The "Yellow Streak."

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 4, Issue 125, 24 December 1915, Page 3 (Supplement)

The "Yellow Streak."

!' By ' CECILY KENNETH

(Copyright.) i Audrey Strutham's pale face grew flushed with pleasure as *he looked out on to the broad expanse of ocean which glistened like a mass of molten silver before her. In the past her life had not always been cast in such pleasant places; but i as she inhaled the pure, bracing se:i ! air through the open window of the ' fashionable Scarborough hydro at which she had just arrived, she felt that her • present good fortune was but a forecast of a very different future. | With a sigh erf pleasure the girl : went back to the wicker chair on which | she had been sitting, picked up a j brown paper covered nnnu6cript on which was written, "The Favesdrop- | pers a Three-act Play," and again j tried to study her part. | For years she had been dragging out a tired and hopeless existence in small provincial touring companies, until, by ' a lucky chance, she happened to catch the eye of a successful playwright, and was at once taken up by him to create the name-part of his new play, "The Eavesdroppers." It was at his sugges- I tion, also that she was now recuperating from the strain of overwork before ' she commenced rehearsals in London. ' Presently she got up, put the manu- j script away, and prepared to go in search of tea. "Come along, Wuzzy," she said, ' and a small white Pomeranian dog rose from the depths of an easy chair, and ' followed her mistress downstairs. Audrey learned that tea would be ! served under the trees by the tennis courts, and there the manageress, seeing that she was a stranger, kindly introduced her to several people who were watching the games. "See that Miss Stratham gete some tea presently, won't you, Mr Lovelli"' she said to a young man in flannels, who immediately, to Audrey's amusement, took her under his wing. "Like to see the pelargoniums, or the rhododendrons, or whatever it is that they call those things here in the conservatory?" he asked "No, thank you; I think I'll just 6it here for a time."

"Wall, perhaps it is a bit too hot to wander about," he agreed; "any anyway, kere'6 the tea just arriving. I'll fetch you a cup." Lovell found himself besieged by inquiries as to who the pretty girl with the dog was. "Never you mind," he answered, coolly; 'she's my property. Mrs Connaught gave her to me, and I'm just getting her 6ome tea." "Be a pal and introduce me. You'll be playing tennis yourself after tea—you old dog in the manger," said a young Hercules with laughing blue eyes. "Not if I know it!" exclaimed Lovell, commandeering a cup of tea and a filate of cucumber sandwiches intended or someone else, and beating a hasty retreat with them. "Rotter!" called the young Hercules after him, Lovell found Audrey surrounded by a group of girls, all admiring her dog. "Ripping little beggar!" he remarked, handing the tea. "Does it do any tricks?" Whereupon Audrey made the mite go through her repertoire, in which "dying for the King" was the first, and "saying prayers" the last act. "Hello, here's Leonard Hamilton!" called Lovell, as a tall, serious-look-ing man approached the group. "May I introduce her?" he asked under his breath. "He's an awful brainy chap—writes books, and all that sort of thing." Aubrey nodded, and, as she gave her hand to the newcomer, she felt that here was someone with whom she had something in common; someone with a purpose as serious as her own, as far removed from these butterfly revellers in interest, as she herself. Instinctively she knew that 'the strength, steadfastness, and, honesty printed in his face was the outward expression of a mind intrinsically noble. Here, she felt, was a man that a woman could trust implicitly. "Why weren't you playing to-day ill the tournament, Mr Hamilton " asked an athletic looking girl in the shortest possible of 6hort tweed skirts, Hamilton's dark face lit up as lie turned to the speaker and Audrey found herself wondering why the smile of a man ordinarily grave seemed so much more fascinating than that of an ever-joyous person. "Oh, you see, I am here to work as well as to play," he said; "and today work had the strongest pull." "But you'll play after tea?" she asked. Hamilton's gaze rested for the fraction of a second on Audrey's golden head before he replied: "No; I feel lazy now, and shall just sit and slack till dinner." When Lovell returned from the tennis courts, flushed with victory, he found Audrey and his friend still where lie had left them. "The dressing bell rang about five minutes ago," he remarked, suggestively. "Oh, did it?" said Audrey with a start. "1 didn't notice." "Nor I," added Hamilton. "Yes, you look as if you were getting on jolly well together," replied Lovell, in an aggrieved tone. And Audrey laughed. "Very well, thank you," said Hamilton, with a gleam of amusement. "Conversation with Miss Stratham is at once restful and stimulating. She makes me feel as if I had known hor all my life, and yet, queerly enough, 1 make ten fresh discoveries about her to the square minute." "Do you know, that's just what I feel about you," said Audrey. And then she added, somewhat hastily, "I must go and dress now." As she crossed the lawn Wuzzy scrambled from under the low chair, and bounded after her. Hamilton suddenly clutched. Lovell by the arm. "Did you see that dog?" he asked, breathlessly. "Of course 1 did; I'm not blind. What's the matter?"

