"THE BANTYRE FORTUNE,"

Wairarapa Daily Times, 13 June 1932, Page 7

"THE BANTYRE FORTUNE,"

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

COPYRIGHT.

CHAPTER VII— Continued. Mark was determined that his part should he to find and produce that evidence. If, in doing so, he had seen fit to help one set of rogues against another, the end would justify the means, and ho had as little scruple in accepting tho money offered to finance him in the work as he had in deceiving Grierson and his friends. It was not only with the loss of a fortune Naomi was threatened; she would be subjected all sorts of indignity and danger while virtually a prisoner in Hector Cousins’s house. Ho thought of wliat had been said about Hector’s son, and the blood mounted in a wild rush to his head. Grierson and the others had said enough about the young man’s character to convince him that such a union would be even more disastious for Naomi that tli e loss of wealth, and it was the resolve to do all in his power to save her from that which finally salved his conscience as lie accepted * fat wad of notes from Grierson and picked up his hat. Mara Whitton got up and drew her fur-lined cloak round her. "It’s cpiite time I was at home,” she said. "Perhaps you will help me to find a taxi, M. Seymour.” ‘ ‘ With pleasure.” He had never uttered the conventional phrase with less enthusiasm. Ail he wanted was to be alone so that lie could get some order into his thoughts and sort out

the impressions of the night’s tangled incidents. And his distate for the woman had been growing all the time she had been sitting at his side, but he could not tell her that! Grierson saw them across the hall into tho lift and bade them good-night. They went down in silence and stepped into the street. There was still considerable traffic though it was very late, and several taxis passed as they stood watching for a few minutes, but all had passengers. "The usual thing!” Mark exclaimed impatiently. "There never is an empty cab when it is most wanted! "Is one so very much wanted now?” she asked. "Are you anxious to get rid of me?”

"No, no! I didn’t mean that!” he protested hastily. "But you can liaidiy enjoy standing on the pavement at two o’clock in the morning, watching the world go by.” "It’s not an occupation I should choose, though it might be interesting enough in the right company.” She looked at him with challenging eyes, but he did not rise to the bait. "It doesn’t promise to be a merry business shared with you!” "I’m sorry,” he said coldly. "I’m not in a merry mood just now. Ah, there is an empty one!” He was about to signal but she laid

lier hand on his arm. “I don’t think I want it after all,” she said, “ It is a lovely night and my flat is only just round the corner. I’ll walk if you will see me home.” “Delighted!” he said and swore under his breath. They set off side by side, but before they had gone thirty yards her was on his arm again. “I said I would walk!’! s he told him with a laugh though there w r as annoy* ance o” ’ IlQ r face. “I uldn’t challenge you to a race!” “Sorry! I suppose my feet were

keeping pace with my thoughts.” He slowed down. She did not remove her hand and, involuntarily, the arm on which it rested stiffened. “You’re not very polite,” she said. “Your thoughts could not. have been of me since your feet were taking you away so fast.” “I was not thinking of. he said curtly. “Were you thinking of Naomi Ban-

tyre ? ” He started and frowned at her. “Why do you ask that?” “You have been thinking of her quite a lot. I was watching you at David Grierson’s —you may have noticed it?” “I was aware of the honour you did me. ’ ’ “Yes. And I was aware that you were aware of it. Woman’s intuition, of course! But it didn’t need second sight to tell me it was interest in her that made you accept David’s offer — and his money!” “Aren’t you jumping to conclusions?” he asked restively. “Do you deny that you are interested in her?” “I have no excuse for admitting that I am.” ‘ ‘Have you any other excuse for so openly refusing to be interested in me?” The question came so vehemently that he was startled. Her face was stormy and there was anger in her dark eyes. “If I have seemed to do that I apologise,” ho said awkwardly. “I don’t want your apologies!” she exclaimed, snatching her hand from his arm.

