JOHN LYON, DETECTIVE.

King Country Chronicle, Volume V, Issue 385, 9 August 1911, Page 2

JOHN LYON, DETECTIVE.

Copyright.

Being a Strange Chronicle froro the Mote-book of John Lyon, Elucidator, Known as the " Lion of the Law."

By the Author of " The Castle Mystery," etc., etc.

PART 5. CHAPTER VIII. NOT A SECOND TOO SOON. It was only a tiny stream and it ran slowly. The three first drops fell not three inches from John Lyon's boot. With a sudden movement the detective drew his foot away, the liquid metal followed. With another movement he pushed up the sand with his heel to form a dam that would keep back the hideous death —if only for a moment or two.

And that gave him an idea. The pit >n which he had been thrust was about 3 ft. deep by 4 ft. square. He suddenly began to rub his broad back and shoulders against the sand behind him.

As he expected. The sand crumbled and fell. With a mighty effort he raised himself bodily upon the fallen piles, raising his body l an inch or two.

And all the while he kept working away upon the dam, pushing up the sand with his feet, scraping it away from the side.

But the heat was becoming intense; slowly as the molten iron fell and rapidly as he worked, Lyon began to realise, even if they allowed him to gradually work his way out of the pit, the heat would scorch him to death before many inches of the pit had been filled.

And they saw him now, and understood his action.

" Enlarge the hole," cried Gantry: " he'll escape up. W T e can't waste all night."

Wilkins seized his pricking rod again. Lyon, with his head and shoulders out of the pit saw him draw back to make a fierce stab at the mouth of the furnace. He knew well that it would be no tiny stream any longer, that the furnace would belch out its awful current two, three, or four inches in diameter that would speedily fill the hole. The rod was raised — 1

At that moment a piistol shot rang out, and then Wilkins gave a scream and threw himself forward.

It was too late to stop the rod. It broke through the orifice of the furnace and the stream quadrupled and then multiplied. On it came ! At that moment Lyon felt strong hands seize his shou] ders, and he was dragged out of the :yit. Only just in tim*3, too. His boots were badly burnt 'O7 the rush of the molten metal. He looked around. A strange sight met his eyes. The square was filled with men. Rough workers many of them, police and colliers. He felt his bonds cut, and woke to the realization that Lesage avnd Bookmonger—also free —were standing beside him.

But he saw more than that. Standing with their 'backs to the great belching furnace were three of the conspirators, CI-anc.li, Gorse, and Bantry, while stretched upon the ground lay Wilkins as lie had fallen, the pricking rod still In his hand. A man's voice rang out. Lyon recognised it. It was the voice of Mr. Montacue Quarles.

" Surrender ! Yv>u are foiled !" " Surrender !" returned Bantry, bitterly, "to who.ni ? To you ?" " Surrender to me, if you like, Mr. Bantry\" It was a policeman wfc\o spoke. " I will never surrender. Come, Clanch, come Gorse, tl *ey are only grown-up babies, the whole crowd, the mob of idiots. There's one of them, anyway."

Two revolver shots rai tg out, and Bantry flung down his weapon with a cry of anguish.

He had aimed at Mr. (Juarles and missed, but it was evident, that from some unseen spot his e I'scry action was being watched by a cra-ck possibly by the same mrm avho had brought down Wilkins.

"I surrender. I surrender," cried Clanch and Gorse, ale lost In th-e same breath, throwing their hands up into the air.

" I never surrender," added Bantry. fighting hard against the pai'n of his wounded hand. " John Lyon, you have brought this ruin on me. At least I'll mark you."

And he made a spring- forward. But his foot slipped.' He gave' s sudden lurch, he uttered an awful cry and fell —into the now half-filled pit of molten iron. It was all over in a second. "A terrible curling smoke hid the sickening sight from view. They talked of helfp, but what helpwas possible ? William B&ntry wadead the moment he touched the molten metal. CHAPTER IX. SAMBO'S STORY. - " You see, massahs, it v/as dis way. rt Sambo was speaking. 'lt was ir> the great office block in the private apartment in which Lyja hp,d interviewed Tobias Haskias, tita manager Lyon, Lesage, and Bookirrongcf were among his audience. " W'en you two skedaddled away tc de works dis chile argufy to hissel: like dis ; Dey grown uyfs,, 10n.£.;-headec bery cleber, but dis chile not n grown up am not a fool. Ttey lead. Sambo follow." v ".So von followed us;, into tlr

foundry V" queried Lyon. " The same way ?"

