"The Hidden Enemy”

Wairarapa Daily Times, 24 June 1936, Page 7

"The Hidden Enemy”

COPYRIGHT. PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

CHAPTER XXIV (Continued). Ho rounded a great curve and suddenly caught sight of Lanyon’s car. It was all of three miles ahead, a mere dot against the hillside up which it seemed to crawl like a fly up a wall. Dirk slacked at once. He did not want Lanyon to suspect that anyone was after him.

A few yards farther on with a mountain asli hanging over the road, Dirk stepped behind it and waited until Lanyon.’s car reached the peak of the hill and vanished.

A tiny burn came trickling down and ran in a rough culvert under the road. Dirk knelt down and drank and splashed some of the icy cold water over his aching head. This freshened him and he went on at a quicker pace. When he reached the top of the ,steep hill he saw the car again. Now it was only about two miles ahead, but a good five hundred feet below. As he watched ho saw it swing to the right into a road which intersected the one on which he was travelling.

This road,, when he reached it, proved to be better than the one he had been riding over, so he quickened his pace, and his speedometer flickered at thirty or over as he rattled up a long slope. At its head he again sighted Lanyon’s car which wasi still keeping about the same lead. Dirk realised that he could easily overtake it and now began to wish that ho had accepted Maggie’s offer of Donald’s gun. Unarmed as ho was, it would bo nothing better than suicide to tackle Lanyon. The man who had shot him once would certainly not hesitate to do so a second time.

Ho looked round in the hope of seeing some house where he might find help, but there was none. He was now in the heart of the hills, and the only dwelling in sight was a shepherd’s bothy perched far up the mountain to the left. No smoke rose from the chimney and, even if Dirk could have reached it, the odds were that there was no one there. Again it came to him that all he could do was to keep Lanyon in sight, if possible, discover his destination, then return for help. This trailing was no easy job, for Dirk dared not ride nearer to the chase than two miles. Even at that distance he was desperately afraid lest Lanyon’si ears might catch the sharp bark of the exhaust which sounded startlingly loud in the quiet evening air. The lonely road wound endlessly up hill and down. Once Dirk met another motor cyclist who seemed to be a tourist, and lie passed two elderly roadmen on their way home. Those were the only human beings he saw in the next 20 miles. Then he came in sight of a big lodge, but it stood half a mile or more off the road, and lie decided it was no use going there for help because, by the time he had found the owner and explained things, Lanyon would probably be out of reach. As it happened, it was lucky he did not stop for, about a mile farther on, there were cross-roads and Lanyon, instead of keeping straight on, turned to the # right. Once again Dirk found himself on a shocking surface, and the bumping did his aching head no good. He reckoned he had covered more than 30 miles, and he had not the faintest notion where he was or where Lanyon was heading. And now the sun was getting very low, and he began to wonder what would happen when darkness fell. True, he' would be able .to follow the lights of Lanyon’s car, but he would also have to turn on his own headlight which would, of course, show Lanyon that someone was; after him. He came to another hill, the longest and steepest he had yet encountered. The road wound up mile after mile, and the surface was simply brutal. Twice he came to a regular wash-out and had to get off and push the bike across. He wondered how the car had tackled these places. He was almost done when at last lie reached the top of the pass, then to his amazement he saw that the horizon was bounded by water and realised that this was the sea. To the north was more water gleaming red under the last rays of the setting sun. Dirk thought at first it was a locli, but presently saw it was an inlet from the sea. Miles of country were spread out like a map beneath him and there was the ear, far below, creeping like a toy along the narrow grey road.

Dirk got off and waited. He dared not start down the hill until Lanyon had got a long start for the pass that twisted downwards was all open. Yet now ho felt a little more easy in his mind for the road ran in the direction of the inlet and, so far as he could see, there was no other road. Nor did there seem to be any way of crossing the inlet. It began to seem as l if Lanyon’s destination was somewhere in the angle between the sea and the inlet, and Dirk thought this the more likely because cf the utter desolation of' this corner of Scotland. Certainly the fellow could find no better hiding place. The car vanished into a small wood in the distance and Dirk started down the pass. The curves were so bad he had to go slowly and by the time he reached the wood it wasi dusk and he could no longer see the car. But since there was only one road he kept steadily on.

The road became a mere cart-track, the light grew very treacherous, Imt Dirk dared not switch on his headlights, and had to crawl. Once or twice he stopped, hoping to hear the other car, but there was no sound of the engine, no lights to guide him. This was fiattish country, sandy soil, heather both sides of the road, and many clumps of wind-stunted trees. The air smelt salt, and the evening breeze was beginning to blow.

