“The Double Problem."

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 79, Issue 244, 15 October 1936, Page 10

“The Double Problem."

SERIAL STORY

(By.

FRANCIS BROWN)

(Chapter XXVI Continued.) . But ot his own e'xperien-ce two I nights previously when he had followed Geoffrey Stanton in a taxi, he said nothing. For how could he explain those two terrible nerve-racking days of temptation he had allowed to intervene before coming forward to , tell Lord and Lady Clavers that he ! believed he had found their son? How ; account for the delay? What would ■ they think of him? And—direst thought of all —what would Natalie think? But, later in the day when Bruce Chesson jaw Natalie with the light of a new-born happiness transfiguring her charming face and shining out of her golden brown eyes, he was seized anew with a sense of shame for those two days of heart-wrung temptation, and lie blurted out the truth to her in all its naked significance. He sought to palliate nothing; to the girl who listened with paling cheeks and a slow wondering pity, it seemed as though this man who had loved her for so long was scourging his soul with whips and lashing his body In punishment for the tempting thoughts he had allowed to harbour there. At last she could bear it no longer. “Bruce, don't!” she choked. "Don’t blame yourself like that . . . I . . -I' understand. I’m a woman now, you know, not just a careless, thoughtless girl like I was in those far off-days—-and, Bruce —you are hurting meter- ' ribly . . . . ’ “ The'n you forgive me for all?” he demanded searching the piquant face with hungrily despairing eyes. “ For all,” she said simply, putting her small soft hand in his, then lifting her eyes. “ You woukl( taeve’r have done it, Bruce,” she added. "You couldn't. It isn’t in your nature. It wouldn’t be you If you had.’ I CHAPTER XXVII. Stephen Maine’s Way Out. “ Lord Clavers 5s furious. He says nothing on earth will prevent him prosecuting.” Keith Darrell laid down his hat and ■ stick and. drew up a chair. It was the morning after the momentous dinner party, and he had just returned from Lord Clavers’ house, where Geoffrey ' had been taken a. few hours ago. j The man known, for so tong as Professor Green, raised his brows. “ I’m sorry for that," be said, and . a troubled look momentarily clouded .. his dark blue eyes. Keith looked at him critically. Strip- , ped of those disfiguring goggles, with . hair closely cut, to say nothing ot the . change in voice, it was no wonder that , Stephen Maine had not recognised his , former friend. Michael Endertiy seen in broad daylight looked not a. day more than his 35 years. As Professor ' Green he had presented the appear- ■ ance of fifty or more. “ Sorry? ’’ echoed Keith, "but surely after such villainy ” Enderby smiled but there were grave . lines round the thin-lipped mouth. j “Speaking for myself," he said, “I f would have let Maine off for the sake , f of those days out West. He was al- j. ways a restless, dissatisfied kind of a chap, but they were good old days, , and——” | He paused reminiscently then, pull- t ing himself up with a jerk: j “ That bag of nuggets I brought here I. with’me I intended as a present to <1 him," he said quietly. v “Phew!” whistled Keilh, his eyes a wide with astonishment. “If he’d only b known that!' ’ b “He knows now,” grimly. “ I told n him last night.” f “ Heaping more coals of fire!” J “ No-o, not exactly. I simply !b wanted him to know because he’d al- v ways looked upon me as a stingy beg- t gar, but that, was in the early days when I wanted to save. As soon as I’d f made my pile I thought of him—you ' see. I’ve no one really belonging lo me.” ' Y Keilh nodded, his gaze now dream- n ily retrospective. He was thinking of n last night with its dramatic climax— n lie was envisioning eyes stripped of r the mask they had worn for months, s and in his ears was a voice deep and ii musical with Its note of anguished reproach; | I "Steve!’’ r “I'd got more nuggets and a few 11 thousands in notes,” Endei'by was say-1 s ing, “in a small iron-clamped box. } heavily insured that fortunately for my plan of revenge I’d left at Charing ,J Cross cloakroom 'before keeping my appointment with Maine, otherwise 1 9 could not have blossomed out as the ; rich and somewhat eccentric Professor ‘ Green.” Keith nodded again in an absent way, his thoughts stiil lingering round , the events of last night. “ Yes, I’m sorry there’s to be a pro- s secution,” he heard the other saying, a “ because apart from Maine and old p associations, my sympathies are decidedly with that very attractive and a brave little woman, Nada Bradley. She j may have been much to blame but » only innocently, and there is a 'certain p something about her that is irresist- 0 ibly charming—l am speaking as a confirmed old bachelor, of course,” he smiled on seeing the lips of Keith Dar- f cell twitch. ? i “Humph 1” said Keith, “but look } here, Professor—l mean Ende'rby—there’s one thing you haven’t explained to me yet, and I confess to being . curious on the point.” “Yes?” f “Well, we all know now what took t place on October 16th., and how g Stanton barged in as soon as he saw y from the shadows on the blind that something queer was happening—bv j :he way, it was odd that Maine and Sradley should not have fastened the a tall door, wasn’t it, considering . .?” j “Oh, I don't know about that. Think [ if the lonely position; would it occur o them that anyone would be wander- j ng on the Heath at that hour near a ' p louse known to be tehantless and half a n ruins? Then the fog and everything, i io, I think they felt pretty safe, and fou must remember I had not re-

