"STAR" TALES.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 9211, 14 April 1908, Page 4

"STAR" TALES.

THE SCALES OF JUSTICE. (By BUED. M. WHITE.) [All Rights Reserved.] craAPTmTxvni. THE SCENT OF DANGER. There lay the great Mercedes, as if It had broken down, and been abandoned for the present. But there wa*» no sign, so far as Gilbert could see, ol Anything wrong. Was it possible that these men were after no good hero, that, they had some evil scheme on foot? But predatory characters, as a rule, do not parade the country in motor-care that cost a couple of thousand pounds. There must be 6ome ibettor explanation than that. Nevertheless, the car seemed to be all right, and had been hidden by men who knew the wood better than they pretended.

Still, it was no business of Gilbert's. {There was the pony grazing by the roadside. Gilbert /found the end of the Toad, and led the docile little- beast into the spinney. It wae not far to the place where Marston lay, but the ground had begun to be roughj and Gilbert decided to tie up the pony here and carry the poacher to it. He fastened the animal to a tree, and placed Ihe lantern by the side, taking care to push tile dark-slide in again. There seemed nothing to fear now, so Gilbert pushed on boldly. Then suddenly a figure gripped him by the throat ; Giljbert was carried fiercely backwards, ,»nd only a tree-stem saved him from Complete collapse. So utterly surprised was he, he showed no fight for a minute. But he knew that his assailant was big and fltrong and powerful, and that the Jolntch on his throat was murderous in Its intensity. "So I've got a hold of you," a biasing voice said. "You thought to trap in© here like that. It was a pretty Bcheme of yours, but I saw through it. "I'll kill you before the other one conies up and then I'll kill him, too." Gilbert eaid nothing ; he was keeping Ilis strength for a final effort. He was far weaker than he had imagined, and lie iwonld need 'all his strength presently. That the man meant to kill him he did not doubt. He would have tried to explain the mistake but for. two things— the grip on his throat choked ihe words in the utterance, and he was Irondenng, in a dazed way, where he (had heard that voice^ before. It came to him like an inspiration, like the flltwnination of danger in a lightning flash. ■ .■_■ The mysterious doctor ; the man on V»ard the steamer who had schemed to «et Gilbert into all the trouble that tad fallen np»n him I He recognised the voice distinctly ; he knew his mur- , tteroiw foe to be Dr Beard, under whose roof he had passed the night befoTe: The fact ,that Beard had mis- j taken him for somebody else did not ; lessen the danger. Even if Beard knew that he was attacking the wrong man, he would want to see the face of ■his foe. That would be equally fatal. To go back to Greystone was jv™* than death itself. And that vrcnlp be the upshot of the discovery of his idenThere was nothing for it but to •truefcle and fieht on to the end, m the faint hot>e that some stroke of fortune would intervene in favour of tne weaker man. Not that there was much Wnce of anything of tbo sort, Gilbert thonjrht bitterly. Cruel Fate was dogging liff footsteps again, and everything was going against him. The world began to dance and reel ■before hie eyes; there were stars everywhere, for Beard's grip on the throat of his foe was like a vice; there was no/ shadow of doubt as to Jus intention. Just for a moment Colbert managed to shift that grip and call tor ielp.^lt was possible that Mareton might come to his assistance. v # The •' shout was not uttered in vain. Quick as a hare as to his hearing, Marston had detected the sounds of a •truggle. When the ory for help came fee realised that his new ally was m 'trouble. A stray keeper, probably. With a great effort, Mansion managed ;to drag himself along the ground in the i direction of the fray. Long nights in the darkness had given him eyes like a cat's. He came sufficiently near to gee what was taking place. He could make out the powerful form of Bernard 'Beard and the slender figure of Gilbert Doyle. He had an idea, too, that the doctor was unconscious of his opponent's identity. But Marston did not wait to discuss Ihe point. Taking a thick stick from fche sodden moss, he crept behind Beard, md dealt him a heavy blow on the' bead. The big man reeled, and as \da grip relaxed, Gilbert wriggled under bis arm, and darted into the bushes. : The latter had not lost his nerve. He did not go far, for he felt the thick bushes and the darkness made him as safe as if he were a mile away. Berides, he wanted to await developments and, in any case, could not abandon. JMarston. Board fell with a heavy grunt, and lield "iiis aching head in both hands. ' (For a moment he could not realise what tad happened. Marston' s low chuckle brought him to his sense.4. He staggered to his feet with a savage growl. "Bid you hit me?" he asked. " Was it you who stopped me just now w }^ » "Of course, it was," Mareton said coolly. "I couldn't sit there and Watch murder done. I don't mind ] idying— in fact, I shall be glad to die j when the time comes— but I have the greatest possible objection to capital punishment, and you ought to be much obliged to me for saving you from ihe, worst crime." "Whereas I look upon you as a meddleeome fooll" Beard snarled. "Do son know who that fellow was? He

was one of the Virginians. They lured me here by one of the most wickedly ingenious plots &vex hatched in the 1 brain of an arch-scoundrel. But that did not deceive me. I laid my plans to get the better of them. And when , they separated I followed one of them, with the result that you saw. And now your foolish meddling " Nothing of the kind," Marston interrupted curtly. "You have barked up the wrong tree, as they say m America. You've got Virginians on the brain. It was no foreigner you t^ied to choke to death, but a friend of mine, who came to take me home. I'm suffering from a pretty bad attack now, and I had to send for assistance. Can't you hear my pony close by?" Beard growled something about being mistaken. So far the conversation conveyed little to Doyle, who sat listening in the bushes. The only point he could make out was that Beard seemed to know something about the Americans and the motor-cap; or why did he speak of Virginians? There seemed to be a connection between the j two. , v , i " Well, I'm sorry," Beard muttered. "I don't want a murder on my conscience if I can help it; and I certainly took your friend for one of those two. I tell you, they are here; I have sure information on that point./ I was so startled by it that I had to put off a little surprise I had prepared for the authorities at Greystone." • 1 ' I £now," i Marston nodded. You were going to hand the escaped convict over to them. Do you know where he

