A Friendless Millionaire

Taranaki Daily News, 16 August 1933, Page 11

A Friendless Millionaire

(By

H. Lawrence Phillips)

CHAPTER XIH.— (Continued.) He was struggling to sit up. and T helped him to rise to a sitting position, and William poured some spirits Into a cup and held it to his lips. As he bent over I saw that he had received a tremendous, blow on the back of his head, and that there was a great gash exposing the skull bone. I did not call the attention of the others to this, nor remark upon It to Benton. Just now I was anxious to get back to the house; explanations must wait.

. Revived by the stimulant, he began to struggle to his feet, William and I 'helping him.'. ‘ “Can you manage to ?get to the house?” I asked. “Perhaps if you put an arm around my neck and one around Ranger’s / you could do It."

“I’ll try,” he answered weakly. ■ I called Una, and as we bent on : elther side of the mate to allow him to take hold, told her to walk In front and shoot at the smallest breath of suspicion. So holding Benton with one hand, and grasping the rifles with the other, we began our journey. Every step must have caused bitter pain. I could see from his white face and strained, look how great the effort •was, and at how great cost, every yard was gained. At last human nature could endure no more, and he fainted .again, and If I had not flung down my rifle and used both hands to him, he would have slipped to the ground. "Drop ' your rifle, William, join hands, and get him balanced on them ?and off the ground. That’s right; now the other.”

We got oil In this manner for «. few more yards, and then he began slipping again. "There's only one thing for It: help me hoist him over my shoulder,” I said, “and I will carry him the rest of the way.’’

Fortunately the mate was of wiry build, and I managed to get into the •house with my load, but If he had been a stone heavier I could not have done it. Ranger helped me lay him on the couch, and we gave him another dose of the stimulant.

This began to take effect again, and we saw signs of returning consciousness.

“We must get bls- head bandaged somehow," I said, and pointed to the ■wound.-

“I could manage that if we had some .linen,” offered Una? ' . - "That can . be. managed. William, get something from among .my things." . “There is a medicine'chest In one room, sir.’ “Then get It, and quickly. Now, Una,” I directed when he returned, "get to work. William vrill fetch you some water in a basin from the filter.” I marvelled at the deftness and skill that the girl displayed, but had to leave her to look after the job alone, while I gave some further orders to William. . . “Come with me, and we will eearch the house. We will fasten this door first, though.” “Walt a minute until I finish my bandaging. I shan’t be able to see else.”

The Indispensable William disappeared without a word, and came back with a lamp; in the same silent manner, In obedience to a nod from me, he closed the door and made it fast. “Now we can make a thorough search Keep your revolver handy,” I said to the girl. I had an idea that the cook mighthave doubled, back and concealed himself in the house, but, though we made •search of every nook and cranny, there was no sign of anyone. Wherever our enemies were, they were outside. When we returned w&- found that Una had finished her Job, and the mate’s head was neatly bandaged. I congratulated her. “That’s excellent. He seems more comfortable, and looks now as if he were sleeping." “I think he is, and will be the better for It.”

• “But It’S' very awkward. I hoped that he could have thrown soma light upon matters, and suggested some plan for getting away. Now we have a sick ■man on our hands, and Instead of a help, we have an additional burden. It’s very unfortunate.” I spoke with some Irritation, for my nerves were getting rather frayed, but I spoke in low tones, to avoid disturbing Benton. We seemed to be rendered more and more helpless. I was .confident that our only chance ol safety lay In getting away from the house, and that evtsry moment we lingered there Increased danger. But what could we do? I could have groaned aloud. We seemed like 'prisoners bound to the block waiting, the- executioner’s stroke. It was getting on for six o’clock, and darkness would be coming on, rendering'move;ment more and more difficult. • “What can we do?” I asked aloud. “I know what I should like to do.” answered Una briskly, "and that is to have a cup of tea.” • “I have the kettle on the oil stove, ■miss," William announced with due gravity. ■This ■ anticlimax to my gloomy thoughts was bo complete that I was .forced to laugh. Here we were with goodness knows what horrors before us calmly discussing tealRanger departed to make It, and Una declared that he was an invaluable man and always knew what was wanted and how to get it, while I declared that she would eat us out of house and home, and added that she had better make a good meal, for T was not certain of what would happen next. “It seems to me that daddy had better hurry up,” she said, as she sipped her tea and munched biscuits. Ranger- and I (for I had insisted upon his joining us at the meal) looked at her in surprise. “Hurrv up where?” I exclaimed. “Why.’ to get here, of course,” she replied/ helping herself to more biscuits in an' Unconcerned sort of manner. ".Why should you think that he will be coming here? Have you any rea-son?”-1 asked eagerly. . I “Plenty .of reasons. When dau '■ finds I -am missing- he’ll, organise a i hunt, and probably get hold ■of the I French gunboat to help in thejsearch ■ ■ for his missing lamb, and. of course, I after they'have tried out the smaller ’islands near us, they will try Moa I Tao on the chance of niy having been

