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A Friendless Millionaire

| (By H. Lawrence Phillips.)

(Author of “Cap’n Benny,” etc., etc.)

FASCINATING STORY OF ADVENTURE.

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Rupert Norrlsh, a struggling bank clerk, friendless and alone In the world, describes how he learns from the solicitors, Messrs Harrow and’ Kedge, that ho has been lert one million pounds by George Haytor, a friend of his father. Should ho die before tbe age or thirty, however, the money goes to an unknown man named Mark Judwood, Rupert befriends a man named William Ranger, whom he finds on his doorstep In a state or collapse, and takes him Into his service as valet. Rupert makes the acquaintance or William Holmes, a trader on a South Sea Island. He invites Rupert to visit him at Moa Tao In four months’ time. . Rupert accepts. The only means or getting up to Moa Tao is by the trading schooner ” Motane,” which Rupert Joins at San Francisco. Captain Mariel Is a drunken bully; Benton, tho mate, a curious man v a mixture of good and evil. The crew Is composed or natives from the Islands. Rupert has dinner In San Francisco with a chanCe acquaintance before joining the “ Motane,” The schooner Is overtaken by a terrific storm, during, which Rupert and Rangersave Benton's 'life. CHAPTER XIV. —(Continued.) c, ■ . . . “How much shall 1 put In 7" Inquired Una. I was puzzled. I hated the thought of over-doing it and killing the man, but we had to put him to sleep. “I expect that he’ll want a stiff dose, Una, but I don’t know how much. I must leave it to your discretion.” 1 left her examining a small booklet she had discovered, and found William at the door examining his revolver. We undid the fastenings cautiously, and William gave the usual call for the man, but In a l'ow key. It was suffl■ciently loud to bring him out; probably he had been watching and seen the door open. William called again, and he ..came across to the door In a hesitating sort of way. I suppose ho was wondering if we were going to question him about his spying upon us.' William opened the conversation,' ' In which signs played a large part. "Dinner,” he'said, and pointed to mouth, chewing vigorously. The man nodded -his understanding and pointed to the cook-house, holding up both hands with the lingers ■outspread. We interpreted this as meaning In ten minutes’ time. William signified delighted understanding by rubbing his stomach. He then went through the motion of ■draining a glass and pointed to the cook, who shook his head as if not making out what it meant. William repeated the sign, and this time he was more successful; the cook grinned acqulesoenco and rubbed his stomach, and William pointed to himself and then to the house, to show that he would fetch It, and went off, while I remained on guard. There was no necessity, for the man made no movement until Ranger returned. He took the glass and was (trotting off, but William stopped him by tapping him on the shoulder and making the motion of drinking, then pointed to the glass and to the house. The cook understood this to mean that the drink must be consumed on the premises, and nothing loath, drained It and handed the glass hack with a ■low bow. lie trotted off to the cookhouse, and we barred the door again. "Well played on our side. I didn’t know that you were such a linguist, William. I hope that has sent him to bye-byes for some time.” " "The book says for six to eight hours,” said Una. "Let’s hope that the printed page does not lie. Now to pack up our belongings and seek other lodgings, since, these are unhealthy.” I tried to speak lightly, but It was an effort, , and I don’t think that the girl was deceived by it. Our necessities were food and weapons. We had also to carry a supply of water with us. We collected all the eatables we could, and found a good, supply of the tinned variety and biscuits that would keep us going for a week .or two If needed. “We had better take blankets if we aro to camp out, and, Una, that, white ■dress of yours isn’t enough. You'llfind a sweater among my things. Put It on,,like'a good girl. You can turn up the sleeves.” She did this, though protesting, but was- very good about it really, for it showed : very baggy on her slim frame. "Now," I said to William,, ‘well pack what we oan of the eatables in two blankets, and fix them to sling on our backs. - We shall have our hands free then.to carry a jar of water each. In the third blanket wc can put the ammunition, and I daresay Miss Malcolm can manage to carry that." She said she could, and more also, and I pointed out that there were the rifles also to bo taken. So we got busy and had the loads fixed up. The next question was water ' "The spring Is by the oook-house, reported William, -so we hunted around and found some big jars holding a gallon apiece. ■ "The very thing," I said; now to get them filled. We can at the same time find out if our friend Is sleeping the sleep of the just yet." Una formed the covering party this time, and I carried with me an electric torch, for It was pitch dark by now On the horizon was a brightness which told of the rising moon. We crept oautlously to the cook-house, and Just across the threshold discovered our man unconscious and breathing stcrtorously. ‘‘Good!’’ I exclaimed; 1 "we’ll lift him in and- make him comfortable, William." Having done this, I wondered whether we had better put out the lamp, by the aid of which the man had done his cooking. But I decided against it; if unfriendly eyes were watching, such a proceeding might rouse suspicion. We washed* out the jars, and filled ■them at the spring, and made for the bouse again. There had been no suspicious sound, and tho still quiet of the velvety air was undisturbed.. Once Inside again we began to pack up. and at that moment a thought occurred to me. "We. shall have to make our way in the dark, and it will be difficult to keep touch with each other. 1 think that I will lead, Miss Malcolm follow, and you bring up the rear, and if wo can find some string and pass It from one to tbe other wc shall bo all right, bar accidents.” "You aro getting quite brainy, Rupert," quoth Una. "I’ve a hall of string in my pocket, sir. I thought It might ho useful,” and William produced it. I cut off a good length and handed It back. "That’ll do; now let's bo off,” I said. "One moment, Rupert."

