The Quest of the Blue Star.

Wairarapa Daily Times, Volume LXVIII, Issue 14206, 8 February 1915, Page 7

The Quest of the Blue Star.

EXCITING STORY OF MYSTERY AND LOVE.

(By* JOHN OAKLEY.) * '

Author of "Thb Hampsted Mystery," "The Blackmailer," "A Gentleman iv Khaki," "Love and the- Cryptogram," etc.

I CHAPTER X.—Continued. When at last I crept into bod daylight was already peeping in i&rough | tho .Inc.; em-tains, and though I slept, * it was to the accompaniment of a wdd | phantasmagoria of letters, continui'l 1 re-shaping themselves into wend < otn | biiiations, each one less intelligible th in 3 that which preceded it. | J did not leave it there, you inn btj j sure. aYiany an hour, and lot th it in it S term any a night, did I spend out it I But I got no further. The thing he'd | its secret with v completeness th it a\ is | as .irritating as it was baillin r Vml | yet 1. was quite sure that 1 hid ispi I j t.ho proper theory cm which it w i bi v I cd. The Blue Star was the k( }, bit* j there was some tiny, hidden \ uiiliou which prevented me from U um£, 111 ! heart out ol.' the secret, j 'Wandering along the Uppc i Ko nl ot ! afternoon, keenly engrossed in t I pit/ :;!es which Bate had set: me In milw ' came again io (lie spot ui\ l I hid viewed that curious scene in M mil j duke Dun: hoi-no's house. | ins ' i nioiuent or l.wu looking idi\ l>\\n t I ihe window which h;ul in-en oi uu I 1) t beginning of <i> much swutm'-s uu' j so much p:i i n. The old tun n h i 1 ' \ j the mystery oi* thai, cryptogi im in his | case a fatal discovery, since it hid en ' ed iv his death. It must hn\i b< i v lh< cipheV at which I had seen him loil in/ perhaps i! was the 1 ranslation itstl 1 , ,-uid he had—yes, by Jove! 1 told my self. he had thrust them into his n '<< jKH'kct. Be had not replaced them in the belL His visitor had n tinned, I recollected tho scene now, an I Munii duke -IHinthoriio had thrust lhe ] n i i into his jacket pocket. I. set oil" walking briskly tow uds tin house. .1. had no difficulty in obt titling in trance. Mrs. Stims was theie 1 iml\ cleaning, ::-.-iing under the n ' is «' I Marple's sidiciior.' v ho h i I til ! i-h.a-;.;,.' of the place peiidin i s i 1 owner 's acpiiitai, as he o] in i ' j Ti:e body when ii '.van found was attired in a dressing gown, not in the i jacket, which 3,1 a neaduke ltunlhnnie j had keen wearing when I lirst set eyes oa him. ile had (hanged obviously, was possibly preparing for bed. . Air! where was the jacket. Mrs Slims took no notice of me, but went sedately on with her work while 1 proceeded to ransack the house. Bur a long time 1" could see no trace of the missing garment. But I did not give it up. And at last I found it. It had fallen between the wall aud a massive wardrobe which the police apparently had not thought it necessary to move, flow it hail got there I do not know, though it did occur to me that the old man might have thrust it there himself. 1 drew it forth, dusty and grimy, and thrust my hand hopefully I into the side pocket. My search was ! rewarded. I brought forth a scrap of ■ yellow paper, badly faded with age, ■ and falling to pieces at the folds. There was' no doubt as to what it was —the original of the document oyer a copy of which I had spent so many fruitless hours. Nor did I gain anything from my discovery. There was. nothing else in the pocket, no translation, no key even, while the paper itself afforded me no clue. It was beautifully written, but all the letters wort* exactly alike, with neither division nor differentiation. I put the document carefully in my pocket book, though so far as any hope of translating it was concerned it was of no more uso than the copy I had taken from Bugler's version. 1 went carefully through the house again—l had done it more than once before —but nowhere could I find the .slightest scrap of anything that might help me to a clue. '. I determined to have another conversation with Hugler. Not on the subject j of the cryptogram only, for I knew well i , enough that he could not help me i , there. But I wanted to talk to him i ' about (Jruden. I had worried with the i cipher chiefly in the hope, that it might I aid me in the other quest, for I had little enough faith in the shadowy treasure if was supposed to represent. But its secret was impenetrable. I must drop that, T decided, and go for the 111:111. Somehow or other I must run Crudon to earth, for it was becoming more and more evident to me that he was the crux and pivot of the mystery, j I sent Spidkins to Hugler with a ! note, telling the latter that I wished to j see him again, and asking him to meet ; me that same night, ft was quite an j innocent little missive, written on a leaf torn from a pocket diary, and yet it had very curious consequences. But they came later on. Spidkins returned with a verbal answer, telling me that Hugler would be there awaiting my coming. I think T need not describe the intervie win detail. It did not last long, and it was extremely unproductive, as far as the main object of my visit was concerned. What I was chiefly concerned to discover was whether the man he called Crudon was identical with .'Dorothy's companion on the night of the tragedy. To settle, that entirely to my own satisfaction I must see Crudon. But when I tried to sound Hugler as to the present whereabouts of his evasive friend 1 ran my head against a stone wall. It may be that he did not know — : th.at his impenetrable stupidity was not entirely assumed. But whether that was the case, or whether he did not feel inclined' to tell mc, it is quite certain that I did not obtain the information of which I was in search. Failing there I tried to "pump" him as to Cruden's history. But here, again X was baffled. Of Cruden's past'he knew, or professed to know, nothing. .It was Darters —he still called Marmaeluke Duuthorne by the evidently far moro familiar name —who had found him iv New York looking for a ship, and had offered him big pay for his gun-running expedition, nor die! he see (Jruden until he got on board. A week or two after tho abortive rescue of the man with the cryptogram the crew had been disbanded, and he had never seen Crudcn once until just recently, when Darters had summoned him with the rest to share the secret which lie at last had unravelled. ' "The others!" I broke in. "Where are the*others?" "They are in London waiting for us. Darters told us to meet at the . Cooper's Arms in Poplar, but when we'd been there a week and there was still no sign of him, Cruden came down to see what it was all about." "Did they send him?" "Yes, they sent him." "How is it you are not-with them? Why are you here yourself?" - He gave a stolid grin, but did not , reply.' ' "Had you quarrelled with them?" I

