THE NOVELIST

Otago Witness, Issue 4049, 20 October 1931, Page 6

THE NOVELIST

GOLD IN THE WEST

By

WALTER SMYTH.

Author of “Wooden Bails,” “ Bonzer Jones,” “The Girl from Mason Creek,” and “Jean of the Tussock Country.”

( Copyright.—For the Otago Witness. )

The characters in this story are all imaginary, and have no relation whatever to anyone bearing the same name. CHAPTER lII.—GENTLEMAN GORDON. The “ All Nations ” Cafe was a cosmopolitan restaurant that prided itself on the fact that it provided meals at all hours, day or night, and on the shortest possible notice. Eb and Duggan, after finding Lawson's mate, Ben Stacev, had come straight from the Three Mile to the township, with the object of getting something to eat as speedily as possible. Eb now sat in the hastily huilt dining room, munching a piece of beef with great relish. “By Jimmy!” he exclaimed, “it’s a long time since I set me teeth into butcher’s meat.” Duggan glanced across the table through the haze of tobacco smoke. “ A decent feed now’ and again doesn't do one any harm,” he laughed. Then, seriously, “ It was queer the way they got on* to that chap Stacey; there s nothing surer thau that the thieves knew’ of our plans!” “That’s my way of thinking,” Eb answered, “ but I wouldn’t like to be in th’ shoes of th’ informer if th’ boys get on to him —not whether it's man or woman 1 ”

Duggan frowned. “ What makes you think it might be a woman ? ” he inquired. “Me!” the other returned hastily. “ I’m not makin’ any bets who it is, but I just say th’ boys won't spare anyone.” Duggan’s attention was momentarily attracted by some miners playing fortylives at an opposite table. When one of their number lost, the others laughed uproariously, and he realised that while they now be'haved like irresponsible boys, they would become ruthless men if they discovered a gold thief or an associate of thieves.

“ You know this business has got me worried,” he said at last. “How so?” asked Eb.

“ Suppose the boys should suspect Mary of having something to do with things? ” “ I dunno. Why don’t you get her to leave th’ town for a spell; tell her th’ climate’s a bit trying this time of th’ year.”

“ That’s just whatd can’t do,” growled Duggan. “She won’t be persuaded; reckons she can’t leave her job.” “ H’m! That’s bad; but if you’re feeling kindly towards her, you’ll take my advice and see that she goes.” For a time Duggan stared broodingly in front of him, then he startled Eb by thumping his fist on the table. “I believe you’re right; I’ll go along to-night and tell her that things are likely to be unpleasant in the near future.”

“ Good idea,” commented his companion. At that moment a big form came slowly down the room and stopped at their table.

“Hallo, boys!” drawled Ballarat Joe. “ I reckoned you might be here. I’ve been lookin’ to tell you we're going to have a talk with Lawson’s mate to-night at the Miners’ Aims. He’s got a great tale to spin about th’ hold-up.” “Does he know who the men were?” asked Duggan quickly. “Does he hell!” growled the other. “ He’s about as ignorant as a new-born baby on th’ subject.”

“ Then we’re no nearer getting on to the chaps? ” Ballarat Joe looked grim. “I’m not so sure of that,” he replied mysteriously. “ I’m of a mind that what you said was right.” “About what?” “ That someone livin’ in th’ township is telling them the movements of th’ miners.” “ Got on to anything? ” Duggan tried to make his voice sound unconcerned. “ Not yet,” answered the miner, “ but any time now’ we may get a clue.” Duggan breathed a sigh of relief. Evidently Ballarat Joe had not given Mary a second thought, but his assumption was premature, for the next moment the other remarked: “ I reckon we need to keep an eye on that innocent lookin’ little dance girl! ” “ Don’t be a fool,” Duggan burst out. “I’ll vouch for her; she’s got nothing to do with it.” Ballarat Joe looked surprised. “ Will you gamble on her?” he growled.

