklebank spent some rapturous / minutes contemplating the various means he might employ to get in touch with Pamela and give her the surprise of her life- He thought rather well for B time of letting himself out of the flat, and risking any encounter that "jnight occur outside in the process of letting Pamela know of his existence. Finally, he turned his back on the jjoor again, pulled his coat over his and in/the security of a lightjroof tent ventured to put on his torch trhile he indited a letter to Pamela 0 n a sheet of his pocket book. "Bandit here." he wrote. It was pretty shaky writing owing to tho

"Bandit here, but wishes to stay " put for the time. Se we won't talk. Everything going Al. Letter found. Uncle George winning his war, hands down. Pass this back, for safety. Think hard about the delights of Port-Miou. .■ I am. "P.S. —Did you make them carry you on board." Brocklebank folded this missive into a flat spill and switched off his light He poked the spill behind the partition and waggled it about. Nothing happened. Brocklebank gave two taps on thp wood. He calculated that they would 'not be noticed at any distance amid the noises of tho boat. That did it. He felt a pull, and the spill was drawn away from his fingers. He sat with his eves glued on the bow of light all that eternity till the spill came back. "Oh. Bandit!" It was certainly a worse scrawl than his; no girl ever by any chance had a sharp pencil or a knife to sharpen a blunt one. "Oh, Bandit! You are priceless. How do you do it? I'm simply hugging myself. Uncle George will expire with joy. - But be careful. We're calling somewhere down the coast for Charles and the two thugs. Odds would be heavy against successful resistance. Bide your time. Wait and see. Reculer port-miou sauter, so to speak. If we have to go % long voyage —well, what about that f "P.S.—I walked on board." Brocklebank said to the spill, "You're f * witch—a tantalising little witch 1" Then he wrote on another sheet of his book: "I'll be careful. If we have to go a long voyage so much the better. When you get tired of hugging yourself, apply to me. ... " Almost exactly an hour it was when the engine cut out and the boat slowed down. Brocklebank was alert for every sound from outside. He heard the splash of oars He felt the impact of a boat coming alongside. Footsteps . • • voices . . . splashing oars dying away. An opening door — „ , Tm " Second on the right, Charles. 1 11 come along to y,ou directly. You 11 find a switch." , The engine rumbled and the boat vibrated again. Stubbs had joined the partv and the trip was being resumed. Brocklebank, listening in the dark, became aware that, despite the noises of locomotion /by motor he could hear everything that went on in the second on the right. The partition must be .very thin. . He got his head against the boards. When Worth came along, flung open the door and said, " Well, Charles—once aboard the lugger, eh?" Brocklebank's impression of the possibilities of His Yistenrng post was amply confirmed IWorth seemed to be speaking into his ear. " You know, Henry, I suppose you ve reasoned it all out. But I can't help • it's a mistake." " Bet you," said Henry. " I told yon not to come." " You're so cocksure! You re too cocksure! I'm not a bit pleased with the way things are going. I don't understand what's keeping that stock up. By all the rules it should have come down. Your father bought to-day at a fearful price. If anything went wrong, Henry, we should all be ruined!" " For an elderly man and a churchwarden, Charles, you're the most _dis- - mal Jimmy I ever came across. INow, my respected parent—" " I can't help what Sir Henry does. He's a lot wealthier than I am. What I read in the paper this afternoon gave me cold shivers. I stand to lose ten thousand if anything goes wrong, and I'm a ruined man!" "If the worst came to the worst, Charles, you're better off than the rest of us. You could always take up a collection for yourself in church, you know." The gruff voice made some indistinguishable reply, and then came three words that caused Brocklebank to stiffen—" plot ".. . " Brown wood " . . . /" Tolefree ..." Charles, it seemed, while trying to find out what was the influence which kept up the price of Staras stumbled upon a suggestion that Lord Brownwood knew something about it. Being aware that Lord Brownwood and Tolefree were acquainted, Charles conceived the alarming suspicion that Tolefree, who was a regular terrier for smelling out rats, had smelt out the plot—- " The plan, Charles," said Worth. Plot is such a nasty word for describing an honest business deal. Remember how angry you got with Farley I" Plan or plot or deal, said Charles, if Tolefree had smelt it out . . . but the mischief was that no one could draw back now. ' "Of course not, Jeremiah I Who i wants to draw back? It's a glorious . adventure. 1 love the notion of pitting • my wits against Tolefree's." " Yon're a born gambler, Henry—and I'm not." " Oh yes you are, Charles, or you couldn't have made all your money. You're a gambler all right, but you're not a born adventurer. You don't thrill to it! But cheer up!-—I've got a pleasant surprise for you. George and Pamela are on board." " What!" cried Charles. " Whoa!—not too much noise. Yes they're with us for the trip." " Good gracious, Henry!—you've never been so foolish as thatl" " Indeed I have just to avoid being bo foolish as to leave 'em at home. Charles, my venerable friend, we're in for some exciting moments. I've got another surprise for you—" Brocklebank. with the recollection of Stubb's face at Wolston Manor in his I tmnd's eye could see his pasty countenance getting pastier . . . | " Real surprise this time. Charles—there's a boat on our track. Police boat, 1 guess." / Brocklebank heard Stubb's groan. cl interesting, Charles. Knows you're right: the plot's discovered!" " Jhen what in hell's name—" Eh? Charles!—that's the first K'aif }j VS pj y°u sa y a had word. "Are you mad, Henry? If that's true, we're ruined!" Oh, brethren," Brocklebank sighed | | ? "imeslf in the darkness, "let us Sincerely hope sol" Henry was chuckling. "No, I wink not, Charles. Indeed I'm certain re not. If T were ashore instead of ,4fioat. do you know what I'd do? I'd Staras from now till next Friday S *°P price 1 could get for 'em." —quite mad," muttered Stubbs. . 'No so, Charles. What's needed to •Bock the bottom out of Staras and Jive 'em down till nobody'll buy them - fourpence a time? Just the news ' »Ut <dear old Korlovitch has received