"Far enough away by. this time, 1 expect," Beard said moodily. " Why, the fellow was actually in my house. . "Gilbert Doyle in your house I Sounds dramatic, dofesn't it? " How on earth, did you know wno the convict was?" Beard asked, in some surprise. " Well-, you do know it, and there is an end of the matter. But I'm not worrying about Doyle at present. He can do no harm, and most, of his spare time will be taken up in dodging the police. A man may get away from prison, he may have powerful friends, but he can't keep free for l OT Kr_ a t least, if he stays in this country. And if Doyle does not stay here, he cannot be the smallest trouble to me. Pah! I dismiss him altogether. Beard waved his hand contemptuously. Marston said nothing, co he went on again. " But those Virginians are quite another matter. They have found me out, as they were bound to do sooner or later. And my hands are tied. I can do nothing so long as they don t resort to personal violence. If I were to tell the police they would only laugh at me. All I have to do is to watch and wait my time. I thought that I was hastening one of them out of the way to-night, but it seems that I was mistaken." '

"You are sure that they nave lett Paris?" Marston asked. "Oh, I'm quite certain about that! I went into Castleford directly I received your letter, and used the cable I' to Paris freely. Cost me £10 to find out all I wanted. , But they left Paris for London. After that I can tell you nothing, except that they lured me hereabouts. I guessed what the game was, and did a bit of tracking on my own. And, seeing that you are m thie tiling almost as deeply as I am, I shall be glad of your assistance." j { There was a menace in the speaker s tones, but the implied threat did not seem, to have any effect on . Marston, so lar as Gilbert Doyle could gather. He merely growled,, and said he was not in a fit state ; , to do any business that night. " You clear out and let me go home, he said. "When, you have- gone I shall be able to call my poor assistant back. He'll be too frightened to show up till you're gone. ' And don t you cry out till you're hurt in future.' "But I nearly got hurt;" said Beard. "I saw one of the Virginians and he saw me. I I was not quite so cautious as I might have been. I expect one of the fellows spotted me by my size. Anyway, •we had a struggle. When I heard the other one running up I broke away, but not before I had torn my man's coat off his back. One doesn't imagine things like that." ■..-"'' ... "Perhaps not/ Marston replied. "We'll talk the matter over some other time. I'm so racked with pam that I can't follow you. Good-night. i Beard muttered something and went 1 off into the darkness. Five m«™tf elapsed before Marston gave a little whistle and Gilbert Doyle emerged from the bushes. „ " That wa3 a narrow shave for you, the poacher said. " Fancy being tackled !by the very last man you expect to see. It's a good thing I gave Beard that crack on the head." "Yes; I was pretty nearly done," Gilbert admitted. "If Beard had not spoken first I should probably have betrayed my identity by calling for assistance. But I recognised those tones. The last time I heard them was on board ship, coming from So u ™ America. Our friend called himself Dr something— the name I forget, it I had never met him, I should not be here to-night. If I could only get to the bottom of that scoundrels "scheme . " , , "Patience, and you'll get to the bottom of it in time," Marston said. ' The stars are fighting on your Bide now. Fortune has been against you, but she is going to smile again. Do you know that by your kindness to-night to me, a perfect stranger, you have enlisted as a friend the one man who can right everything? I have known Bernard Beard for years. I may as well admit it at once— l have shared his rascally schemes. When he came to live down here, I followed. My disease prevented my getting a living in the. old way, and I wanted to be near Beard, with a ! view to blackmailing him if I needed 1 money. As a matter of fact, I have i not yet had occasion to do anything of I the kind, though I have been pretty i near it once or twice. As it is, lam going to help you." "To clear my character?" Gilbert said eagerly.' "To set myself right before the world?" "Yes, yes; but it will take time. We have a clever man to deal with,

how clever you will never know. Now, hoist me on the pony." Marston was hoisted tip with difficulty, and "the pilgrimage through i;he woods began. Gilbert M-aa surprised to hear a clock somewhere strike ten. It was less than an hour since he ihad 6et out on his errand, and it seemed ages ago. "You'll be in time to keep your ap^ pointment with Miss Cameron yet," Marston said, almost in a state of collapse. "And now, don't ask a lot t>f curious questions about the Virginians. Of course you were close by and heard !what was said. You have perhaps heard of the Corsioan vendetta. Well, there is another kind of vendetta out yonder in the Southern States that goes farther than anything the Corsican mind has ever thought of, and that you shall hear about in time."

Gilbert Doyle asked no further questions.. Besides it was cruel to bother a man so near death as Marston was. He clung to the neck of the pony, his face white and damp with the pain he suffered. Gilbert slipped the slide of the lantern round, so that he could pick out even places in the ride for the pony to walk on. He came tc the spot where the motor-oar had been pushed into the ditch, 1 he flashed the lantern for a second on that spot. The powerful Mercedes was no longer to be seen. __

Still Gilbert said nothing. He was going to keep this information to himself. After all> he had no kind of guarantee of Mansion's good faith. The man, on his own confession, had been a scoundrel. A little farther, and the grass was trampled down ; it was evidently the scene of Beard's first struggle. Something bright on the grass caught Gilbert's eye. As the pony paesed along he stopped and examined the shining diec in the light of the lantern. Then he whistled softly to himfielf as he pocketed the metal. " I think this may be useful to me," he muttered. f "At. any rate, it is a clue to go by." The shining disc of metal wa6 an American twenty-dollar gold piece! (To be continued next Monday.)