The Lion's Mouse

New Zealand Times, Volume LI, Issue 12017, 20 December 1924, Page 13

The Lion's Mouse

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT, ~~

By

C.N. & A.M. Williamson

Author of "This Woman to this Man," "The Urhtnin. ‘ The Car ot Destiiy," a C t &c * Conductor." (COPYRIGHT.)

SYNOPSIS OS’ PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. CHAPTERS I. to in.—On the Santa I'e, Limited, Roger Sands meets a besfatiful young woman, who claims protection from a threatened danger. She gives her name as Beverley White, and passes as his cousin.. She remains hidden for the rest, of the journey while Roger takes charge of the sealed envelope that Beverley fears to lose. At Chicago she is to meet a man at the, news-stand. Forty-five minutes later she has , to Own that she does not what to do since the messanger who is to claim the 'envelope has not turned up. Roger Sands - marries her by special license, 'and they go to New York together. On the same, day Clodagh Riley, an Irish girl; gets- a position as waitress in Moreton and Payntor's department store, in New York. . Six months after’ marriage Mrs Sands decides to view the satinwood fur-, niture at Moreton and Payntor's. She goes there in a motor. A girl has. thrown \ herself out of a- fourth story window.' and lies wounded and bleeding on the pavement. The girl opens her eyes, and. Beverley promises that she shall he loved-and cared'for. CHAPTERS £p. (Continued); to V.-iA i dpetor' arrives. • The ambulance sent for has been delayed by an accident. , Bever* [ ley Sands takes the girl .to his own home;' land engages'a• trained nurse. Roger Sands’ 'disapproves of his wifo's action. ■Sister Lake allows the child-to see Mrs I Sands. The invalid vows, to repay some j day.. John Heron refuses Rogers' invltar Won.,. Beverley is relieved. Roger and ; his wife disagree, .but make it up. Clo- ,' dagh 'Riley .-tells her story to Beverley. - When she is., convalescent Mrs Salads takes her a drive. .As they are about to step in the car a shabby, ill-looking man addresses. Mrs Sands. He is the .man sent to meet her in Chicago on September | 81st of last year. CHAPTER VI TO Vlll.—They drive to Central Park. Beverley leaves Clo Riley in the car; but afterwards'rejoins her. She instructs Clo what to do. and - they drive home. Mrs Sands leaves Clo in

the car and darts in to get the envelope. She is a quarter of an boar. Finally' she saves do thA-envelope in sr lx®. Clo drives to the Westmorland Hotel, and delivers the 'envelope to the lii&e ferret-faced man who spoke to Mrs : Sands- He opens it to find nothing hut blank papers, and is full of 'wrath. Clo hurries hack with the man's message fn-r Beverley, and has an interview with .her 1 nurse._ Roger buys a queen's pearls for his wife. She rushes into her bedroom 1 with the rope of pearls round her neck. The, rope catches, and breaks.; ~„Phe thrusts the pearls into a drawer 'and tears down with an envelope to Clo. She returns’'to find Roger, has, up if ■pearl. Her .explanation does, nob, satisfy him, and he goes out. l Returning home' he sees Clo Riley returning from the Westmorland Hotel. Clo persuades her Irish nurse to go ont for. a change. She tells Beverley about; the. dnvelope „ond the man's rage. Bcverlej w’ants to trust Clo* and the girl promises jto be-trued?

CHAPTER IX.—THB'B&tJT'B* iHAT [ FAlTigp. “Toti must tell mo!’ 1 Beverley in•listed. “Tali'me to onoal" . “While Mr O’Reilly is here with yon, Missßiley, without the ‘O’ will bes : at hia hotel, in his room, helping herself to hia-41 mean your—papers:’ 1 -- . “My child, you’re mad!” Beverley i ‘‘Not. eo. mad ae he’ll he, when he finds out- Hurray! The whole business I is settling itself in my head. Tlje one trouble-is Mr Sands. The rest will be all right. 1 Think what to do about him, Angel; think hard 1” Tfeverley thought until her brain whirled. “I might suggest Roger’s dining at his dub, she said. “But how l should hate to do that! He’s vexed already*

