The Mine Master's Heir OR THE REAL JOHN SMITH.

King Country Chronicle, Volume IV, Issue 285, 13 August 1910, Page 4

The Mine Master's Heir OR THE REAL JOHN SMITH.

(All nights Reserved.)

By HEDLBY RICHARDS,

Author of "Out of Darkness," '' A Day of Reckoning," Etc. PART 24. Dashing from the counter, he shouted as he struck wildly out with his fists, "I'll ride you down—down !" but enly for a second, then his arms were pinioned by two men. '"Get a rope, lads !" one of them shouted. Jevons writhed and kicked, foaming at the mouth in his rage,, which was almost madness ; then, while he still fought and struggled desperately, his arms were firmly bound to his side with a piece ol rope, and holding him securely by the collar, one of the men looked round as he said :

"You all heard what he said. He's condemned out of his own mouth. Charley Dykes is my cousin. He was a fine fellow before it all happened-. Lacs,, what shall I do with this fiend ?" he asked.

"Thrash him !" "Tar and feather him !" was shouted ; and amidst the uprear could be heard Jevons's voice shrieking, '"I'll ride you down, and male ri ! :bering idiots of you all !" Ih 2 mm who held him spoke :

"_oj heard him talking about the -ro.ni'g of the lass? Well, we'll :,i e him a taste of water. Let's a'ee him to the horse-pond and duck am, then we'll thrash him out of the torn."

"Ihe very thing! Hurrah! We'll pry ih: villain out !" was heard on all fid:.-.

Very quickly and deftly a noose

was slipped over Jevons's shoulders and fastened securely round his waist, and by the time it was done a liberal supply of whips, sticks, and canes had been secured. Charley Dykcs's cousin took hold of the rope, and another man also grasped it srmly, then a third brought a whip iown smartly on Jevons's back, and he sprang towards the door. Stung by a farther application of the whip le rushed up the street ; but presently he was forced to turn along a lane. On he went, half mad with the srink and the stinging of the whip, screaming and cursing as he went, until he was pulled up short at the horse-pond. Then two of the men :ook him by the shoulders, while those who held the rope told it out, and checked him in the water.

Up he came, gasping and choking, only to be ducked again ; and so un:o. he stood, a miserable, halflr owned wretch, sobered by the

wat.r, and vaguely wondering what it all meant. But he was not al.owed to collect his scattered facul;ies before he was told to move on, ind the order was accompanied by :ome cuts from the whips held by ;he men standing nearest. Slowly—le was too dazed and cumbered by lis wet clothes to move quickly—he retraced his steps, the crowd, that lad increased in volume, howling and mooting at him, until they reached she main street, where the numbers wore still more augmented. "Now let go the rope," said Chap.ey Dyke's cousin ; and as they dropped the rope, whips, sticks, and canes !ell in a wild medley, only one or two touching Jevons. But they were iealt with such good will and force,

that he sprang forward. Wet and stupefied, hardly realising what it Meant, but conscious that he must ;et away from the whips that had lashed him so cruelly, he tried to run. But it was a poor attempt, and his pursuers followed, first one, then another dealing a Wow, while the great crowd hooted and yelled, On Tie went, struggling up the hill :ast Witton House, where Betty, ;rawu by the noise, looked out of the "rowing-room window into the fast?ar'.:cnii:g September evening, wondering what it meant. Almost spent Jevons, paused a little further on ; out the stinging of the whips revived lim, and he went forward. But even 'ib.e fear of blows could not make

ilni go quickly. The hooting, hissner, jeering crowd followed, and a yclis't who was riding towards Wit.on stopped in amazement and lis-ene-d ; then as the crowd drew nearer, not wishing to be seen, he stepped through a gateway into a field, and, partly hidden by the hedge, he saw a man, who looked as though he could scarcely go another step—a man, on whose face terror was plainly written. As he looked, John Smith—it was he—who had borrowed one of the inspector's bicycles, preferring to return that way, and so enter Witton unobserved, rather than attract the attention which his coming by trjiin would have done, started back with horror as he recognised his father, and instinctively he stepped forward to defend him ; then he stopped, remembering it would never do to admit the kinship, and while he hesitated the terrible procession passed

