LOVE IN THE SADDLE.

Otago Witness, Issue 3808, 8 March 1927, Page 9

LOVE IN THE SADDLE.

By

J. C. LOCKE.

(Copybight.—Fob the Otago Witness.)

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. Drusilla Cope (Toozle), heiress of Hurstbury, and Harry Hawkshaw are parting at Farewell Thorn on the downs above Chippenden, prior to her departure for the Riviera with her aunt, Lady Nunlash (Aunty Matty). Mr Ringland, Toozle's uncle and trustee, is suspected of dishonest association with Gerald Fancourt, the son of a rich financier living at Norden, Harry’s old family estate lost to him on the death of his father. Without Mr Ringland’s consent, which he refuses, Toozle will lose Hurstbury if she marries before she is 25. Tommy Dawson, Harry’s barrister friend, advises that with five thousands pounds available Harry can successfully demand this consent. This sum he will try to make by racing his own steeplechasers, and Mr Barter, his trainer, agrees to help him. Harry lives at Chase Cottage, the sole remaining fragment of the Norden estate, with his old nurse, Mrs Mary Dobson (Dobby). There he receives a call from a lawyer’s clerk, Mr Kewley, who tells him that Mr Ringland has been stealing Toozle’s trust funds. Harry gets Tommy Dawson down for the week-end to discuss matters with Mr Kewley, and while they are talking Mr Ringland is announced. CHAPTER lII.— (Continued.) You might have sworn you heard their six eyes click, so sharply did they jerk wide open at the surprise of it. The three stared at one another, stiff and speechless, until Tommy drew a long breath. ‘’Holy devil!” said he. “Holy ain’t what I’d call the old toad,’’ muttered the irrepressible Dobby in a rebellious undertone. Harry whipped round on her. “Dobby! your tongue’s too long. Carry it to Mr Ringland and let it give him my compliments, and tell him I’ll be along in two minutes. Quick, now!” He turned to the others. “Well, what’s the orders?”

“Tommy’s glance and grin had a certain surprise in it. “Orders is,” he replied, “that you forget us; forget this palaver and go and talk pretty to the old gent —and put on that poker-face you used to keep up your sleeve —- Hawker! I believe you’re enjoying it, you blighter!” “Sure I am,” answered Harry, his eyes dancing. “It’s the kind of lark I cotton to. Mr Kewley, you’d like to see that terrier again, wouldn’t you? Chuggo, you know.” “I would so, Mr Bawkshaw.” Mr Kewley was watching him with a new interest. “Right-o you shall—later.” He grinned at • Tommy’s puzzled faces smoothed his own suddenly into a wooden composure, winked at them, and went out. Mr Ringland, in grave-coloured tweeds of subtle perfection, and sober brown hoots of which the stoutness could not disguise the elegance of cut and build, turned from the bookshelves he was inspecting as Harry strode breezily into the dining-room. * “Afternoon, sir. Sorry if I’ve'kept you waiting. A fellow I was up at Cambridge with is staying here for the week-end, and I was just talking to another chap who’s dropped in about a. dog lie fancies. Took me a second or two to get away from the pair of ’em.” “Perfectly, my dear Bawkshaw. You must not treat your friends brusquely on my account. How are you, my boy?” He slid a white, well-shaped hand into Harry’s hard, brown paw. “Oh, fairly merry and bright, you know. You’d like some tea?” “Thanks, no; but I’ll sit down, if I may. I took tea at; Chippenden in the course of my usual constitutional. This withering body of mine demands the strengthening discipline of regular exercise, my dear Hawkshaw, to fit it for such duties as it may still be called upon to perform.” “Must say, sir, I see nothing withered about you. You look wonderfully fit to me.” And, indeed, with his thick, shining white hair, smooth and rosy face, alert dark eyes and trim shape, Mr Ringland was a very picture of mellow, healthy maturity. He shook his head, however, with a gentle sigh. “Ah, my dear boy, how should fortunate youth know the sad, incessant ebb of age! Even those books of your dear father’s that I had just observed as you entered seemed to me like a shadow of the Dial of Life—a shadow of the past, Hawkshaw; receding eternally and leaving me year by year more lonely.” Harry shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “ Er—yes, of course.” “Ah,'well! So long as duty is left one must not grieve too much for what is taken.” Mr Ringland sighed again. “ And I am reminded, my dear Hawkshaw, that it was a sense of duty, in addition, needless-to say, to the pleasure of seeing you again, which led me in here as I was passing on my round. Those books, my poor boy, it is"grievous to say it, but-ql fear they, and a few tenderly cherished trifles like them, were all that was saved from the wreck of the old estate. “ I fear so, sir,” Harry answered. A watchful gleam flitted across his face and faded into woodenness as Mr Ringland raised his eyes from the pensive contemplation of his neat brown toecaps. “ There was also the trifle of cash you may remember my telling you about,” he added drylv