Dirk wont on and on. The light grew more and more dim, and the track worse and worse. He kept humping over tree roots. He would have given a lot to turn on his lights but did not dare. Ho came to another little wood. The track —it was no longer a road —

BY T. C. BRIDGES. (Author of “A Seven Years’ Sentence,” “Better Than Gold,” “The Other Man’s Crime,” etc.)

led through it. Dirk came round a curve and almost bumped into the back of the car.

The shock was so greatly he nearly fell off liis machine, but next moment he realised that the car was empty and deserted. He sndtclied off his own engine, wheeled his machine in among the trees and hid it, then crept quietly back and made certain that there was no one near the car. He went on afoot, walking slowly and treading carefully. The ground was wet and boggy, too wet to drive over. That, he saw, was why Lanyon had left the car. After groping onwards for about five minutes, ho came suddenly out of the wood on to open ground, and here he got a second shock. Straight ahead the outlines of two lighted windows showed against the gloom, and with a little glow of triumph Dirk realised that he had succeeded. There was no doubt whatever in his mind that he had found Lanyon’s hiding place. The glow faded quickly as Dirk began to consider his position. Lanyon and his companion were certainly armed, while he himself had not even a stick. For all he knew there were more men in the house. Alone, he could hardly hope to rescue Christine. There was only one thing to do —go back for help. Dirk’s very soul shrank from the idea of all those miles of rutted stony road, which ho would now have to .cover in the dark. He was feeling horribly shaky, and wondered if lie would .ever be able to manage the journey. Yet there was no alternative, so he turned and walked back into the wood, crossed the swamp patch and found his bicycle. He began to Avlicel it back towards the track and noticed that it seemed to go heavily. A horrid thought struck him and he stopped, leaned it against a tree and began to examine it. It was as he had suspected. The back tyre was absolutely flat. There was nothing for it but to take off the tyre, take out the tube and patch it.

By this time it was pitch dark. He must have light for the job, but ho dared not turn on his headlight for fear the glow would be seen from the house. He hunted about, and at last found an open space surrounded by bushes, where he thought he would be safe. He wheeled the machine into it, turned on the light, and found the repair outfit. But where was the pump? The clips were empty. With a horrid shock he realised that he must have lost it ini his fall. At any rate, it was gone, and with it all chance of making a repair. For a moment he stood in a sort of dull despair, then like a flash a new idea came. He switched off the headlight, and hurried back to the car. He got in, and felt for the switch. It was locked and the key gone. CHAPTER XXV—THE RIVALS MEET. Daisy Newton had had a difficult day. Nothing she could do pleased her mistress'. Daisy, of course, knew something of Judith’s troubles, and was aware that she was angry because Peter Hastings had not been to see her. What neither she nor Judith knew was that Peter bad caught a bad cold, and that Bill had put him to bed and was keeping him there. But this day was the worst yet. Judith could not eat or sleep or rest. She was waiting for news that the attempt to kidnap Christine had been successful, and the waiting became positive torture. At one minute she was gloating over the idea that Christine was prisoner in that lonely place; the next she was calling herself an idiot and worse—for having ever meddled with such a business. Afraid that other guestsi might notice her agitation, Judith kept her room most of the day, alleging she had a headache, but in the evening after dinner she went out to the secluded spot under the trees. It was there that Scrafford found her. “Well?” she asked breathlessly. “It’s all right,” Scrafford answered easily. “AH fixed*—all finished.”

“They got her?” “Easy as pie. One chap started a fire up on the moor, and while all the keepers and gillies went galloping off there Lanyon and Cadmore —” “Lanyon!” Judith broke in harshly. “What are you talking about? You’re not telling me that Paul Lanyon is in this business?

‘ Guy Scrafford changed colour. lie realised that he had put his foot in it. He hadn’t meant to mention Lanyon, yet at the same time he had no idea of Judith’s real feelings about this man. Lanyon had never told Scrafford of the episode at Yew Court. But then Lanyon himself, clever as he was, had no notion of how bitterly Judith had resented his attempt to embrace her. “I had to have help,” Scrafford told her. “Help—yes. But if I had dreamed you were going to employ Lanyon you would never have had a penny from me. ’ ’ Scrafford bit his lip. “I’m sorry, Miss Vidal. Of course, if I’d known of your objection to Lanyon I would have got someone else. But it’s done now, and Miss Grant is safe at Cuilrain and no one the wiser.” Judith sat silent, frowning. At last she looked up. “Mr Scrafford, you will take me to Cuilrain to-morrow,’ ’ she stated. Dismay showed in Scrafford’s eyes. This was the last tiling he wanted, and he had the idea that Lanyon wanted it even less than he. “You don’t know what you’re asking, Miss Vidal,” he protested. “It’s no place for you and the road is simply impossible. ” (To be Continuedl.