Ho stared at his companion in astonishment, for his face was transformed by some emotion that might have been either fear or rage. "I thought they didn't allow dog.s here,"' said Hamilton, 'it must go. 1 .shall complain to the management." "Don't be a fool," said the other. "You can't do that. It is Miss Stratham's dog, and she'll leave if you do. Sho told my sister that it had been her ohly friend for the last four years, and had never been separated from her for a slnglo day during that \mo.'-' For a moment Hamilton, gazed at his friend in "battled' (science, andj then, making a'gesture of impotence, strode into the house.. Audrey was late l'o/ breakfast tho next mtfuiqg; bu> Love}) had, waited

for her before commencing. She was conscious of a thrill of disappointment, however, when she noticed that one breakfast had already been eaten at their table. "Hamilton feeds early," Lovell remarked a 6 if in answer to her unspeken question. "He's most probably writing away at that little table in the south window of the drawing-room. By the way, there's a splendid band here. Yesterday they played the overture to Tannhauser. Will you come and hear what they are doing this morning?" "1 should love to," Bald Audrey "Do you know," went on Lovell, 'such an extraordinary thing happened when I went into the drawing-room. Wuzzy was barking at Hamilton who was crouched up against the wall in a corner looking a pitiable object with sheer terror. His face was ghastly, and when 1 picked up the little brute he just rushed from the room as if there had been a whole menagerie of wild beasts at his heels. Fancy that fellow having a yellow streak. He absolutely sickened met" The girl stared at her informant in dismay: but swiftly a hope sprang up within her that Lovell had exaggerated or misrepresented this scene, and she became inwardly furious with the man who could try to betray his friend. "Oh, everyone has a cowardice of some kind or other," she said, carelessly; "mine's bluebottles. Do you mind if I don't go with you to hear the band to-day. I've remembered a letter I have to write."

Later on, however, Audrey went off alone, and ensconced herself in sheltered seat where she could hear the music. I "Gpod morajing," sajid a familiar voice, and Hamilton stood beside her. 1 His face looked strong and resolute, and, meeting hie eyes, she felt ashamed of the credence she had given to Loveil's story. "I thought you worked in the mornings " she said; and his face clouded tor a moment. "Something happened that made me disiniclined tor work," he said. | So this, then, was the explanation of . the whole thing. Audrey felt sympa- ' thetically that a barking dog, when one was working at high pressure, was I likely to induce a state of nervous 1 rage i that could easily be mistaken for fear. i To atone for misjudging him, she ques- ; tioned him adroitly about the book he ! was writing. "It's nearly finished now," he said, " and 1 wrote it simply because i want, ed to —not because i thought it itutuu sell, or because it was commissioned, or j lor any ot the other reasons that generally induce a journalist to write, iv ' came white-hot out ot my heart and brain without hope of reward, or tear ot consequence, and it doesn't deal with pretty, puny sentiments, but wan real Jite as 1 see it and know it. But please tell me something about yourself." It was not until they rose to go that Hamilton'!* luck deserted him, for Wuzzy, sunning herself at a little distance, jumped up, and recognised him lor the man she had successfully intimidated that morning, with the usual bullying instinct ot thtt small dog, flew at him, yapping maliciously. In an instant Hamilton's face had undergone a horrible change. He became livid with fear, and backed against a tree in an endefavour to retreat from his small tormentor. "Please call your dog away," he begged hoarsely, and as the girl picked up her pet she turned from him with ul-conccaled contempt. After that incident Audrey saw as little of Hamilton as possible. Indeed, dinner-time wa9 her only opportunity of meeting him, for he seemed to avoid her as much as she did him. From his window he sometimes saw her setting out for expeditions with Lovell, and he groaned in spirit, for he would have given ten yeans of his life to have blotted the memory of his cowardice from her mind.