he.has a right to bel This afternoon he gave me awonderfulpreseqt, a rope of pearls that belonged to a queen. It must have cost a quarter of, a million! I hal liardly stopped to 1 thank him. I was in such frantic haste to get the. envelope to you. The rope caught in the hey of a drawer f the: string/brokp,; and * lot. of. pearls ’ nan ' sdl ,pyer the, carpet. I didn’t wait to pick them -.up. I ran down to you, and 1 was gomeiso long Roger went to my room - to’ look: ..for me. I came hack and found' him -picking up pearls; I felt: my 'excUaes did more harm than good. Roger tended that he had an engagements I' sew by his ’face that he wanted,-to.iwalk oft his anger in the, fresh air. ’ If he does walk it oft—if he comes hade ready to make/up, and : I send him away again, perhaps that' will finish it 1 Things may never ho the same between us any; morel” . “He was angry because. yoU didn’t seem. ,to :care enough for hia present,” jsaid do. "But if you ckn put... him out of the house for an hour or go,' and at the same time prove that you adore the pearls.: how does that plan strike you! 6 ’ >■■■ “How could I do both ?” “Beg him to go fetch a pearl-stringer, and bring, her* back here himself, tonight. Bay, yon can’t rest or eleep till the/pearls *afe restrung.” “You forget itls Sunday, and - , ’ “I don’t forget. 'But I know apearlstringex. ‘She isn’t just any old pearlstringer, who might -thread on a wax bead here and there, and keep a pearl or two up her sleeve. She’s the:best pearl-stringer in New York. :The bigjewellers and kits of swell society women have her. It’s queer the, way I came to know her, hut it makes: it- good for us,, We were crossing a street, she; and I. I didn’t know the woman fromAdam—Eve I mean. But it was slippery, and she missed her footing. I grabbed her back, just in time, and held her up. She’s a little woman, no big-' oer than me. or I couldn’t haTe done it. But I’ got her on the sidewalk again, and she grateful. She’s Irish, too,and she invited me to go and see her the next Sunday. It’s out at Yonkers, where she lives, in a nice little house she’s bought. I went there once. She' saidif she oould do something for me/ she’d love to. It’s no favour I’ll he asking, except for her to come out on a Sunday evening. So the only thine; is to fetch her. Do you think Mr Sands will go?” "It depends upon how he. feels when be comes in,” paid Beverley. “But Sister Lake would never let y&u out again.” "T shan’t ask her. I’ll get up and dress, while you see if Mr Sands is had?. Tf I hear from von that all’s well. I’ll slip out before Sister comes.” 'Will, you’re wonderful 1” _ Beverley exclaimed. “How can I ' thank you enough?” "Thanks from you to mo! That’s'

good! Just wait, Angel 'anyhow, till I’ve done something. Oh, I forgot to give you the pearl-stringer’s address. It’s Miss Blackbume, 27, Elm street, Yonkers. And tell Mr Sands to men tion my name. It might make a difference. _ She doesn’t , like leaving her mother in the evenings, but she’d do it fbr f me.”

Beverley .'was gone . for fifteen minutes. When she flew in again she « r aa surprised to see Oo in bed: as be-' fore, - But hardly was the door closed when the girl threw back the ooverlet, to show .that she was fully dressed. , “I was afraid that Sister might pop in—by an evil chance,” she explained, "I’ve only to put on my hat. Well, is it all right?” , “Roger will go,” said Beverley. He’s 'phoning how for. his car. I’m putting off dinner till half-past eight, so ..he can have plenty of time to get 'hoane and change. Hie didn’t make any difficulty when I told him about the pearl-stringer and wanting her at once.' Ho agreed wRh mo that it would be best to do such an errand himself, if it were to be done. And' he was very kind. But his manner was different.: I’m frightened.” “Don’t be,” said 010. She wae up now, had pinned on her pretty white hat, and was fastening her smart lit” cape. I’il go fifst to the Westmorh and see onr man;. said he’d be in waiting till .ten. tell him things are: in the train, but he must give yon till midnight, if necessary. l Prom there perhaps I can ’phone the Dietz Hotel, It wouldn’t he safe here. By that time O’Reilly ought to be in his room dressing for dinner/ - He’il see me, I’m sure, and the .rest will arrange itself. Now, I’m , off before Mr Sands’s mobile comes' or Sister Bake. If she ifinds the door shat and all. quiet she’ll think Pm asleep. Go hack to your husband. Angel, and I’ll slip away on my oivn-i’ ' t

