The Gold Magnet

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 12, 5 April 1927, Page 14

The Gold Magnet

S y

T.C.Bridges,

i Author of " The Whip Hand/* Price of Liberty/* ** The Home Her Father»/* fire.. &c.

SYNOPSIS OP PREVIOUS CHAPTERS CHAPTERS I. to lII.—A ferocious face, pressed against the window of a train, frightens a mysterious passenger, Stuart Egerton, who is interested in Malayan tin mines, and just afterwards, the train is wrecked. Bruce Carey gets Egerton out of the wreck, but the man is dying. He gets Bruce to promise that he will deliver a bag, which contains an invention, to his daughter, Silvia, who holds the key. A pitiless enemy, James Lurjtan, who has ruined Bruce’s half-brother, also wants the invention. Bruce finds an American friend. Randolph Colt. The motor in which they are travelling to Silvia's cottage is held up by armed men. CHAPTERS 111. to V.—Having no alternative, Bruce hands over the bag containing the invention. After the interruption the two men reach Silvia’s home. When Bruce tells her of the robbery of the invention entrusted to him she says it is useless without the directions, which are In her possession. He vows to recover it from Lurgan. Bruce’s halfbrother, Claude Bryston, goes to a gambling house near Hyde Park, and Bruce follows. After some sharp practice on the part of a man Crane and an accomplice Stroud, there are heated words and a fight. CHAPTERS VI. to VIIJ—A rough-and-tumble of four men against two. Claude wakes up suddenly and comes to the rescue of his brother’s friend. The final victory is with Carey and Colt. Bruce tells his brother about Egerton and Lurgan, and adds that Claude is to keep out of it. The next day Bruce travels down to Mortimer, where Silvia dwells, to attend Egerton’s funeral Afterwards he goes to Deeping Cottage. He expresses his anxiety about Silvia’s future, and she assures him that she has an independency, inherited from her mother. Bruce gives her Colt’s idea as to what Luigan Is likely to do, then takes leave as he intends walking back to Reading. On the way Lurgan steps out of a wood and joins him. proposes a half share in the new Gold Recovery Syndicate. Bruce tells him that lie would sooner go into partnership with the devil. CHAPTERS IX. to XIII.—A strategic step is made by Claude, who cultivates the friendship of Duggan, one of Lurgan’s henchmen, and finds out where Lurgan lives. A raid on the villain's house is contemplated. At. Silvia’s tnvitation, Bruce goes to Reading to look through her father's papers anc he makes the discovery that his one desire is to “take her in his arms and never leave her.’’ Then he sets out to m xke the raid on Lurgan’s place, single-handed: and in the dusk arrives at Friar’s Bank. The old mansion is forbidding, but Bruce forces iron bars apart and gets Egorton’s bag from the strong room. The burglary is discovered and Bruce is pursued and shot at. He trips on an obstacle and becomes unconscious. CHAPTER XIV.: Brine wakes up to find himself trapped; they have been waiting for his attempt to rob the house. Lurgan renews his offer of a partnership and Bruce refuses until he is threatened with imprisonment not only for burglary but for manslaughter, our h« ro having knocked down and killed a man who tried to stop him from escaping.

CHAPTER XV.—THE GREY MAN. Bruce was thinking 1 furiously. Yes, Lurgan was right, and even though his estimate of twenty years might be exaggerated, ten years was the least he could expect. It was a ghastly idea. All the best of his life to be spent in the living death of a convict prison, and, even when he had served his sentence, and had been released, he would be a branded man. It meant not only loss of liberty and loss of fortune, but also —what was far worse—loss of all hope of making Silvia his wife, and in spite of himself he shivered slightly. Lurgan, who still stood towering above him, watching him keenly, divined his hesitation. ‘“Come now,” he said, and for once his harsh- voice was almost soft, “you don’t like me, I know, but, after all, what difference does that make? Business associations have nothing to do with sentiment. Your rights and those of Miss Egerton will be guarded legally, and the thing is so big—there’s so much money in it that it matters little whether there are one or two or half a dozen in it. There are fortunes for all of us. Another thing”—and now he was speaking almost eagerly—“l can bring into the partnership not only business experience, but also the capital without which this invention cannot possibly be developed as it should be developed.” He paused to allow Bruce to answer, and it would be absurd to deny that Bruce was strongly tempted. Indeed. for the moment it seemed to him that there was no possible way out except to fall in with Lurgan’s suggestion. I-Ie felt oddly weak and undecided. “I—l don’t know what to say,” he answered hoarsely * Let me think.”

But Lurgan did not move. He remained beside the couch, with his hard grey eyes fixed upon Brucc. “You have had plenty of time to think,” he answered. “You must make up your mind at once. The doctor may be here at any moment.” There was a knock, and Lurgan whirled round. “Is that you, Oakes?” he asked harshly as he strode across towards the door. Instantly Bruce felt as if a great weight had been lifted from him. Bruce knew' nothing of hypnotism, or he w'ould have realised that in his weakened state he had been unknowingly influenced by Lurgan’s huge and powerful personality. The interruption, momentary as it was, had removed this influence, and suddenly he found himself able to think for himself. He shivered again, but this time at the thought of his weakness. Before his mind’s eye rose the face of Randolph, and he thought of the scorn with which Colt would have regarded such a surrender on his part. ] Next minute Lurgan was back i again beside him. “The doctor is ! here.’ he said swiftly. "The time is up. What have you decided?