We turned out the light and got on to tile verandah, locking the door behind us. I took hold of the end of the string by my teeth, for my hands were full, allowed a yard, and gave il to Una, and at the distance of another yard Ranger followed my example and gripped the end in his teeth.. Thus began our weird Journey. At first the change from the lighted room to the blackness of the night puzzled me, and the trees which bordered the road to the sea involved the way In such utter darkness that I experienced a curious sense of hopelessness. But I remembered that the road ran straight from the door to the jetty, and stepped out as- boldly as I could, and the tug of the string told mo that the others were following. I had enjoined strict silence, but in the first three -minutes I cannoned into a tree and made a clatter, which was not loud enough to drown the sound of a gurgling laugh behind me. I hissed between -my teeth—because of the string I dared not open my mouth—it was intended as a warning note, but I am afraid was interpreted as an explosion of temper at my mishap. I got into the road again and carried on. Suddenly I saw ahead of me a lightening of the blackness, for which I could not account at first, and then it dawned on me that it was the opening of the grove to the beach. All now became plain sailing, and I stepped out with more confidence, to be rewarded with a tug which nearly pulled my teeth out, for, of course, Una and William could not see that I had increased my pace.

My load was beginning to weigh heavily on my hack, and some of the tins seemed to be possessed of particularly sharp corners. “If," I thought, "the others are in a similar condition, we shall have to call a halt soon."

Wo gained the jetty at last, and I felt that the first stage of our journey was over; and when we emerged from the grove, In contrast with its darkness, It was comparatively light. I rested my jars on the ground, and by leaning against a boulder was able to ease my back, and I whispered to the others to do tho same.

"What did you -say just now when you hit the tree?" said the irrepressible one in low tones. "That little girls should be seen and not heard," I repliod severely.

She bubbled over afresh. "But I couldn’t be seen, and it was I who heard." -

“Now stop your nonsense, and load up again. I don’t think we shall want the string now, William.’’- "" VV ' •- “No, sir; I don’t'think it is good for the teeth.”

So evidently, I thought, he also has had a reminiscence of the dentist’s chair,

“You can see well enough to follow, Una, can’t you?” She answered me that she had eyes like a cat.

“Well, wc will get right down to tho water’s edge, and you mustn’t squeak If you get wet feet.” “Why go so near?” “For one thing, the sand - will be firmer and better for walking; for another, If they try to follow us, tho Incoming tide will efface our tracks.” “You arc brilliant, and no mistake,” she commented.

“Now hold your tongue and oorne along.” It wasn't an easy Journey that little bit, for there were rather large boulders about, but we did it at last and gained the edge of the water. It was somewhere about slack water and, with no wind, the sea broke with scarcely a ripple, hut It was enough to create a line of phosphorescent beauty to guide our steps. The moon was rising, too, and It was becoming rapidly lighter. I could now see that what we called the point was a cliff which ran sheer down to the sea, and began to understand what Benton had said about being able to pass it this tide, for it would not be possible at full, or even half flood. I noticed also that the beach shelved rapidly, and that the vegetation grew down to within twenty yards of where we were making our way, affording fine hiding for any ambushed party. I had to call Una to order once or twice for breaking the command of silence, but she whispered hack that overv tlmo she put her foot on a crab ■she should expostulate. I .spoke sharply, enforcing the order, and she ultimately subsided, not without rebellious murmurs. I did not heed them, for between my load and nervous f'oars I was getting done up. I did not know from what quarter our enemies were likely to come, whether by land -or sea. I judged tho latter, for the formation of the ground made a land march difficult. Holmes, or Judwood, had chosen his spot well. I scanned the beach in the growing light for any -sign of boats, and was thankful to ‘find that, as far as it was possible to see, the beach was empty. We reached “the point” at last and found that it rose quite a hundred feet sheer above us, and that, as I had surmised,. Its base was washed by the higher tides. Here, the second stage of our adventurous journey. I called another halt and wc rested in the shadow of a projecting rock. We eased off our loads and stretched our weary limbs. I was in a bath of perspiration, for the night was hot and muggy, and William, who was of much lighter build than T. and not nearly so muscular, looked exhausted.

