Red for Danger

Waikato Times, Volume 116, Issue 19352, 4 September 1934, Page 8

Red for Danger

CHAPTER XXI.— (Continued.) That would be Jill, of course. Nice of her to ’phone, thought Timothy. She would have received the note he had left in his,room and might be a little enraged because he had gone without her.

N'ot until lunch was half over did he realise what answer the butler had probably given. He mside a hurried apology and went to the 'phone. Colonel Clinker answered his call. The news he had to tell staggered Timothy. What a malevolent combination of circumstances! The raiders —'they must have destroyed his note or taken it; his own unheralded arrival; Jill’s alarm. He understood all too clearly what .she was about.

Timothy spent the worst half-hour of his life frying to come to a decision. His impulse was to dash off to London at once after Jill and leave the obstinate nobleman to his fate. But a moment’s consideration made that unthinkable. For, if any murderous assault was to be made on Lord Medway, this journey would afford the opportunity for it. Since he would not be' warned he must be protected. There was this consideration also. Jill had laid her plan with admirable skill. She had every chance of getting away with it, unless —and it seemed an unlikely possibility—the .B.S.T.A. Ltd. succeeded in getting hold of the incriminating manuscript. Timothy decided in the end that he must .escort Lord Medway to ‘Cambridge and back, and if by that time there had been no word from Jill, to take the quickest means of getting to Town for an interview with Dr. Gray. Lord .Medway prepared to depart soon after lunch and Timothy joined him as he went out to the waiting limousine.

“■l’m , coming, sir,’’ he said calmly.

"By all means," said Lord Medway absently. Then he noticed the chauffeur. ’“Er—hello—who are you?"

The chauffeur touched his cap respectfully . “Jones, your lordship—Mrs Bryce’s chauffeur."

“Ah, yes, I had forgotten. Carstairs told me you .were taking his place." "Who is he?" asked Timothy as they drove off.

"Mrs Bryce’s chauffeur." “I don't remember him. Is he a new man ?"

“Now, that you mention it, I believe he is,” said Lord Medway. "But if Carstairs approves of him you may take it he is reliable.. Carstairs is as jealous of this car as .some men are of their wives."

."Is Carstairs ill?" said Timothy. "Why can't he drive you to-day, sir?"

“His mother is in hospital aL Exeter and he had a wire to go to her at once. He arranged for this man to take his place. I had - forgotten for the moment."

Timothy’s desire for information had evidently exhausted itself in that direction fit took a new turn, disconcertingly. "You don’t happen to carry a revolver, do you?" ■ “Revolver! life? Why on earth—? What do you mean, my boy? . . . Ah, I see, a revolver—yes, of course. No, I’m afraid I don’t." Then rather nervously: "Why? .Do you carry one? Have you- one wi'th you now?" Timothy shook his head slowly. “I wish I had,”, lie sighed fervently “I’m beginning to think I shall need it."

CHAPTER XXII,

• The Level-Crossing.

The situation, Timothy decided, was somewhat delicate. Lord Medway believed him to be temporarily deranged in the upper storey, and there was no knowing how he would react if Timothy followed his natural inclination and laid out the driver without waiting for him to start any trouble.

And what if Jones was no more than he professed to he —an innocent good Samaritan? The summons Carstairs had received might be quite genuine. On the ' whole, the odds were strongly in favour of his innocence. For if he was one of Hennessey’s gang he could only have secured the post of chauffeur to Mrs. Bryce within the past, two days—since the edict of death on Lord Met!way in fact—and that meant crediting tiic B.S.T.A. with a slice of astonishing luck. It might be, cf course, that Jones had sought out Carstairs and posed as Mrs. Bryce’s new chauffeur.' But there would be a risk in that, for Carstairs might already have met the new man, or if the post had not yet been filled, lie might know it.

Taking all this into consideration, Timothy decided to wait upon events. Criminals, lie' had always heard, usually adopt one particular technique and stick lo it. They might try the gas trick again. Very well, at Ihe least sign of sleepiness, or if Jones fell in any way below that perfect standard of conduct to be expected from a chauffeur, Timothy would not hesitate. Jones would find himself faced with a long walk, and possibly a limb or two not quite equal to the task.

Jones little knew how near lie came to such a fate when the car left'the main highway some fifteen miles from Cambridge. Timothy reluctantly excused him, for I lie main road had recently been tarred, and a slight detour to avoid messing up the car was within the accepted standard of a chauffeur's duty.

