Murder at the Mill House

Taranaki Daily News, 16 November 1935, Page 23 (Supplement)

Murder at the Mill House

By

Francis I. Boyle

CHAPTER NINE (continued).

"Back to the Yard, Jim, and wait for me there. I’ll drive up alone and have a look at the inn and then go on to town. The Royal Highlander leaves Euston at 7.30 p.m., and gets to Aber* deen in 12 hours. Then there’ll be a cross-country journey, Find out about . it, and if it’s not practicable, arrange for an aeroplane at Aberdeen. Find out what you can about that coast. So long.” But at the Belisha Beacon Sanders was told that the landlord was away indefinitely. Nobody knew where. Jim had arranged for an aeroplane at Aberdeen, and after a night in the / train it was wonderfully refreshing, if rather chilly, to soar up in the invigorating morning air of the North Sea. It was not long before the machine had reached its destination, but, flying .in from the sea, there was nothing unusual to be observed. The pilot explained the lay of the land. Drifters were returning to Macduff harbour with the night’s catch, but there was no sign of any unusual vessel. People in the small towns were going about their business in the usual way. They flew inland a little, and theri circled several times around a large hill which the pilot explained was knoWn as the Hill o’ Doune and separated Banff from the adjacent township of Macduff, Cursing Birkett in his heart, Sanders was about to order the pilot to return to Aberdeen with the intention of taking the next train ' to London, when he perceived, through his binoculars, the figure of a. man stretched out in a small hollow half-way down, the hill. The man might be asleep, but then he might not. So much of the unusual had happened in this case that Sanders would not have been surprised to learn that here was yet another murder, Instructing the pilot to return to Aberdeen, there being no landing place locally, Sanders decided to telephone , through from there and have the outstretched figure located. Upon the result, he ■■ would decide to return to London, or .make a cross country trip by road, back to these quiet parts which, according to Birkett’s story, had but recently been the meeting’place of the desperate criminals whom he was trackIng. From the shelter of the woods, David Cameron and Mary Graham watched the aeroplane until it was out of sight, convinced in their hearts that it was sent by their enemies to search them out. Well, it had failed. It showed, however, that Stein was a pretty desperate character, and was determined to recapture them. For that reason they would have to go warily, for all that it was daytime and they were but a few miles from their homes in countryside of which they knew every, inch., “They’re pretty resourceful people, David,” said Mary. "They have that drifter, and a searchlight on it too, and now appear able to charter 'an aeroplane whenever: they want. What Jtind of an organisation do you. thmk we’re up against?” David did not answer. He was looking at Mary, who bad spoken Wearily, Only then did .it occur to him that this girl, whom he loved so well, had beep through experiences recently which few women could face, crowned by a night of exposure and fatigue such as might bowl over the strongest of her sex. So crowded 1 with adventure and suspense had been - the moments since he first found her in the cellar beneath the Mill, that he had barely given pause to think or realisb- what ' she -had? gone'through', uncomplainingly and with strength at least equal-to his Sown. AU'at once there welled up in his heart such an admiration, mixed with love, that for a moment he could' ; find no words, merely gazing at her. “Mary,” he exploded at last. “You’re great. You should bt a man.” Mary did’not appear greatly impressed. She shook her •. head suddenly and replied in the Banffshire, accents of their youth: “That’s nae . compliment. And dinna

start tae blather. 1 wint tae ken fit we’re ga’an tea doe the noo!” David, was about to answer, stopped short. Both young people stiffened like pointing dogs and stood rigid, their ears strained to the utmost.

“You heard, Mary?" whispered David at length. Mary nodded, David saw that she was trembling, and' a new look of fear had come into her eyes. She had braved everything up to now, but in her almost exhausted state could not bear the thought of more imprisonment. It came again. A faint hallooing from the depths of the wood, answered by a similar call from further away.

