THE LUCK OF THE LINDSAYS

New Zealand Times, Volume LIII, Issue 12619, 2 December 1926, Page 4

THE LUCK OF THE LINDSAYS

(PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.)

BY

MARGARET TYNDALE.

[COPYRIGHT.!

CHAPTER XXlV.—Continued. He paid his bill and went out into the open air feeling in quite good spirits; but before he had gone two yards lie saw the thick-set figure of doger Alainwaring confronting him. “Ail, my friend, I thought we should have the pleasure of meeting one fine day,” said Alainwaring with a harsh laugh. “I’m in luck’s wav, apparently.” “ r'ou won’t be if you’re not careful,” • returned Gordon .sullenly, who at that moment would 'have willingly done anything to rid himself of this man’s presence. “Perhaps you don’t know it, but your little game is played out—there’s been a family re-union and I’m on the Way to join in the eating of thq fatted calf.” “Family re-union? Where did vou hear that fairy-tale?’ l asked Alainwar-<-ing contemptuously. “You’ve undoubtedly been misinformed. It’s no use vour trying to bluff me. Besides. I’ve got two rather important matters to settle with you first.” Gordon looked a trifle disconcerted, for lie know quite well to what his companion was referring, and did his best to. turn the subject as quickly as possible to less dangerous topics. “Look here, Mainwaring,” he said in a conciliatory tone. “I can’t stop here all day, so it will save my breath and yours if we come to an under- . standing at once. Take my word for it—there’s no place for you in the Lindsay family now; for me—yes, because I’m a relative who can’t be turned off quite so easily.”' “You seem to forget that my relationship is quite as close as yours,” put in Alainwaring sarcastically. “Oh, no, I don’t,” returned Gordon with admirable sang froid. “What I mean is that I can almost force them in to_ accepting me. since a husband and son-in-law has more claims to consideration than a wicked uncle. Now listen to me,” he added imperturbably, as Alainwaring was about to interrupt him angrily; “as the husband Of Julia. I can force Lindsay into settling a certain income upon me, part of which l will agree to pay you in settlement of our debt. This is extremely generous of me, I think, since if you attempt to show yourself at the Priory, you will bo summarily ejected bv a trusty man-servant and get—nothing. But by agreeing to what I propose, you will get a certain income / for life without the unpleasantness of a soene at the Priory.” “Your proposnl is quite original hut decidedly ineffectual,” sneered Alainivnring. “I prefer to trust to my own ingenuity rather than yours.” He took a aim forward as If to intimate that the interview yas at an

end, but as lie did so Gordon sprang upon him, and Alainwaring experienced somewhat unpleasantly the firm grip of his fingers as Julia had unhappily done in the past. “You don’t go there if I can prevent itl” he snarled, his hold upon Afaimvaring’s throat tightening in his rage. “If you go there you’ll do for both of us, and I’m not going to stand that.” With a suddenness for which he was unprepared, Mainwqring gave him a blow in the face. Gordon staggered a little and for a moment bis opponent had the advantage, hut only for a moment. The next instant Gordon was upon him with a terrifio ferocity. Miiinwaring’s loud cries for help nt last attracted the attention of the innkeeper, _ and, together with two or three villagers who had heard the noise, he rushed out into the road to separate the two men, now struggling and swaying in all directions. But hardly had lie reached them when the hoot of a motor-horn warned him of the approach of a fast-running car round the bend of the road. The mnn shouted loudly to 1 the two combatants in the middle of the road, but neither seemed id* hoar him. There was a confused exclamation of horror from the occupants of the car. and a babel of shouts, shrieks, and groans rent the air. The chauffeur had done his best to apply the brnkes in time, but the car, like a thing demented, had sprung on—on—and over that which lay in its path.

‘‘He’s just breathing—that’s all,” said the proprietor of the inn 6ome fifteen minutes later as he calmly surveyed Gordon’e unconscious foraf, whioh he had had carried into the inn. “It’s a miracle that Mr Mainwaring wasn’t hurt. Throwed just like a shuttlecock into that there dry ditch. Well, _ you never know your luck. Who is he, anyway P” he added, cooking his thumb towards the bod and looking inquiringly at his wife. ‘‘l dunno,” was the answer. “Ho-s bin ’ere afore with Mr Mainwaring, I believe, but I never troubled to find out his name.”

