THE SECOND MRS FAIRFAX

New Zealand Times, Volume LIII, Issue 12549, 11 September 1926, Page 19

THE SECOND MRS FAIRFAX

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

BY

MARY DREWE TEMPEST

[C O P Y R I G H T.)

CHAPTER Xll,—Continued. Captain Stewart leant back with both hands grasping the arms of his chair—a habit of his, to show his general readiness for emergencies—and considered for a moment before answering his subordinate's terse inquiry. “It’s like this, Topham," he said slowly. “I feel it in my bones that the Passenger concerned is a man who has the reepeot and likin« of everybody aboard this ship—from myself to that lonely little schoolgirl. We all knew he was dead keen on getting in before the official time, and—like the numskull I am—l chipped him about a rendezvous with a girl. He took it like a gentleman always does, but I’ve felt sorry every time it’s come into my.mind. The only thing that interests Mr Fairfax are the sweepstakes on the day’s runs. By the way, he’s never cared a tinker’s cuss whether he’s lost or won, but if the run’s a good one, he cheers up; if a bad, he’ll go off by himself to that pet look-out of his and stare ahead as if wishing could get him homo any quicker." The first officer nodded appreciatively. "And what do you propose to do about it, sir ?" tapping the message. "This—if you gentlemen will support me; we’ll get every inch out of this old hulk that is humanly possible —. of course with due regard to the safety of my passengers; and if we can get in 24 hours ahead of time, why, dammit, we will!’’ "Spoken like the man you are, captain. We’ll have a little ‘Derby’ of one runner —all on our own! Here's my ■ hand on it, sir. I’ll answer for the others." "Then, that ’s that," commented his superior with a satisfied nod. "Now, this is my idea! I won’t touch one penny' of Sir Philip Welwyn's reward, but those poor devils of stokers will have to sweat over the job, so you can tell ’em from me there’s a fiver apiece for each of them to take home to the missus, provided they bring my ship into Avonmouth on the 24th. I'll square up with the owners. Put it to 'em at once, Topham, and report to me.” The first officer sainted and retired. Twenty minutes later he reported to his gratified chief that officers and crew were at one in this enterprise, and i "keen as mustard" to see it well through. There was terrific excitement at the end of the next day's run,' and many I were the comments and questions hurled at the officers' heads. Ronald oame and looked at the figures with-shining eyes; as he turned on his heel the first officer informed him that the captain would like a private word with him. "Mr Fairfax," began Captain Stewart, and there was a queer light in the keen blue eyes of the gallant old seaman as he looked on the young man’s arresting face, "you’ve a jolly good friend in Kingston who has succeeded in persuading me to get every kick I can out of this old tub 60 as to make Avonmouth as soon as may be.” . "WhatP"

"Fact. And I owe you this sort of apology too, Mr Fairfax. I am sorry I Ronald put out an impulsive hand and gripped, that of Captain Stewart. "You're a white man," he stammered, deeply moved, and whatever the issue, 1 11 be grateful to you all my life." He made a quick turn and exit. Somehow an inkling of the facts leaked out among the other passengers, and the greatest excitement prevailed when the next day’s run was given out. The old ship throbbed from end to end’ as she gamely held on her race with time. She always managed to do “a bit over,” and the stokers knew she was going to make a magnificent sprint for • the "win-ning-post. Once there came an ominous 5.0.5.: "shin on fire"—fifty miles off their heat, but further messages brpught the glad news that a liner had come to the rescue, thus enabling the Good Fortune to hold on her way without the loss of a heart-heat. On the evening of the 24th—to the delight of all on board —the good ship came to her moorings at Avonmouth—just twenty-seven hours ahead of the scheduled time. All the farewells had been said, from captain to little school-girl, and all had thanked young Faifax—raid laughter and tears—for having helped <to banish boredom! Just as the gangways were being fixed, a lad ran up with a telegram for him. With a blanching face, Ronald silentlv handed it to Captain Stewart, who laid paused for a moment near him.

