The Laky in the Black Mask

Sun (Christchurch), Volume I, Issue 55, 11 April 1914, Page 4

The Laky in the Black Mask

CHAPTER Vll.—(Continued.) "I wanted to get out.sometimes at night —to see a girl I knew. All straight and above board, sir, but she couldn't get away until after ten, and that was the time I was supposed to be in by, even on the few Bights that I did get out. So I had another key made."

"If you wanted to slip out, why couldn't you use the key that belonged to the door?" asked Bellamy. "Because it might have been missed," answered the man. "Mr Verinder always made the rounds himself at the last moment, and locked the, doors; that kej used to hang on a nail at the side of the door. If I had taken it, and he had happened to come round, I should have lost my place; because he was the sort Of man who -would have waited until I came back. So I had this other key made, and used to slip out sometimes. "

'' Then it was your key—the one you had made for yourself—which you brought to me when I asked for the key of that door—eh?" The man nodded. "I had got afraid," he said, "and I did it on the spur of the moment. But as for anything else, sir, I declare to you that I am as innocent "

"That'll do; I don't want to heav anything more. But I shall keep my eye on you, my lad, so you'd better be careful. You can go now; and you can lock that door at the back, and bring the key to me." After the key was brought by the now submissive Gieen, Bellamy sat -for a long time, witn his head on one side, and tapping the key thoughtfully against his teeth. • Presently he got up, with an air of resolution, and' put the key in his pocket. He was just about to go from the house by the front way into the street; he changed his mind, went through the house, and let himself out by the key at the back, locked.the door, and walked quickly away, carrying the key with him.

On that morning also Clement Singleton, happily ignorant of the fact that he was not to see Ruth again foi some considerable time, set off to a certain office in the eity, as directed by Morris Loader, there to take up his new duties. He was quite excited about it, and quite delighted to feel that he had secured such a good post. It was only when the thought flashed across his mind, from time to time, of all that.Ruth had told him concerning this man whose confidential secretary he was to be, that the bright vision of the future was clouded. And, then, in a determined way, Clement reminded himself that for Ruth's sake he had to watch this man, and lieep that steady eye upon him and his movements that he had promised. Armed with Loader's key, Clement let himself into the office. He found that it consisted ©f two rooms and a. small, lobby butside; he took possession of the cuter room, knowing, by the difference of the style of furniture, that the inner one must naturally belong to Loader. There were two desks in the outer room, and he rightly judged that the smaller one in the corner must belong to the clerk who was to be his assistant.

A NEW STORY by TOM GALLON

'I he place was extremely wCll furnished, almost luxuriously, in fact, for an office. In his eagerness Clement had arrived earlier than he had intended; and it was quite ten minutes afterwards when a spare, middle-aged man came hurrying in, looking at his watch as he did so. "Good morning, sir," said the new arrival. "Mr Singleton, I suppose? Mr Loader told me about you, •sir; I sincerely hope I'm not late." "Not in the least," said Clement, with a laugh; "I'm rather early; * By the way, I'm afraid I don't even know your name?" "My name is Turner." "Well, I hope we shall be very good friends, and work together amicably, Mr Turner," said Clement, holding out his hand. "I feel quite sure that we shall. I saw Mr Loader last night, and he gave me his keys-; I am to telephone to him, on the chance of catching him at his rooms, if anything important transpires; for the rest, I am to open the letters, and generally' do things on his behalf." Clement went into the inner room, and opened the letters and got to work. There was nothing very much to do that morning; presently he took the bunch of keys out of sfs* pocket and fitted them into the various drawers of the big desk —doing that on instructions he had had from Loader the night before. He opened one after another, and glanced over the contents; one or two drawers were evidently private, andftnone of the keys would fit them. But one thing Clement found lying under some papers in a drawer puzzled him a little. It was a key. It was larger than any of the keys he had, and was not, in fact, the key of any small lock. It looked almost like the key of a door. He did not think very much about it, because at that moment Turner came into the room, and told him that Mr Loader wanted to speak to him pn the telephone. He 'laid the key down quickly on the desk, and went out. Loader merely wished to say, in a -very cordial ! voice, that he should not be up there that day, unless there was anything for which he was wanted. He hoped Clement was getting on all right, and had found no difficulties. Clement had just finished speaking' to him when the door opened, and a man came in. A tig man, with an important, genial manner. It was Clement, of course, did not know in the least who it was; he took him for an ordinary client. Bellamy advanced, and looked quickly about him. He nodded to Clement, and asked in a casual ff.shion: "Is Mr Loader in?"

