A Race With Ruin.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXII, Issue I, 2 January 1904, Page 5

A Race With Ruin.

By

HEADON HILL.

Author of “Guilty Gold,” “The Queen of Night,” “By a Hair’s Breadth.’ "The Peril of the Prince,” Etc

CHAPTER XI. Inspector Croat did not quit the pleasant riverside village immediately. It being Sunday, trains were few and far between, arid finding on reaching the station that there was nothing to take him back to town for a couple of hours, he strolled up the street in search of n freshmcnt. There was only one inn in the place, the Angler’s Rest—a snug, bow-win-dowed house fronting on the village green, with a lawn behind, running down to a little landing-stage, where a few punts and a skiff or two were moored. Croat walked into the loweeiled coffee-room, and was there joined by a plump landlady who took his order for a chop and a pint of bitter with voluble affability. When she had departed Croal walked to the window and looked out on the gently gliding stream, seeing but not thinking of the fussy steam lauehes and pleasure-boats that met his abstracted gaze. He was not at all disheartened by the result of his journey, having, as he thought, narrowed the inquiry to the time subsequent to the trial spin. And even in the anonymous telegram itself, abortive though it was for the moment, it might have its uses in directing bis research into channels he would not otherwise have thought of. He was far too thorough in his methods to dismiss “Parker’s” from the investigation because his first essay in that direction had led him to a mare’s nest, and he promised an early call in Red Lion Court. Having settled this point, he turned from the window, and to pass the time began to idly scan the pages of a “visitors’ book.” kept to record the signatures of guests and their opinion of their entertainment. Presently be came upon a blank sheet of notepaper between the leaves, which, though absolutely devoid o>f writing, fi'lted hjm with a strange and sudden interest. At the head of the sheet of notepaper was a crest stamped in red relief, the device being the fantastic figure known in heraldry as a “lion rampant.” Laying the sheet down, he extracted from his pocket-book two slips—one a written memorandum and the other a photographic print, so blurred and formless that to ordinary eyes it would have represented nothing at all. It was an enlargement from the original negative taken of the mark on the murdered woman’s throat, and the written paper was the report of the Government specialist who had done the work. “The enlargement is not satisfactory,” he wrote, “the mark having failed to yield sufficient definition to enable one to judge of the design with any certainty. It proves, however, that the ring was engraved with a crest—not a monogram—and it was probably an animay of some kind. But whether a boar’s head or a griffin, or a lion rampant it is impossible to say.” The inspector had scrutinised the photograph a hundred times already. • and had come to the same conclusion. A comparison with the crest on the notepaper brought him no further, and he shook his head doubtfully. “It might be a lion, or a dancing pig, or a poodle sitting up and begging,” he muttered. “And when all’s said and done there’s not much of a clue in a rampant lion, that being about the commonest crest there is. When I was a youngster on point duty at Hyde Park Corner, getting the knack of noting things, about every other barouche that drove into the Row had one of those things on the panels.” All the same, when the landlady came

bustling in with his chop he dretv her attention to the sheet of paper. He was struck at once by the change in her countenance from smiling complacency to unfeigned disgust. “That must have been left by some people that stayed here in the spring of last year,” she said gravely, as though the reminiscence were an unpleasant one. “I didn’t know it was in the book, but they used paper like that.” “Howling swells, I suppose?” replied Mr Croal carelessly, as he seated himself before the smoking dish. “Oh, dear, no, sir; I should say it was a butcher and his bride on their honeymoon,” returned the landlady, lingering as though not loth to gossip. “It began all as sweet as treacle, and ended — well. I wished I’d never took ’em in.” “Ah, people often get a bit fidgety towards the end of a honeymoon, but it mostly comes all right afterwards.” remarked the inspector, sousing his chop with tomato sauce. “Fidgety wasn’t the word for it, sir.” said the landlady with retrospective dignation. “He was just a downright great hulking brute, seldom sober, and using language that I should be sorry to hear from the bargees on the towpath yonder. He treated her - like dirt after the first month, and at the end of the second bolted with all her jewellery. And she had a tidy lot, too.” “Poor creature! And how unpleasant for you. Mrs Timmins,” said Croal persuasively. “And what might have been the name of this interesting couple?” “They called themselves Smith; but. of course, that goes for nothing.” was the landlady’s answer. “And the man had the manners of a drunken navvy’, you say, and the appearance of a journeyman butcher. Strange for such people to have a crest on their notepaper,” Croal mused aloud. “Perhaps she was a lady, run off with some one below her in station?” But Mrs Timmins promptly blocked that solution by’ asserting that the victim of the brutal husband did riot come of gentlestock. “A rough, good-natur-ed young woman, sir. of the London style: but nothing classy’ about her,” was the landlady’s verdict. “She was high-spirited when she first come to stay’ here, but she was a poor, broken thing when she crawled down to the station, with just five shillings in her purse, she told me, after he’d bolted. Yet, with it all. I believe she was fond of him, and was mad for him to come back to her.” The inspector attacked his plate vigorously, and Mrs Timmins took the hint and withdrew, leaving him to enjoy his meal. But it was really a “feast of reason” that engrossed the trained intelligence of Mr Croal during the remainder of his stay at the Angler’s Rest, and when he quitted the old hostelry to go to the station a subdued fire burned in his deep-set eyes. “I can go one better than my’ friend the Home Office photographer.” he murmured. as he settled himself in the seclusion of a second-class carriage, “for I can put a name to that curious beast on the blurred picture. It’s a rampant lion, sure enough, and the female honeymooner at the inn was Billy Tidmarsh’s sister. But who was the wearer of the rampant lion signet, who. by the way. must have been a curious sort of beast himself? When I can put a name to him—well, it’ll he about time to apnlv for a warrant.” Mr. Inspector Croal put a handkerchief over his head and slept till his ticket was demanded at Vauxhall. but. he must have been pursuing the same train of thought in his dreams, for he remarked softlv to himself: “Funny

