The Gold Magnet

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 25, 21 April 1927, Page 16

The Gold Magnet

By

T.C. Bridges

) Author of " The Whip Hand," Price of Liberty," " The Home Her Fathera," &c., &c.

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS CHAPTERS I. to Hi.—a. reroclous face, pressed against the window of a train, frightens a mysterious passenger, Stuart Eger ton, and just afterwards the train is wrecked. Bruce Carey gets Egerton out of the wreck, but the man Is dying. He gets Bruce to promise that he will deliver it bag which contains an invention to his daughter, Silvia. James Lurgan, who has ruined Bruce’s half-brother, «tlso wants the invention. Bruce finds an American friend. Randolph Colt. The motor in which they are travelling to Silvia’s cottage is held up by armed men. CHAPTERS 111. to Vlll—Having no alternative, Bruce hands over the bag. After the interruption the two men reach Silvia’s home. When Bruce tells her of the robbery of the invention she says it is useless without the directions, which are in her possession. When Bruce is returning from a visit to Silvia Lurgan steps out of a wood. He proposes a half share in the new Gold Recovery Syndicate. Bruce tells him that he would sooner go into partnership with the devil. CHAPTERS IX. to XIII.—A strategic step is made by Claude, who cultivates the friendship of Duggan, one of Lurgan'» henchmen. Bruce sets out to make the raid on Lurgan’s place single-handed. He forces iron bars apart and gets Kgerton’s bag from the strong room. The burglary is discovered and Bruce is pursued and shot at. He trips on an obstacle and becomes unconscious. CHAPTERS XIV. to XX. —Bruce wakes up to find himself trapped. Lurgan renews his offer of a partnership and Bruce refuses though he is threatened with imprisonment not only for burglary but for manslaughter, our hero having knocked down and killed a man who tried to stop him from escaping. At the inquest the jury brings in a verdict of murder. Bruce is remanded for trial at the Assizes. Silvia is in her bed when Lurgan calls. He says thiit tile only chance of saving Bruce is to form a partnership of the three of them Though Silvia feels the hypnotic power of Lurgart she refuses his offer. CHAPTER XXI. to XXIV.: Bruce comes up for trial. Lurgan gives his damning evidence. Bruce’s barrister tells the whole story of the magnet. The weak points in the defence are attacked and the jury brings in a verdict of guilty and Bruce is sentenced to seven years’ penal servitude. Silvia bears up bravely and all Bruce’s friends decide to do their utmost to get him released. If they could find the man who stole the bag they realise that he would be a great help. CHAPTERS XXV. to XXIX: The conference of Lurgan, Orme, Grane and stroud has just decided that Silvia will have to be held in order that they may get the papers, when the others discover that Stroud is a fake. With the aid of a smoke-bomb, the masquerader —Colt—gets away. Silvia visits Bruce in prison and he has enough courage to tell her he loves her. The engagement is celebrated while the warder turns his back. Lurgan renews his offer of assistance, Silvia’s refusal wins her the villain’s admiration. Afterwards she suggests that if he Should find the witnesses of the robbery of the handbag, an arrangement might be come to. Lurgan says this is impossible. CHAPTER XXX.—While motoring to Dartmoor, Silvia and Claude help to sa\e

the life of Jack Trant, a warder at the gaol, who had fallen into a torren. They accept the hospitality of the Trants.

Silvia sat silent as the car, on second gear, climbed the long hill, but her eyes never left the prison. Claude felt uncomfortable as he watched her set face. “It’s not as bad inside as it looks from the outside,” he ventured at last. "It is horrible—horrible,” said Silvia, with a shudder. When at last they reached Rundlestone, the spot where the Two Bridges Road cuts into the main road from Princetown to Tavistock, she asked Claude to pull up, and for quite a minute gazed down upon the mass of bare, granite buildings with their long rows of narrow, barred windows. At last she spoke. “He mustn’t stay there,” she said, in a low, strained voice. “Claude, we must have him out.” “I wish we could,” said Claude earnestly. "We will,” said Silvia, with fierce decision. “If there is no other way of freeing him he must escape.” CHAPTER XXXI.—THE MAN WHO FISHED. On the following Friday morning Silvia and Claude stood on the platform at Tavistock Station waiting for the London train on which Claude was to return to his flat and his work. “I shall miss you badly, Claude,” said Silvia. “Me, too.” replied Claude. “But still I am not worrying much about you, old thing. The Trants will look after you all right.” *

