RED FOR DANGER

Taranaki Daily News, 21 January 1935, Page 13

RED FOR DANGER

By

LINDSAY HAMILTON

(Author of “The Gorgon,” “The Black Asp,” etc.)

CHAPTER 22 (continued.) But the blow never fell, for Sinistersuddenly drew back and concealed tiie knife, and at the same instant someone hailed them from the line. “Ayone hurt there?” It was the guard of the train. Timothy collected his scattered wits, got to his feet, and surveyed the scene of disaster. \ Some distance ahead the train had pulled up. Splintered fragments of the gates lay scattered all about the line. And there was something else, a shapeless, bloddy heap, a Chauffeur’s cap, and near it a trunkless head. Down the embankment, oh the left, a group of men were lifting someone or something from the mangled wreckage of Lord Medway’s car. Timothy turned away with a sicke ness in the pit of his stomach. CHAPTER 23. PURSUED. There was no doubt in Timothy’s mind, but he went over to the guard and forced himself to ask: "Lord Medway, is he—?” “Him in the car? Can’t say,” said the gya-rri. “There’s a doctor with him. They’re putting them on the train. I’m just going to telephone for an ambulance to meet us at Cambridge.” “I’ll come, too,” said Timothy, anxious to postpone knowledge of the worst if only for a. few moments. The guard looked ashy pale and his eyes glittered unnaturally. He burst out suddenly into an uncontrolled volley of oaths, finishing up With; “Where’s that—crossing man? What the hell’s he doing?” That point was one that was settled as soon as they entered the lodge. The man, whose duty it was to open and close the gates, lay Sprawled across the table, apparently asldep. It was too much for the guard in his overwrought condition. He got the man by the hair and shook his savagely. “Sleep,” he bawled at him. “Go on sleep, you lousy idle scum. God, if I had my way I’d tear the heart out of you. Go on, take another nap while some other poor devils get cut to mincemeat.” , .

The man gave a feeble petulant groan and slept on.” . ( , “Steady,” said Timothy quietly. He s either ill or—” he took a cigarette stump from the man’s inert fingers. “I’ll take it. It may be the means of clearing him ” When the guard had finished his telephoning, a woman came in. It proved to be the lodgo-keeper’s wife who had returned earlier than she had expected from shopping. , They left her in charge and returned to the train. And then Timothy learnt that Lord Medway, however seriously injured he might be, was at all events not dead. It was bad enough, but the news might have been infinitely worse. If he lived then he would owe -hi If he lived then he would owe his life to one of those strange freaks of chance that sometimes happen. The whole front of the car had been sheared clean away, and the rear portion, with Lord Medway in it, had been hurled bodily down the embankment into the ditch. At Cambridfi there was -an ambulance waiting. Timothy took a taxi and accompanied it to Addenbrooks Hospital, where he waited in suspense for the best part of an hour. By good luck one of the young medicos attached to the hospital turnedout to be an old rugger acquaintance. Timothy buttonholed him at once, and besought him to get him authentic information as soon as ever it was possible. In meantime he telephoned to Sylvia Medway Then he got on to Colonel Clinker in the hope of hearing news of Jill. But Colonel Clinker had nothing to tell. He was watching the clock ready to put Jill’s’ instructions into effect the moment the allotted time was up. That was bad; about as bad as it the young medico, returned. “It might have been worse,” he observed cheerfully. “He’s badly cut and a couple of ribs broken. There doesnt seem to be internal injury.” Timothy was mightily relieved. “He’ll pull through, you think? “Can’t- say. It’s the shock that does it in these cases. He’s not young.” There was nothing now to hold Timothy back. He went to the window and looked Out Yes, they were out there —he half expected it—the same big saloon was standing in the road, waiting—for what? News of their success, or for him? . . i Timothy decided on an impulse to take Bellamy partly into his confidence. He called him over and pointed ddwn. "You see that saloon out there . . • the same crowd who tried to do Lord Medway in. I’m not romancing, man; it was cold-blooded murder. They re laying for me. I can’t tell you wfe; you’ve got to take my word for it. bo long as you do something useful it doesn’t matter two hoots what you think afterwards. Only do it, thats all. I want a car, a fast one, and I wantwour help to get out of here with a clear start fdr London. Can ydu do it? . . . What’s the roadster down in the drive. Looks like Lagonda Sports to me. Whose Bellamy was a young man of zest and enthusiasm. If there was any chance of excitement he was not going to miss

“That belongs to Rake. Fast? I should say it is.” His eyes glistened. 11l tell you what Suppose I ask Rake if I can J-e it—he won’t be wanting it for hours yet—and I’ll hop old Bate Son and run i0 ‘‘Stout fellow,” applauded Timothy. “If he says no, I’ll have to pinch it. But there was no need, for Bellamy returned with a satisfactory answer. If the truth were told Rake was under the impression that Bellamy had an urgent local call to make. Bellamy then conducts' Timothy to the rear of the hospital, and through the grounds to a door which opened on to a narrow street. „ “They may be keeping a look-out, said Timothy. “I’ll wait on this side till I hoar you come along with the car. See that there’s enough petrol, by the W “Leave it all to papa,” answered Bellamy. “I’H hoot O.K. as I come along. You know your Morse, I suppose.”