So his father had been drinking, and the drink 'had loosened his tongue. But what on earth had possessed him to come to Witton—the place where he could not talk with impunity ? The very fact of being in the town would revive old memories, and no doubt he had revealed his identity. "The silly old fool !" And John Smith swore under his breath. Well, he would have to pay the penalty of his folly. B,ut as Smith stepped into the lane and mounted the bicycle he felt uneasy, and made up his mind that later he would gc tack to sec what had become ol him. In his exhausted state he could not travel far that night ; and, still swearing at his father's folly, he hastened to Witton House, Ths

blinds were down, and the rooms lighted. How was the master of the house ? he wondered. All he had •been able to learn was that Mr. Thompson was recovering. But was it merely a flicker of the wick before the light went out, or a real recovery ?

Speculating thus, he turned in at the gate, and entering the porch, tried to open the glass door, but to his surprise it was locked. The hall was brilliantly lighted, and he could see Giles and a footman standing talking to another man further down the hall. Smith pulled the bell loudly, and Giles came towards the door, followed closely by the two men, one of whom he saw was

the groom. "What did it mean ?" But as he asked himself the question Giles opened the door a little way, standing so as to block' the opening.

"Move on one side !" said Smith, impatiently. Giles didn't move an inch but handed the speaker a note as he said : "The master's orders were that you didn't enter the house, sir. He said the note would explain."

"You old fool, I'll see your master myself !" And Smith tried tc push the butler on one side ; but the two men pressed close to him, and realising that it was impossible to enter,, he turned away, and, standing under the big lamp that swung by great iron chains froir. the ceiling, making the porch as li.L'ht as day, he tore the envelope

open and a banknote fell out ; then taking up the sheet of paper, he read, in Thompson's firm, legible writing ' "John Jevons,—Your father has revealed your real name, and I never want to see the son of such a scoundrel again. I have forgiven you being your father's son if you had been a decent, upright man ; but I know you as you are—a would-be murderer, a man who forges letters. The oniy good thing with which I can credit you is that you married the girl whom you took from her home, and I trust you will make her a good husband. For her sake I enclose a banknote for enc hundred pounds. This will enable you to

start life afresh. I advise you to return to Aastralia if your record there is sufficiently good to permit of your doing so. "I have had your belongings sent

to the Hare and Hounds. Will never allow you to enter Witton House. If you try I shall have you arrested on a charge of attempting to murder me. Mrs. Gibson saw your hand pressed over my mouth.

[ think you will understand the position now I have told you that. " John Thompson."

Smith crushed the letter in his eland, and a terrible oath burst from •.lira as he went swiftly down the steps and through the gate ; then, is the cuter door of the porch was shut and barred, he shook his fist, Buttering, " D—n Thompson and ;very one of thorn !" and mounting the bicycle, he rode recklessly down ;he hill into the town.

A couple of miles from Witton House an utterly exhausted man had :rept into a field, and lay on his stomach ; his back was too sore to ie on. The whip had cut through lis clothes, and the torn fragments were wet with blood.

As he lay there he remembered the

■vords of the landlord of the Hare md Hounds : "My missis says God will punish him fov what he did beore he dies."' The punishment had :ome ; he was in agony of body, and ;ortured with the awful fear that lis only sou had been condemned to leath.

Lying there, leicamng in anguish if body and mind, the stars looked lown, shining as brightly as they lad done years ago, when Charley Dykes lay motionless on the bed :rom which he rose a hornless idiot, without even the proper power of speech, 1G77.

CHAPTER XXXI. THE BOX. ' John Smith had breakfasted. Mine host of the Hare and Hounds had seen that the very best was served, in his heart pitying the man, whom lie Relieved had been turned out of Witton House because he had stood his trial for murder, even though the charge had been proved to be false.

"What should he do ?" was the question Smith asked himself as he leaned his head on his hand, reviewing the prospect.

