The Lion's Mouse

New Zealand Times, Volume LII, Issue 12042, 21 January 1925, Page 4

The Lion's Mouse

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

By

C.N. & A.M.Williamson.

(Toman to tHisMan," "The Mining Conduct > " The. Car or Dfstiny, ot., VC..

' ' tCOPYUIGH.T I. !

CHAPTER X3?XIX —OBTAINING THE DOCUMENTS —(Continued), •In answer to his Wife»s appeal; “Do you think me a-murderess? held her closer. “No, my .darling, he said “You didn't kill Bouis Moreno. He couldn't have lived, many weeks. The doctor had warned John Heron, l love you' more than ever for what you’ve hone through. Its you who should hate me for my cruelty and suspicion. But thero were some things that'tried • mo .rather hard. Why didn’t you toll me this Story Jong ago? Surely you could have/ trusted-me to, keep your secret?” ‘‘Yes, I could have trusted you, even though it was- Stephen’s secret even more than mine. But I_had_taken _ a double' oath not to toll! First, Id promised Stephen himself .when ; hf> came back from the dead; never to hive any hint of the truth. fca-ter, when h© was kidnapped/ ! was obliged to swear another oath, bn the memory ot my dead parents, and my love for uny brother, that ! wouldn’t betray Cheffinsky sihd his comrades. Now ltsdn-v ferent. They; have betrayed 'me. Stephen is dead. Such a girl as Clo Rilev wouldn't have sent this i meesage unless she knew,, for certain. He must have died just be£orp that dfOadful Sunday when all our unhappiness—yours- and mine began, Roger. To beep their hold over me, those imon. would ftave done all they, could to save him till they had the papers they want-, ed. goon after you brought me to v New York they found out about our mar,riaga, and put ‘porsonals’ in the newspapers beaded like those others in Cghforma: ‘Steve’s Sister.’ They knew, of course, that! their man,'who should have met mo in Chicago, had been pre vented from coming---imprisoned ■, on 'a chargj&which -they called a ‘frame-up. still had power over me, alJ your wife, but I had a certain '-power ovorffchfeHL too, rbecause Fd'got the papers 'they' wanted.' ' I answered thm messages, and refused to ■giie‘up What" I had unless my brother fetched it. I hoped that'ivould bring him. But he (July wrote —a short letter- He said that he was safe for the time • -being, and was treated ■ kindly. ■He would come when he could. Meanwhile, I ‘must'keep, the papers and- the secret’—and wait. I felt relieved after thatl - I dared to let myself be liaptiy. Then, that Sunday, when I went out in the' motor, a man was waiting for me in the street. He made me' understand’ : that he came from Stephen, His ’name was Paterson. He 'said. the comradesfy 'had. changed " their.. minds: They wouldn’t let: Stephen come -to me. .T 'njnst send the papers that bight or my brother would dip. When ‘I asked the -reason for the; change, Peterson pretended not to know. Now. I understand at last. Ste. phen "had-died. Cheffinsky -.. and. the others had at last lost their -hold over me "and dared not wait longer. I sent the envelopb' to Peterson by Clo, to . the Westmorland Hotel. Yea; the man who was murdered. That has been anothei horror fbr me. It was when I was taking the envelope to 010, in the car. that I broke the rope of pearls and dared nof even- stop to pick them up! I hoped Stephen -was saved—hut Roger, it was not the game envelope you took: care of for me. train. It had been changed: Inside, when Peterson opened it before Clo, he found only blank paper—writing • paper of the Santa Fe Limited, train. Clo .puzzled the mystery out, and explained what might have happened when you and I left the train in 'Chicago—what mitet have, happened? A clever trick of Justin'O’Reilly’s working for the-Herons.'.’ ■ “Justin O’Reilly! Damn him 1 rfoger broke out; hut Beverley covered his.lips' With her hand. “No. He wasn’t to blame. He must have thought me a monster of ingratitude and treachery to the Herons. The moment they saw the so .ret drawer open they would all have guessed that I’d stolen the sealed envelope, ft -was the only thing: kept there. If John" Heron told O’Reilly: what the contents were,- he must .have supposed t meant to make money by blackmailing. Tho reason the Herons were silent was that, O’Reilly had .changed the right envelope for another, just like it, given him by Dolores.. with her. seal and gold wax. So they ivue safe. And they could never bo sure whether you were in the affair with me or not. Still,- I have lost: you the Herons’ friendshjjs.” / “And Justin O’Reilly has doubted you, -and detested me. But he has been splendid to Clo,,who went to his hotel and stole the real • envelppe out of his private -safe and brought if here- •” • . v< • “So'that was/it 1” said Roger. And I found the envelope'addressed to him at his bank, and^ sent it to -ho Dietz that night.” “Roger !i It was you ” “Yea. Ypu are ’ not the only one with a confession to make. There a (' o many things I ——” '= ' “I don’t . want a confession from you. Whatever you did, was right. Even before you told me, I felt you knew about the pearls being gone—»“Though I knew .1 ought to have trusted you, I ought to have trusted you when I heard you telephone O’Reilly ” ■ ■> ■ “So you did hear! I was sure ot it.--, I'telephoned about Clo. He was helping her, and so, indirectly, helping ’me, though I’d seen, him ■ only when he-brought her hero that- Sunday night,, after she’d been to hie hotel;. Oh, Roger, you don’t know •what that child has done for me! Not only did she get ha dk the envelope, and now the pearls—which Peterson Btole-'-but she has gone through an ordeal terrible enough to kill moot women, or drive them mad—-that delicate girll ©he'may bo in-danger still • —for she dropped, the pearls in a bag out. of & window in a shabby boarding house; Miss Blackburn© has just told me My one comfort is that a man, answering- Justin"' O’Reilly’s description, got out of a -motof-car in l front of the house, as Miss Blackburn© came away. Clo tricked O’Reilly, and stole from him, and yet—l, think she bewitched him. I think he’d risk his life to keep her from harm. I pray that he may bring her here, safe and sound.” “He’s not likely to come to my houso,” Roger said. “I’ve just caused him, tho greatest disappoint* i in cut of ilia life. I wanted.