So far as Timothy could remember, this second-class road joined the London lo Cambridge road in six miles or so. They had gone about a mile at considerably reduced speed when the engine began to spit. Just as he was about lo call a hall the trouble, seemed lo right itself. The ■car was running smoothly enough, but it was not pulling well. A few minutes later the spitting began again, more violently I his time; again it cured itself, and Ihe car seemed I lien to regain its lost power and bound forward.

Timothy saw the reason for the sudden acceleration. They were approaching a level-crossing, and the gales were open, .tones was trying to gel across while (ho. road was clear. A long-drawn Hoot, came from behind, and Timothy glanced hack. A powerful-looking saloon was approaching al speed; the driver seemed intent cm passing, hut, seeing the crossing ahead, evidently changed his mind and drew in behind. Timothy’s nerves had suddenly gone taut. It seemed to him that litre was a very pretty litUo spot for a piece of murderous villainy—no hal.btntion within sight but the lpdge at the level-crossing, the view lo the right

By LINDSAY HAMILTON (Author of "The Gorgon," “The Black Asp," Etc.)

A THRILLING STORY OF A FIGHT AGAINST CRIME,

obstructed by rising ground, not even a clear view along the railway line, for it curved through a cutting only a hundred”yards away. As though to confirm his sudden sense of some crisis sweeping down upon them, the engine burst into a paroxysm of spitting and gave up the .ghost, and the car came to rest with the front wheels well over the rails of the permanent way; a misfortune which appeared to exasperate the driver of the big sajoon, for he hooted continuously and tried lo pass. Any impartial observer would have denounced it as a display of bad driving and bad judgment. The road approached the crossing at a sharp angle; there was no room to pass. All the saloon succeeded in achieving was to wedge itself and effectually prevent Lord Medway’s car from backing. Jones had got out and was attempting t.o push the car forward. There could be no immediate. danger from .trains, or the gates would not have been open. . Nevertheless, it was not a healthy spot for loitering. "I’ll give him a hand," said Timothy, He had the door open on the offside, and was on the point of getting out when he chanced to look out through the rear window. A man was leaning out of the saloon. He drew in again quickly, but not before Timothy had recognised him. It was Sinister-face.

Timothy could not imagine a more desperate situation. . What they meant to do flashed across his mind in an instant. If Lord Medway descended he would be shot out of hand. The first train that passed would mangle the car and its cargo of corpses, and cover, if not obliterate, the crime. Ten to one the level-crossing keeper was out of action.

Appalling thought! At any moment a train might come swooping round the curve and out of the cutting.

Timothy literally hounded out into the road, and when Lord Medway would have followed lie hissed a command at him so savagely that that nobleman shrank hack in alarm.

“Slay there! Keep down —out of sight. ” Jones was making for the rear of the car ostensibly to get a better leverage for pushing. “Here you!” yelled Timothy..

He caught him by the coat collar and swung him roughly back. The fellow’s blanched I,error-stricken face was confession enough. Maddened with fury and the need for speedy action, Timothy struck at it savagely Jones reeled out and fell against the front wheel.

Perhaps it would have been better to liave got Lord .Medway out and to have made a dash for the lodge. There might be a telephone there. But it was too late now for a change of plan. The thing to do was to get the car off the permanent way.

He braced his shoulder against the rear corner and pushed, expecting a bullet in the back and wondering why it did not come. The car moved forward a few inches and swung back a foot on the rebound.

It was at that instant that Timothy heard it —a vibrant sound bursting suddenly into a roar, and the whistling, 'steam-belching monster of steel was hurtling down on them. There was no escaping the appalling onslaught,. The thing was over almost as soon as Timothy realised its inevitable certainly. He himself was clear of the line, but at the first frightful impact he was hurled bodily into the hedge, where lie lay for a while stunned. When he opened his eyes Sinisterface was stooping over him with a knife in his hand. His only sensaWon was one cf dazed surprise. So his end had really come! But the blow fell, for Sinist-er-face suddenly drew back and concealed the knife, and at the same instant someone hailed them from the line. "Anyone hurt there?"

It was the guard of the train. Timothy collected his scattered wits, got to his feet, and surveyed the scene of disaster. Some distance ahead the train had pulled up. Splintered fragments of the gates lay scattered all about the line. And there was , something else, a shapeless, bloody heap, a chauffeur s cap, and near it a trunkless head. Down the embankment, on the left, a group of men were lifting someone or something from the mangled wreckage of Lord Medway’s car. ' Timothy lurned away with a sickness in (lie pit of his stomach.

(To be continued.)