His father had some money evidently, as under the name of Mr. Daintree, an old friend of the prisoner's, he had engaged counsel to defend him, paying a heavy fee in advance : but where was he ? Had he managed to reach Middleham ? At any rate, it would be wise to keep clear of him for a little time. The only course that seemed open to him was to return to Australia ; the hundred pounds that Thompson had given him would give him a start." Of course, he would not take Jessie—he would wash his hands of her for ever ; but first he would see her and tell her that but for her he would have been Thompson's heir, though he knew that it was not his marriage that had ruined, his hopes in that direction, but the things he had done while at Witton House. All the same, he intended to lay his downfall on her, and the thought of making some one else miserable gave him a sort of savage satisfaction. At that moment the waitress appeared with . a parcel that she said the postman had told her "the butler at Witton House had declined to take in, telling him to deliver it at the Hare and Hounds, where Mr. Smith was staying. "All right ;" and as she left the room he clenched his tist at this fresh proof of the finality- of his expulsion from Witton House. Then he/looked at the parcel, and started v,lf?n he eaw the postmark was that of the village where J tick Smith

lad lived before he came to Wittou, when he had boon manager of a colliery. The thought that the parcel was meant for his rival occurred to iiim, and cutting the string, he opened the paper wrapping, and saw a quaintly-carved box, on the top of which lay a letter addressed to Mr. Jac\" Smith.

"Dear Sir,-—My poor old mother is dead, and in looking through her tliin.cs I found the box you were so oiisijns to find. It had evidently teen stowed away by mistake along with a lot of her own things, and she had forgotten ever seeing it. I sincerely hope it is not too late to l:e of service to you. Would you kindly let me- know that you get it safely ? I have addressed it to Mr. John Smith, as I thought you might not be known as Mr. Jack at Witton House. Yours respectfully, " Mary Holmes." Smith's face beamed. Ho. remembered that his rival had spoken of a missing box that c 0",!..-. ru' : . letters or' papers that he believed would prove whether his mother was Thomrson's sister or far-away cousin, and now the proof had come, aed Thompson would exult in the fact that the man he had turned adrift was merely a distant relation.

"1 could have told him that long a-o," he muttered, "but he shall 'not have the satisfaction of knowing it. The papers have fallen into my hands and I'll keep them. It won't be safe to destroy them at nice, lest it is proved they were delivered to me. No ; I must give myself time to lose them."

A key was tied to a small handle at the top of the box, and untying it, Smith put it in the lock, then lilted the lid. There were letters, certi'.catcs of marriage, and one of Jack Smith's birth ; and at the very ■ o to.a were two photographs—one. of a man, the other of a woman—and on the man's was written, •'John Smith, youngest son of old Tamer Smith, blacksmith, of Gorton, Lancashire," and on the woman's, "Mary Thompson, daughter of John and Elizabeth Thompson, of Wingate, Cumberland, and sister of John Thompson, of Witton House."

With an oath Smith flung them down, then he looked through the letters. There was the one from Thompson to his sister, alluding to the banknote enclosed as a wedding pr<.sfnt ; there was a letter from a friend dated a couple of years later in wticl; the friend said it was funny that -Mary should have come across her cousin, and that she should have married a man named Smith, that if it ever came to a time of wanting to prove which was which in the case of their children it might be difficult ; then the writer went on to say, as Mary had a rich brother, there was no but what her boy might conic in for a windfall some day, and she advised aer to make it plain that she was really John Thompson's sister. '"So this accounts for the details 3U the back of the photographs," he :hought as he laid the things neatly in the box and locked it, slipping ;he key and the letter into his pocvet, just as a tap on the door was 'ollowcd by the entrance of the landon! ; and Smith had only just time to throw the paper in which the eox had come loosely over it as he ;urned to speak to him. "Excuse me, sir., but I wanted to ask your advice. I've just got a wire from the person who had this •oom until yesterday. He called nimself Mr. Lamb, but it seems he was a man who had lived in Witton many years ago —a man with a bad reputation—and the men in the town treated him roughly ; in fact, they -jrove him out of the town. Now ie wants me to send his portman;eau to the station at Middleham, ;o be left till called for. But it seems to me it's risky ; if he doesn't set it, he may come down on me for the value."

"I don't think so. He evidently ioesn't want to give his address, [f you like I'll direct the bag for t 'ou, then you'll have a witness ,vho can prove it was sent off," said Smith, who was anxious that lis father should know where a letter would find him. And he followed the landlord out of the room, addressing a label, and writing be:ow the address, "'Sent off by John Smith, at present staying at the ■ i..-re and Hounds."

"That's good of you, sir. It clears ;nc of a'l responsibility," said the andlord as he fastened the label ».n the lag. (To be Continued.)