Miss MIDAS

Star (Christchurch), Volume XLIV, Issue 145, 20 June 1931, Page 33 (Supplement)

Miss MIDAS

By

NORMAN PENLEY

(Author of ** The Loveless Isle,” etc.)

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS.

The one msessinn of rich old JAMES MEI/BOURN was pride In his ncliievement in setting his name high in the financial world aud a desire that his DOI'GLAS. should follow In his footsteps, lint liis sou loses his life in a motor smash. Janies proposes, therefore, that his daughter, , HEATHER, nn attractive girl of 23, who Is about to become engaged to HUNTINGDON, a young Guards’ officer, shall take the place of a son. Heather consents, thinking that It is a passing whim and that her compliance will

help her father to recover from the severe shock resulting from the tragic death of Douglas. Heather soon learns the ways of the city and finds she has little time to spore for Huntingdon. One Saturday night lie her to dance at the Huntmont flub. where they meet an acquaintance of Huntingdon's. LORD rHIDFOLD. With Chidfold is a tall dark-skinned man of about forty, who is introduced as HR. BEAUCOURT. Heather and Huntingdon take an instant dislike to him, and Heather is disquieted by the suspicion that Ueaueourt has sinister designs with regard to her father's business. City life is absorbing Heather an*, the idea of matrimony becomes less attractive. She asks Huntingdon not to attempt to see her unless she sends for him. Reluctantly he elves this promise. Although Heather is an apt pupil, her father realises that she has no sense of responsibility because he is always at her elbow to advise her. So he decides to let her take full control with charge of a million-pound business, while he goes abroad f-*r a holiday. He tells her that in taking over the business and its accompanying wealth she also Inherits his euemies. BIK SIMON LOANES is the chief of these and has enlisted the .services of Reaucourt and a financier of doubtful character, MARCUS OLI.YET. They see their way of’ doing Melbourn narm by trying to Influence Heather. H'ELLA SCIIEER, one of the girls in Melbonrn’s business. Is jealous of Heather and seeks to do her narm. When one day she sees Heather in the cDinpany of Beaucourt she sends an jsonymdus note to Huntingdon.

CHAPTER XVI. A Letter From a ‘‘Dead” Man. “I shall be all right now, thank you.” Heather spoke confidently, but the Inspector did not feel happy about leaving the girl thins. Tho City of London detectives are a little les«s busy than their neighbours of Scotland Yard. They take their cases in a more ceremonious fashion. They work in the richest and most dignified corner of the Empire. "Xow, Miss Melbourn, let me advise **ou. In my business, as you’d expect, I often see people in distress. Let me telephone to a friend of yours. That is the best thing to b© done in these circumstances. There must be some relative or lady friend, or —if I may say 60—a gentleman who could just keep you company and sec you home.” For a few moments Heather felt an almost overwhelming urge to tell the man to telephone to Huntingdon to come at once. She needed his support as she never needed it before. She hesitated, Almost uttered his name. Then, there came to her the feeling that it was a poor sort of friendship that mattered only in times of trouble and was ignored ©r trifled with at other moments. Xow *he regretted her recent attitude toward Huntingdon and wished she had restored (their old happy alliance. “You are very kind,” she murmured huskily. “But I won’t trouble you. I will go home. I can’t think here. The place seems stuffy.” He took her words literally, and opened a window, making a quick decision as he did 60. “Xow, Miss Melbourn, I am going to the street to get a taxi. When I return X 6hall expect to find you ready to 3 cave.”

There was a note of command in his voiod. and she muttered feeblr, “Very well.”

The inspector accompanied her into the cab, telling the driver quietly to pull up when he saw a policeman. Slowly the cab moved close to the kerb, until it drew level with a constable. Heather, dimly conscious of the halt, thought they were caught in a traffic block. She hardly noticed when Spenny put his head out of the window and said to the constable: “I’m Inspector Spenny. Telephone to Old Jewry and 6ay that I’m going out of town, Shan’t be back for at least two hours.” The constable saluted and motioned to the driver to move on. Spenny accompanied Heather the whole way to Dunmale, and only when he had handed her over to the devoted Jennie did he leave. Once again he asked if there was any inquiry she wished to make, but she could think of nothing. So he said he would get in touch with her the next morning, by which time, he felt 6iire, some relative or friend would have the situation in hand. Jennie, with a lifetime’s service to James Melbourn, was almost as shocked ■»« was Heather, but she was an old woman, whose religious faith supported her nobly in moments of trial. She put her duty before all else, and contrived to get Heather to her room and to bed. Only then did she remember that there were letters waiting for Heather, amon" them one addressed in that familiar handwriting which she would never see again—the handwriting of James Melbourn.

