"THE TURN OF THE TIDE.”

Star (Christchurch), Issue 17229, 21 December 1923, Page 10

"THE TURN OF THE TIDE.”

OUR SERIAL.

By F£ED M. TV HITE. CHAPTER XXlll.—Continued. It was two days later before he got back to his proper quarters in the West End, to find a small envelope awaiting him. There was nothing inside it but a blank sheet of paper and a peculiar looking key. which lie placed carefully in his hip pocket. Then the next night, when he knew that Gilmour was safely out of tfhe way down at Gray, he went off in the direction of the city, walking the whole distance until he came at length to Great Bower Street. The road was deserted, therefore it was an easy matter to fit the. key in the lock and. enter the premises, which he did, carefully closing the door behind him, and taking the precaution to push down the safety bolt in case of interruption, so that ho would be able to hide himself in one of the cellars in the basement. Not that he had much fear of discovery, but he was taking no chances..

He made his way down to the cellars, where he turned on the electric light, and immediately went to work on a vast pile of old books and dusty documents, thrown more or less carelessly down in one corner. Here he knew' were all the records of the office for the past four or five years, dumped there casually and quite forgotten. He took off his coat, and dropping on liis knees, began to search for what he required.

There were twenty or thirty letter books at least, and the best part of two hours had elapsed before Rust found the particular volume of which was in search. It was the ordinary type of copy letter book, filled with hundreds, of flimsy sheets of tissue paper on which letters had been copied Sonic of them were in type, and some were in ordinary longhand; but most of them were signed by Croot himself, therefore it was evident that Rust held in his hand one of the volumes devoted to the private business of the head of the firm. Turning more or less eagerly to the index, Rust found that the page therein devoted to Major Langley was quite comfortably filled. By means of this index he could turn up the letters without making a long fatiguing search for them.

There was no hurry; it was late at night, the whole city seemed to be asleep, and there was practically no chance of being disturbed. Rust sat down on a pile of books, and commenced to read some of the letters at his leisure. He • read through a score or two before a grim smile crossed his face.

“My word,” he murmured to himself. “Croot must have been very sure of his ground, to leave records like this hanging about. He probably regards the major as an utter fool. These letters in Croot’s own handwriting prove that. Now, fapey a clever icoundrel like that just throwing this book dow r n in. this glory hole ! He must have been mad not to have destroyed is ; not likely to get a chance of doing that now.”

With the air of a man who is perfectlv satisfied .with himself. Rust put the letter" l>6dlv“on ope 'side- and proceeded to reduce the pile of volumes to something like the order in which he had found them. He was not going to take any risks of anyone finding out that some curious person had been investigating there. He had just put on his coat and was about to turn off the light, when something on the floor of the room arrested his pttentian. He stooped down to examine it closely, and saw that here was a large flat stone, such as was generally used to cover the top of an old well. He could see that there Wfre cracks round the sides, and in the same spirit of curiosity he lifted the stone from its place. “Hello,” lie said to himself, what have we hereP A flight of steps and a« underground passage. A proper hiding-place for people engaged in robbing the river traffic. I think I had better see a little further into this.” /With the aid. of a box of wooden vestas.; Rust explored the steps and the passage leading from them into the big underground vault which he correctly judge* 1 to be exactly under th'e ruined building that stood on Crombies Wharf. He was astute enough to drop each match-end ip his pocket directly it had gone out, so that no trace of his visit might be seen.

He came presently to the large echoing vault with its dirty pool, ot water, and floating oliiit was 1 the motor-boat that Gilmour and his confederates used for their nocturnal expeditions. But this was not the only object that met Rust's eager gazer* as lie looked about him by the dim light of a match. At one end of the great underground cavern was a jiile of various sorts of merchandise in cases and bales. There were hundreds of these altogether, and Rust marked them with a glittering eye “ Stolen property, every bit of it.” be said to himself. “ Now how the deuce did it get here? It wasn’t brought in through the front door, though possibly ir may I>e taken out that way. My word. J have struck Aladdin’s Cave with a vengeance. How interested .Ellis will be to hear oil about this. f must come here again and bring him, not forgetting his friend. Inspector Lock.’’. Rust made his way thoughtfully up the stairs, and out into the street again with his head in a whirl. , (To be Continued.)