The King of Greenhaven

Putaruru Press, Volume XII, Issue 562, 8 March 1934, Page 7

The King of Greenhaven

SERIAL. STORY

By RICHARD WAYNE.

All Rights Reserved,

“Not at the time being,” Joad said stolidly. “You can see tor yourself that there’s not much doing, at the .moment. But, as 1 was saying about you and Miss Joan . . . .” “I don’t wish to hear what you were saying,” Roger cut in. "Something quite impertinent, I’ve no doubt. You might do worse than remember, Joad, that -there is a limit to hypocrisy and bare-faced effrontery.” “No call to lose your temper,” the ■old fellow said, with no sign of perturbation. “Greenhaven has set its heart on a match between the two of you, Mr Merriman.”

Roger turned his back on the old rascal, and hurried away. It needed no such incident to give him a sense of satisfaction in contemplating the day of reckoning which awaited Ben Joad. The cunning and malice which underlay the ostensible simplicity of Joad’s comments made him more determined than ever that this hoary impostor should not escape the exposure and punishment he had earned. The fateful day came sooner than Roger had expected; and he received bis first intimation of it by the appearance of the lorries, in their customary secluded position. Beyond giving the signals arranged to those who were to co-operate in the operations which were designed to end smuggling at Greenhaven, there was nothing Roger could do, except go about his usual occupations in the bird sanctuary.

He,took it for granted that he was more closely observed than before, and that any variation from his usual procedure might excite suspicion, at the time when it was most desirable to produce a sense of security. The day dragged slowly out, spent in tasks now held no interest, since Mefrima'n was preoccupied with the issue of the coming night, and all that depended upon it. Yet he must follow bis custom of working as long as daylight permitted; and for once Roger found fault with the lengthening of the days, because it delayed his return to Greenhaven. At last he decided that it was safe to start for home, a last cautious inspection of the lorries revealing that the man with glasses was noting every move he made. And as he came to Greenhaven, Joan stood in the middle of the road to stop his car; and by her face Roger knew that she was aware of What was planned for that night, and Was in dread of it. “Jump in,” he ordered. “I wonder If you know how I miss you these idays.”

“Oh, Roger 1" she said breathlessly. *‘T wanted to tell you. They will be Tunning a cargo to-night.” “That was sure to happen, sooner or later,” he said, “Are you sure It is to-night?” “Don't you see,” she asked with an

impatient gesture. “Something will happen. I told you what Mr Chance threatened, if 1 returned here. And now I feel that he is doing as he said, and it is all my fault.”

“But how could he know?” Roger asked.

“Anybody could know,” Joan said scornfully. "A child could tell that something was in the air, just by walking through the village. Roger, if Dad goes out in his boat to-night . . . But I have asked him not to go, for my sake.” “Well?”

“He asked me the reason of my sudden whim. As if I could tell him."

“But why not? Why not repeat just what Chance said, as the reason why you ask him not tfetake the boat out?” “I couldn’t. r wouldn’t have him think that I doubted him. I was tongue-tied, Roger. What must I do?"

“I’m afraid you can do nothing, except wait on a happy ending,” Roger I said. “If you were to tell Wedlake of the threat which Chance employed, you would only make /him the more determined to take his boat out. Whatever unworthy suspicions Chance has managed to infect you with—and they are unworthy, Joan, as you Will presently admit —you cannot imagine Wedlake skulking at home, when the men were in danger of interference.” “No. he would never do that.” “Then he will go, whatever you may say. For my part, I think it improbable that Chance will Interfere, and impossible that Wedlake is involved in smuggling.” “I wish I had your faith,” Joan said mournfully, as Roger stopped the car at her gate. “Promise me that you will stay indoors, Roger. I feel that there will be bad work to-night.” “If I thought that, how could I promise?” Roger asked evasively. “Goodnight, Joan; you will see the world in brighter colours to-morrow.” It cut at his heart-strings to leave her there, so white and forlorn; but there seemed to be no choice in the matter. Outside the Lobster-pot he was stopped once more, by Abel Sharman this time.

“Will you be cruising to-night, Mr Merriman, along with Mr Wedlake?" “I hadn’t thought of it. Sharman,” Roger answered. “And I’ve heard nothing from Mr Wedlake.” “I wouldn’t think of it, sir, even If Mr Wedlake asked you,” Abel said earnestly. “There was some talk the last time, and I wouldn’t like to have more than talk.” “Threats. Sharman?”

“There are those who say you see more than you need, and know more than is good for you.” Sharman said doggedly. “Call what f say a threat, if you like, I mean it as no more than a warning."

“Warning for warning, Sharman,” ! Roger replied gravely. . “Take care lest that bold spirit of yours may lead you into doing something which will bring serious trouble upon you. You and your friends are fools, living in a food’s paradise of security. Do you think, man, that it can go on for ever?” “Who'll stop us?” Abel asked. “Anybody who tries it, will do so at his own peril.” “I’m not so sure,” Roger retorted.