“Absolutely!” snapped Duggan emphatically. “ Well,” the other responded slowly, “ if that’s how you feel, there’s nothing more to be said.” “ Not a damn thing. Now if you ehaps are ready, we’ll get along to the Miners' Arms and see what Stacey has to say.” “ Suits me,” Eb broke in. “ I’m finished and I’m fit for anything.” “ Let's be on our way then.” Ballarat Joe turned to the door and led the way outside. In the street, in addition to the noisy crowd, two bell-ringers were making the night hideous. One man was loudly proclaiming the advent of a new star at tlie Theatre Royal, while his rival was announcing a special Sunday service io he held in Rory O’Morgan’s dancing saloon. “ There’s rivalry between heaven and hell to-night! ” laughed Ballarat Joe. “ Huh! ” exclaimed Eb with a chuckle, . “I remember bein’ at a bit of a meetin’ in a dance hall. Th’ dancers had only been gone a couple of hours or so when th’ service started, and th’ place still had a strong flavour of whisky ami tobacco about it. For th’ service they had divided th’ room with a calico sheet. On one side was th’ parson and his followers, and on th’ other some of th' boys that had not knocked off playin’ cards from th’ night before. When th’ first hymn was announced, one of th’ card players behind the sheet said solemnly: ‘I Pass/ That was all right, and for some time nothing disturbed the congregation but the occasional clink of glasses. But when th’ parson conies to the part of his sermon where he told us we was all going to hell, another of th’ hidden players jumps up and shouts: ‘ Euchred aga in, by God! ’ ” “ What were you doing at a church service, you old sinner?” laughed Duggan. “ Well, you see, explained his partner, “ I was there from th’ night before, and I only woke up when th’ parson came in.” “Slept there all night?” suggested Ballarat Joe. Eb nodded. “Yes,” lie admitted. When the three entered the Miners’ Anns Lawson and Staeey were already there. “How do, boys?” Lawson greeted them. “ You're just in time, and he emptied his glass. Ben Stacey was a stockily built man with dark beard and side whiskers, and he had piercing eyes of a greyish hue that seemed to look right through one.

“ How are you now, Stacey ? ” asked Ballarat Joe. “Got over that slug on th’ head?”

“ Oh, that was nothing. I wouldn't have grumbled if I hadn’t lost me gold,” t eplied the other grimly. “ Carryin’ much ? ” “About thirty ounces.” “ Why, that’s just hell! ” “ Just what happened? ” inquired Duggan.

“Nothing till I was about a mile the other side of th’ creek, then it all happened together. Several coves run out of th’ bush and ordered me to stand still and not look round. I lialf turned when I saw stars, and I don’t remember anything more till I saw you chaps.” “ How many men would you say there were ? ”

“ Three at least, but I never got a chance to see properly. I’d taken the count before I could take notice.”

Lawson cursed fluently. “ I’d like to git a holt of th’ chaps! ” he said savagely.

“No more than I would,” Duggan growled. “ There’s someone in th’ town that's

passing th’ information,” Ballarat Joe drawled, looking curiously at Duggan. “ Now I wonder who that’s likely to be?”

Duggan turned away. “What about th’ gal that listened to us th’ other night?” suggested Lawson. “ I wonder,” Ballarat Joe murmured. “ I reckon you chaps is crazy,” Eb suddenly broke in. “ It’s my opinion that no one passed the information. How could anyone in th’ town have learned that. Stacey was coming?” “If our conversation wasn’t overheard, they might have heard Lawson talking!” “ Huh! ” Eb went on derisively. “ I told you you. was all crazy. Who’d tell ’em about Lawson, then? There wasn’t a living man or woman in th’ town what knew he was coming!” “That’s right,” Ballarat Joe conceded. But how do you reckon they knew, if they wasn’t advised? ”

“ Simple,” answered the old man. “They’d be on th’ constant look-out for anyone coinin’ along th’ beach, and you can bet that’s how they knew we was there. They saw us cornin’, and just naturally decided io stage their hold-up at a different spot.” Ballarat Joe’s eyes were still on Duggan. “ I reckon your mate’s made things a bit clearer,” he said meaningly, “but still it don’ 1 account for th’ fact that Stacey was singled out, while other coves on th’ track was not molested!” “Then you still think these chaps have got someone here gettiir information ? ” Eb went m quickly. “That’s my contention.’ ’ “Then if they have, ain’t it likely they’ll have someone in some other place, some place where Stacey passed through before he come to th’ Three Mile ? ” “ By thunder, I believe you’ve struck it, Eh!” Duggan exclaimed excitedly. “ Most probably,” Ballarat Joe agree ! without enthusiasm, “ but that don’t alter th’ fact that we’ve still got to contend with someone here.” ' “ What about putting a few questions to the dancing girl?” interrupted Lawson.