"He is not," answered Cleme«£. "I've just been talking to him on the telephone, and he tells me that he will not be here to-day. He was going out' at that moment. He may not have gone," added Clement, making a movement towards the telephone—"l might manage to catch him." "No —never mind," answered Bellamy. "I only looked in casually. He's a great friend of mine; we've know each other since we were boys. Great nuisance

not seeing him; it was rather He'll be annoyed too." ' "You haven't told me your name,'' said Clement. "Oh —my name's Bradley," replied the other carelessly. "By the way, I'm a moveable sort of bird, and 1 haven't got an office of my own; could I write a note here? Loader wouldn't mind, I'm sure." "By all means," answered Clement. "Come into t;is room —will you?" Bellamy followed the young man into the inner room, and stood looking about him for a moment or two while he piflled off his gloves. It's a note to someone else; I can just mark out the office address, and I'll post it when Igo out. Very much obliged to you, I'm sure. Loader 'll be dreadfully annoyed that he has missed me. Don't forget my name —Bradley." He sat down at the desk, and pulled a sheet of jwriting-paper towards him; furtively he watched Clemlent. The latter politely went out.of the room, leaving 'him alone.

I And then, as he looked quickly about him, Bellamy fixed his eyes upon something lying on the desk; it was [the key. With his eyes upon the door he picked up the key and looked at it. Then he drew another key from his pocket, and laid it besides the one which Clement had found in Morris Loader's desk. They were of exactly the same shape and pattern. He put the one key back in his pocket, and after a few moments walked out into th# outer office. '' Thank you very much," he said, tapping his breast-pocket as though to indicate that there was the note he had written . '' Saved me a lot of btoher, that has, I can assure you. Remember me kindly to Mr Loader. Name of Bradley. Good morning."

Chapter VIII. THE SPY. Damia Marsh had a fashion, all her own, of obstinately insisting upon a certain thing, and seeing that she got it; that had been her way from childhood. Petted and spoiled all her life, she had found that a careful admixture of smiles and tears was very efficacious. So now, while she stood in the hall of her aunt's cottage, protesting that she could not go back to that hcrrid house, and that she wanted to stay at Lipstone rnd be - quiet for a few days, she had firmly set her y-iil against that of Lady Woodmason, and was determined that she- would win. She knew of no special reason, of course, why the perplexed old lady should want to get her out of the house; she merely-regarded is as a whim .on her aunt's part and a desire not t» be troubled.

"I don't see why I shouldn't stop," she ported, while "yet a heavy trunk was being actually brought into the house. "I'm very lonely, and I've nowhere to go; besides, you did ask me if I wouldn't go back with you on that first day." "Well, I've changed my mind," snapped Ladg Woodmason, turning away and marching off into., the drawing-room.

Damia followed her, and stood, av pathetic enfcugh figure, looking at her with pleading eyes. '' You 're the only relative I've got in the world," she said, "and I'm very fond of you. I love you very dearly, and you're the first person I thought of when I made up my mind to get away from that dreadful house." "Well — yofnr affection appears a.little late," said the old lady sharply. "Also it has taken you a good long time to make up your # mind that you stood so desperately in need bf me. I asked you to come and stay with me in London —not down here."

"But why. shouldn't I stay down here?" persisted the girl. "Because it's not convenient," was the troubled answer. "I may suddenly make up my mind to go back to town at a moment's notice; I'm always doing sudden things like that. In any case, I don't want you hanging after my skirts and worrying me to death." "I won't worry you to death, auntie dear," was the placid answer.' "And I'll just stay here until you say you want to go; and then we'll go back to London together. Can I have my usual room?" Lady Wdodmason suddenly remembered that that was the room that had been assigned to Euth. "No, have your usual room; I'm not sure that you can have a room at all yet," she retorted. "Just stay here a little while; I'll go and see what arrangements can be made."

As a matter of fact. Lady Woodmason went up to the room in which sift* had left Euth, and opened the door and walked in. She saw in a moment, from the expression on the girl's face, that Euth knew what had happened. "Here's a pretty kettle of fish," exclaimed the old lady, as she seated herself. "Damia simply has the run of this place whenever she comes here, and she's certain to find you. I haven't several suites of rooms, and therefore l\,can't shut you away in one wing and hide you. I've blundered badly; I ought never to have brought you away from London. But then, of course, I didn't count Damia in the scheme of things. What are we going to do?" i "Oh, why should I be a worry and a trouble to anybody?" asked Euth bitterly. "You've been very good to me, Lady Woodmason, but after all, I've got my own battle to fight, and I must fight it out to the eml. Just let me creep* away quietly, and go and hide myself somewhere else. That's the simplest thing to do?"