By R. A. J. WALLING , Author of " The Man with the Squeaky Voice, cm

AN EXCITING STORY OF A "PRIVATE WAR"

(COPYRIGHT!

assistance which will enable him to start in and eat up Prilenko. Well, Charles—that news is coming." "But if, as you say, the plot's discovered —" "Ah, yes, Charles. It's really great, that discovery 1 Our clever friends, probably through Farley via Brocklebank, or perhaps through some folly of that nit-wit Norrie, have got wind of something doing to-night. The police will see, perhaps, a meeting between a motor boat and a ship—well outside the three miles limit, remember, Charles —and Greenwood may warn Prilonko to look out for that ship " "Well —won't that be enough, Henry? You know that as soon as Prilenko gets wind of the ship, tho game's up. It's ruination —just plain ruination!" moaned Stubbs., "Calm 3*ourself, my dear Charles. Be quite easy in your mind. When I said the police had discovered the plot I omitted to say that they'd discovered the wrong plot." "What!" cried Stubbs, and Brocklebank on his side of the partition was tempted to cry out as well. "Yes —the wrong plot. I'll let you into a secret. Suppose that later on, when we get well out into the North Sea and reach our objective, the police should be unwise enough to get very inquisitive —suppose, for instance, that old Greenwood should have ordered them to risk insisting on an examination of the ship—what should little Henrv do?" "Heavens knows! Bluff it out if he could, perhaps." "Not at all, my dear Charles. !No need for bluff. He would invite them to come on board and carry out-any inquisition they pleased. And what would they* find, Charles? A perfectly innocuous, very small, and easily ,displayed general cargo, consisting chiefly of agricultural implements; the papers in perfect order; the captain s instructions from his charterers to call off the Thames for orders from me. Brocklebank, listening with all his ears, was crying out in his mind, ' Then why—why —why—?" "Then why—why—why— ? It was as though Stubbs spoke for him. "Can't you see, Charles? As soon as George declined to come in with me — the priceless old Puritan and cut up rough, and went off to America to pry round, even a mental defective ought to have been able to see that my or }S" inal plan had gone west. Nobody aid seem to see it — not even my highly respected progenitor. I judged that Id better act alone. And I did, Charles. Brocklebank could almost see Henry rubbing his hands. "So that Vinni combe s letter to Prilenko became of no importance—or only of minor importance," he went on. "Then," Stubbs rumbled, why all this stupid business of chasing and kidnapping? Why are we cooped up in a thing like this with George and the girl ?" Worth chuckled. „ , All a part of Plan No. 2, Charles to keep everyone's mind fixed on Plan No. 1. And it's worked like a charm. Even that damned idiot, Rovigo, pulling guns in New York, helped the good work along. yr t "Helped! Good gracious, Henry, sweat whenever I think of it. Suppose he should have pulled the trigger? Worth chuckled again . " Well, give the devil his due, Charles. Rovigo says he had do more idea of shooting old George than of blowing up the New York Stock Exchange. He'd just seen him come out of Vinnicombe's, and the notion occurred to him that George might have been there to steal a copy of the letter to Priienko. That's the sort of notion that would occur to a Rovigo! Anyhow he says he was going to hold faun up and get it out of him—no