Five minutes passed before the purr of the car and six blasts on the horn announced that Bellamy had arrived. The car was there certainly, and Bellamy in it, but he was looking glum. “Foul luck,” he exclaimed bitterly. “I can’t come. I ran into old Bateson." “Out you come, then,” Timothy ordered unceremoniously. “Tell your friend Rake I’ve pinched his car. Sorry and all that, but—” He was already in the driver’s seat. “I’ll send a man back with it as soon aS I reach Town. Cheerio! You’re a sportsman, Bellamy.” He let in the clutch and slid away. His quickest route would take him into the main London road within sight of the waiting saloon, but he decided to risk it. There was quite a good chance of getting away unrecognised. That hope was soon dashed, however. They had a man posted at the comer, and already he was signalling back to his companions. Timothy swung the Lagonda into the London road, and stepped hard on the accelerator. Bellamy had not exaggerated. The car was all that he could have wished. He grinned contentedly. If there was to be a race he cOuld at least hold his own and set a killing pace. Possibly that powerful saloon could do eighty on the straight. He could hardly expect more from the Lagonda. Suppose they got near enough to shoot his tyres to ribbons? The only sensible plan, he decided, was to try and throw his pursuers off the track. If, instead of driving straight on from Trumpington, he branched off to Royston, the ruse might work—provided he kept his present lead. Butt that was a well-known alternative route. It would be far better to slow down, let them see him choose the main London road at the fork. They would take it for granted that he had no other thought but to keep ahead in the race. Six miles further on there was a by-road cutting across at right-angles that would suit his purpose very well. But to succeed, he would have to increase his lead to nearly half a mile, by no means a light undertaking. As he had surmised the big saloon was capable of a speed at least equal to that of the Lagonda. It crept up to within two hundred yards as Timothy shot through Trumpington. Then he stepped on the accelerator and for that six miles he drove like a man possessed. Fortunately the road was clear. Luck was with him. Twice he skidded badly round comers, and only by a miracle of luck regained control. One long sweeping comer he took at such a pace that it was almost more than he could do to hold the car to the road. The front mudguard scraped a buttress which stood out from the wall. When he turned off the main road two miles past Sawstori the saloon was nowhere in sight. The by-road brought him out on the main Royston to London route. He slacked off now to a more moderate speed. When ten minutes had passed and there ‘was still no sign of the big saloon, Timothy was satisfied that he had shaken his pursuers off <he track, CHAPTER 24. HENNESSEY LAYS* TRACKS. Mr. Carter of ‘the Planet’ had made it a rule of his daily life that between the hours of four and four-thirty ‘the Planet must get on as best it could without In a nearby tea-shop he would partake of strong tea, buttered ‘toast, and oatmeal biscuits. A table in one corner was his by right of custom. But this afternoon a stranger was in occupation. A thoroughly unpleasantlooking customer, thought Cartdr irritably. Hennessey—for it was he—would not have been flattered, for at the moment he was doing his best to twist his saturnine features into the semblance of a genial smile. “Mr. Carter of ‘the Planet’?” he inquired, rising. “I am,” said Carter stonily. . Youve got my table.” “Miss Tempest said I should catch you here. My name is Clinker, by the way, Colonel Clinker.” That altered the situation. Carter liked the man no better, but at all events he had a legitimate reason for being here. “Sit down,” he invited, and himseTJ took, a seat. “How is she?”

“I haven’t seen her since morning,” said Hennessey, and dropped his voice to a confidential whisper. “She gave me to understand that she was setting out on a very dangerous mission. IF she didn’t return or get word through to me I was to carry out certain detailed instructions.”

“Oh! and. hasn’t she turned up?” said Carter sharply. “If she had I shouldn’t be here. What she told to do was this: To find you personally and accompany you back to your office. And there we are to open a sealed packet she left with'you three days ago, and read it. I carry with me a second document connecting and enlarging upon the first. We read that too, and then decide what course of action to take. I may be exaggerating the importance of the whole thing, but I dont think so. Anyhow, we shall soon see.” The suggestion was unusual, but Carter could see no reason for refusing to carry it out. “Well, I want my tea first,” he said coldly. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait.” Nothing short o' an earthquake would have driven Carter from his tea and toast. But he cut his usual half an hour down to twenty minutes. If Jill had known this concession was made only out of concern for her, she would have felt highly flattered. As thy entered ‘the Planet’ buildings two men followed them in, unnoticed by Carter. The uniformed. Cerberus below, believing they were a party of three accompanying Mr. Carter, let them pass without a second glance. Thereafter the two dropped back to a safer distance. Carter offered his visitor a chair and told his secretary to get the required packet from the pafe. The secretary placed it between them on the table. Hennessey produced his packet and laid it beside the Other. “Now,” he exclaimed in a loud hearty voice, “We’ll see what it’s all about. Read’ it!” (To be continued.)