.‘T.ve .'brought money for you,” said Beverley. “Take this purse.- There’s change for taxis and lots of hills besides—fifty or sixty dollars.” ■*> Two 1 minutes later Clo -was in the street. The first thing that happened tp; her was a small piece of luak. She had been dreading the walk to a taxistand, when she saw a car about to drive away from a house near by. It was'al public vehicle. 010 hailed him, and gave the Westmorland as her destination. “Mr Peterson?’ was in, according to promise. ; - “Yoru again, is it? I looked for Mrs Sands;” ..

.“I’m her- messenger for the second time/’eaid. probably I shall bo .tar' the thirds when it comes to settling up. If yon get what yon •wantj ’tt doesn’t matter who brings it, I sumfoeeP” “Then you-snppose Wrong. My business' is with a woman, not a hid! 1 AH th«’*same,' if, you’ve got anything for mor-n —” • , 1 ■ ■ . ■ - ‘SC haven’t—yet!” do snapped him up. " “It isn’t time. But I’m on to where the thing is, and how to get it. Only it may take till after ton That’s what I came to say.” “Save your* breath!' t Ten o’clock’s the time. If she don’t want me to go hack on my -bargain she’d, better not go back on hers. ” V He looked more , than ever like a ferret, the gjrl thought. “Mip Sands made no bargain as to*, tiroe,” she said. “And talking of time, what about the time you’ve .done?”

’ Peterson save a cackling laugh. “ : W!hot , a‘ the female for ‘Smart Aleck’ ?” he sneered. "My gardeens wished' me good-bye and; Gord bless me whan the nine months they run me in for was wp.” ■ -do thought she could come close to guessing what the charge had been, and it would-hare needed more than the word of a ferret to assure her of his The man was a born ' sneak-thief or pick-pocket. His hands Were slim and small as a girl’s. Perhaps if temptation had been put in .his way while he “waited at the news['standi” .he had been üßwble to resist. Not that' the girl much cared as to , .this detail; it was not her affair. But -it was odd; almost “creepy,” how the links were.; being joined together in 1 the: chain -of evidence against O’Reilly, the man who had followed Angel into the Limited—the plan against whom Gla had presently to try her wits. Whijt concerned her most was that the'.first attempt at bluff had: failed. Something in Petej-non’s manner fdreedber, to believe that he had i/ideed 1 SOrrod oUt his full sentence iiid forthfc: moment had. nothing .to car, from the police. Clodagb Kid ner disappointment with a little swagger. \ ' "It suits us just aa well as you to finish up at ton o’clock and get it over,” she said. "If we can, we will.' If Wo can’t, you’ll have to wait. The way things are, you have to be in with us, .you see,’not against us.” “Ohj do I? I ain’t so sore!” he flung hack. ; “I ain’t sure my fine madam's not in the game t’other way round—and her husband, too. I know now that she and Roger Sands travelled in the same train from where she atartoc). Blowed if I see why she’d do;: it,, hut it might be they fixed a fraane-up between them. I can see why it would suit Sands, if it wouldn’t b#v, ahd a man’s stronger than a wojjan.- ; i Sands was working for John. Heron at the time. That means a lot.” "It ’doesn't mean that Mrs Sands would be disloyal to her word. I know she’s, true as steel,” Clo insisted. She Spoke crisply, but her thoughts wander- .«• They had caught at the name of John Heron; Beverley had never mentioned. it. The girl had no means of guessing how it might bear upon the cane now in her small determined bands. She did not see how," or where, she oould have heard it before, yet it did not sound strange to her. The feeling she had on hearing it puzzled and-oven thrilled her vaguely. It was ns if the man, “John Heron,” had been whispered into her ear in a dream-—a dream not forgotten,; but buried under other things in her bran. The girl was suddenly alert. There was, one thing she knew with straining certainty.-, In that buried dream there were other sounds connected with the whispered name: sounds of sobbing, as of •someone crying in the dark. "Anyhow,” Peterson went on, “there was. a frame-up, and those that was in -it baa got to pay mo for w-hat I went through. That’s partly , why I’m hare in Noo York. If I don’t have

