“THE TURN OF THE TIDE.”

Star (Christchurch), Issue 17193, 9 November 1923, Page 10

“ THE TURN OF THE TIDE.”

OUR SERIAL.

By

FRED M. WHITE.

CHAPTER XI. I AX UNEXPECTED GUEST. j Croot had dined comfortably and well, as befitted a man who is in the enjoyment of perfect health ami moreover, rejoic*e« in a clean conscience. It was on the night following the inquiry into the death of Bill Avory, and he, together with Vera and Maj-k Gilmour, was seated at the dinirig table at the Moat House. It was rather a quiet meal, for Vera seemed to be engrossed in her own thoughts, and Gilmour had not forgotten the pregnant conversation which he had had with her at their last meeting. Ho was doing his best not to show this, and some of his humorous remarks seemed to Vera to be rather forced. Besides, she wanted to get away into the drawing room, where an engrossing book awaited her. “'Von won’t mind roy leaving you?” she said presently. “ 1 don t feel like talking to-night.” “A little music, perhaps?” Gilmour suggested. “ Still less do I feel like music,” Vera replied. “ I am in a reading mood, and I don’t want to he disturbed. Besides, 1 know you will have j a great deal to talk about. So, if you are not staying here this evening, Mr Gilmour. I will wish you good night. *• Good night,” Gilmour said a little mpodily. “As a matter of fact. I am not staying. I must catch the last train, and L hope you will get. all the i enjoyment you expect out of your book. ” Croot smiled not unpleasantly to himself as the door closed behind A era, an.d he and Gilmour were alone. “ It is no use,” he said. “ 1 told you it was no use. If you are the wise man 1 tako you to be, Mark, you will put Vera out of your mind altogether. Unless I am mistaken, things are not going any too well at present, and it will take all that cleverness of yours to put matters right again.” Gilmour crossed over to the door and peeped out into the hall. Then he came back to the table again and poured himself out a glass of port. The cloth had been removed, and there was nothing on the polished mahogony now except decanters and glasses and a large silver box containing the cigarettes. j “ Just as well to be careful,” Gilmour said. “I don’t want any ser- j rants listening at the door. And now | that we are alone together, with no; chance of interruption, I can speak > freely. Things are not going any too ( well. To begin with, those people 1 in Tndia are very dissatisfied with the last lot of champagne we sent them. They say that the brand is nothing like* as good as they had the right to expect. They even hint that the cases have been chanced.” “Qh, they do, do they?” Croot muttered- “ Yes, and I am not sure that they are wrong. Now, obviously we don’t want a lot of correspondence about it. In our dealings with the stuff we pick up on the river, the thing we have most to dread is an inquiry. Tf that sort of thing is once set on foot, then we might fin dourselves face to face with actual shippers. You know what that means, of course.” Croot nodded gravely He knew only too well what trouble lay behind a set of searching questions. “ Very well.” he said. “It will cost us a good deal of money, but you had better get the same number of cases of the real wine, and ship them out at once. Tell our people in Calcutta to sell the other stuff for any price they can get for it. Coble them that the genuine goods are on their way. and sav that the whole mistake arose through the stupidity of an invoice clerk. Tt will moan a dead loss, but wc can’t take anv risks.” “Well, as a matter of fact 1 have already done so.” Gilmour said. ‘ Another matter- The afternoon p-ist brought a letter from your Argentine dealers asking us to send them a further large consignment of those Smyrna carnets. That is one of the biggest hauls we ever made, and put at least twenty thousand pounds into our pockets, because the stuff costing ns nothing the cheque resulting was pure gain. And now those chaps want some more. T must write and tell them that we can’t get them, for that would only make them suspicious. We must manage to send them somehow. Now what do you suggest?” “ There is only one thing to do.” Croot muttered. “We shall have to buy a big consignment of Smyrna carpets through Verity's in the ordinary way of business, and ship them out to the Argentine at our own expense, because we should never he able to offer tlie stuff at the same price as we did before. Nor can we refuse to do business. Upon my word. Gilmour, I almost begin to wish that I hadn't touched this thing. T have a great mind to cut it altogether and retire on what I have made. Not that I run any risk.” “ Yes. you took good care of that, didn’t you?” Gilmour sneered. “Ami why not?” • Croot demanded. money that bought Verity » rotten nusiiicss, ana sj brougnt Crombie s \vharl into my nanas, without wiiitn you absolutely ou your beam eiius, thrown out ui the Navy, having been I°'put l yuu° on your ’ iou arc running a certain amount of risk, a is true, nut ii you haven't made a ioul of yourself, you ought to be worth thirty thousand pounds at the present •*Uii, that's all right,” Gilmour said, snowing his teeim unpleasantly. •t>uL it any wiling happens x go down, and Mortimer Grout, inquire, oi the .Moat House, Cray, walks about with his head in the air, envied and respected by all who know him. He will ted everybody liow shocked he was to iiml Ins trusted employee had abused a confidential position to rob half the merchants in Herndon. He would come forward at the trial and tell the jure how that scoundrel, Mark Gilmour. had been keeping a sot of secret ledgers and letter books relating to the stoler ’ properties- And he would make ar appeal to the judge for mercy on th< • ground that the wretched Gilmour ha< ’ been a good servant to him in ever; other respect. 1 can hear you sayin* it, I. can see the judge smiling at voi as you stand in the witness box, anti complimenting you on .vour fine goo« nature. Good Cord, the hypocrisy o , it all!” ' “ Well, why not?” Croot said, not ii , the least moved. “ There is not th least reason why we should bot suffer " You wouldn’t l>e a Git lumpier if vo though I was in the next ‘cell to you own. And besides, you wouldn’t* ge m..re than about three Years, and . IS I stood in i lie «loc>k with you. wha would become of ' your liltje fortnn ‘ when von came out again? Where*? whilst one of us retains his freedon the. other can look forward with *e: Uinty to coming into his little lot whe t hv trouble ii 1-au It hL'i lik-. to talk in that way Mark (To be coutmueJ.)