“Of course; yes. A thousand or so, if my recollection is accurate. Not a fortune exactly—a tool with which to carve out fortune, perhaps; but not in itself a fortune, most unhappily for you.” “ I agree. Then there is my income,” Harry said in the same flat voice. “ Then there is your income,” Mr Ringland repeated, nodding his head sympathetically. “ And how sadly meagre that is, as incomes go nowadays. You must find it so, I am sure, my dear boy.” “ I do,” Harry assented coolly. “ I am, however, able to supplement it in various ways.” - Mr Ringland shrugged and waved his hand in a softly deprecating gesture. “ I believe racing is one of those ways, Hawkshavv- I. am forced to repeat my pronouncement of our- previous discussion—it pains me to do so—that I cannot approve of such a means of increasing one’s worldly possessions. Racing as the concomitant pursuit of a country gentleman of means may be excused, perhaps, on traditional grounds, though even then, I think, scarcely commended, but as a commercial avocation all forms of gambling are, to my mind, nothing less than deplorable.” “You will observe we spoke of racing, sir, not gambling. I scarcely ever bet, even on my own horses; but if I did, I should imagine it’s a cleaner form of gambling than the stock exchange, for instance.”

Mr Ringland’s eyes narrowed slightly as he peered at Harry's stolidly expressionless face. “A very fallacious illustration, my dear Hawkshaw, permit me to say; though one commonly employed in this connection. Speculative investment on the stock exchange leads to such a free circulation of liquid wealth as may be called, not inexactly, the life-giving blood stream of commerce.” “It also leads to a good ileal of dirty work which may be called heartless swindling, I fancy,” Harry retorted calmly. "I suppose, sir, your perfectly accurate analysis of my affairs has something to do with the—er—relations between Drusilla and myself.” “It has. To put it quite concisely, my dear Hawkshaw, my wish is that there should be no relations, not even such as have subsisted hitherto.” Oil and vinegar were about half-and-half in Mr Ringland's tone. “Afraid I can’t accede to that wish, sir. Drusilla and I are practically lifelong friends, and as far as I’m concerned I intend we shall remain so, whether she marries me or not. I don’t know, of course; but I’m pretty certain her feelings would be the same. I’m not saying anything about the other feelings we may have for each other.” “I thank you for your restraint.” The vinegar had all evaporated suddenly. “Believe me, my dear boy, my earnest desire is to save you both needless pain —anti-pain is all you can hope from the continuance of a friendship which cannot’ end in marriage. The trust laid upon me by Drusilla’s dear parents is a very sacred one, and a marriage where there is such great disparity of fortune would be a step so unwise that I am bound to prevent it by every means in my power. Other considerations apart, the world would naturally believe that you had married Drusilla for her money, and should she ever share that belief it’would mean such unhappiness for her as I dread to think of.”

“You needn’t worry, sir;”she’d never be unhappy for that reason; she knows me too well. Every penny of her own would be tied up to her, of course, and I’d make as big a settlement on her as I could besides. The world could go and hang its beastly self; I’d have no reason to care what it thought.” “ Your consciousness of integrity might convince the world as little a's your ability to make a settlement convinces me,” Mr Ringland replied blandly. “ Come now, my dear fellow, ease an bld man’s anxious mind by giving me a promise to abandon all thought of marriage with iny niece. It is a promise, trust me, which a gentleman should give, above all, one of -the Hawkshaws of Norden, known so long and well for their chivalry and gallant honour.” Harry laughed. His good-humoured eyes looked anything but watchful, yet eyes and brain were watching hard. “Well, sir, perhaps it’s because I’m no longer a Hawkshaw of Norden that I don’t feel inclined to give such a promise just now. But I’ll tell you what. I’ll think things over and come up sometime and let you know what I’ve decided. Shall we leave it at that?” “With all my heart, my dear boy. I am content to leave the issue to your fastidious sense of honour. Ah, there is your faithful little dog. There’s a good fellow, then! ” Chuggo was waiting outside, as usual, to inspect visitors. He sniffed suspiciously, and slid away from Mr Ringland’s proffered pat with a cold stare. “I see; your heart is for your master alone, is-it, little dog? Their fidelity is so touching and instructive, Hawkshaw. Good-bye, my dear boy; with the beautiful generosity of youth you have greatly