more than that. It was just what might have given him a hint that he was barking up the wrong tree. But Brocklebank happened like a miracle. Thank God for Brocklebank!" " Amen!" said Stubbs. Brocklebank wondered whether lie ought to blush. " He's a hulking great blunderhead, and he's had the devil's own luck. Brocklebank decided not to blush. Uut he undoubtedly saved my scheme. JNow listen, Charles, we've kept everyone busy on the original plan, with the results we're going to see to-night, lhink of it, Charles! We've got em all wondering where and why we ve gone and whom we're going to endow with a choice collection of ploughs, harrows, and reapers. Meanwhile, there will be another _ ship with a choice trvst next Friday at a Q"'te different rendezvous, and by baturday the wires will be melting with orders to sell Staras a/t any old price they'll fetch." " Another ship? What are you talking about, Henry?" " The one Vinmicombe 8 chartered for mo at New Orleans, Charles —and you're the first man I've mentioned it to—the ship that sailed a fortnight ago with instructions to reach the new rendezvous in exactly three weeks." Stubbs was silent. Brocklebank imagined his pale face registering astonishment. , , „ "Well. Henry," he growled after tlip pause, " very clever of you. Not very complimentary. But undoubtedly clever. You relievo me." And then a Stubbsian comment: "It must have cost a pot of money, though!" " That's like you, Charles." Henry was chuckling. " A sprat!—the merest sprat to cateh a whopping great mackerel. Hello!—that's George. Not a word to him. Come right in, George. Here's Charles." Brocklebank heard movements, and Harrison-Clifford's deep voice. " How 'do, Charles? I just looked in to ask how much further we're supposed to be going in this rattletrap." " Well, George—it's not so much a question of distance as of time," said Worth. " We have a date off the North Foreland at or about 4 a.m. I was just about to advise Charles to lie down and take a snooze. You might tell Pamela and do the same yourself. It's a dead calm night. You won't be disturbed. Have a drink? I'll get one. Take half of Charles' pew while I fetch it." Brocklebank heard him go down tho passage. " Charles," said Harrison-Clifford, " I'm beginning to doubt Henry's sanity." " I began to myself," Stubbs replied. "But there's a method in his madness." " I'd rather hav<> a disorderly madman than a methodical one. Charles. You don't for a moment think he can bring this off, do you?" " [ was afraid he wouldn't, George, but he's convinced rae. Here he is . . ." A tinkling of glasij on tray. " Here's confusion to your knavish tricks, Henry, and may they fail to land you in gaol," said Harrison-Clif-ford. " I guess we must now be somewhere near the Nore. I suggest, Henry, that you should call, it a day, run into Sheerness and put us ashore, go up to town at once, advise your father to clear out of the gamble and then forget all about it."

" Why should I do anything so eccentric, George, at the very moment when the old man has his hand on a colossal fortune?" " Because, my dear Henry, the fortune's just Rhine gold. He won't touch it. But suppose jou do get your stuff out there, doesn't it mean anything to you that lots of men are going to die because you've done it?'' "Bo a realist, George—not a sentimental old woman. You and I know our men. Korlovitch will have 'em all crawling in two days. You know you love old Korlovitch just as much as I do." (To be continued daily)