that 1 should have picked up this little clue all through being lumbered on to that nice at istocratic Miss Beauchamp. A tipping-office girl, ha! ha! Why, though naturally upset by’ the attentions of a gentleman from ‘the Yard/ she looked fit to grace a Court Drawing-room. But where do ‘Parker’s Lightning Finals’ come in, I wonder?” CHAPTER XII. THE SKYLIGHT IN THE ROOF. There need be no secret about this matter. Mr. Leopold Tannadyce was the author of the anonymous telegram which inadvertently furnished Mr. Croal with the clue he was so pleased with. The object of the moneylender was to create a breach between Sir Charles Roylanee and Nance Beauchamp by’ disclosing to the baronet, through the unwitting mouth of the detective, that Nance was engaged in the dissemination of turf advice. He had carefully planned to send his information on Sunday’ morning, counting on Croal being in such a haste to verify it that, not being able to do so at the closed office in the court, he would go. down to Barfield to make inquiries of Sir Charles. But he had not foreseen

the eheck which Croal won <1 get in a great measure owing to Nance’s presence in the riverside village, of which he was ignorant. Still less could he have foreseen the chance discoveries the inspector was to stumble on at the Angler’s Rest. So it was that two days later TannaGyce giew impatient to learn whether his mean artifice had succeeded, and when Hooligan swaggered into his private room for instructions he tried to pump him on the subject. By a sort of tacit consent, no reference had been made let ween the two to the tragery on the Downs, though in these days the confederates had taken to eyeing each other furtively, as if striving to fathom the mind of the other. Otherwise their outward relations were the same. “You never told me the sequel of your little game with Miss Parker. Did you find her more amendable when you went back to let her out?” Tannadyce inquired carelessly. “She got let out. confound her!” Hooligan snapped viciously. “How is she behaving—down on her luck since you got the better of her?” “If she is she doesn't show it. She just looks knives at me when I do a