"De very identicalie same way," returned Sambo with a broad grin that showed all his teeth. "Mo saw you bang at de door, an gib him up. Me saw you walkee walkec till you find de rubbish heapee, an' me follow you gone ober de wall dat way. Den me lose you." " And then ?"

" Den me go hea'ii, deah, everywhere. Den bime-bye me come to dc room wid de big letter A in it." " The steam hammer." , " Spex so. Anyhow, dere me see a man lying on de floor moanin' an carryin' on an' savin', 'Oh, my pore head ; oh, my pore head.' Den me listen, listen."

" You didn't offer to help him ?' Sambo grinned.

" See any green in dis chile's eye, massah ?" he said. " No, me waited. Den two uver men come and dey talkee. Me not heah all, but me heab 'nouf." " I see."

"Me set out on de run. Me get to de way out an' get to a pleeceman. Den he tell me where de people is dat am de big pots, but he don't, b'leeve my tale." "What did you do then ?"

" Hadn't time to do much, sail ! So knocked at ebery door and told all de people dat you was bein' murdered in de foundry. Dat fetched 'em. Dey tole uders ; in half-an-hour men in thousands at de gates trying to get in."

And this was how Sambo had reallv done it. He had gone to men in authority, and had been laughed at, he had spoken to policemen and been disregarded, and then he had appealed to the mob.

Late as the hour was there were enough people to work up an excitement. The police took the matter up at last, especially when Mr. Quarles himself made his appearance, changed it is true, in clothes and manner, and wearing his beard, but unmistakable Mr. Quarles, and ordered the main gates to be opened. They had arrived just in time. One man, a cracki shot, had had the forethought to bring a revolver, and, being among the first at the castingsquare, had opened the ball by using it so effectively.

Seeing that there were plenty to assist, this man had quietly watched the movements of the conspirators. His second shot probably saved Mr. Quarles' life.

So Mr. Quarles' secret was saved. The precious documents that contained it in cryptogram were in Bantry's pocket, and, of course, perished with him.

John Lyon received a £IO,OOO fee for his work in connection with the affair, as well as the undying gratitude of Arthur Bookmonger, and Mr. Quarles' pretty daughter, to whom the young man's life was even more precious than to himself. There have been big changes in the firm. It is no longer styled Monk Quarles, and Co. Its new title is. Quarles, Haskins, and Bookmonger, and the new deed of P' tnership was signed on the day that Arthur Bookmonger became Mr. Quarles' son-in-law. ;

Lyon and Lesage were at the wedding, Lyon was thrown a little in the way of Mr. Haskins, now the second partner of the firm. That worthy only spoke with Lyon once, and then he made quite a long speech for him.

" I hate talking, Mr. Lyon," said he, " but I must tell you I admire you. Shake hands."

And Mrs. Haskins who had been married to the " greatest works manager in England " for thirty years, was so startled at his making a speech that she became alarmed for his health.

There was one little friendly argument between Lyon and Quarles. " Look here, Lyon," said the ironfounder. " I'm going to have that negro boy. I want him."

" You want him ? Sambo ?"

" Yes, Sambo. He's the right sort. I know that sort when I meet it. I always pick my best men, because I can see what they are. I picked Haskins from a railway, and Bookmonger from a clerk's stool." " Where did you pick up Bantry?" asked Lyon, slyly. " He was left over by my old partner, Harold. Monk. He wasn't my find," laughed Quarles. " But I'm going to have that boy."

" But y r ou're not," said Lyon " But I am," said Quarles. " But I say 'no.' !"

" Toss a shilling," suggested Quarles.

" Ask the boy r himself," said Lyon And that settled it.

" No, thank you, sah,:" said Sambo ; "me born-detective. Dis chile don't lub your late Mistah Bantry's work, an' dis chile don't take him place." " Good gracious 1 I wasn't offering you the sub-management," said Quarles. " Look here, Lyon. You keep your boy. He'e too smart for me." THE END OF FIRST CHRONICLE CHRONICLE NO. 2.

