CHAPTER VIII.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LIV, Issue 13664, 30 May 1908, Page 6

CHAPTER VIII.

Mr. Chickley in Love.

Mr. Enoch Chickley suddenly found himself extremely busy, or, to übb an old phrase, with his hands very full. Your successful rogue has always that difficulty to contend with; for the simple reason that he ib a rogue he <nnnot live hit* life ordinarily and quietly, liko other people; ho has to mix himself up with all sorts of char-

acters in all sorts of ways. Thus it came about that Mr. Chickley found hinisoli with Arnold Kenway, on the one side, absolutely irreconcilable, and refusing to have anything more to do with him or his schemes; while, on the other hand. Deborah Barlow was for telling tho story broadcast, and shaming her victim then and there. Mr. Enoch Chickley, having a persuasive way about him, managed to convince the desperate woman that more was to be gained by a few hours' delay than by rushing immediately to work. He hoped to get a hold of Arnold Kenway later on ; at the present time he had ,a remembrance of a stern figuz-e striding out of the grounds and declaring that he would never look upon the face of Mr. Chickley again. < '"That's tho wor^t of people, they will rush at things so," he said to himself as he went back to tho Retreat with the prospect of dinner before hini. "Now, what had 1 better do? So far as I personally am concerned I think lam all right in any case. That is to say Enoch Chickley stands to win, from one side or the other ; it's like •throwing up a coin with both sides alike. On the one hand this Deborah Barlow can't hurt me, and she may bo willing to pay for what I can do for her ; on the other side we have Miss Margaret Florris, who has already shown how willing sbjo is to come down handsomely. Chickley, dear boy, all is well with you — for the present, at least." Arnold Kenway did not _ put in an appearance at dinner that night. Owen Matherwick waited, a little impatiently, for" half an hour, and then ordered it to bo served. "What's become of the boy?" he asked Enoch, a little anxiously. "Can't say, dear boy," said Chickley, working away vigorously at his soup. "In a very stra,nge mood to-day; talked about going for a long country walk. I do trust that nothing has upset him." "So do I," replied the other. "Don't you feel a little ashamed of yourself, Chickley when you see the boy?" 1 Mr. Cnickley caused, with his spoon half-way to his lips. "Ashamed, dear boy?" he exclaimed. "Bless my soul, I've never been ashamed of anything yet," "I mean -when you see that lad, who's never put his hand to anything mean or common in his life, I'll ,be sworn; who, despite all his misfortunes, has played the game squarely. Doesn't that make you sorry for something you've missed, ChiekleyP" "No, I can't say it does." said Chickley, resuming his soup. "Because, you see, dear boy" — -he chuckled immensely at the thought of that particular side of the question — "he has missed such a lot too, hasn't he? What a wonderful cook you have, to be sure!" The evening wore away, and still there was no sign of Arnold. Matherwiok began to get more anxious ; first, because there seemed to bo no reason for Arnold's absence; secondly, because ho had a lurking suspicion concerning tho young man — not- for- any definito reason, but because it had been a part of his life to suspect everyone with whom he came in contact. Mr. Chickley had smoked several cigars, and had dozed off, with murmurings and gurglings, in a doop chair, and was fast asleep, ',wl\en a quick step sounded in tho hall, and Arnold Kenway came in. Matherwick was standing] at a sideboard, mixing himself a whisky and soda;- he looked round | quickly at the in the doorway. He saw that^ Ken-way's face was bag■giard *aad wdravtii, and that the vbimg man had:' not even troubled' to change his clothfas. Ho must have been Walking . through dusty, miry places, too, from the appearance of his boots. (To be continued.)