bit of pieaching the old man about the wax .. • rr ndmg starlight up in the betting." -That doesn't look as if she had fall,!. out with Rovlance.” remarked Tanna.it e meditatively. T think. H<*oly.~ he »rnt on after a pause, "that in view of future contingencies it would te well t< knock ->n the head any friendship. post r present, etween th >se two -.retry dears. I should like you t ■ man lown to the place Koylance - - few nights at the inn. hou could get into conversation with him and blurt it out that the girl he was talking to at the trial gave him away in the ordinary course of her vocation as a tipster. Karfield is the name of the village fur - Lord coarse, red face shed | s thick lips ■ - ■ ■ ■ s “No. 1 be hang if I do it. I’ll be hanged if I’ll go to wit sullen rage that he should be expected do this man’s bidding—above a'.!. »uch bidding as -.hat. Tannadyce regarded him with the critical gaze of a huntsman endeavouring to account for the mutiny of a usually ■lent hound. Apparently he succeeded. “I see.” : e said, slowly, keeping his beady black eyes on Hooligan's face, -that I shall have to do it another way. -: . ng y u rati er t - I c tf FUrfield was the idyllic spot where ~Dro-. ried Hooligan -urionsly. . - _ ■ ■ • ■■■■ ’ • ■ . ■ •ivce sa: unmoved. but with a warning -• ger hovering ver the call-bell. -Don’t y. . think that the intrusi >n of the police into our affairs at this iuneture would be mors- annoying to v. u than to me. my lord, if yon force r e t them ittsaid the financier. iiittg itt s sigr.ir. .-.nt .-.nier- - B j . .. - Barfield sn The two men stared st each othe'. with >pe n enmity a* first, tbei w itl a nine ■ ~ - n ’ m interests. Finally Holligan b- ke in.t a “I'm a bit below par." he grunted. •You n'i'.zs”n’t tAkv any is- -f r.*e. s that—that '. • • t - fe'. c really T here 4 " Yes I .t - ■ ’ aw • - : ■ ■ - need alarm ■ " Tiidyee - ■ ■ ' _ ■ rrant ' — ’ - heel went — - - Parker’s, --n the strength of an unsigned wire I sent him. Of course 1 sb. ir.’t have dore it if I had known . - ’ - - Hgan intevrupte 1 “You're nn vour f->'t in it quite T That ferret will come pryinz - - “r.? office new. and though the srirl him anyth ini! I shal. !:ave ~ " e all the Time.” -Well. w-rfi hnn you. s-.' ■ < v<hq don’: hare to Sump in th-? air.' h”.tty:e responded cheerfully. -Tot:’’ setter -sat along there now. The fair - be trusted al mh t s.? parted the two allies, and white Ht-rlig-an was sree-dirg eastward tn a s-s:m Nance was feverishly busy at he in Red Lion Court nutting in- : ■ practice s project which she had

matured since her return from Barre*.! M n lay morning- Mr Beauchar.'.p -a: with eye- in his - .. fimzors vere folding into their enve- . - letter- t a Ivioe recommending S tainly earned by the enclosure of ed matter- but it happened to be couch- ■ : e Kind man supposed. "W'e ave to record with sorrow that - rust be canoe Zed. pri- \ inf rni.ition having reached us : :t the -t is not dfdng we?.. There is K.entv of time for our clients to backing Minister, who. now that our original selection has br 'ken down, tn.av be regarded as a good thing.” ' ■ ■ which Nance was striving with might and main to get done up. and. if possible. ousted, before H>.x<igan‘s arrivah She ha 1 had it printed herself, not by the jobbing printer close by. but by another. and she pinned her hope to its knocking Starlight out t o such a figure that its owner could hack it to advantage It was all she could do for “Charley.” and she did it eagerly, deftly—in spite of the risk she ran from •he titled boor who might appear at any moment- and of the reluctance she felt to deceive that pathetic figure at the other side of the table. “You are in a groat hurry to-day.” said Mr Beaujhamp his sightless eyes dire:-ted at the swin crackle of the “I've got to be. father.” Nance replied. fastening down the last of the envelopes and risinz for the twentieth time tc look out into the j 'urt. Yes. there he came at last—the big. burly m his c ■ 7 - • ’. - - the well-worn stones as though he owned them- It was too late now t run out and post the letters, anf -he trembled to think what he w->uld do if letters into a basket an', thrust them ini ? the cupboard he should have £one. she discarded at once. Her father's tuiek sense f hearing would tell him what she wa- doing and he was aware that she had been eno'.'- J nz rir?n'.ars the -nine “ o would he sure to hear from him how busy she had been, and she would r~ ima t .e : a r-oount • *r havretz ~ ~ *.nz - , . . . . . . . - for turning it aside if necessary The heavy foo:<ieps clattered on the creaky stairs, and Ho 'izan appeared nt the doer, it <-nen in his usual ur“.*.-r.r.erly style. Retaining her rlare ■ ■ ‘ ’ - - - . - : - v - .• - eived his surii f s-r.r- - - : ~ h- ’ ih • fb’.e. Tr.e zrirl was quick to note a subtle change in him—not as to his speech, but in his looks and demeanour. The overbearing bluster was the same as ever, but it was accompanied bv a :-uri-r-“s furtiveress. a tendenev to