lessened an old man’s cares. I shall await your visit with happy confidence. Good-bye.” “No, we don’t like him, do * we, Chuggo?” Harry muttered, watching Mr Ringland crunch sedately down the path. “A swine I’d call him, wouldn’t you ?” Chuggo gave an assenting growl as his master closed the door. When Harry returned to the den he walked straight to a corner cupboard, poured out a tot of whiskey, and took it neat at a gulp, before he turned to meet the inquiring stare of the other two. “Mr Kewley, you’re right,” he burst out. “That’s a bad old rogue—my stomach’s turned at him. I’m game to hang him or boil him or jail him or whatever you two please, so fire ahead !” “Such peevishness!” said Tommy. “Steady on, my son, and tell us all about it first.” So Harry told them. “And,” he wound up, “he was watching me like a weasel all the time he was shooting off his oily slush—the damned old hypocrite! But I don’t think he saw much.” “Good old poker face! But just a sec before we get down to it—why did you talk that drivel about Chuggo to Mr Kewley?” Harry grinned cheerfully. “Oh, that was just so’s I could say I’d been seeing a man about a dog—in case he tried to nose out who was here, you know.” Tommy looked at him in ironical admiration. Mr Kewley giggled. “Yes, you must be the jierfect little truth-teller, mustn’t you? For such a blessed innocent he’ll go far, Mr Kewley; what? - You infernal old humbug!” “Call me what you like except ‘my dear boy’ or ‘my dear Hawkshaw.’ If anyone says those words to me for a week I’ll shift his jaw for him —I will so. And now what?”

“Now we go easy for a bit. Mr Kewley and I have been discussing things, and wo believe we can dig up some- more evidence. We won’t open fire till we’ve got it.” “Understood. And, by-the-bye,” Harry added thoughtfully. “Drusilla had an idea the old blaster was in with the Fancourts, and I noticed he jerked a bit when I mentioned the stock exchange—they're sort of bucket-shoppers, you know. Wonder if there’s anything in it.” “A lot in it, very likely, and you’re an ass not to tell us sooner. Trust a woman to smell out a thing like that; eh, Mr Kewley?” “I believe you, sir! I can get a line on the Fancourt crowd, and I’ll be after them quick.” “I too,” said Tommy. “So we ferret and you lie doggo, Hawker; them’s your or< ers.” Dobby poked a flushed face round the suddenly-opened door. “Mr Barter’s compliments, Master Harry, and hc’ve sent over to say as you’re to school Kata San over fences al 10, Monday, an’ he wants you to hunt her Thursday with the Greydown pack, an’ why didn’t you tell me as Miss Sally wanted to see me to-morrow, I’d like to know?—an’ if .you don’t go and open the eave and get me a skepful o’ pertaters you’ll none o’ you get no dinner; so there!” The door closed wtih a thump; Harry looked ruefully at his mirth-stricken companions. /‘Orders! Did you say—orders? Lord love-a-blooming-duck, it’s snowing ’em!” He went out to get the potatoes. CHAPTER IV. Kata San was a hussy at her schooling. The bright sun and tingling air were too much for her sedateness, and she was just flirting with her fences. She frolicked over them; she jazzed, tangoed, and one-stepped over them; she waltzed or she whirled over them; out with all her coquettish airs she jumped smooth and clean. A wicked hussy, certainly; but she knew the game. Harry sat her with supple ease. He had a wax-tight seat and hands of steel silk, and although he let Kata San play all the tricks she had a mind to, he saw to it that she turned out a good job. Mr Barter thought they made a taking pair. The schooling-ground was laid out in a curve,- and he was going at a handgallop along the inside of it on the back of a sedate old pensioned hunter of perfect manners and paces. He chewed a dry bent-stem and smiled approvingly as he watched the work.