Jennie put aside the other letters, noting, with regret, that there was none from the captain to-day. James* letter she nut on a salver and took up to 'H>*»thor. Handing it to the girl, she quietly slipped from the room, but remained for a while just outside the door lest the shock of the letter might make an early return necessary. With trembling ‘fingers Heather opened the letter, and to her astonish- • ment she read: *‘My Dear Lassie,

“Unless the police here are quicker tiian I imagine them to be, .you 11 got some bad news soon after -you receive this. But you must not be distressed more than is necessary for appearance's sake. I shall be all right * —•■‘ale and sound, I hope—and you’ll get my address later. “I am extremely sorry for all the bother and worry this will bring on you; Ibut I’ve got a big mission to fulfil, and, perhaps, little time in which to fulfil it. and present troubles must count against the good which I mean to do by this difficult means. Just keep your heart up and don't think too badly of

“As for the police, just turn them on the lawyer Plilange, but don’t tell Plilange or any living soul anything about this letter or any others vou will receive from me. Let Phlange deal

with things just as though I were dead.' I have everything worked out, and it will all come right, as you will see. “Then I want you to do something even more difficult; keep that young Huntingdon out of the way. . . ** Outside the door Jennie was getting restless. She feared that the girl might have fainted. So she tapped nervously on the door, and was surprised to hear a distinctly cheerful “Come in.” And as she entered she heard the rustle of paper being pushed hurriedly under the pillow.

CHAPTER XVII. An End to Suspense.

Captain Gerard Huntingdon was not in a pleasant mood. And the whole of his company was aware of it.

As one of his subalterns, a newlycommissioned boy, remarked to another and slightly senior cub: “Hack is pretty foul this morning. Something seems to have soured his outlook on life. I see he’s in orders to 6it on a court-matrial. Probably that’s it?”

“Xo,” observed the other, as the two paced up and down the barrack square in the approved Guards’ fashion, awaiting the order to take their posts, “Hack’s not been himself these last three or four weeks. I’ve noticed it in many things. Think it must be a woman.” “Good heavens! Xot old Hack. He’s not a womaniser. Stolid, sober-sided cove, not a bit the sort to pursue a skirt. I’d never have thought it of him. So keen on the service, too. Terribly ambitious.”

“But, my dear ass, I mean that he’s sierious about it—love, courtship, and matrimony idea, good-husband-and-devoted-father sort of thing.” “Phew! It’s coming to something when that view of women gets a hold on a regiment. What are we coming to, eh? Captains thinking of marrying •and settling down. Well, well.”

“Evidently the girl isn’t thinking so seriously about it a* he is. That, I should say, is the trouble. But, anyhow, it’s Hack’s funeral. A fellow’s* lov© affairs, when in earnest, are no one else’s business. Girls are girls—you know what I mean—but pure, hundred per cent fiancees aren’t to be talked about. You need to keep that well in mind here. Never muddle the two, my lad, or you’ll find that the joy of living is apt to evaporate.”

While this dialogue was in progress, Huntingdon was making his way to the ante-room of the mess. He had finished with parades, and he had half an hour to spare before the court-martial assembled.

In tli© ante-room he scanned eagerly the letter rack. Sometimes, when the vagaries of the post had made deliveries uncertain at his flat, Heather had sent a letter here.

But there was none this morning. Black gloom sat heavily upon him. lie almost snatched a newspaper from the table and dropped into a chair. He could not concentrate upon any particular column of the paper. His eyes roamed hither and thither, scanning the pictures and reading headlines. ° Presently he stopped abruptly in the restless turning over of pages. His cigarette and its long holder fell from his lips. He recovered them, flung away the cigarette, and retraced his way among the tumbled sheets of paper until he had found again the headline that had so shocked him.

It topped a very brief telegram from Metz, saying that a London business man, Mr. James Melbourn, was missing from his hotel at La Baute, and that his overcoat, hat, stick, and some private papers had been found on the shores of the lake. Further, an old boat was found floating free on the lake with one oar missing. Investigations were bcin" continued. °

Instantly Gerard decided upon his course of action. What a shock for the poor girl. . Obviously an event of this kind cut right across any such pact as that made between Heather and himself. It was his duty to go to her as speedilv as possible.

Once again he cursed the court-martial, .but happily there was only one serious case for trial, and he had‘heard that a plea of “guilty” would be forthcoming If so, the job would be a lij?ht one, and the court might be free bv lunch time.

If that proved to be correct, he would motor down to Eunmale with the least delay. Lunch was a meal that any busy man could dispense with. Yes, the period of suspense was over. He would go to Heather that very day. (To be continued daily.)