Duggan’s jaw set aggressively. “You will, like hell!” he roared. Lawson flushed angrily. “Wait!” Eb counselled. “It’s no bit of use putting her on her guard until we're sure of things. If we keep quiet for a spell we may learn something.” “What do you think of that, Duggan?” inquired Ballarat Joe, with a malicious smile. “ That ought to suit you ? ”

“ Yes,” the other answered tersely. “ It’s sound sense.” “But does it suit th" others?” There were murmurs of dissent, but finally Lawson and Staeey agreed to leave the matter in Ballarat Joe’s hands, as they proposed to start for the Waimea the next dav.

After another round of drinks, Eb and his partner managed to slip away. “ It’s the devil!” Duggan swore when they were in the street. “Those fellows have certain got a set on Mary!” Very few men were in the bar when the two arrived at the Welcome Nugget, and Rose, the barmaid, was having a quiet spell. Duggan glanced round, but not seeing anyone he knew, walked over

Duggan swore under his breath. “ And

if they come here,” he demanded, “ what then? ” Rose laughed and reached for the two empty glasses. ■“ Why, Mary will be looking for another job, unless site’s lucky enough to get married meantime.” “ Is tliat likely to happen—the marriage, I mean ? ” Something in his tone made the girl look up and gaze at him curiously . “You seem very interested?” she observed. “ I am, rather,” Duggan confessed. The girl shook her head reproachfully. “ I might have known,” she sighed, “ by all the questions you ask.” “ But you've not answered the last one yet.” he reminded her. She glanced both ways then leaned confidentially across the counter. “Listen!” she whispered, “you’d better not look twice at Mary, she belongs to Gentleman Gordon! ” Duggan stifled an exclamation of surprise. “What the devil do you mean?” he demanded. “ who the deuce is Gentleman Gordon?” “ Sh—, not so loud. He’s a man you don’t want to have any argument with.” ‘ What, is he a professional prize fighter or something? ” The girl shook her head doubtfully “ I don’t know,” she murmured. “ Perhaps he is, but this I do know, anyone who gets into an argument with Gordon always comes off second best.” “ And this man is iroing to marry Mary?” “ I didn’t say marry,” Rose corrected quietly. “Then what the devil are vou driving at?”

“ No bad language or you’ll have to buy me a new bracelet. I simply said that Mary Taylor belongs to Gordon, that’s all.”

“And you’ve said a deuce of a lot! ” Duggan swore and lapsed into silence. His blue eyes glittered balefully as he stared broodingly before him. “ Lawson was right,” he said at lenffth to Eb. “What?” the old man asked anxiously. “ It’s a hell of a life! ”

to the door of the dance room. Mary however, was not visible, so he returned to the bar and ordered drinks. “Dance room slack to-night?” he asked the girl when she served them. “ Bit early yet,” replied Rose. “It will be full enough presently. It’s full every night, but the best day of all is Sunday. Business is brisk from early morning till daylight Monday.” “ Pretty hard on the girls.” • The barmaid smiled. “ The goldfields are hard on everyone.” “ How does that little girl stand it— Mary something?” “ Mary Taylor ? ” “Yes, that’s her.” Rose shrugged her shoulders. “ She doesn’t work as hard as the others, ’ she said frigidly. “ How’s that? ” The girl washed a glass by simply dipping it in water and setting it aside to dry. “ She’s not as popular with the boys as the rest of them.” Duggan was interested. > “ Perhaps that’s an advantage?” he suggested insinuatingly. “ A doubtful one, I should say,” Rose sniffed and raised her eyebrows. _ “A girl’s not here for fun. Her job is to draw trade. If she doesn’t ” “ Well.” “ Why, the boss pays her off and she is replaced.” “ But Mary’s been here some time and hasn’t lieen replaced.” “ Good reason why.” “What is it?” “ Well, two months ago, the boss made a trip to Melbourne and engaged half a dozen girls to replace those that had left or got married. When the girls arrived, Murphy, of the Elite Dancing Saloon, met them on the wharf and offered them more money, with the result four of the six are now at his place. There’s been an awful row, but it looks as though the boss will get them back; he’s just waiting for the warden to give a decision.”