“Informers have a trick of saving their own skins. But 1 thank you for your warning, just the same; I think it was well-meant.” “It was all of that,” Abel answered. “In doors is the right place for you to-night, sir.” Roger drove away, wondering whether he would be able to carry out his plans, without interference. On that score he was enlightened early in the evening, for on glancing out of the window, after dinner, he described the ungainly bulk of Sam Trench, stationed outside his door on sentry duty. And for that, Roger surmised, he had to thank the wily Mr Ben Joad. The watch set upon him gave him little or no concern. To ,evade this stupid giant, send to escape into the covering darkness, was a simple matter, though his absence from the cottage might later be discovered. That might have been Important while his work at Greenhaven remained incomplete ; but within a few hours, he hoped, an end would be put to Greenhaven smuggling. - He put out the lamp at the usual time; and after a reasonable delay, and an inspection of the sentry at his door, he opened his bedroom window and slipped out. He had to leave the open window, as evidence of his evasion, but when once he was clear of the house, that gave him no concern. Stealing noiselessly down the slope, he posted himself in a little clump of bushes, which he had marked down as an observation post from which the road to Swayle sanctuary could be watched.

Crouched in this shelter, Roger heard the hoarse shout with which Trench, half an hour later, announcTrench, some half-hour later, announed that the bird he had been watching had flown. He could also hear abuse shouted at Trench for his carelessness; but apparently the men had too much to do, to allow them to waste time in any search for Roger. “You know what to do, if he shows himself,” Abel Sharman shouted. “When I’ve time Sam Trench, I’ll have something to say about you letting himgo.”

And that was all, for the time being. Long minutes passed slowly by, and stretched out into nearly an hour, by Roger’s wrist Watch. And then, very slowly and quietly,, the lorries came drifting along the road into Greenhaven. Almost as soon as they had passed him, Roger heard the roar of Wedlake’s engine, • and decided it was time to see what happened at the harbour.

He made a detour, over ground which he had chosen carefully by daylight, and arrived unseen near the entrance to the pier, where the usual small grooup of men-were posted. He could not see them, as he crouched low behind a post; but thelr low-voic-ed talk came to him with startling distinctness. “I tell you it was not Merriman,” one voice said. “It was Miss Joan her own self. Passed only two yards away from me, she did. I could most have touched her. Tell me I don’t know Miss Joan from Merriman ?”

“iXihat would she be doing then?” the other speaker asked. “Never before, in all this time, has she gone night-riding With her father. ’Tain’t natural she should be out with him to-night.” i - - - ii“YVell, she is,” said the first man confidently. “Make what you like of it.” CHAPTER XXIV. They were still discussing it, as Roger* slipped past' them unobserved, making in the direction where he supposed; the lorries to be waiting. ' He did | not know whether to be glad or sorry that Joan had- persuaded Wedlake to take, her out on the power boat, having failed in her effort to keep him ashore. He understood what a,relief it must be to her, to exchange the suspense of waiting for a' share in action, whatever it might lefa to.

Roger flattered himself that it would lead to nothing, since ,he had been at some pains- to arrange it so. But the thought of Joan hurtling through the darkness: disturbed him, as he recalled his own eerie experience, when Wedlake took him as companion. i Joan hath as a-matter of fact so Importuned Wedlake, first; that he’ should, not gd‘ out at all;, or,'if'he fnust go,' that he should take her with him, that her guardian reluctantly consented to the second alternative.

“Though,-for dnee, you seem to me unreasonable,” he added. "You mil at know that you will only he lm my way, if anything should,happen, as you sugr, gest is probable. , And if nothing'.at all should’happen, there is no reason why yewi should be there.”

“Or you ’ either/* Joan retorted. “Isn’t it enough fob you to know that I shall he better with you, than waiting miserably at home, in dread of every sound.”

“And before that visit to London, you used to go to bed and sleep through it all,” Wedlake reminded her. “You were not troubled by presentiments, or anything foolish, at that time.”

“I should never have gone to London,” Joan agreed. “But I’m afraid you must accept the consequences, Dad. And I promise not to be a nuisance, or to get in the way, if you will only take me with you."

And so, as the fishermen had remarked, Joan had put out in the speedboat, with no further word on either side. Her drooping spirits rose, in the first rush out to sea. The wind anid spray on her face, the enfolding darkness, and the leaping speed of the boat were all “in accord with her humour of the hour.

It was easy to disregard any danger that might lurk in the blackness of the night; easier by far than to wait at home, dreading what any minute might bring forth. Even the suspicion of Wedlake, which had so distressed her ever since Chance had formulated it in clear uncompromising words, seemed an unreasonable thing, while she sat by him in his boat, and rushed away into the empty night. And while Joan took comfort in the motion and the novelty of the experience, Wedlake suddenly switched on his lamp, and flooded the restless waters with light.' Before Joan’s dazzled eyes had accustomed themselves to the glare, he had switched the light off again; and he also stilled the turmoil of the engine. “Listen, Joan,” he said, speaking in his usual manner. “Your presentiment, or whatever it was, seems not to be so vain a thing as I had thought it. There is a boat lying where no boat would be, on ordinary business; and from the glimpse I had of her, I venture the guess that she’s a preventive craft.” “What shall we .do, then?”