“You and her get on all right, Mr Hawkshaw, not a doubt of it,” he said, as they pulled up at last. “And a tricksy baggage she is, too, if ever there was one. Shapes well, though.” “ Very well,” Harry agreed, patting the shapely neck. “Not very fit yet, do you think?. Seems to be blowing rather much for such a mild bout.” “ Just excitement and contrariness,” Air Barter answered imperturbably. “ The run on Thursday will put her into fine fettle. Let’s see; meet’s at Poleworth Grange; lend you a hack, if you like, and send a lad over with the mare.” “ Thanks very much, but I won’t trouble unless you think it necessary. It’s an easy five miles, and we’ll go slow.” . “That’s right, sir; and being as it’s a training spin ’ it’ll be all to the good. Now, Mr Hawkshaw! You’re still set on that five thousand I take it?” “ More- than ever! ” “ Good! Then I’ll ask you to hand me over £250. A bit o’ betting ’ll be needed, an’ I must be free to manage it for you in my own times an’ ways and without questions asked.”

Their eyes met squarely in a frank and friendly look. “You do advise it, Barter?” “ I do so, Mr Hawkshaw. And more • —l’d warrant you against loss, I’m that sure.” Harry nodded. “ I’ll bring .you the cheque this afternoon—and I wish, by God, that I could thank you properly for being such a pal! ” Mr Barter turned plum-colour and lent over in his saddle, holding out a rugged hairy hand. “Put it there, Mr Hawkshaw!” he muttered. “ I’ve said it afore, maybe; blit a good things bears saying twice—you’re a sportsman, sir! ” Thursday morning came radiant as a queen in hex - splendour. The sky was a vast blue jewel, and the earth stirred herself and laughed under the caress of the sun. w Harry. sang a small song to himself in a very indifferent voice, but with great cheerfulness, as he polished his hat and looked at Kata San champing her bit impatiently on the turf outside the garden gate. Dobby suddenly came into the picture, bustling up the path? ■ . “I’ve put up your sandwich case, and your flask’s full o’ sherry, Master Harry. You’ve no call to be so pleased with yourself, as I can see. Goin’ huntin’ an’ all, with Miss Toozle away; nice thing if you broke your neck an’ her not here to look after you. But there! Miss Gloria Harvey's bound to be at the Poleworth meet,; an’ I des-say shell do as well. Not much she wouldn’t do for the asking. I’ll be bound—Gloria, indeed !” Dobby vanished with a disdainful toss of the head, and Harry looked after her, marvelling. “Now what in' the world’s bitten her, Chuggo? She aud Toozle in the same cry about that blooming Gloria—and why, I ask you? Never you try to understand shemales, my doggie: it's labour wasted. No you don't! Get in, bust you! Nothing doing to-day.” Harry rode off still marvelling about the ways of women, and pursued by the frantic wails of Chuggo, who did deputy acting kennel terrier sometimes, and resented it bitterly whenever a bunt was run without him. The marvelling kept Harry's brains busy through all the leisurely five miles, and was jolted into fresh - activity when he rode slap into Gloria Harvey on the wide lawns of Polcworth Grange, and read the unmistakable welcome in her slow smile. “Hullo, Harry. First time I’ve seen you out this season. Why are we so bright and beautiful to-day?” “Didn’t know, we were, Gloria. About time this poor old moth-eaten pink was pensioned off, I should think.” Harry looked down at his weather-beaten scarlet coat disparagingly. His membership ot the G.reydown Hunt was his sole extravagance. “Oh, but we are. my dear! A few moth-holes don’t matter; the lining's everything, you know. You’re the lining, Harry.” She nodded with a mockery that didn't go with the warm, flickering light in her long, slanting, green-shot ey.es. Harry blushed, and Gloria laughed. Her voice was as warm and manycoloured as her eyes, and her laugh ran like a ripple of water or the clear trill of a bird.