Upon recovering from the slignt shock caused by his unfortunate advent into the ditch, Alainwaring had volunteered to' go and fetch a doctor, and with this apparent intention had gone off in the car which had done the mischief; for upon receiving an acceptable present from the owner, the innkeeper had cheerfully agreed to let him go on his way, since he could obviously do nothing by remaining. He left his address, however—a purely fictitious one, ns the police discovered aFterwards, n fact which cyemed to point very strongly to. the inference

that thq chauffeur driving the car was not entirely blameless in the matter of speed-limit. But half An.Jhour passed and still no doctor .arrived, and at length the innkeeper was forced to send tho maid in search of himt ' “It’s my private opinion as he’s done a bunk—the man as went to fetch ’im?” said, the, girl wisely, as she pinned on her hat at an angle of which she was totally unaware, since she did not deem the present occasion quite important enough to warrant her looking at herself in the discoloured mirror in the bar-parlour. It was not long before she returned, having met Doctor Greenwood a short distance from the inn. His examination of the injured man lasted some time, and when at length he had completed it, his face expressed what he did not waste time in saying—that Gordon’s hours on earth were numbered.

“His friends should be communicated with at onoe,” he advised, when he had heard details of the accident, “But we don’t even know his name except that he’s a friend of Air Alainyvaring’s up at the Priory,” put in the inn-keeper’s wife. “Well, we had better send to the Priory,” said the doctor. “They maybe able to enlighten us. You say that Mr Mainwaring came to fetch me?— lie may have gone on there as he couldn’t find me in the village. I expect he felt a bit rocky after his somewhat trying experience, and did’nt feel equal to returning here. I’ll write a note to Air Lindsay describing this gentleman and asking about Mr Mainwaring—if you will be kind enough to send a boy up to the Priory with it, Mrs Hogg?” The inn-keeper’s wife made no outward demur, although it was her private opinion that it was all a lot of wasted time to send for the in . man’s friends, when the chances were that lie would never regain sufficient consciousness to recognise them. Alec Lindsay read Doctor Greenwood's note with a feeling of great bewilderment, and then he handed it to his wife.

“I shouldn’t be s bit surprised if the man he describes here isn’t Stanley Gordon, Alec,” she said thoughtfully as she folded up the note. “But what were they both doing at the inn?” queried Lindsay. “It seems almost unaccountable. Anyhow, i i: better go along and investigate the matter. If Mainwaring comes during my absenoe—which I hardly , will—tell him I shall be back in about half an hour. I want to have a chat with him I”

Hurriedly putting on his hat and coat, Lindsay left the house, but not before he had cautioned Adela to say nothing of the matter to Julia, until they were definitely certain that the injured man was her vuisband.

But one -glance at the silent figure on the low bed in tho inn wag sufficient to banish Lindsay’s uncertainty, and Doctor Greenwood could not conceal his surprise when he was made awaro of the fact that the dving mir was none other than the husband of Aleo Lindsay’s daughter. “I don’t think he will regain consciousness, so it would be better if his wife is kept away altogether,” said the doctor tactfully. “A deathbed is not the place for a young, impression, able girl.”

Lindsay agreed, for he felt that Julia Had suffered enough already to he fnc-orl to endure the painful sight of this man who in life liad treated her.

so cruelly, lying there unconscious, a whiting the approach of that dark hour which was now so imminent. Aleo therefore sent a note to Adela explaining matters: he himself sat by tho dying man throughout the rest of the day. Doctor Greenwood had gone to visit his other patients, leaving word where he was to be found should he be needed. The room where Aleo Lindsay was sitting was lighted only bv an ill—smelling oil-lamp, but he did not notice it, for his thoughts were occupied with far more important matters than the trivialities of life. Suddenly a restless stir from Hie bed recalled him to the present, and he bent quickly forward in order to catch tbe almost inarticulate words that fell from Gordon’s dying lips. “Violet,” he muttered, “take care of—Julia —for my—sake—l love you—you only—” Then the voice trailed away into the "ilence. and as he sat listening to it Aleo Lindsay shivered slightly, for ho knew that he was in the dread presence of the Angel of Death. (To be concluded.)