The barmaid had moved to the other end of the counter. When she came back Duggan had mastered his feelings. “ Who’s this chap Gordon, and what does he do? ” he inquired. “ He’s a gold buyer,” the girl informed him, “also he’s got a store down the street, but he’s never there, the place is ruu by a manager.” “ So that’s why he’s called Gentlema n Gordon, all the work he does is buying gold?” “ Something like that.” “ Theu I’ll take damn good care lie doesn’t get his hands on any of mine.” The girl laughed. “ You’re a funny boy,” she declared, “ you hear of a man for the first time, and immediately take a dislike to him; Gordon’s rather nice, as it happens.” “ I’ll judge that when I see him.” Rose impulsively laid a restraining hand on his arm. “ Take my advice,” she urged. “ Don't pick a quarrel with Gordon—he always wins.”

“ That remains to be proved!” Duggan snapped. The girl studied him curiously. “Why should you want to be concerned over Mary ? ” she asked. “ There are other girls, you know.” “ That’s my business,” returned Duggan grimly. “ Fill up the glasses, and don’t forget the change.” He tossed a pound note on the counter. “What does Taylor do?” he asked, when the drinks were on the counter. “Tipsy! Why, he just hangs around and does his best to keep muddled. “And he’s Mary's father? ” “ Of course.” “ No wonder the girl’s got no life in her,” Duggan continued warmly. “ What with Tipsv Taylor and Gentleman Gordon —oh hell*!” He tossed off his drink, and when the barmaid turned away, looked at Eb. “Would you still advise me to warn the girl ? ” lie inquired. The old man shook his head doubtfully. “ Dunno, I’m sure,” he answered. “ You see, this chap Gordon kind of complicates things. It seems that if the

boys start questioning Mary or trying to make things unpleasant for her they’ll be up against trouble, if what Rose says is true.” “To the devil with Gorden—count him out!” Eb glanced at his partner's set face, and felt worried. '* Why not forget th’ whole business ? ” he suggested. “ You see, th’ gal's got a champion, and from th’ seem of things don't need any assistance from th’ like of us.” “Did you hear what Rose said?” growled his companion. “She said that Mary belongs to Gordon. What do you make of that ? ” “Well,” Eb muttered thoughtfully, “ I've always considered that a woman belongs to a man when he’s got a holt on her through a parson.” “ But Rose laughed at the idea of marriage. Did you get that? ” “Yes, I heard, but most likely she meant that Gordon was fixed to marry her sometime.” Duggan spat savagely on the sandy floor. “ I don’t agree with yon.” he muttered. “ There's some very funny business going on. and l‘m going to get to the bottom of it.”

“ But why make it your business? ” protested Eb.

“ ’Tis my business. Don’t the boys already suspect Mary? And don’t they mistrust me because of my interest in the girl?”

Eb shook his head sadly. “ I always did say as women were th’ devil,” be observed. “ Where’d I have been now if I’d married th’ woman what had three men die on her?”

He drained his glass and brushed a gnarled hand over his grizzled moustache. “ They sell fair liquor here,” he added reflectively. Then, with a quick glance at his partner, he continued, “ Dave, lad, count on me. I’m with vou! ”

Duggan's set face relaxed. “Old timer,” he returned affectionately, “you and me are going to make a great washup. Maybe not to-night, nor to-morrow night, but sometime hence, we’re going to do things.” The bar was gradually filling up. Miners, in their picturesque coloured shirts, red sashed, wide-brimmed hats and knee boots, stumped noisily into the bar and demanded drinks.

Eb glanced at them without interest. “ I wonder what’s become of Tipsy Taylor?” he said, breaking the silence. Duggan awoke from his reverie. “ Sleeping it off somewhere, I expect,” he growled; then, with a trace of impatience, “ Let’s go aud see what's doing in the dance room.”

Eb followed his companion, and for some minutes they watched the wildly swaying forms that came and went through the perpetual pall of toba.ee 1 > smoke.