"Nothing of the sort!" exclaimed the other. 'When I've set my hand to anything I don't lightly give in. I said I'll be responsible for you, and I intend to be. Damia has got to go. By whatever means that end is obtained, I say that she has got to do. I have never been coerced by anyone in my life yet, and I'm not going to begin bow. I shall simply tell her to order her car to be brought round; she can pack off back to London. If she likes to go to my house, she can; but she shan't stay here." "She has a right here, I have none," answered Euth. _

"You have the right to be here as long as I care to keep yon," said the old lady as she walked out of the room. - Damia was quietly reading a magazine when her aunt re-entered the drawing-room; she looked up with a smile. "Well, and w,ha\ room am I to have, auntie dear?" she asked. "You're not to have any room at all; .you've got to go back to London," was the reply. "I'm gener-1 ally in the habit of having my own way, and I mean to have it on this occasion. I intend to give orders for your car to be brought r6und; you'll have £o go back to London. ,1 am perfectly willing that you should go to my house and stay there if you like, but I won't have you here." . • "I never knew you behave like this before," pouted Damia, with her eyes beginning to fill with tears. "I shculdif't be in the least in the way. Please»let me slop." ; "I am not in the habit of changing my mind. I' have to go off to the housekeeper's room now, to see the

housekeeper, and I shall give orders about your cut a!F the same time." 'V

She walked out of the room. Damia, Marsh stood for a moment or two thinking deeply; then, with a smile,' she dried her eyes, and set her thumb against the cleclrio bell push. A maid-servant came into the room; ''Lady Woodmason did not tell me which room I was,, to have, but it seems I can't have the usual one. You will know where to put me, I'm sure," she said sweetly to the girl. "Please have my trunk taken upj and I'll come at once." , "Very good, miss," answered the maid. ".Will you come with me now, please?" Lady Woodmason gave instructions concerning the ear, and then returned to the drawing-room. After all, peihaps, she had been a little hard with Damia; she must smooth things over with that young lady. She had been occupied with the housekeeper rather a long time; there had been several matters about which orders had to be given. She found the drawing-room empty. "Now —where on earth has she gone?" she asked herself.

She peeped into other rooms in a perplexed sort of fashion, and presently met the maid whom Damia had spoken to. "Do you know where. Mrs Marsh has gone!" she asked. "She's gone to her room, my lady." ' ', What f'' The scandalised old woman went off upstairs at a great rate, and, the room having been indicated to her, opened the door of it, and marched in. Damia was in bed, propped up daintily among the pillows, and. with a magazine open in her hand. "And pray, what is the meaning of thisf'**-■;'.de-manded Lady Woodmason wrathfully. "I told you that I was going to order your ear, and that you must return to London at once. Now I find you undressed, and m bed." ' \ ■

i "My dear auntie, I wish you would understand that lam not at all fit to travel," said Damia. "The way in which you received me—your coldness and your evident .dislike of me—has upset me very much. I should simply be crying all the way back, and should'not be fit to be left alone. More than that, lam quite certain that before my ear was out of sight you would bitterly regret having sent me off like that, and would long to have me back again with you. Therefore, it is for your sake as much as my own that T have decided to stay." .-.••■■ v.

l .fl command you to get up,"and to go away," said Lady Woodmason, sternly. ."And I simply dare not," answered Damia. And turned" round on her pillows and burst into tears.

That being the most effectual thing she could • dp, the old lady gave up the fight, and retired. She went off to Ruth's room, and reported to her what .had happened. . /■*''

'' Short of lifting her out of bed, and dressing her with violence,:and sending &er off, there's nothing to be done," she said. ?'<At any rate; it leaves yeu free, so far. as she's concerned; and you can go and sit to-morrow out in the grounds; the window of her room doesn't overlook those. You and I will dine in my own special room, where we shan't be disturbed, and where. I can talk to you Without feat,of interruption."

Thus it happened that, without knowing anything, Damia Marsh, inwardly delighted at the idea of having got-the better of her aunt, dined in her room, and slept soundly, and forgot whatever troubles may have been in her mind. She woke to find the sun shining in at her window, and yawned, and stretched herself delicibusly, and then rang her bell. '.','. * (To be continued next Saturday.)