those papers by ten I’ll show up at bis , Cat and a& for the missis.” “You wouldn't. find Mr Sands at (home,” the girl out in. “He’s out. When he comes back he’s likely to go away again at once.” “Aw, he is, is he?” echoed Peter, son. Bis personality waked up seoretively, like that of some weak, night animal hiding in a wood. Clo eyed him, striving to make him out. “Better go "home, kiddy,” he ad vised. His tone was good-natured. “Shall I see you back to where you live, or—” . - “I have another errand, to do,” the girl announced with dignity. She had meant to telephone from the Westmorland to the Dietz (and learn if Justin O’Reilly was in; but now she determined. not to do so. Better waste a little time .rather than Betorson snonld hear her inquiring for O’Reilly. Instead of waiting to telephone, she Walked’to the door and asked a halfbaked youth in hotel livery to call her - a'.taxi. “If ferret-face trieo to follow I’ll lead him a dance S” aba thought. But ferret-face seemed to read her inind, and he willing to relieve it. “So Jong!” he said. “I*Ve got a job o’ work, tod. If will take me till

about ten. After that X shall be lookin’ fo! a calf He turned, bis Back and sauntered to the elevator. Beforo the taxi had arrived he had been shot up to regions above. • '' r , “So that’s aU right I” Clo muttered to herself,, spinning towards the Diets. Yet as she said the words, she wondered if it was all right. Why hail Peterson’s whole personality made, a kind of “lightning change’’ on hearing that Sands (whom .he, expressed a wish to see) would not be home that night ? Ought she to ’phone to Beverley and piut her on guard? Yes, she. would telephone from the Dietz, while waiting to see O'Reilly.- It; would be safe, because Roger by this time would be far away. CHAPTER X.—THE BLUFF THAT l WON. Justin Q’Reilly had a modest suite in the magnificent Dietz. It adjoined the luxurious 6uite of Mr and Mrs John Heron, and consisted of - a small, sit-ting-room, a bedroom, and hath. H e was tying his necktie ‘ when, the telephone bell rang. He grabbed the receiver as if it were a snake that had to be-throttled, .and gave it a grudging “Hello!” “A lady to see you,” a ivoice answered. ■ * .“She wasn’t, Y'm in, I hope P A nice thing. for regulated , hotel if- — - “No, hut she says it’s important. She’s Miss:O’Reilly.” - Mise O’Reillyt The man of that name was perplexed. The only Miss O’Reilly who, as far as he knew, could possibly call on him, wae the last wo-, man he would have expected to do so. Hie had come to New York largely in the hope of-seeing her. She . had refueed to see him. »

“Tell her I’ll he down, in three ! minutes,” he replied. > “She particularly loeen’t want you . ■ to come down. She says she has some private news for yon, and asks if you’ll ' see her in your own sitting-room.!’ ■ “All Tight,” he tried to answer i calmly. - Have the lady, shown up.V Ho rushed back to his bedroom >■ to ‘ wrestle once more with the tie. He must 1 be ; ready to receive Miss Reilly at - the door, and his waistcoat and coat were 1 yet to put on. But it could be managed. The suite was on the fifteenth floor, and a full minute’s walk from the lift for an old person like Miss O’Reilly. Bungling every tiling in his haste, -he tried to think what it might mean, t looked as if she must have changed her mind,- and he ready to seR him her- 1 house, the dear old house on which ho . Rad set his heart. Perhaps she would demand a higher price than he had of- 1 fered. Wall, he must pay it somehow. Heron would lend him the money— . but no,- there were reasons why O’Reilly ■ didn’t wish to accept favours from 1 Heron, often as they had been pressed I upon Rim. As he slipped into his ooat, ' he heard the expected rap at the sit- i