“Our friends?” she inquired hopefully. “I fear not," answered David. “No Scot or Sawanach ever called like that, Foreigners! They’re beating the woods for us. We’ve left it too late.” Mary’s courage failed her. For the first time in her independent young life she deliberately sought the protection of another; with the very faintest of whimpers she drew close to David, who put his arms about her. “They mus’t catch us again, David,” she said weakly, “They musn’t!” “They won’t,” he answered between set teeth. “Leave it to me.” But in his heart he knew that they would need all their knowledge of woodcraft, all their fleetness of foot, if they were to elude these desperate foreigners who were trailing them like bloodhounds through Montcoffer Woods in the broad light of . day. The woods lay silent this spring morning save for. the ceaseless calls of the birds. From away out tc sea came the sound of a ship’s siren, answered from nearer at hand by the plaintive scream of a gull. The two young people, petrified like wild things in a trap, could literally hear the • thumping of their David thought rapidly. Montcoffer Woods are ever deserted save for lovers adventuring at twilight. They were some distance from the nearest road, and should they decide to make for it, the noise of their progress through the undergrowth would be heard and they would be intercepted. Even if they reached the road safely, it would be quite possible that they would find nobody on the lonely country thoroughfare. And if they stayed where they were, the beaters would soon close in upon them. Help must be obtained somehow, for apart from the need pf protection from their pursuers, neither had eaten for 12 hours, nor, with the exception of a few hours' uneasy doze when first they reached the woods, had they slept. Mary gave every indication of having reached breaking-point, and David was convinced that she could not Stand much more.

■ "There’s only the one thing, lassie,” he whispered at last. “We’ve got to stalk our way towards the road. You remember when we used to play Red Indians over by King Edward Burn? Let’s, do it again. Come on!" He realised now that any form of action was better than standing in this coWed state awaiting recapture. Taking Mary’s hand, he led the way softly out of the little glade towards the undergrowth. And then by some strange freak of chance, the unexpected happened. The calls, which were not repeated, had come from far away, and David reckoned that the beaters were still at some distance. Now, rounding a large bush, they almost walked into one of them.Accustomed to stalking through the woods as children, they had made no noise ’in their approach."' The fellow’s back was towards them as he lit a cigarette, but, with a thrill almost of joy, David recognised him for one of the two cut-throats who had been their captors over on the' braes.

David crouched low., Then, with the strength and fury of desperation, he sprang upon the miscreant before him. The man had no time to cary out. David’s frenzied leap had born him high upon the other’s back,. and a wild thrill of savagery ran through his veins as -his powerful young fingers obtained a strangle-hold on the foreigner’s windpipe.

Taken entirely by surprise, the fellow offered little resistance. Emitting a series of gurgles and 'grunts, he waved his arms wildly. Mary seized one of them and held it tight while David concluded his fell work. Soon he felt the body of i his victim relax, and, David releasing his grip, the man fell unconscious to the. ground. “Hope I haven’t killed him—though he deserved it,” said David. “Ah!” he added. ■ He pointed to a leather holster which protruded from the waist of the recumbent figure. Bending down, he drew' from it a -large service-type revolver. “Now let them try and stop us,” he said grimly. “Let’s get on, Mary!” CHAPTER 10. TO THE RESCUE. “We’re not out of l the wood yet, Mary,” said David Cameron to the girl by his side. “But if anyone does try to stop us, they’ll have to reckon with this.” He pointed to the heavy revolver which he had taken from the foreigner whom he had attacked and left unconscious. David held his heac higher and stepped out with a greater will than before. There is something in the very feel of a weapon of this kind that gives confidence to the bearer, even if, as in this case, he has no experience of firearms. And there still being in man a great deal of the primitive, David realised to the full that he had just overcome a fellow-creature in savage combat, in the defence, and presence of the girl whom he loved. “We’re not far from the road now,” answered Mary. “Do you think, David, it might be better to fire off that thing to attract someone’s help? Guns are not often heard up here.” “What?” he said. “And have the whole gang down on us at once? We don’t know how many our pursuers are, and Stein is a match for ten men. A gun’s a gun, I know, but it’s not much protection against several guns. No, I’ll only use it if we meet one of them, and in that case I’ll use it quick. We must go more quietly now. They may be lurking anywhere. And soon they’ll find that fellow’s body, and will easily trail us from there. Gently, Mary!”? They were working their way now through considerable undergrowth, and the noise pf their progress alarmed the girl. At her suggestion they proceeded more slowly, taking full advantage of every scrap of cover, and at times bending almost double. It was as well they did so, for, her head close to the ground, Mary was able to spy, barely concealed under a gorse bush, the remains of a hurried meal of which somebody had recently partaken in the woods. A tramp, maybe, but more likely their trailers, for there was a considerable amount of foodstuff left over. Famished after their 12 hours’ fast, they fell upon the bread, cheese, and tinned salmon which appeared like manna before them. After several minutes of concentrated eating, they loaded themselves with what was left over and proceeded on thdir way. (To be continued).