stop znd listen and over the si. ukler. which tris in queer contrast t-' the boisterous tone. “Well. Parker, oki boy. you've been jyoing it. I <ce- —you and the lady help.” he leiran rudely, sitting down and nngering -.he pile of letters in a way that made Nance’s flesh creep. “We shall have to cut up the spoils soon, with all the new subscribers nty money has brought in.” ‘Your lordship's share is at your service whenever you wish.' said old Beauchamp. who had much a<io to curb his resentment at his partners manner. There were fifty-seven fresh appli--ants this morning.' interposed Nance quickly. 'lf you like, father. 1 will run across to the pos--office and cash the orders, so that you can have a settlement with Lord Hooligan. I can post this lot of letters at the same time.” Hooligan looked at her with an evil grin. “Not much, you don’t.” he sneered. “I'd rather wait for the cash than have you dropping all that valuahje advice down a sewer grating. That would never do. just as our worthy clients have got Starlight so talked about that they're backing him at the clubs. 1 wonder how the owner likes it. eh. ParkerT* ~<hir duty, my lord, as champions of the British thoroughbre-d is to the British public, and not to any owners.” replied the old fanatic with a side-shot for Nance. “It is a source of gratification to roe to have been able to give advice which I have reason to believe is really sound.” Nance bit her lips with mortification. Her first expedience for getting the spurious circulars posted had failed, and that another would become speedily necessary if she was to escape detection was apparent from the ominous scowls which Hooligan was casting at the pile on the table. The dull, be-tr.-.ised. but cunning brain was working, and anv moment it might break out in dangerous activity. Taking up one of the envelopes. Ho’.igan scrutinised the address abs--ractedly. and Nance, dreading lest a sudden impulse might prompt him to tear it open, was struck with an tn-sr'ra-ic-n. Remembering her argument that Hooligan must either have been toe murderer or the author of the ar.cnvmc-us informali- rs about her to th- rc’ice. she hit on a plan which, -.-.hhe sc'.vjng that question, might Affecting to gaze down into the .— s'r-- turned fr' m the window with s’ ::t 2-s-ute. mirthless .a :g:. is I: -: .- r ,'r :t Sott'ani Yard, making for the do r below.” she soil. “I wonder who he wants?” The effect upon Hooligan was instant i ozt>.ee. Kicking ever his ehair, he s-vrans up and looked at the door as though inclined to belt- but realising that he would only be met on the stairs, he turned all flabby and quaking to Nance. —Th-- s..- light on the lan iing—does it -.s-tt*’’ asked frantically. “That fel- - • see me h--re. He—he cr wHis iri-h’.t. and the fiimsy excuse for it. sent a thrill of horror to Nance's heart, inasmuch as it answered the question as to the part he had played tn the mvstery -:i Epsom Downs. Yet. with

her pur}>owe to achieve, she forced herself to reply calnuv: “Yes. it opens: 1 will show you how." In a twinkling they were both outside the door. and. standing on a chair she had -natched up from the office. Nance undid the catch of a small glass-paned -mare otening on to the roof. A second later the hulking frame of Lord Hooligan disappeared through the aperture, his movements accelerated by the sound of lootsteps ascending the stairs—an unrehearsed effect in her pr-•gramme for which Nance was duly thanaful. “Let me out when he's gone." Hooligan called down in a hoarse whisper that made Nance shudder, so suggestive was it of that wtusper in the gorse-patch. “Very well.’ she replied curtly, and secured the saylight in grim triumph at the success of her artifice. Ttsen she retreated into the office where her blind father sat unmoved oy the episode, grasping only the idea that Lord Hooligan desired to conceal his connection with tipsters. Nance had told him nothing of her suspicions. an«. he was quite prepared to aid in shielding his unpleasant partner from a disclosure which it seemed natural ne should wish to avoid. Nance had just finished sweeping the letters into the basket, when there came a tap at the door, and the individual who had added to Hooligan’s alarm entered—a rough-looking man. with a lot of unkempt hair straggling over the greasy collar of a butcher's blue coat. “Just popped down from Farringdon Market to have a chat about that 'ad.' of yours. Mr. Parker.” he wheezed. ■'There's my money for a subscription. Blind, are you? Sorry for that. I dote on a horse, I do.” Suddenly his eyes rested on Nance, and drawing a deep breath he added: “Morning. Miss.” “Gocd morning.” said Nance shortly, intent only on the completion of her strategem. “I think, father.” she added. “I will run out with this hatch of letters if you will a:’end to- the gentleman. It would he a pity to miss a post, and I won’t be two minutes." Mr. Beauchamp bowed his stately head, only too glad to be left alone with anyone with a weakness for horsedesh, and Nance passed out with the basket of letters, little thinking that she had practised nc< deception whatever on the nobleman at present crouching among the chimney-pot. For the new subscriber in the butcher’s blouse was none other than Inspector CroaL come to look up "the girl from Parker’s Lightning Finals” on the spot, and more than a little astonished to find that his anonymous informant was right (To be continued.)