THE GREAT LAROCHE

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 57, Issue 244, 27 July 1937, Page 7

THE GREAT LAROCHE

2 % % By SYDNEY HORLER.

SERIAL STORY

Copyright

CHAPTER VI

THE GIRL IN THE REEDS.

At that moment a girl who had risked pneumonia—and perhaps an infinitely worse fate—moved cautiously away from the side of the houseboat where she had been hiding. Dressed merely in a dark blue bathing costume, Susan Renton’s chief dread was not of being seen, but of being heard. The last few minutes had represented a terrible ordeal —but it had been worth it; yes, a thousand times had it been worth it!

For she alone now knew the secret which was puzzling everyone in a high official position in London. As she waded back to the spot fifty yards or so away where she had left her clothes, Susan ran hastily over in her mind the events of the past two days. When she had approached Sir Harker Bellamy, chief of Q.l, with a view To being pjlowed to prove her worth with the Department—she had gone through her ndvitiate irtage as a female intelligence agent three months before—she had been told that “nothing up her street” was yet available. Her further appeal—to be allowed to accompany her brother Peter on his trip to Dover —had been even more summarily dismissed. “Don’t be silly, my dear girl,” Bellamy had replied; “this is a man’s job.” With seeming meekness (for she had already made up her mind on the subject) she had replied in a small voice: “All .right, Chief —but I do want you to know that I am tired of kicking up my heels in the Department doing nothing more useful that decoding silly telegrams.”

“Young woman,” had replied “ The ■Mole” (Bellamy’s nickname in the Service), “decoding ciphers is a very important branch of secret service work—and no telegrams sent to this Department may be called ‘ silly.’ Now run away and don’t bother me any more.” The next day—that was the day of Peter’s journey to Dover —she had sent a note to the office, pleading illness. She knew she stood a very good chance of being dismissed from the Department if the deception were discovered—but she simply had to be “in at the death” as she put it to herself. Although Peter had been most annoyingly secretive about the whole affair (in this he was obeying, no doubt, The Mole’s strictest instructions), she had been able to put two and two together and make five of them; this Dover job was of the greatest importance.

It was stupid, she supposed, to feel aggrieved because she had not yet been given a chance to do something really worth while, but, after wishing her brother good luck, she had found herself more than ever determined on the point. Some time later a tiny Moth machine took the air at Hendon, and after circling once or twice, speeded away—southwards. It had been a trying day. Once she had been forced to descend for petrol, and then she had been afraid that the train would leave Dover Station before she could spot it from the air’. But eventually everything had worked out all right; she had watched the astonishing events at Headford Cutting, her machine a mere speck in the sky, and had later followed the small procession of two cars and a motor-van through the south coast countryside to this strange retreat on the River Hamble. What now?

In the act of putting on her. everyday clothes, Susan pondered. Her first thought had been to run back to her ’plane—which she had left in a field half a mile or so away—and speed with the disturbing news to London. But then she realised with a certain sinking of the heart that she might be too late. What was it that fined of a man had said? “Time is going—and time is very valuable.” She had not waited very long after that. The sinister import of the threat—for such it had been—had turned her almost sick with worry. Poor old Peter! But what was she doing here, "when, perhaps, she might be of some use back at the seat of action ? Hastily stripping of lier bathing costume (it was fortunate she had brought that along, but, then, a girl Secret Service agent had to be prepared for any eventuality) against she took one last glance backwards towards the field which represented the means of escape, and' then carefully started on ner return to tne houseboat. There must be some way in which she could be of use. * * * * “Can nothing be done?” Elsie Norris, looking into Renton’s face, pleaded desperately. “Nothing for the moment, I am afraid,” was the reply. “I wish to heaven those devils hadn’t taken away my cigarettes.” “Can you think of nothing but your own selfish pleasures?” she cried. “Steady now!” replied the young Englishman. He did not know whether to be startingly rude to this girl verbally or to threaten to put her over bis knee and smack her if she misbehaved again. “We are in a tough spot and nothing can be gained by losing our tempers,” ho told her. “I haven’t lost my temper yet,” the girl rejoined. “I am merely trying to get you to understand that we are all in a terrible position—especially my uncle; and he is the one to bo considered.” “No one realises that better than myself, Miss Norris—but you seem to think I am an enemy instead of a friend.” Woman-like, she was illogical. “But it was you who got us into this trouble.”

Decidedly ho would have to smack her before long.

“I hate to be ungallant, but I must say in reply to that statement that yon bad no business on this trip at all. It was very foolish of you, M. Marve, to have brought her with you. Your niece being here complicates the situation appallingly. However, she is here and nothing can be done about it.”, The inventor spoke for this first time since the three of them had been brought back to their prison. “They can torture me and I will not speak,” he said, “but if they touch my niece the—” “I understand,” replied Peter, feeling that the speaker had hit several nails on the head with one blow of the hammer. That was the crux of the whole situation; Laroche knew that in the girl he held what corresponded to the ace of trumps. Why the deuce had Marve been such a crass fool as to bring her along? Come to that there was anothem small mystery; why had the ex-priest decided to postpone the torture business ? Why had he not gone on with the job at once instead of giving Marve up to midnight to make up his mind? It looked very much as though Laroche was expecting .someone higher up in the Konstadtion Secret Service. Be that as it might, the whole thing was a nice kettle of fish. He meditatively chewed his upper lip as he thought what Bellamy would be saying. The Mole would be pacing up and down his room raising Cain generally. Then, breaking the tense stillness of the room, there came the sound of tapping. His nerves keyed up to straining point, Peter recognised the sound immediately. Someone outside the house-boat was sending him a message—in morse. With an imperious wave of his hand, he-urged the other two prisoners to remain quiet. (To be continued.)