ting-door, and hurried to open it. A bell-boy, acting as guide, had run ahead of the lady, to knock. “Miss O’Reilly to see Mr O’Reilly.” he announced, with Irish relish or the Irish , name. Then he went. O’Reilly stood on the waiting for the right lady to appear, meanwhile dodged back from the wrong one, a small, slim flapper in white, who, for some reason had paused before; his door. She stood quite still, and.stared up at him unwinkingiy, as a child stares. . ' : “I beg your pardon,” O’Reilly said, .wanting to laugh. "May I pass- I must look for a lady who- ——” , V “I’m the lady,” the creature in white intervened. _ “That is, I am if you are Mr O’Reilly.” “O’Reilly’s my name,” he admitted. “But; 1 was expecting—or—perhaps my cousin sent you F” “Perhaps I am your cousin,” suggested- the girl, who (Justin saw, now that he looked her deliberately in the face) had the biggest, blaokest eyes, ; and the whitest skin he had ever seen. She had also red hair under a fetching -hat. Although the child no "beauty, die had an elfin air. “Delighted; I’m sure,” he felt obliged to answer.. “I thought I had only, one cousin in the world, Theresa p’Reilly, of'Gramercy Park. But —" “It sounds like the chorus of a song, •Theresa ! O’Reilly, , of Gramercy Park,’ ” Clo was unable to resist remarking, with her strongest brogue. “Will you please ask me in?” she said. “My errand’s very pressing.” ■ Mechanically the' man stepped aside and let her walk into the room. He began to suspect:; that he had been ’spoofed.” He did not inYite her to be seated, but looked at her expectantly* -Her first move’was/fo shut the ■ door.. She did not speak. . / “May I know your name?” he in- ; quired, as they faced each other. “The same as yours, but for a lettei or two,” said Old, marking time. “That’s why I may be a cousin; one never knows. I didn’t come to talk about the family tree* though, Mr O’Reilly; I came to beg—not. for money, so don’t be frightened.’ “I’m not conscious of fear,” laughed O’Reilly. He couldn’t help laughing. He didn’t believe the girl’s name was the ‘,‘same as his.” “If I’m not afraid, I' am curious,” 'he confessed. What are you going t<v beg for,- if not money? Is ft. a message from my ccusin-—P” . . , Clo ceased suddenly to be impish. She had got into the enemy’® fastness by her impishness, but she could go no fuTther on that linA. ■ This man, being the exact opposite of the typeexpected, upset her plan. A. big danger "was that she might like this ,

O'Reilly instead of bating him, be was , so pleasant and gallant-looking, more a protector than a persecutor of women.. She might hesitate to cheat or trick him, in whatever way came handy, and thus fail the Angel on top of all our boasts. ' In her hot-little heart 010 prayed for the wisdom of the serpent, and as her eliin face took on anxious lines, she became more puz- ’ zling, more interesting to O’Reilly. 1 Her white face looked pinched and desperate. ‘lf I were Marat, and she ‘ Charlotte Corday,” was the thought 1 that jumped into his head, “she would '■ stab me/’ ! “It’s a good thing for me vou have .1 a cousin, or maybe you wouldn’t have i let no in. X know now why God stave i

mo the name of Riley. I guess he’ll forgive me for borrowing the ‘o.’ I was obliged to get to you somehow. That was the ono wav I could think of.” “It was a pretty smart way,” O’Reilly mumbled. “But you haven’t- told “I will. . Only—l think I’ll have to sit down. I feel rather—queer ” “Good lordii You can’t faint here!” "I won't, unless you make me, I’ll promise that!” She had her cue now. “Sit down, for heaven's sake 1” said O’Reilly, pulling up the biggest chair in the room. 01 o sank into it. Closing her eyes, she drew in a gasrping breath which made her girlish bosom heave. .. The man stood by, feeling absurdly helpless. '“Shall I ring for brandy?” he suggested. “No —please I” She opened her great eyes again. “Only listen. I’ve come from Mrs Roger Sands—to fceg you for those papers of hers.” xTo be continued.)