All at once the old man clutched his partner’s arm. “Look!” he said excitedly. “ There’s th’ chap you nearly had a row with, talking to th’ little dancing gal! ”

Duggan glanced in the direction indicated, and observed Mary sitting on a form in conversation with the big man who had dragged Tipsy’ Taylor away just when a fight seemed imminent. “What the devil’s he doing here?” he muttered. “ He’s not a miner, and now I can see him in the light, I’m positive I’ve run across him somewhere before, but—-where? ” “ Seems to be makin’ himself agreeable! ” commented Eb. Duggan swore under his breath. “ Yes,” he admitted savagely, “ that type of man is generally a favourite with women; he’s got a devil-may-care manner, and he’s handsome with it —wish I could think where I’d met him.”

Eb struck a match and relit his pipe. “ You’re cut out to-night,” he laughed slvlv.

Suddenly Duggan slapped his thigh. I’ve got it,” he said, “ I know our friend now—l met him on the Australian goldfields, then he was known as Dutch Charlie, and he was hunted off the diggings for some shady business or other. Dutch Charlie —I thought there was something familiar about him the other night. Now what the devil is he doing here? ” .

Eb became imbued with some of his partner’s excitement. “I bet he ain't Dutch Charlie here. Look at his clothes, and his grey topper of a hat, he looks almost like a gentleman! ” “We’ll very soon learn who he is! ” returned Duggan quickly. “ Rose will know.”

He strode back to the bar. “ Who's that fellow with Mary Taylor?” he demanded.

The girl laughed and shook her head. “ How should I know ? ” she returned. “ I’ve not seen him.”

“ Then take a look at him through the curtain there,” he ordered. For a moment she hesitated, but something in his peremptory’ manner caused her to do his bidding. When she returned there was an amused smile on her face. “That’s Gentleman Gordon! ” she informed him lightly. “So I thought,” Duggan’s tone was now strangely quiet. The smile left the girl’s face. “You’re not going to make any trouble for yourself, are you?” she inquired, half fearfully. Duggan laughed loudly and tightened the sash about his waist. “ That’s just the last thing I contemplate,” he answered mockingly. “Eb and I are going to do a bit of dancing.”

Rose watched Duggan’s tall form disappear, then she sighed and resumed her work.

Duggan strode into the dance room and paused. A girl with painted lips and rouged cheeks leered, at him.

“ Hallo! ” she smiled invitingly. “ You and me, this time? ”

He grinned. “ Why, yes,” he answered. “ It’s you and me for this.” The next minute he was waltzing to the discordant music.

“ You’ve not been here before, have you, boy ? ” She kept up a constant flow of conversation, but he was not listening; he was watching Mary and Gordon. Once he caught Mary’s eye and he thought she blushed, then she laughed and turned to her companion again.

When the dance ended Duggan bought the customary two drinks and declined his partner’s invitation to circle < floor again. Turning he glanced down the room and saw that Gordon had gor.e and Mary was standing by herself. Setting down his glass he went and stood beside her.

She started when she glanced round and saw him. “Why, it's you!” she exclaimed with a trace of nervousness.

Duggan studied her at close range. Her pale face had two spots of colour in it to-night, but her dark eyes held a faraway brooding look, as though she were considering some grave matter. “ Yes,” he answered morosely. “ it's me.” Then abruptly he asked, “ What do you see in that waster Gordon ? ” Her lips parted in surprise. “What do you mean ? ” she said hesitatingly “I—l don't understand you?” “ I think you do—l happen to know Gordon!” Her colour deepend, and she seemed ill at ease. “Please explain what you mean? ” she said at last. Duggan’s lips curled in a sneer. “You think Gordon a fine fellow?” He felt pleased when he saw that he had angered her. “I'm going.” she murmured, “if you intend to talk about my friends like that.”

“Friends!” he scoffed. She went to move away, but Duggan seized her wrist, and pulled her down on a form beside him. “ Sit down.” he ordered. I'm talking for your own good. I’ve heard things about you and Gordon, and I want to stop you being a darned little fool.” “ Let me go,” she said furiously. “ When I've had my say,” he returned. “Then, if you’re still of the same mind, you can please yourself.” She looked at him fearfully. “ I wish you wouldn't say such things,” she said unsteadily.