THE MYSTERY OF THE RED MUMMY. £ CHAPTER I. THE HOUSE NEXT DOOR. John Lyon groaned when Mist Henrietta Orme entered his Liverpoo office. She was elderly, prim, starclu and inquisitive, and he foresaw ar interview brimming over with irrevelant detail, and ending probably ii: an accusation ol theft against some unfortunate maid. When Gladys Orme followed on hei aunt's heels, however, the detective s feelings underwent a distinct alteia tion. The Lion of the Law has beer written down elsewhere as incapabb <ol emotion, but nevertheless he was

by no means averse in bas'i-Vmg in tin " light that lies in woman's eyes," as tiie bard has it. And Gladys Orme was undeniably lovely, with that bloss. >ni-liUi- beauty only found in English iriris. Fair and slim she had a. complexion which rivalled the warm glow of a ripe peach ; her hair was line as spun gold. and curled silkily into eyes of grey-blue velvet.. Her features were too decided to be of perfect symmetry, lv:t they possessed what was better —character and humour. The detective noted these details while he motioned the visitors to be seated. Then he referred once more to the card which Lesage had brought in. It was ornate and fussy in appearance, and bore in exaggerated Roman lettering the words : " Miss Henrietta Ormc, Belvedere, High View Avenue, Aintree."

" I am Miss Orme," the elder lady commenced before he had time to speak.. " I understand from an article in the ' Chronicle ' that you are m the habit of aiding persons in cases which do not come quite within the jurisdiction of the police" " That is so," Lyon rejoined, speaking to the aunt and looking at the niece.

" Then I would wish to consult you if I may." She coughed and looked slightly embarrassed. "As a matter of truth, the affair is not precisely my business, but it is so strange and unaccountable that I cannot rest until something has been done to clear it up. There is also the danger of living next door to such a house. I remember my sister Emma —"

" If you tell me what is bothering you perhaps I may be able to assist you," the detective interrupted, suavely.

" Hem ! Just what I was doing," his client retorted with some asperity. "We live, my niece and I, in a quiet and retired road at Aintree, which is a very select neighbourhood —"

" I understand that," interpolated Lyon. " I know the district well." The interruption had the desired effect of curbing the guide-book excerpts which had been trembling on Miss Henrietta's lips. It also added a touch of acidulation to her temper and as a result shortened her recital considerably, which was precisely what Lyon had intended.

"We live in a short and secluded road called Highview Avenue," she resumed with something very like an indignant snort. "By a curious coincidence, the houses on either side of us are to let, and have been so for some two years."

" Owing to the landlord having died and both houses being in Chancery," Gladys put in quietly. " I wish you would not interrupt me, my dear. As I was saying both these houses have been entirely unoccupied, until about a fortnight ago when I saw lights in tiie windows of the one on the left, Mount Laurel. The next night, soon after twelve o'clock, I was .aroused by muffled sounds in the garden, and I saw three men carry a big packing-case into tlu house. I saw them as distinctly as I see you, Mr. Lyon, but in the morning there was no sign of anything of the sort, and inquiry revealed the fact that the suit was still unsettled and that nobody had' been near. " Now, Mr. Lyon, I have a great dread of burglars, and I do nov deny that I felt nervous. At my instigation Gladys—my niece—entered the garden of Mount Laurel, and peered through the windows which are not closed."

The old lady paused impressively, and the elucidator, who had grown really interested, nodded. Ho had known many an appaling crime or mystery spring from the simple foundation of an empty house. "Gladys saw a man in one of the rooms. He dodged out of sight, but not before she had seen enough to know that he was dwarfish in stature and had very white hair. Alarmed by this, I reported the facts to the police, and had the house searched. They found nothing, and only laughed at me."

" Did an ordinary constable make the search ?" Lyon asked, quickly. He could guess how thorough such ar investigation would be, particularly if made at the instigation of a nervous maiden lady.

" Yes. At least two constables were there for twenty minutes or so, together with Mr. Finn of Welding and Finn, the firm who had charge of the keys."

" Humph ! I should not place too much reliance on such a search."

" I do not place any reliance at all now although I confess to beim: partially saUntied at the time. Hut. last night something else happened. There is a rough plot of building ground at the hack of Highview Avenue, which is easily accessible from the road 011 the other side. Soon after dusk" T saw two men carry a coflin along under the hedge, lift it over the wall, and drop it among the bushes in the back garden (if Mount. Laurel. 1 hey went back the way they came, and 1 have, seen no more of them since. " Did you go down and investigate the box ?" the detective asked, now keenly interested. " And hi; murdered by some hide,en assassin ? Never !'' "At least you can srivo nie some description of the men ?" "It was too dark —nearly eight o'clock and not moonlight. Hut one man was quite 0 dwarf —just as (tladys said." Lyon reflected for a moment, drumming with his lingers 011 the desk. " How is it that none of the ofhei neighbours have noticed anything; he queried at length. " Because the houses are built in such a way that nobody hut ourselves can see <>to the garden of Mount Laurel." To be Continued.