"I asked. j "N;'.y." iic said; "(ho o;niosito of ihai. 'l'lii'v si'iii, nic down hore." ■' To lu-cp an i'vu on Loudon ." ' ' • JVrhaps, In- vaguely. "And lias Cnuh-n disi'tivovrd th;' soi-rot /'' "1 don't know i'or that. It'ri that I want, to know. Sometime!} I think he lias and sometimes I think lie hasn't. Dut .I. shall know 0110 of these days. Ho told me he'd not seen Darters " That at all events was a lie, was my first thought; but then, after all,'was if? 1 had 110 proof that liugler's Cruden, and the man I had seen in Marmaduke Dunthorne's house were one and the same person. But another thought struck me. "What, was it you said to me?" I demanded —"that Cruden had told you that he'd stolen the belt " "I didn't say that," he responded shortly. ' 'Yes, you did.'' "No, you said-it, mister; but I did not say yes or no to it." I began to go over the previous conversations in my own mind. After all, he was right. 1 had done some more or loss intelligent guessing, and I had scored a bull's-eye by a chance shot. "Is this Cruden an old man?" I asked. "What do you call old?" " I am thirty-one." '' He is a few years older than you — 1 should think. But you wouldn't call him old." "Not so old as you?" "Why, mister, I'm nearly twice as old as you are." "He doesn't look as old as you?" "Not he. He doesn't lbok as old .13 ho is, for that, matter." I kept up the conversation a little longer, but I could make nothing of it. For some reason or other the old man seemed less disposed thuh ever to be communicative, especially when I approached the subject of the Dunthorne murder. I did my best to steer the talk round to that at intervals, but it always acted as a most effectual extinguisher. 1 felt sure he could tell me something that, would help me, but I had to confess myself beaten, at all events for the present. What I had to do no-vr was to establish (he identity of his Cruden with Dorothy's mysterious friend, and then to try Hugler again. "But Fate is always ready to play scurvy tricks. She had ono then in full preparation for mj'self. CHAPTER XT. IN THE GARDEN. Every morning as I pulled back the blind in my bedroom to peep out, I caught a giimpse of Dorothy busy in the tangled old-fashioned garden below. She generally wore a huge white hat with flapping brims, a ■ short blue serge skirt and big gauntlet gloves, and. she worked with a deftness and skill that augured some amount of expert knowledge. One morning I ventured to join her. '' You are fond of gardening,'' I said, as she looked up and welcomed mc with a smiling nod. "Atay I earn my brqakfast by doing an..odd job or two?" "But-do you know anything of gardening?" she asked, with a wise shake of tin; head, "it is as much an art as music, and needs as careful training." "I know a little," I returned, "or rather I did 'know. I daresay the science—or art did you say it was? —has made vast strides since then. But we had a big garden at the vicarage, where I. was brought up, and.my father and I did all that was done. I won prizes for my celery, I recollect, and I iiiventcd a new-kind of chrysanthemum which was called after my mother—the Margaret Lnmder. And now may I be admitted into the charmed circle of horticultural artists?" She blushed charmingly, and told me I might nail up the climbing rose over the poreh —which wasn't quite what I intended, since it sent mc to the other side of the house. But I went as I was ordered, and carried out the work to her entire satisfaction. (To bo Continued.)