“If you were not here, I know what I should do, well enough But, as you are here, it is a question with me whether I ought not to slip away while I can, and get you back to the shore in safety.” “You wouldn’t do that, Dad?” Joan pleaded. “I should never be able to look you in the face again.” “She’s making for us,” Wedlake said. “And if I slip her, she’ll blunder right into those poor wools who are lifting their contraband. This is an ugly fix which you’ve landed me, my girl.”

“I’m .not here at all,” Joan said. “You hear, Dad; you must just carry on as though I were at home.” “Right!” Wedlake decided, in an instant. “Now we draw the pursuit. Sit tight, Joan, and do exactly as I order.”

At that he started his engine again, and at the same time switched on.the strong lamp which advertised his whereabouts to the boat now coming up to investigate. Wedlake’s boat shot .forward, but not at the high speed which her owner usually affected. At the same time their pursuer turned on a strong searchlight, directing it full upon the chase. As they splashed over th’e sea, Joan grasped the purpose of Wedlake’s manoeuvres. Like the mother lapwing he was drawing the revenue men away from the smugglers, disguising tlfe high speed of .which he was capable. Turned halfway round, to watch the pursuer, Joan saw that she was drawing oloser with every minute of ,their flight. Nearer and nearer she crept. Wedlake marked the distance she gained, for he frequently turned to look over his shoulder; but he never quickened the speed he was making, or made any move to escape. Presently the pursuer was near enough to hail them, and a hoarse shout conveyed by a megaphone, reached Joan’s ears, even above the noise of their throbbing engine. “Heave to, or we’ll fire upon you.” “Lie down.” Wedlake shouted. “Flat on the boards, Joan.” As Joan obeyed, he cut off his betraying light, and quickened his pace. At once there was a rattle, which Joan liSnew must mean the discharge of a machine gun. “Keep down,” Wedlake called at the pitch of his voice. “That was to scare us. Next time they may try to hit us.”

They were driving at ful speed now, and leaving their pursuers rapidly. Once more came the rattle of machine gun fire, and Joan heard the -whine of\ bullets, and : the' zip of their contact with the water. The boat was fairly flying now, and Joan laughed aloud as she considered what Wedlake had done. He had drawn-'the fire from the revenue men, and so caused thpm to ward the real smugglers that danger was, loose on the dark, waters. The : searchlight of the following boat was dimmed by *I e distance Wedlake had put* between them. They were skimming the water at a prodigious speed, and running clean away. There was not even ‘id attempt to use the gun again. In her exhilaration at the success of Wedlake’s tactics Joan overlooked the circumstance that they .were heading into unknown wate-s. thinking more of what was behind than what lay, before them. The crash and tne shock which ended their headlong flight was the more unexpected. At one moment they were topping the waves exultantly; in the, next, -Joan found herself gasping in ice-cold water, striking out mechanically and calling on Wedlake as she swam. She could get r.o answer; there was nothing, only, the light of the revenue boat, growing hr ; ghter auil brighter. The cold numbed her, and broke her will to go on struggling. Her movements became feebler, and she f:!!. herself sinking below the surl'a ->' She knew she was drowning, and she did not wish to die' hut she could . o nothing to prevent it.

Then a strong hand grasped her arm and she felt herself lifted out of the icy stinging water.

“Dash my buttons, it’s a girl.” said a pleasant voice, in tones of amazement.

“A girl, and a one-armed man," grumbled a deeper and rougher voice. “'Girl coming aboard sir. half-drown-ed." Joan gulped down somelh’ng hot, that made her gasp adn splutter. She saw dimly a circle of many faces, interested and concerned

“There’s a warm bunk waiting for you," said the pleasant voice she had first heard. “You’d better turn in before you catch your death of cold. We’ll manage to dry ofT your clothes somehow, I expect."

“My father?" Joan asked, her trembling lips hardly able to frame the words. “He’ll do, I reckon,” was the reassuring answer. “He had a tot of hot grog, and fell fast asleep. But he’ll have to wake up presently, and answer a few questions. And your turn comes after his, Miss, if you’d like to know.” “What did we hit?”

“Search me. You get into the blankets, or you’ll be sick on our hands. You’ve trouble enough in store without that.”

“I think I will,” Joan agreed. “Thank you very much.” “And take another pull at that tumbler before you drop off,” someone advised.

Joan was shown to a little cabin, and flung off her soaked garments, to snuggle luxuriously 1 among waWned blankets. A pleasant •lrowsiness took possession of her and she ebuld not have moved a finger, even at a king’s command. The next thing she knew, somebody was shaking her shoulder, not too gently. (To be Continued).