CROOKED COMPANY

Star (Christchurch), Volume LXIV, Issue 852, 28 August 1933, Page 12

CROOKED COMPANY

By

FRANCIS MARLOWE

Author of “The Secret of the Sandhills,” “The Sunset Express,” eto. / /

CHAPTER XXXIV. From beginning to end John Burdett made no interruption of Phil’s story. His attitude was trance-like; he made no movement, uttered no sound. His face was very grim, his eyes hard and accusing, when Phil finished speaking. “And you’ve left your sister with Summers, in that ruffian’s power?” he said harshly. “Cleared out, and left her to face the music. My Godl What sort of a person are you?” Phil eared at. him miserably. ‘‘What else could I do ? Summers had got us both, and I couldn’t help either Anne or myself by staying with her. Now that I’m out of his reach he’ll have no use for Anne, and it will do him no good to hurt her.” “You’re hoping, I suppose, that Summers will be merciful,” John Burdett said bitterly; “that he won’t take revenge on her when he finds out that you’ve tricked him.” Phil looked at him wanly. John Burdett fell silent for a while, staring thoughtfully at the fire. He turned presently to Phil, the hardness vanished from his eyes. “I’m sorry I spoke as I did just now,” he said. “You were in a desperate position, and it’s difficult to see what else you could do than you’ve done.” “I couldn’t go tp the police.” “No, you couldn’t. I can see that—it would have meant exposing the bank business. Summers had you in a cleft stick.” “I don’t think he'll be vindictive—make Anne suffer when he sees he’s got nothing to gain by it. I believe he’s a bit of a sportsman in his way.” John Burdett gave a grating laugh. “He sounds very like a sportsman—to use a gill as he’s, done.” He rose suddenly to his feet. “Look here, Garrison—we’ll drop the ‘misters’—you and I have got to do something more than sit around and trust to that. We can’t risk Summers getting hold of you again, but we must make some kind of a shot at getting your sister away from him.” “What do you suggest? I’ve worried myself sick trying to think of something.” “What about picking up & couple of stout chaps—l can get them —and trying a raid on Summers’ flat?” “Wouldn’t be any use, I’m afraid. Summers is armed, and he’s got most of the crooks of London at his call. Besides, I don’t suppose Anne is at the flat.” “But you were to see her to-night—at least, you led him to believe you were.” “He’ll know better by now—he’s sure to have found out I’ve escaped him. Besides, he didn’t keep Anne at the flat the first time he got hold of her.” “That’s right, he didn’t. By Jove!” John Burdett burst out explosively, “supposing he’s got her where he kept her the first time. It must be somewhere near here.” “How do you know that?” Phil asked. “As a matter of fact, it wasn’t far from here, but I didn’t tell you that. I only told you that Summers took me to a country cottage to meet Anne and that she had escaped.” “Do you mean to say that your sister didn’t tell you how she got back to London ?” “We didn’t have much chance of talking yesterday,” Phil explained. “Why, it was I who took her to London—from here—in my old Ford van. I’ve been wondering ever since why she was in such a hurry and where she came from.” “Was that the first time you met my ftister—yesterday ? Didn’t you know her before that?” “Of course I didn’t,” with a frank smile. “I wish I had.” “Burdett, you’re a brick,” Phil exclaimed. “I had an idea somehow that you and your mother were old friends of my sister.” John Burdett cut him short. “Your sister is the sort of person who makes new' friends feel like old friends—and wish they were,” he said. “I was only of the chance of being of use “We’re getting off the track; let’s get back to it.” he said briskly, when he had expelled a mouthful of smoke. “If you went to the cottage your sister escaped from, you must know where it is. It would be a good place to start looking for her.” “I expect I could find it in the daytime, in fact. I’m sure I could if I started from Horsham station, but I’d never find my way to it in the dark.” “Couldn’t you draw some sort of road map that would give me an idea where to look for it? I know the country pretty well about here.” “I’d. onlv make a boneless mess of it. All I can tell you is that it’s a cottage on the right-hand side of a lane about four or five miles from Horsham. I’m sure I could find it by daylight, but I couldn’t direct you to it.” “ That hangs us up till morning, then,” John Burdett said glumly. “Still, ■we won’t lose much time in finding it then. We’ll make it the starting pcint of our hunt. I only hope we snan t be too late.” “I don’t suppose the few hours between now and to-morrow mornin« will make much difference. If Anne is at the cottage now she’ll be there in the morning, and I shouldn’t think Summers will make any move to-night.” “We’ll have the van out first thing, then.” John Burdett decided. “With goggles, a cap, and one of my old coats, you can ride beside me without risk of being recognised by any of the Summers gang. But mind, not a word to my mother. She’s taken such a great liking to your sister that she’d be frightfully worried if she had any idea of the trouble she’s in.” He gave the warning only just in time, for before Phil could reply Mrs. Burdett entered the room with a candlestick for Phil and to tell him that his room was ready for him. CHAPTER XXXV. Phil Garrison was aroused by the opening of his bfdroom door, anil was fully awake and had all his wits about him, when John Burdett entered the “Get into your clothes quickly,” Burdett said. “It’s just six o’clock, and T have the van outside. Don’t wait to wash. We’ve got to find that cottage before breakfast. When I know where it is and have had a look at it we can decide what to do.” Phil tumbled out of bed promptly, and within five minutes was with John Burdett in the. driving seat, of the van. “I’ll make for Horsham station and then drive as you tell me,” John Burdett announced as they swung into the main road. With a clear road and no respect for speed limits, he rattled the van into Horsham at a rate winch added miles per hour to anything it had previously