She was very lovely and alluring altogether, Gloria Harvey. She rode astride, and was all flowing and seductive curves as she sat her horse. You would have called them voluptuous, those curves, till you perceived their insinuating subtlety. Her mouth, indeed, was voluptuous;' full-lipped, beautifully shaped, and deep, glowing red. Golden lights shimmered through the glossy red-brown of her hair, answering the golden points of fire that sparkled sometimes in her mysterious eyes. Her satiny skin was warm with delicate colour, but the full white throat was dazzling in its soft fairness. She was provocative in every pulsating line of her —and she knew it, but she didn’t lot you know she knew. Still blushing, and feeling a fool as he did it, Harry looked away. The stretches of velvety green turf Were like a giant bed of'gftaniums with the scarlet of the hunt, and the sun glittered in a thousand darts of light on bit . and stirrup, “It’ll be a big field,” he mumbled uncomfortably. “Yes, won’t it. And here comes a friend of yours to make it bigger.” - A large shiny car purred along the avenue and pulled up near them. A large shiny young man got out of it. “That animal! Not much, Gloria! I’m a devil of a long way down in the world, but I’m not at Gerald Fancourt’s level yet, I think.” “Really, not your friend, Harry? That’s such a pity, for he’s quite byway of being mine, or trying to be.” “Let him keep on trying.” Young Air Fancourt saluted Gloria with a gloating kind of smile and an elaborate flourish of his glistening hat. To Harry’ he gave a curt nod; Harryreturned it with one even curter. Air Fancourt then straddled off. “Don’t like the way the brute looks at you, Gloria.” “Don’t you, Harry ?” she asked sweetly, with a demure upward glance through her lashes. “We do disapprove of him, don’t we? But he walks very’ like a horseman, doesn’t he ?” Harry’ growled. They could see Mr Fancourt climbing on to his large, showy heavy-weight hunter; they could also hear him swearing at his groom.

“What a low swipe it is!” Harry muttered in a disgusted tone. “It is rather low, perhaps. Let’s get right, right away from it since it annoys you so; they’re moving off, anyhow.”; As they rode off together, Hary had an uneasy twinge of recollection. He was remembering Toozle and Dobby. Well, he couldn’t help it, anyway, and he’d lose her in the hunt. “I'm glad you found me, Harry,” said the alluring voice. “I was wondering whom to take for pilot.” “Oh—er—yes, of course. Fact is, though, I’m only getting the marc fit; I shan’t push her very much.” “Never mind. I can take on our Gerald when you drop out. But’l don’t believe he’ll make a very good pilot. He looks much more like a rider when he’s walking than when he’s riding, don’t you think?” Harry grunted and looked sourly at the figure jogging uneasily’ ahead with a very slippery knee and a very high and perky hand, much play of turned-out toes and elbows, and a back that persisted in looking monstrously beefy’ in spite of the expensively-perfect pink coat which covered it. Gloria had so managed their pace that they were now well in the rear, and when the gay company in front checked for a moment and then filed off right-handed through a gateway, following the pack, they were left alone, except for the footfolk. and,general rag-tag-and-bobtail. “Stop a minute; I suppose that means they’re drawing Hoodman Holt, yes; and they’ll be putting them in at' the north ride, as usual. Look here, Harrv, let’s go on to Gringe Oak!” Harry looked at her with great approval. “Jove, Gloria, you know the country as well as old Jessum. You need :i deuce of a lot of piloting, you do. Como on, then.” A couple of furlongs farther on they tin nod right by a double belt of, fir which ran right up to Hoodman Holt, and ended in a sort of little cove in brushwood screened the drove that ran the edge of the covert. A tangle of wood under the gnarled limbs of Gringe Oak, but it was there for those who knew. “I s'pose you know you’ve posted us in the best spot round the wood,” Harry said, as they drew rein in the sunny nook. “Clear get away wherever they break cover, and if it’s on the far side there’s the old masked drove slap through—and you aren't swarmed out with other people. No; it's mighty little piloting you need, Gloria.” If that wasn’t lively admiration in his look, it was own brother to it. A wave of warmer colour crept slowly over Gloria’s enchanting face. A glow , came into her eyes, and they swam with a bewildering play of changing lights; she turned them on Harry with an intent gaze. “Thanks for this praise, kind gentleman,” she said; “but there is always danger, uot only in hunting—Harry"— her voice dropped to a deeper note with a throb in it. “Would you care to pilot inc—always?”

(To be continued.)