“To have nothing whatever to do with your proposition, Mr. Lurgan,” replied Bruce with sharp decision. “As I have told you already, prison will be preferable to any association with you or your gang.” Lurgan’s great fists clenched, and if ever murder showed in a man’s eyes it was in his. “You fool!” he hissed. “You doubly damned fool. It’s not prison, it’s the gallows you’ll go to.” He turned to the door. “Oakes!” he called. There entered a lean, grey man. He was all grey, hair, clothes, bushy grey eyebrcAvs. Even his skin had a sort of ashy hue. He was as tall as Lurgan, but hardly half his weight. He stooped badly, and at first sight Bruce took him to be at least sixty years old. But, as he came nearer, Bruce mentally took nearly twenty years from his first estimate, for, in spite of the grey hair, the man’s skin was smooth and his eyes clear. Weird eyes they were, and yellow as those of a jackal. Oakes walked on the balls of his feet, making no sound as he trod, and to Bruce he was every bit as repulsive, though in a different way, as Lurgan. “Where is the doctor, Oakes?” demanded Lurgan. “In the dining-room,” answered Oakes in his queer, husky voice. “I told him I’d call you.” “He must wait!” snapped Lurgan. I have to telephone.” Oakes’ yellow eyes fixed upon Bruce with a queer expression of surprise and dismay. “You don’t mean to tell me he’s turned you down,” he said. “Exactly what I do mean,” replied Lurgan furiously. “And, by God, he shall sweat for it. lam going to call the police.” Oakes pursed his lips oddly. “If you do that, it’s the finish as far as the magnet is concerned,” he warned the other. Lurgan swore savagely. “Don’t be too sure of that. There are others with brains besides this doublydistilled fool.” Oakes spoke to Bruce. “Best change your mind, Mr. Carey; prisons are bad places. They drive a man mad, and the more brains he’s got the sooner he loses them—l know,” he added with a crooked grin. Bruce bit his lip. He was getting very near the end of his tether. “There are worse things than prison.” he said curtly, ‘“and so I have told Mr. Lurgan. Get on with it.

and call the police. The sooner I am out of this house the better I shall be pleased.” “Before you are a month older you will be praying to be back here,” said Lurgan fiercely. He turned to Oakes. “Watch him,” he said. “Watch him. Don’t take any chances. If he moves, take the poker to him.” Four strides took him out into the hall, and as the door closed Bruce heard him lift the receiver from the telephone. Oakes shook his grey head. “A fool he called you, Mr. Carey, and I tell you he is right. When Lurgan gets the bit between his teeth he is a terror. He will go the limit now.”

“Thank you, Mr. Oakes,” said Bruce, “but I think I know pretty well by this time what your friend is capable of.” Oakes shook his head again. “You don’t, mister. You have not known his 'as long as me.” He pulled up a chair, and sat down, then he took from his pocket a small automatic pistol, and laid it on the table beside him. “I don’t hold with pokers,” he observed softly. “A gun was always my weapon. I’m a dead shot, Mr. Carey, so you may as well sit where you are.” He paused, and poured himself out some brandy. “Will you take a drink, Mr. Carey?” he said. “You may not get another chance for quite a while.” Bruce felt that his sorely-tried temper was on the edge of cracking. He bit his lip. “No, thank you,” he said curtly. Oakes took no offence. He sat sipping his brandy, with his queer yellow eyes fixed on Bruce. In the hall was a sound of steps. A door opened and closed, and Bruce knew that the doctor was in the gunroom, examining the dead body of Denyer. The die was cast, and now there was no longer any retreating from the position which he had taken up. There are times when a man reaches the very limit of his endurance, and this was now the case with Bruce. A merciful drowsiness stole over him, and in spite of the cruel ache of his wounded head, his eyes closed, and he lay still. Presently his breathing slowed, and Oakes saw that he was asleep.

“By thunder, but he’s got a nerve,” Observed that gentleman softly. CHAPTER XVI. —INTRODUCING A LAWYER. In all his twenty-four years, Claude Bryson had never done a stroke of work —that is, he had never earned a pound except at a gambling table. But now Bruce’s return, and the row at Duke Street, and more particularly the long talks which he had had with his half-brother, had roused the boy to do what was for him quite a lot of thinking. And the result of all this thinking was that, on the morning after Bruce’s journey to Reading, Claude took a taxi and went to Bedford Row, where he rang at a door, on which was a brass piate inscribed Messrs. Hammond and Sons, Solicitors. A boy opened the door. “Morning, Jimmy,” said Claude. “Is Mr. Mark in?” “Yes, sir,” responded the boy, grinning. “I’ll see if he is disengaged. Will you come into the waitingroom?” Claude’s wait was not a long one, for in a minute or two the boy was back. “Mr. Hammond will see you, sir,” he said, and led the way across the hall into a large oak-panelled room, handsomely furnished, and with a fine Turkey carpet on the spacious floor. The owner of all this magnificence, a big handsome man of about thirty, who sat at a great pedestal desk by the tall window, got up as his visitor came in. “Hullo, Claude,” he exclaimed. “I could hardly believe my ears when Jimmy said you were here. I thought you were generally enjoying your Vi-spring mattress at this hour in the morning.” “I have turned over a new leaf, Mark,” Claude answered. “I am going to get up as early as you in future. I’ve decided to go into business.” Mark Hammond’s eyes widened. “Wonders will never cease. And what particular business are you thinking of gracing, Claude?” “Haven’t a notion —that’s why l came to you.” Hammond laughed. It was a big, deep laugh, which matched his big, fine self. “Though you may not believe it, I have my limits, Claude, but sit down and explain the reason of this sudden desire to abandon your butterfly existence.” (To be continued.)