“ Listen. Mary,” he went on more gently. “ I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. but when I think of Gordon I get mad.” “ But what’s he done? ” “ The story's too long to tell now.” “And you wish me to believe that?” “ That's why I’m telling you.” “ Suppose I say you're wrong? ” “But I'm not wrong!” “ I don’t believe you.” “ You're fond of Gordon ? ” he continued incredulously.

“I didn't say it.” “ But you are.” “ Perhaps.” “Good Lord!” he groaned. The girl had got over her agitation.. Now she smiled, and Duggan realised that nothing he could say would weigh with her. “Well. Miss Taylor ” She suddenly shrank back. “ So you've found out ? ” she said breathlessly. “Oh I’m sorry.” “Why be sorry?” his; tone was curt. “ One's not responsible for the deeds of ones parents!” “ No. but ”

He waited while ®he stared blindly across the room. When she turned to him again there were tears in her eyes.

“ I should like to tell you something.” she said impulsively. “It may relieve my mind.” “Then fire ahead.”

“ I must go back to when I was a child. Tn those days my father was employed by a bank, and he was respected. Then one night he came home and told mother that he’d lost his job through drink. For some time he was idle, and mother had a terrible struggle. She _ could not afford to send me to school, so she taught me at home; she had been a school teacher before she was married. Gradually things became worse, and father drank more heavily. My mother did everything possible, and always believed that one day she would be aide to persuade him to give up the drink. But she never did; she died instead. On her death bed she made me promise to stick to him and endeavour to do what she had not been spared to do. I have kept my promise; I’ve never left him, but, oh. it's so hopeless. I can do nothing. . .”

“Poor kid,” said Duggan, profoundly moved.

“ Now—now you know why I work in the dance halls?”

“Is the money all vou have to live on? ”

“We have nothing else,” “ Let ine take you away to a city, or somewhere where life is easier? ” he'said eagerly. The girl shook her head. “ I can’t ” ehe murmured hopelessy. “ Father wouldn’t go. so I must stay.” “ Where does Gordon come in on all this? ” he asked suddenly. “ He’s trying to help me,” she replied. For a time Duggan dare not trust himself to speak. It all came Lack to him

in a flash. He remembered Gordon, or Dutch Charlie, now. The whole sordid story of the girl who had drowned herself rather than face disgrace. He ground his teeth savagely, and knew it was hopeless to try and make Mary understand. He had no proof; nothing that would convince her that his story wag true. Gordon was apparently befriending Taylor, and for this doubtful favour Mary was grateful. The girl broke in on his thoughts. “ I mustn’t sit here any longer,” she sa>d hurriedly. “ They’ll say I’m not earning my wages. I mustn’t lose that, it would be fatal. Will you dance with me — quick? ” Duggan.’s brain seemed numbed. When he made no movement, she sprang up and seized Eb, who sat a few yards a ■wav.

“Dance—dance’” she cried excitedly, and before the bewildered old man realised what had happened, he was trying to waltz. Duggan watched them for a few moments, then he walked slowly back to the bar.

“What’s the story of Gordon and Tipsy Taylor? ” he asked Rose when she came and stood before him.

“ I warned you not to concern yourself with Gordon,” replied the girl. “In any case we'H lose them both in a week or two—Gordon's sold his store, and as soon as things are fixed up he and Taylor are leaving the town for good. “And Alary?” he asked quickly. “ She’ll go with them. She won’t leave lu?r father, but she'll soon be free, for the old man is rapidly drinking himself to death! ”

“ Does that mean that she will then be at Gordon's merev? ”

Rose shrugged her shoulders. “ What’s she going to do? She won’t have a father or a job or any money! ” Suddenly Duggan’s language became so lurid that it startled everyone who heard it. The barmaid recoiled terrified. The next moment he was striding back to the dance room.

As Mary came towards him, he pulled her roughly out of Eb’s arms.

“ Listen! ” he said fiercely, “ Gordon will never get you! ” At that moment a sneering laugh rang out behind him, and a suave voice exclaimed :

“ There are times when one can. what you call, make a statement too positive! ”

Ho swung round just in time to see Gordon’s big form disappearing in the crowd.

(To be continued.)