to hurt him —and I ; found a - ’ way. By'this time he must know what I've done. There's an old mansion in Gramercy square, built by O’Reilly’s great grandfather; Years ago, there was ■a forced sales; andever since .Justin O’Reilly was a boy' he wanted' to buy it back. I have bought it. But I wish to would fall in love with this Clo of yourß -and marry her. I’d give them the deed of sale as a wed* ding present!” Roger had spfung up, released by Beverley; and-almost shouted theyords of his inspiration. Ho had forgotten everything and everybody in the world.' except his wife, the girl who had helped her, and his own late enemy, whom hn would now gladly welcome as his dearest- friend. . A . knock at the door brought him hack to realities with a • start; yet he felt half dazed as he opened it, to face Leontine. “The butler begged-of me to come,” said the Frenchwoman. “Is it the wish or Monsieur and Madame that dinner ' be still 'longer delayed ?” Roger tqmed, and looked at Beverley, his band on the dbor. “What shall We say?” 1 he askeefy. “Shall ’I go down .without - you? Shall I explain- that you’ve a hcadaaho—*—” “No.” Beverley answered.. She stood •up, tall and veT.y Jbeautiful, colour rising to the. 1 face which had been pale “I have no headache. I am quite well. Leontine, tell Johnson dinner may he served.” ■ CHAPTER XL —ON THE ROAD TO KBWPpRT. /■■-.■ Through' thd blue dusk of the June night a big grey limousine car bowled smoothly over the velvet road surface, with the mqon overhead, and the musio of the sea within hearing distance. Turning a corner with a swing it cauie upon another car, stationary and in trouble. A man m evening dress was holding an electric lamp for -the chauffeur to peer under the bonnet, and standing beside him was a woman in black, wearing a filmy purple cloak. “Waqt any help?’’ O’Reilly called from the .window, while his chauffeur slowed down. • “No, thank you! We’ll soon be all right,” answered the man with the lamp. The light shone on his fade, which was strange to O’Reilly, and on that of the, woman, which, to his curprise, was familiar, “You can go’on;” he said to his. chauffeur in ;a‘ low voice. “Wli.v, Mr O’Reilly, it was Mrs Heron!” Clo cried, sinking l hack reluctantly upon her comfortably rigged-.-up bed, after a long stare through the window.

“ ‘Mr O’Reilly,’ indeed? Don't you realise I’m you>- husband-?” Justin Irughed at her. “Pd-- forgotten,” said Clo.. • “It’s only since-this morning, and we've had bo many'things to think of.” "" - r “I’ve: thought-of nothing hut you. You seem to have thought of nothing but your Angel—and these Herons.” . “It’s the Herons I’m thinking ot> now,” Clo confessed. “Why did you tell the man to go on ?” ' “Why, I like old John Heron,, but 'l’m not a spoilsport.!’ . , v “What do you mean?” “I’m wondering if Mrs Heron and that chap are on their way to the Sands’ hall. - If Heron doesn’t mir.d letting them enjoy, each other’s cOßipany, why shojild I butt in?” • “Mr Heron was in the car,” Clo insisted gravely. 1 “It was .dark inside, butl saw his face at'the window,” , “You must have sharp eyes,” eaip Justin. “The window looked black as (V pocket to sue.” ■ ■■■ “You think I. imagined it. But I m suyef Oh, Mr—er—Justin, do let's go back and warn him!. I have a presentiment that if we doii’t, it will -he too late.” “Whatever you feel as if you must do, shall be done,” said Justin, with a tenderness in 'his voice of which few people would have believed him capable. “The doctor humoured you, and told me to—so here goes 1” H<? called through the speaking-tube, and directed the chauffeur to turn. “Go back till you get within a few yards of that auto we passed hung up on the road,” he added. . “Astonishing the interest you take in the Herons?” he teased. . , “Not in them. In him. I don’t think i like'Mrs Heron,” . she explained. “You’ve worried about him .ever since you came to yourself yesterday; But then, I’m used to John Heron’s life being threatened. It used to happen once a week. And he is alive yet.” “I feel responsible,” said Clo. “You see, I heard Kit and Churn talking of the plot, and saying that Chuff was sure to have found someone elpe, after Pete died.” ' . '

“I tried to get him three_ times on long distance yesterday,” said O’Reilly, “and when ho was always out, <1 wired.” ,\ . “You couldn’t explain clearly m the telegram.” ' “If you really saw him in the car; he’s all right, up to date. There it Is, still stranded. We shall soon know.” “Will you get out and talk to him seripusly ?” Clp urged. _ . . . “Yes. If. it’s he and > not, his ghost you saw, I’ll get him to, walk along the road with me, out 01 earshot, from his wife.” „ , , ~ (To he Concluded.)