accomplished, and at Horsham station, Phil, goggled and capped as arranged on the previous night, began to give driving instructions. Through the Carfax they went and then, in a right turn, ran down the town’s chief shopping street. At the foot of this Phil indicated a road on the left which was the approach to an almost mile long hill up which the van toiled on top gear. From the summit they had a level run of almost a mile, and, then, after passing through a onestreet village, they swung to the right and valley-wards down a steep hill. Once more they went to the right, and then a left swing over a railway bridge, in a sharp horseshoe turn, brought them into a narrow road, in which, few and far between, were gates to occasional cottages and farmhouses. “The lane we want is in this road,” Phil said. “It’s a turning on the left and I’ll know it when we reach it.” John Burdett slowed down, and presently, on a motion from Phil, turned the van into a narrow lane. “The cottage is the first house on the right —the only one in the lane as far as I know,” Phil informed him. A couple of hundred yards on they come to it, and at funeral pace, passed it, both of them eyeing it intently. But of whoever it housed there was no information then to be gained by looking at it. No smoke came yet from its chimneys. It was sphinx-like in its silence and isolation. “If Anne’s there they won’t give her much chance of a second escape,” Phil said. “If she’s there we’ll have her out of it before we’re much older. Meanwhile we’ll get back and have some breakfast.” “What can we do, unless we call in the police? And if we do that, and she’s not there, we’ll perhaps never see her “It’ll take some thinking over,” John Burdett said soberly. Almost at the end of the lane —John Burdett was taking the way back to Horsham over which Anne had escaped —he pulled up the van to speak to a hedger and ditcher, who with trousers tied below the knees and the curved tool of his calling in his waistband, was on bis way to his day’s work. Ostensibly Burdett had stopped to ask his way to Horsham, but his questions when he had received his road directions, revealed to Phil his real purpose. “Not many people living about here,” he said to the man. “There beaut many way you come.” “We’re liicky to meet you,” said John. “The folks in the cottage down the lane weren’t up or we’d have asked our way there.” “There be no need for them to be early —beant cottagers or farm folks.” “Why, who lives there ? What are they ?” “London folks. Leastwise, ’twas a London gentleman bought the cottage a whiles back and sent down a London couple to caretake for him.” “You don’t know his name, I suppose ?’* “Knows his name right enough—it’s Mr. Mersey—but us don’t often see un hereabouts.” “Well, good morning, gaffer, and thank you,” John said, starting up the “Morning, mister,” said the man, and trudged on. “1 know the country round here pretty well, but I never heard the name of Mersey. I’ve never been through that lane before, either.” “It’s Summers that runs the cottage, or, at least, the people living in it are his tools,” Phil assured him. “Do vot really think we can help Anne, if she’s there ?” “I’ll tell you better after we’ve bad some breakfast,” John Burdett replied, and put on speed for the homeward journey. Less than an hour after they reached Dorking they were on the road again. After a hasty breakfast John Burdett had left Phil still at the table, talking to yMrs. Burdett, and disappeared from the house. At the garage he spent a little time tinkering with his van and talking to his mechanic, Reynolds, a hefty, red-headed young man of about 28 years of age. He closed the garage when he left it, and when he took the driving scat of the van, the mechanic •jlambered in beside him. When he brought Phil from the house a© invited him to make himself as comfortable as he could in the interior of the van. “We’re going to take no risks with you this time,” he said. “You’ll be kept well out of sight until we get into action. Even then you’ll lie low unless you’re wanted, and if you are I’ll give you a shout and tell you what to do.” Phil docilely obeyed instructions. “You’ll let me take a hand if I can be any sort of use, won’t you ?” “I hope to be able to let you put the finishing touch to our job. But unless things go well you’ll not show your face.” (To be concluded.)