' ceived an invitation to slay the’ night, and locking the door might have, I don’t say would, but it might have see Stephen Maine only, not two men. Iloweve'r what is it you want to know?" ! "Where did you spend your time : before you began to come to the hos- ! pital.?’ | “Here, in this house.” Keith Darrell raised incredulous eyebrows and looked at him admiringly. “Jove I you'd some nerve'l” Then, willi an irrepressible chuckle; "Supposing they'd come across you —they’d have been scared to death! “After burying me—yes,” agreed the other, “ but I'll just tell you briefly all that did take' place when I, so to speak, came back to life. I promised you details, didn’t I, after you'd, hit on the main facts?” He paused to light a cigar, and pushing the box towards his companion leant back in his chair with his eyes fixed on the ceiling. “On recovering consciousness and finding myself entangled In a red table cloth with that overcoat wrapped in oilskin on the top of me', I could tell it was about dawn by the light that filtered through on either side of a narrow plank that had been thrown carelessly over the mouth of the' well. Naturally it took me some time to gather myself together and realise that Maine' and Bradley, in their guilty panic, had mistaken my unconscious state for death. My plan to get even with Maine was formed whilst I was still huddled up on that heap of brushwood, so you will understand why, after thoroughly examining them, "1 left both cloth and coat in the well, so.as to give the impression that my [ body was still concealed there. The coat, as you know, I afterwards removed when I excavated the well, and after cleaning it up a bit and freeing it from damp, I put it in the oak chest in the blue' room. I was naturally surprised at finding myself in another man's clothes, but I remember feeling glad the boots didn’t pinch met Also very much relieved when, feeling In the pockets I came across a £t note that Maine in his agitation must have overlooked. That note helped me in various little' ways, one bing a. journey Io 'Charing 'Gross to recover my belongings. Now the climb out of the well would have been fairly easy if it hadn't been for that knock on the head, but I'm very strong, and, aparl from tearing my finger nails badly, ] managed all right, only il. took me the very devil of a time, and I was on tenter hooks lest Maine and Bradlev should come’ to bury me before I’d time to get out and conceal myself. “However, as you know, I got on 0.K., and the very first thing I dli’ after getting in through one of the broken grimy windows, was to hun' up that cosy cheerful little room ol Hie night before to see if there was a tot of whisky left. ! "There was. So after satisfying myself that the house was empty of all human occupation, I helped myself freely and stuffed my pockets with biscuits. What mattered it. if whisky and food were missed? Michael Enderby was “dead” and in the well in the 'garden, and so Immune from suspicion 1 Well, when I began to feel a little' less shaky I went out, but not through that little gate at the front. 1 discovered another that apparently was formerly used by tradespeople, and an hour later I was sitting in a barber’s shop having a. thick curly beard 1 had brought to England wilii me' shaved off. I kept a cap that I found in the suit of clothes I was wearing, on, for I was not anxious that the man’s suspicions should be aroused by the congealed blood round the wound on my head which 1 hadn't attended to then." Enderby carefully removed the ash from his cigar. “I think the rest you can fill in for yourself, Darrell. I may add that my outgoings and incomings whilst remaining in this house were mostly at night, and that I slept in the basement. Y’ou see, I’ve' been used to roughing it, and that I can sleep as soundly on a bare board as on feathers, in. fact more so I” A smile broke and crinkled up his face. “Yes. that’s all I think, but it may intere'st you to know that I witnessed my own funeral through a small iron grating inset in the wall of the coal cellar; also,” leaning forward. “I heard the whole of the confab between Maine and Bradley. You see I was nearer than yon when they were shovelling earth into the well,* but J little thought there was another spectator besides myself.” Keith Darrell was about to speak when an electric bell sounded suddenly through the house with a prolonged whir that suggested a matter of some urgency. The two men i startled, stared wonderingly at one another. Neither had he'ard any approach on the gravelled walk outside. : A moment later the door opened to admit Michael Enderby’s housekeeper. Her face, showing great agitation, was white and scared looking, and behind : her loomed the bulky form of a police officer. “Oh, sir, something te'rrible . . .” ' she was beginning, when the officer gently pushed her aside, and enter- ' ing the room closed the' door, leaving her on the other side. The officer saluted and sent a glance of recognition towards the voung detective. “I thought I'd best come to you first, sir," he said, addressing himself to Michael Enderby, “being as tlie gentleman used to be a friend of yours." “The' gentlemen?—do you mean Mr .... . ?" Enderby pause.d, his eyes startled and apprehensive, for already a suspicion of the man’s errand liad leapt to his brain. “Mr Maine do you mean?” The' man nodded. “Yes, sir. He shot himself an hour ago to avoid arrest—at his flat, sir, in Camden Town." (To be coudnued.?, j