THE HOUSE ON THE RIVER

Stratford Evening Post, Issue 84, 7 February 1928, Page 2

THE HOUSE ON THE RIVER

BY FRED M, WHITE. Author of "Tho Cardinal Moth," "The Crimson Blind," "The Maa Called Gil my,"- eto., etc. CHAPTER IV.—THE SKELETON AT THE FEAST. "I expected it," he said soolly. "They'll be waiting for me when I get; home. How did Ted take it?" "dn, terribly, terribly. All the courage has left him. He is going to do nothing, Mike, he is simply going to sit down and wait for them. He wants to compromise, he wants you to let those men have all they're after on condition that there are no further proceedings." "Yes, that would suit them very well," Quint smiled. "And would you like me to do it, Ennie?" Ennie hesitated just for a moment. It was such an easy way out. There would be no trouble or anxiety then, and, in any case. Michel Quint would be none the worse off. Then he could look the whole world in the face, and go his own way. But it was only for a moment, and then Ennie's eyes hardened. "No, I wouldn't," she said. "I'd fight them to the bitter end. The truth must come out some day. Oh, Mike, 'I hope you don't think that I am hard and unfeeling?"

"On the contrary, I never admired you more than I do at this moment," Mike said.

"And I am going to light those devils and beat them. I start tonight. In Enderby's safe lies our salvation. I believe that the alleged forged bill is there. If I ca n get hold of that I can laugh at Enderby, and oven if I can't I can get away with all Ted Somerset's blue prints, without which • those chaps can make nothing of their theft."

"If you only 'could!" Ennie sigh-

"Well, why not? I know where the stuff is. I know every inch of the ground, and I have the finest set of safe-breaking implements in the world. More than that, I have been sounding Enderby. I told him just now that I should like to see him for a few minutes after dinner, but he told me that he had important business with John Claw that would take him till after midnight. That's John Claw, sitting by his side. The bald-headed man with the sanctimonious face and the red nose. He's one of the biggest hypocrites in th e City of London. A sanctimonious, oily humbug, who robs people all the week, and thanks God h e is better than most men on a, Sunday. He doesn't mind being a shareholder in a big golf clul) where Sunday play i s the backbone of its fortunes. Never mind about Claw, we shall probably hear more of him ilater on. You see, I have established the fact that Enderby won't be home till long after midnight, and by that time the papers ought to be safely in my pocket."

"And if you fail?" Ennie asked. "Oh, I'm not going to fail." "But if you do?" "Ah, there you have me," Quint confessed.

"Then let .me make a suggestion," Ennie said eagerly. "If you fail, go across the common and hide yourself in the old boat-house. Stay there all to-night and half to-mor-row if necessary. I can't tell you more now, because there is no time. If those men down there miss you, they may become alarmed. G'o back to your seat and good luck to you." With a few words more, Quint strolled carelessly out of the gallery, and went back to his seat. Ennie stayed till she saw him talking across the table to Enderby and the man called John Claw, then • she stole out of the gallery in her turn, [and made her way homewards. Just j then she rejoiced in the fact that the small flat in Halford Street boasted no porter, for the scheme she had in her mind was on e that called for the utmost secrecy. She was glad, tbo, that Margaret was away, and i that the woman who cleaned up in 'the flat only came there in the early j mornings. Once the front door was | closed behind'her, Ennie darted in.to her bed-room. She, emerged half an hour later, but changed absotlutely beyond recognition. The masses of her luxuriant hair were rolled up and tightly hidden under a tweed cap that came well down over her forehead. She was attired from head to foot in the sort of loud costume that the coster af- , fects on a holiday. Over her coat was a double breasted pea-jacket and round her neck a flaming red scarf. But the boots she wore were browntan, of a goliing pattern, with indiarubber studs on the soles. With one glance at herself in the glass to poo taat all was correct, she Idnii-u off the* iigM-3 ""<'•. putting clown the latch, of the front door, stole down the stairs was presently swallowed up in the darkness of the night.

CHAPTER V.—A BOOTLESS ERRAND. The purple outline of the big house on Barnes Common was faintly blurred against the velvety umber of the night, like a touch of ragged brushwork on a canvas. It was still comparatively early, barely eleven o'clock, for it was no far cry from the Leinster Rooms to Barnes Common once Quint had left the dinner with a, promise to call and see Ralph Enderby at (he club shortly after mid-night. If Quint were successful, then he had small intention of troubling Enderby that night-or at any time In the future-. To he continued. v

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