MYSTERY AT MANBY HOUSE

Waikato Times, Volume 128, Issue 21358, 28 February 1941, Page 10

MYSTERY AT MANBY HOUSE

BV PETER MANTON

CHAPTER Vll—(continued) “Better wait for Court,” Horn counselled. “Court be damned!” said Bill Arden, and for a moment his eyes appalled the explorer. “I’m not i waiting for any policeman, Horn, ! there’s a bigger job here than we’ve : realised. Will you tackle ’em up- j stairs?” “Send a man for Court,” insisted Horn, and Bill shrugged his shoulders impatiently. “There’ll be a maid in the kitchen, I’ll tell her. No, you can, and I’ll go upstairs, I know it better.” A Scream Out of the Silence He left Horn moving quickly towards the kitchen, and went two at a time up the stairs. A dim light was burning on the landing from which three passages led. One to the main part of the house, the other to the servants’ bedrooms, and the third towards another flight of stairs and a box-room or two built in the roof. The silence was uncanny. Some of the servants ought to have been in bed, but the murder alarm had kept them downstairs. Bill was wishing that he had chosen the kitchen after all. It was useless to go one way now and leave the other two. Anyhow, it would be impossible to be sure which way the killer had gone. He might come face to face with him and not know him. And then, out of the silence, came the scream. It was high-pitched, that of a woman in fear—or pain. It was coming from the servants bedrooms, and Bill swung round, racing towards - the sound. He heard it again, lower now and ending in a gurgle that might have meant anything. He rounded a corner in the passage, and saw the streamer of light coming from one of the rooms. That horrible moaning was coming, too— Bill reached the door, flinging it open. In a single sweeping gldnce he saw the maid, half-dressed, lying on the floor moaning. He saw the open window, and the rope hooked on to the ledge. Ignoring the girl, he jumped forward. In the white glare of the snow he saw the man clearly. He was at the bottom of the rope, going down hand over fist. As Bill’s head poked through the window the man reached the ground, staggered, and then made off in a straight line from the house. Bill’s lips tightened and he swung himself over. He used the rope for a few yards, and then dropped. The thick snow broke his fall, but he lost his balance and went sprawling. When he was on his feet again he saw that black object, perhaps fifty yards away, going slowly onwards. A fleeting thought flashed through Bill’s mind: he would have given a fortune for snow-shoes just then, but The quarry stumbled! * Bill’s eyes narrowed as he saw the man fall, and he ploughed onwards. Forty yards—thirty The man was on his feet again, moving towards a hedge of trees that _ bordered the kitchen garden of Manby House. Twenty yards. Neither man made a sound, the silence was ghostly, and the whirling flakes of snow had lessened. Bill’s hands were clenched inside his pocket. Ten yards, and his quarry had not seen him. Five Bill jumped. He knew that he had his man where he wanted him, and his heart leapt as his arms tightened about the fellow’s neck and shoulders. The ' man half screamed and then swung j round, kicking and hitting out. Bill could see nothing of his face, but instinctively 1 he felt the despair of his victim. Something seemed to change Bill Arden just then. He hit with a cold ruthlessness that was almost frightening, smash- • ing his fist into the man’s face. For ■ a few seconds he tried to defend himself, but that devastating attack was irresistible. He went back, Bill’s fists were striking again and again. Blood was streaming from ' the fellow's, nose, staining the snow. “Like it?” muttered Bill Arden. “Bather I used a gun, you ” “Put your hands right up!” The words came from behind him, very clearlv. Bill swung round, his heart thumping against his ribs. (To be continued daily)