driven ashore here.” "Please God It may be so, M I said reverently. This was the first gleam of hope that I had had for some days. She nodded. “I think that you may bet your noxlom dollar upon his turning up some time or other. If the gunboat Isn’t ibout he’ll cross In our big whaler.’ It’s only fifty miles or so. But, of course, It will take them some time searching nearer home. That's why we had better refuse to stir from here.” “I am sure that we had better get away if possible,” I said doggedly, and I was surprised to hear a faint voice say—- " Get away as soon as you can, Mr Norrlsh; every moment is of value." It was Benton who spoke, and I rose and went towards him to Inquire how he felt. I could see that he was in a high f ever, and nigh to a bad collapse, and that. I feared, might be fatal. So I bade him keep quiet and try and sleep again. “No, no," he cried faintly, but with a feverish energy. "I am a done man, and you .must listen to what I have to tell you, and then make your escape, If it is not too late.” Ranger and Una.joined me at hla side, and Una put a cup of tea to his poor parched Ups. I could see the tears of pity gathering in her eyes. “Thank you, my dear. You must keep me going till I tell my story, and I am not sure that I can finish it." • , I added a little brandy to the tea and let him sip it. Important as it tvas that he should speak, it seemed cruelty to allow him to do so in his present condition. I told him to lie still, and tell us later. "Latet'?’’ he repeated with something of bitterness. "I tell you I’m done, and as good as dead. But I couldn’t rest in my grave unless. I tried to undo some of the evil of my ■ life, though God knows into* how much of It I have been driven. Listen, Mr Norrlsh, and let me speak. Don't Interrupt but to keep, me going." I feared that further opposition would do more harm than good, and let him have his way. We propped him up as well as we could, and from time to time gave him the stimulant 'for which his weak hand, groped. It was a strange scene, lit by the lamp which, threw a great part of the room In shade. Outside, the daylight, we knew, still lingered: but the shuttered windows and barred doors excluded all light, as it shut out all sound. The silence was profound, broken' only by the feeble whisper of Benton’s voice as he told his story, or the uneasy stirring of Una at someof its passages. The tale was (disjointed enough, for now and then there was a touch of delirium, and I thought that we should not hear the end; but the grim determination of the man prevailed, and he ended. Briefly the story he told ran thus:—■ Some fifteen years before, when quite a young man, he became involv- ’ ed in some transaction the knowlege of which came into the possession of Holmes or Judwood (as I must call him). What It was he did not tell us. but from what he said I judged ■itto be a hanging matter. Using this knowledge, Judwood made him his agent in many an unlawful deed; among other things-, in combination with Martel (over Whom he had a similar pull), they were guilty of . smuggling rifles, for which the natives paid high prices. Placed In such thraldom, and naturally of a careless disposition, Benton became more end more Involved, and provided the gain was there, was indifferent to the criminality or otherwise of his actions, and went from bad to worse. Some months before this Judwood had sailed to Sydney with them, intending to go to England on business. Re was landed there and went to an hotel to wait for his boat. To their great surprise he returned next day, and called both Martel and Benton into the cabin. He seemed In a strangely excited condition, and took great care that the cabin doors and windows should be closed before he spoke. "Would you two like to earn ten thousand pounds apiece?” he demanded abruptly. They looked at him with amazement, and Martel, who had already begun his usual way of amusing himself when in port, laughed muzzily, saying —■ ■ “What’s the game now?” “It’s no game,- but downright earnest; you two can earn ten thousand apiece with a little pluck and a little luck.”

■Benton inquired details. His cupidity as x well as that of the skipper was aroused; if the money could be earned he was not squeamish as to the means. It meant the fortune he-had been seeking, and more than that, freedom from his slavery.' His eagerness was apparent to Holmes, who saw Martel's bemused condition, and knew that the keener wits lay with Benton. So he'turned tn him. “Read that,” he said briefly, as he spread before him a copy of the paper I had come across in Ceylon, and in which the details of Haytor’s will were given.

The mate glanced at the page and rapidly scanned the account with the flaring cross-headings. . “What about it?” lie asked.

“There’s all this about it,” retorted Holmes: “I’m Mark Judwood, and a millionaire if this swine of a young bank clerk dies before thirty. And,” he said, as he lowered his voice ahd looked straight at the mate, “if such an event should happen, I’m game to pay ten thousand to the man who can help forward his decease.” I have said that by this time Benton had ehed all his early scruples, and his hands were not freed from blood But that of the past had al) been in the hot passion of a. moment, and in the rough places of the world in which his lot had been cast it was a. question of his life or that of the other man: this was different. It was a calm planning of the death of an unsuspecting individual, and he didn’t like it, and showed it. “You needn’t be afraid, man, there’!! be no danger—-not so much for you as there, will be if you don’t choose

to help.” The mate realised the underlying menace of Holmes’ words. The old threat that had driven him against his will into crime was made again, and with his desire for the money driving him his repugnance was overcome, and’he consented to join in the scheme which Holmes outlined. Martel had no scruples, so the tempter succeeded in enlisting both. (To be