“I am afraid I can offer nothing else. ’ ’ “Is that intended as an ultimatum?’’ They were opposite the entrance to a block of Hats and she stopped and faced him. She waited for a reply, but he could think of nothing to say that would not increase her resentment and remained silent. She shrugged her shoulders petulantly. “This is where I live,” sho said. “I had thought of asking you to come in. ’ ’ “If that means you have changed your mind I am glad. It relieves me of tho necessity for making more excuses and apologies. ’ ’ “I am beginning to think you arc a conceited fool!” she exclaimed with tempestuous scorn. “I was willing to be your friend, but you seem to prefer making me your enemy!” Surprised by the outburst he did not

BY FRANK PRICE. (Author of "The Love That Lasts,” “The Man With £5,000,000,” "Master of Fate,” etc).

know how to reply. "I thought my relations with you and your friends was a purely business one—” he began, but she interrupted him fiercely: "See that they are, then, and that your part of the bargain is kept. If you are hoping to play some game of your own with Naomi Bantyre, caught by her white face and the chance that she may be rich, you are running risks you don’t guess at. You might deceive Grierson and the other men, but not me; and if I once convince them you are playing us false you will get short shrift! I am as keen as they about what you call business, but I never forget or forgive .an insult! ’ ’

She turned her back on him and went up the steps without another word. He watched her pass through the entrance doors and stood while she mounted tho stairs and disappeared round a bend. Then he whistled softly* "Melodrama!” ho exclaimed. "The lady is furious because I didn’t jump at her offer of friendship. ‘Friendship!’ Not from you, Miss Whitton! I have better things to think of!” CHAPTER VIII—TOUCH. Mark walked down the street, his mind throbbing with thoughts of Naomi and the night’s events, until it suddenly struck him to ask where he was going. He was far from the sordid room at Kennington, and the memory of tho bundle of notes in his pocket aroused a wish for more enticing surroundings than it offered. He stopped a taxi which was passing with its flag up, and, giving the address of his club, got in. There was a bedroom vacant at the club and he went straight to it, rejoicing in the prospect of clean sheets and the opportunity for thinking out his position and programme in comfort. He lay awake for a long time trying _ to evolve some plan which would meet all the difficulties he saw before him. There were two things to be done. First to find some way of making contact with Naomi and warning her of the conspiracy of which she was the victim; second, to learn the whereabouts of the document which meant so much to her and devising some method of gaining possession of it. He had little doubt of being able to accomplish the first. He had the address of Hector Cousins’s house, and, if everything else failed he could go boldly to the door and ask to see Naomi. If lie were refused access lie would force an entrance. That was opposed to the directions he had received from Grierson, whose chief anxiety seemed to be that nothing should be done to suggest a clue to their activities, but lie was not going to be restrained by that. If Naomi was not being allowed full liberty nothing would prevent him from seeing her; and, if necessary, delivering her at once from her enemies. Anyhow, he was resolved to go to Wimbledon in search of her the next morning.

Put the certificate was another matter altogether. He could only come at that through Grierson aiid Ills, accomplices, and he racked his brains in Yflhi for some hint pf a plan that Ajyould help him to unravel the secret of its hiding place. At last, weary with mental effort and the excitement through which he had passed, he was sinking to sleep when a well-known phrase drifted across his tired mind: “Hell hath no

fury like a woman scorned” He suddenly asked himself if lie had h"'"' wise in treating whitt(m eavfl lei , LIU | a v j s j on 0 , j ier ,j lrea ,_ ening face was the last thing of which he was conscious as he sank to sleep. He Avas up early next morning, and as soon as he had made a hurried breakfast in his room, took a taxi to Kennington, where lie redeemed a couple of suits from the pawnbroker who had acquired custody of most of his belongings, and thus laden, went on to the lodging-house, where he changed, and settled his bill, much to Mrs Moffatt’s satisfaction. He retained the room, partly because he was not anxious to waste time on looking for another just then, and partly from a feeling that if things did not go well with the enterprise in which he was engaged he might yet be glad of its ■shelter.

These details attended to, he set off at once for Wimbledon, where Hector Cousins lived. Grierson had given him the address, and he found the house Avithout difficulty. It was a square building standing well back from the road, its grounds surrounded by a high brick Avail. The place Avas evidently much older than any of those near it, and a big board overtopping the Avail proclaimed it to be for sale as a desirable property ripe for development. For a moment he thought of approaching tho house in the character of a possible purchaser, but he discarded the notion. That Avoukl put him in a false position at the start, and he Avas not, as yet, sure that any obstacles Avould bo put in his Avay if lie called openly and asked to see Naomi. He decided to adopt that course, and Avent boldly to the rusty iron gates in an arch of the Avail Avhieli shut off the drive. Then he kneAV that there bvere to be obstacles. The gates Avero locked, and Avlien he pulled at the iron hanger Avhich had once been the handle of a bell there Avas no other result than the Avagging of a loose end of A\-ire Avliicli had e\ r idently been recently broken or cut. (To be continued.)