One afternoon, when a stiff gale was blowing, Audrey was seated with Lovell hi a sheltered nook on the. cliffs, tho inevitable Wuzzy by her side, when they caught eight of Hamilton returning from a solitary walk. "I can't make that chap out," said her companion, when Hamilton had pasted; "he's quite changed lately. He used to dance and play tennis, and do everything that everyone else does, and now one hardly sees him. " "I expect he's working hard," remarked Audrey, in a tone that she hoped was oft-hand. "Why, where's Wuzzy ?" she added, for during a slight lull in the gale the dog had wandered away, and was now to be seen on the vei'y edge of the cliff.

Almost as she snqkc a sudden squall lifted the tiny animal from its feet and carried it over the cliff. It* an instant Novell had rushed to the spot, and. throwing himself flat on the ground, peered over the edge at a little white o,bje*s a few feet below, which seemed to be clinging to the bheer face of the cliff. He drew back ty find Audvey beside him.

"Save her!" cried the girl, pitcously. "It would be tempting Providence]!" he replied, and then added angrily, when she implored him again, "You can't expect me to throw away my life for a dog!"

Then Audrey understood that she could look for no help from him, and, suddenly remembering that Hamilton had just passed, she ran swiftly after him.

as she caught him up she cried incoherently that "she" had fallen over the cliff, andi that he must " save her.' Without wasting words Hamilton ran back and found Lovell still peering into space. Hamilton threw himseu down and looked over ; but it was some seconds before he awoke to the tact that it was not a woman who was in danger, at> he had supposed, but the little dog waich had been so much his enemy. He forgot all that, howqver; tor the helplessness of the poor little animal, clinging for its lite to the narrow ledge ol rock below, drew forth all the chivalry of his nature. then, giving Audrey his cap, he lowered himself over the edge ol the cliff, and, in spite of the unabated violence of the wind, managed to drop on to the tiny ledge where to uzzy was crouching. The watchers above saw him flatten himself against the cliff, and with infinite difficulty raise the dog to the level of his chest, and button his coat ov»r it. Then he cautiously looked about for a way to return, but to his dismay could find none. Suddenly, in moving, his foot biii ped, and, with unspeakable horror, Audrey saw him fall, and only save himself by clutching at the led** on which he had been standing, where he now hung suspended by his arms. " I'm going for help," said Lovell. "you stay here and shout to him to hang on." It seemed 1 ours to the terrified girl before Lovell came back with a man who brought with lum a rope. In the meantime Hamilton's face had grows white and drawn with the terrible strain, and his eyes we re shut. Audrey knew instinctively that he only kept himself from lapsing into unconsciousness by an almost super-human effort of will.

With some difficulty they managed to drop the noose of the rope over Hamilton's head, and, with a last effort, he grasped it, and relinquished his hold on the ledge, jerked his arms through the noose, swinging limp and lifeless into space immediately afterwards. They drew him up, and when he opened his eyes it was to find the girl chafing his hands. Suddenly Wuzzy, who, lifted from her rescuer's coat, had cowered on.the ground unnoticed, gave a little yelp of pain. " Why, the poor little beggar'e broken her leg!" said Hamilton, suddenly sitting up and looking at the dog. Then, while Audrey looked on wondermgly, he took the little creature firmly between his knees, tore a handkerchief into ribbons, and, with the cover of a book which he had in his pocket, ')ound up tlie dog's injured limb. When he looked up and saw the won. dcr m the girl's eyes, the significance of the scene strue-; him for the first time. 4 I —l believe tLc curse has been lifted from me,' - *>? f>«»'d. And then, in a few broken snitences, he explained bow, having nevly been bitten when a child by a mad dog, he had since then been terrifies! at the mere sight of a dog. When he had finished Hamilton looked up, and saw that her face was buried in her hands. "Why, you're—you're not crying!" he exclaimed. "N—no," answered Audrey, looking away. "But you wire," he said, trying to see her averted lace. "Well, only'a i ttle," she said, making a brave eifoit to smile while the tears Kuued down her face faster than ever, The sight was too much for his selfcontrol. "My darling, toll ine what it is?" he cried/ seizing her hands. "Tell me what has made you so unhappy?" "I am not unhappy. I—l'm very glad," sobbed Audrey. "Yes; glad that you weren't killed, and—and glad that you've told me what you have." "Do you mean that you were ".'lying because—because it means SQ much to you? Dear heart, look at me." She had turned her head again, knowing that her eyes were traitorously telling him of her love. ' "Look at me!" he exclaimed imperiously, and raised her head until her eves were on a level with his own. 'There was only one way of ascape, sud Audrey took it—she hid her burni g face on his hreast. The End.