The gallant Captain read* then shouted to his late passengers crowding the gangways: "Anybody got a good car to lend Mr Fairfax ?"

A gentleman shouted back: "My chauffeur's waiting with one; it’s very much at Mr Fairfax's disposal." * Followed a gripping of hands, and | Ronald found himself in a smart little I car, with hia host beside him and lustily telling his man to "pick up the 7.32 at ; Bristol, or get the sack." Then he dimly remembered flying [ through a village or two and being help- • ed into a first-class carriage with a flask of whisky shoved into his overcoat ; pocket. "I J ve wired for the best record-breaker available to meet you at Paddington. ’ Good-night, and good luck I'* The lean, kind face dropped from the - window as the train gathered speed, racing away on her long run to town. Bis good Samaritan had thoughtfully arranged to have his baggage sent straight to Rivershead, so that there should be nothing to impede or harass him on the journey. As Ronald leant back and watched tbe flying landscape, he tried to collect his wits. He was conscious of only one idea: that all this effort was futile, and tbe ceaseless "chug chug 0 of the engine seemed to jeer: "You've come too late—you ve come too late** ad infinitum. It was a nightmare of a journey to Ronald. He tried hard to remember when last he had eaten—it must have been sometime yesterday—or the day before. "You've come too late"—"you've come too late'* nagged the engine. Quite suddenly, he was startled out of his apathy to find the train had come to a standstill, and looking out, found he was in Paddington station. Leaping down in a frenzy of haste, he spotted a email, grey car, whose slim lines and strong tyres proclaimed the racer. "Fairfax?" he said. The chauffeur sprang to the ground, and touching his hat, took address and map; a moment later they were streaking away through the lighted streets, away, away into outer darkness. * « « • . "Yes, Monsieur Dubois, your papers are quite in order, and they give you a.free hand in this country. You will j only need Mr Ronald Fairfaxes instructions to act as swiftly as you like. Let mo see—referring to a letter before I him on the table, '’air Philip Welwyn states that he arrives at Rivershead Court, Bucks, on the 35th. On that date I shall be happy to place one of our smartest detectives at your disposal.** So spoke an inspector from Scotland Yard. The two men had been closeted together in rather a musty little room at Headquarters for nearly an hour, and had reached a perfect "entente cordiale." . Moi, j« euis infiniment oblige, Monsieur 1 Inspecteur/* said the brisk little h renchman, clicking his heels and bowing repeatedly hat in hand; "permettez moi d avoir I honneur do vous souhaiter le bon eoir, A bientot, monsieur/* and ho made an impressive exit. Clever Httha ohap that/* soliloquised the big official, looking meditatively after the dapper figure of the French detecI« ve ’ rx! 1 Dabs his “an this time; France is quite welcome to have and keep the likes of this Richard Snaith. , had listened with the keenest interest to a picturesque description of the various activities of the wanted man, who seemed to have been gifted with intelligence above the average, for when detected—almost redhanded—in different crimes, he usually succeeded in establishing an unshakable alibi. On two such occasions, a beautiful woman of psapshad oome forward to swear that h« had been in her house at the time when these crimes . were oommitted. Once he chuckled—that when the little Frenchman-coyly admitted that hie conireres were not above making a blunder occasionally, for in that big forgery case —for which they were still after him—they very nearly got their man; but when they came to the smart hotel where he had been seen to enter, with a warrant fo. his arrest, Snaith, dressed' tor toe moment as aii hotel porter, rencerea ' valuable assistance” 3jy putting two unsuspecting and grateful detectives 5n the wrong scent, and got clean away. This pest to society seemed to be a postmaster at disguise—both of dress and personality, for the French police eoujd discover no marks of identification that no could not successfully camouflage, till Sir Philip in that letter they had just discussed, Bali drawn their attention to those bat-shaped, twitching cars. (To be continued.)