"THE TRUMP CARD.”

Wairarapa Daily Times, Volume 46, Issue 14127, 27 May 1920, Page 7

"THE TRUMP CARD.”

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

By FRANK MAYNARD, Author of ‘‘Forgotten Days,” “A Mill Girl’s Wooing,” “The Ironmaster’s A th Daughter,” “Queen in Clogs,” etc.

(COPYRIGHT.)

CHAPTER IX.—Continued. Simpson Packard was in the act of sweeping into a small box sundry minute bodies that scintillated and glowed, when a peculiar tap sounded on the door behind him. “Who’s there?” he asked sharply. “I,” came in reply, in his mother s

voice. He opened the door and admitted

“Have you finished the job/’’ she asked, glancing round. “About,” he replied. “What about the Hildreth girl ? Have you sounded her?”

cent. Packard followed him into the room behind the shop, and from thence up a narrow staircase to a room above. Nearly half an hour elapsed before the business he had called to transact with the old man was completed, and the contents of the leather bag transferred into the latter’s keeping. Leaving the dingy shop, Packard made his way into the wide thoroughfare, and on until he reached Piccadil]y, where he entered a hotel, and, passing into the smoke-room, called for a drink.

“Yes, I’ve sounded her. She’s all right; seems a bit nervous, but I sat chatting to her for quite half an hour after I left you, mainly about the (lungs 1 bought for her in town. 1 casually mentioned the other matter your idiotic conduct; made light of it, and said how sorry you were it happened.” “That’s all right,’', said the son. ”1 am not interested in the frocks and fal-lals part of the. business; so long as the girl hasn’t twigged anything I’m satisfied. TJio next thing is to make her play her part —or, 1 should say, the part you’ve mapped out for her without her knowing it. Have you broached, to her in any way yet the ‘distant relative’ discovery ”

Seated at a table, a couple of paces from the one he had selected on entering the room, were two men engaged in conversation —well dressed men of the city business type. They glanced at Packard as he took up an illustrated paper and commenced to .peruse it, but as neither knew him their conversation went on without a break.

“Yes, I’m pleased as anyone that We thorough has dropped lucky, after (he bitter fight he’s had,” said one. “Do you know the details?” “Do you mean the amount of the windfall?”

“Not yet; I shall have to be very cautious over that matter. ,By some means or other I must find out what her n 1 other’s name was before inariiage, and make that information the groundwork of the ‘discovery.’ The more ignorant she is of her mother’s family history, the easier it will be for me to continue her of our family relationship—as it was with the other. ’ “The other—ah! ’’ and Simpson Packard’s brows wrinkled. '“I wonder where she is now\ ” < * That need not trouble us. She doesn’t know where we are, that is evident. And if she .did, we have nothing to fear.” “I’m not so sure about that, lou haven’t forgotten the letter she sent when she discovered Campion wasn’t at all sort, of man she thought she was

“For one tiling.” “Fifteen thousand pounds.” “Good, very good! And there’s no fear of it turning his head? That’s a comfort. Who willed the money to him?”

marrying. “I remember the letter, of course written the day she was leaving him, as she said, for good, and I also remember the other things she said.” “Which, by the way, were quite t n:e ,” her son said, with a thin laugh. “I knew Campion would blab to her ‘about the money you screwed out of him before you’d give your brokenhearted consent to his asking her to accept his love, His lo\c. Ha, ha. That was exceedingly good.” The woman’s small eyes twinkled in self-satisfied amusement. “No doubt he also informed her at the same time how much you won tiom him at cards, you and Dobson,” she remarked, with a pronounced emphasis on the word “won.’

Simpson Packard laughed uneasily. The reference to the man whom he had murdered in the lonely house on the northern suburb of London was not at all to his liking. “Ah, Dobson,” went on his sordid parent. “Strange we have not heard from him lately. You and he parted friends, I suppose?” • “Certainly,” came the irritable reply. “Why shouldn’t we?” “It was only a thought that came to me-’ '—casting * a searching look upon him—“a thought that you might be keeping something from me. “Rot! Keep something from you? What next, I wonder? However, we have had enough cackle for one night. Pve something before mi to-morrow, so I’ll lock up and turn in, if you don’t mind.”

The woman still eyed him with penetrating eyes; then at length she went towards the door. “I’ll not keep you out of bed,” she said mensuredly, “but in spite of what you say, I more than suspect you could explain the reason why Debson hasn’t written to us —why, as you hinted the other day, he is working on his own. ]f you arc deceiving me, well,'so much the worse for you, that’s all I can

sav. The son’s brows darkened with ugly lines as his parent left the room. He locked and bolted the door behind him, and for a brief space he stood motionless, Ids-.right hand gripping the edge of the bclieh at which lie had previously been seated [dying his craft upon the proceeds of the robbery perpetrated by the two men who were members of the gang over which he ruled as leader. Thus lie stood for some time. He realised that murder will sooner or later out; and that .even lie was not so safe as he had thought. A muttered curse left his lips as he turned out the light, and shortly afterwards the house itself was in total darkness. Cl r APT Ell X. A “DISCOVERY.” The following afternoon Simpson Packard, carrying a strong leather bag, entered what appeared to be an old curiosity shop situated in a narrowside street \that branched from one of Manchester ’s busiest thoroughfares. As the door swung behind him there emerged from the room at the rear of the shop an old man, who peered at him for a moment, and then shuffled towards him, his hand, talon-like, extended in greeting. “Never mind any of that,” said the visitor. “It isn’t me you’re glad to see but what I’ve got here’’—indicating the bag at his side. “Save that for the jays who bring you bits of old crockery and Indian gods, and other such stuff, thinking they’re going to get value for them.” The old man leered and rubbed his hands.

“ That’s the romance. The very obliging gentleman, it is said, was at one time, in his younger days, a ne’er-do-well, and was assisted out of a hobble and out of the country by Wclborough’s father. That was twenty years ago. He turned over a new leaf in

“Anyone in?” asked Packard. “No; come this way, captain,” replied the other, with an un-English ac-

Amorica, got ‘in the swim’ where the dollars most accumulate, and evidently made his pile. He has been over here several times during the twenty years, and stayed at the Wclboroughs each time. The last occasion was five y Ca rs ago, since when, of course, both Frank’s father and mother have died. If the full facts were known, I dare wager that Wentworth—that was the gentleman’s name —willed the money hi the fix-tit place to Welborough senior, and on his death to Frank.” - ‘ That’s reasonable to suppose. But what about Blake—Frank’s brother? Has lie been left out in the cold?” “That I can’t say. By the way, I wonder where he has got to?” %ie covert listener at the other table smiled sardonically. (i Living on his wits somewhere, I suppose,” came the reply, which was followed by a short exclamation, and, < ‘ Why, here comes Welborough himself, as I live! ” (To be Continued.)