“I don’t think that I could have gone a step further,” exclaimed Una. “How much more ,1s -there of it?” “That, is rather difficult to answer.” I said. “From Benton's directions, and they were only scanty, I should Imagine that we have done two-thirds of the way.”

“Thank goodness,” sighed Una gratefully. “That’s good news.” “Hush! Not so loud.” She pouted, but- lowered her voire. “Is there any need to keep so quiet?” “I can’t, say, but in this still air voices carry far, and we must put up with whispers if wc want to bo on tho safe side.” “You are almost as bad ns Miss Rumbold (Rummy we called her). She was always going about and saying. ‘Now. girls, not so much noise, please,’ Just ns we were beginning to enjov ourselves.”

To change the subjoct, I pointed seawards, remarking—

"Doesn’t the. Motane look pretty in Hie moonlight?"

William then spoke for Hie first time during our rest; I fancy lie had been 100 done up to speak before. "I think there Is a light on hoard her. sir."

Saying this, Una went, to a vase In which some flowers were, and crossed over to where the still form of Benton lay, placing tho flowers on his breast..

“Where?" I called excitedly. "Oh! of course, it’s Sambo; I bad forgotten him; ho seems to be imprisoned still

I in I be galley.” | "Poor wretch," cried Una compassionately. "I’m not sure that he is not better

"You are. right, linn," I exclaimed "After all, we owe him much.”

off than we are,-" I retorted. “Anyway, he hasn't to carry these loads. Get them on again.” Reluctantly we rose and resumed our burdens, and our tramp. On the other side of “the point" we saw that the ground fell away from the beach, and behind the low scrub we noticed trees appearing—palms, I judged them to he. “Now keep your eyes open for a whitish boulder on the cliff-side,” I whispered, for the cliff formation was continued at the baok of the palms. “What’s that?” cried Una after we had tramped for another quarter of a mile, pointing Inland, where a rock of whitish colour stood out In the moonlight. “That’s it, I believe," I cried. “Oh I bother," I exclaimed and nearly fell, 'for I had bumped Into something that lay In the shadow, and which, covered with green stuff, had been unseen by us, so Intent were we in scanning the cliff. I dropped my water bottles on the ground suddenly, and began pulling the branches off the seoond boat of the Motane. CHAPTER XV. Wo Find tho Cave. We gathered round her and talked In exolted whispers. I say "we," hut I must except William, who was as unmoved as ever. "This is splendid," orled Una; "we can get away before they oome, and sail ioif for Fatu-hlva." “We can't sail unless we find the sail. It isn’t here; they must have left it behind on the Motane.” “We can row off and fetch it, can’t we?" “Yes, and can take off Sambo; he would be useful." The plan promised better than the one we had adopted for want of a better. If we hid in the cave, rescue might be delayed, or never come. We had only Una’s guess as to her father’s movements to go upon, and th&t might be mistaken. The boat was a good one, good enough for the fifty miles we had to go, provided that the weather did not prove too bad. I determined to risk the boat voyage, and telling my companions so was beginning to ease off my load when my heart stood still. Half a mile away in what was now brilliant moonlight I saw three boats .apparently crowded with natives. We were too late. “Come along," I whispered, hastily replacing tho branches and shouldering my load again. "We must get into the cave as soon as possible.” They needed no further words to quicken them up; unless we could get Into speedy hiding our fate was sealed. As noiselessly as we oould, trying to take advantage of every bit of cover, we made our way to where the white boulder showed on the cliff-side. Fortunately It was not far off, and equally fortunately the boats were travelling slowly. Arrived at last under the mark given me by Benton, I looked In vain for the opening, and began to think that what tho poor fellow had uttered in delirium I had taken for serious truth.

“But," I thought, "of course it isn’t easy to spot, else It would be no use as a hiding-plaoe." So I looked long and closely once more, and saw some bushes growing on what appeared to be a ledge about eight feet up or so. "Give me a back," I whispered to Banger; “I’ll have a look." He leant against the cliff and steadied himself against It while I mounted Cm his shoulders, and got my hand on the ledge. Helped by a crack In which I-was able to get a foot I got up safely, and searched the ledge.. Parting the bushes, I discovered behind them a circular hole about two feet in diameter. It did not look promising, but I ventured to flash my torch in the opening, and found that It widened out into a fairly largesized cave. I had discovered Benton's secret hiding-place. (To be continued.)

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Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WT19320725.2.18

Bibliographic details

Waikato Times, Volume 112, Issue 18697, 25 July 1932, Page 4

Word Count
3,013

A Friendless Millionaire Waikato Times, Volume 112, Issue 18697, 25 July 1932, Page 4

A Friendless Millionaire Waikato Times, Volume 112, Issue 18697, 25 July 1932, Page 4