"They are dears,” said Silvia warmly. “I did have luck meeting them.” “Put a P. in front of it,” grinned Claude. “It was pluck, not luck; you did it all, Silvia, and anything you get out of it you jolly well deserve. But here’s the train. Bye-bye and keep me posted as to all that happens.” The train drew up and Claude slung his suitcase into a first smoker and followed it. He leaned out. “Silvia, you will be careful,” he begged, speaking in a low voice. “I don’t want you to follow Bruce into quod.” “I promise to be careful. Claude,” said Silvia gravely. “But I have quite made up my mind.” “You will wire me 'if you want help?” “Indeed I will, and thank you so much for leaving the car with me. It may make all the difference.” The guard’s whistle shrilled. The trained moved out and Silvia stood and waved until it and Claude were out of sight. Then she went out to the car and drove back through Tavistock and up the steep ascent leading to the moor. This Friday was as fine as the Tuesday had been wet, and the great wild moor basked in warm sunshine, while the clean, cool air was like wine. Yet Silvia had no eyes for the beauties which surrounded her, and her charming face was clouded with anxiety. What Claude had said about the Trants was perfectly true. The whole family, mother, daughter and son, were devoted to her and Silvia felt as if she had known them for

years instead of days. Jack in particular was always trying to show how grateful he was, and Silvia felt that there was nothing she could not ask of him. Even to smuggling' letters into the prison for Bruce. But here —here was the trouble. A warder, as Silvia now knew, takes an oath on entering the prison service by which, among other things, he promises not to “traffic” as it is called. And Silvia, who liked and admired the fine >oung fellow, had a feeling that she would be doing something very wrong in persuading him to break his oath. Yet, on the other hand, if she was to ‘make the attempt to free Bruce it was absolutely necessary to get in touch with him, and how to do that without Jack’s help was a problem beyond solution. This was what she was thinking as she drove slowly across the sun-lit moor, and her head ached with a vain attempt to solve the puzzle. Reaching the great quarry at Merivale she cut out her engine, and applying her brakes, coasted slowly down the steep hill towards the bridge across the Walkham river. As she neared the bridge, which is narrow and crooked, she caught sight of, a man fishing in the pool below, a big man dressed in rough tweed who was casting with a light fly rod over the clear stickles. He, hearing the car, looked round and Silvia saw that he was Lurgan. A curious feeling of fascination seemed to numb her, and almost in spite of herself she pulled up. Lurgan reeled in his line and turning, strode towards the road. As he came he lifted his cap. “Good morning, Miss Egerton,” he said in the most matter-of-fact way. “I was hoping to meet you.” With a violent effort Silvia shook off the temporary paralysis which affected her. “You are the last person I wish to meet,” she replied curtly. “Why have you followed me down here ?” Lurgan glanced round, but the road in both directions was empty. “I might answer that the Moor is free to all,” he said, with his cynical smile. “But I will not make that commonplace excuse. I did follow you because I wish to speak to you about Mr. Carey.”

“l heard all that I wished to hear from you on the occasion of our last meeting," said Silvia coldly. “You refused my offer and I refused yours. There is nothing more to say.” “Pardon me, there is more to say. You are not the woman to allow the

man you wish to marry to rot in that stone cage up there. All your thoughts are set upon freeing him. I ask you again to consider my offer of evidence for an appeal.” Silvia’s blue eyes flashed. “Can’t you take no for an answer?” she asked scornfully. “Ha,ve you not perjured yourself enough already? Move aside, please, I wish to drive on.” “Wait.” Lurgan’s harsh voice held a sudden note of desperation. “Wait, I have another suggestion to make. Suppose I offer to get him out of prison.” With her hand on the gear lever Silvia paused. “What do you mean?” she asked sharply. Lurgan glanced round again, then spbke in a lower voice. “I mean that I would procure Mr. Carey’s escape in return for your promise to hand over those papers.” “What —and you take all the profits of my father’s invention?” “No, I will work it, but give you a written agreement to pay you half the profits. It is obvious that, as an escaped prisoner, Mr. Carey would have to go abroad, and so he himself could not work the invention.” Silvia was silejit. Her heart was pounding. Was this the solution of her problem? Undoubtedly Lurgan, with his knowledge of the underworld of crime, was* in a far better position than she to arrange Bruce’s escape; yet on the other hand, she knervv only too well how little she could trust the man. Once more Lurgan showed his old quality of thought-reading. “You do not trust me; you think that I may get him out, take the papers, and then give him up again.” ‘That is exactly what I was thinking,” replied Silvia. “You forget.” said Lurgan, “you forget that I should be breaking the law by getting him out and risking imprisonment myself. It follows, then, that if I gave him up he, or you, could incriminate me. My only safety in the matter would be to get him as possible. Surely you can see that.” "I see that I should need to think the matter over very carefully bsrfore making up my mind,” replied Silvia, with decision. Lurgan bowed. “Write to me at the Plume Hotel at Princetown as soon as you have decided,” he said. Silvia fixed her eyes on Lurgan’s face, but there was nothing to be gained from those hard. impassive features. “I will do so,” she said steadily, and drove away. As the car crept up the tremendous steep on first gear, Silvia was think-

ing hard, yet quite xmable to make up her mind. Usually her head was clear enough, but now she felt oddly confused. At last she gained the top at Rundlestone, where, from a height of fifteen hundred feet, she could see miles over the surrounding country. In front lay the prison which even the sweet summer sunshine failed to redeem from stark hideousness. To her right were the prison quarries, to the left the prison farm. Twelve had just struck, and the working parties were being marched in to their mid-day meal. There was a tramp of heavilynailed boots on the road behind her, and Silvia pulled out and stopped to allow a long file of convicts to pass. They walked two and two, their shovels over their shoulders. At their head was a principal warder, behind walked two younger warders, and out on either side rode mounted civic guards carrying carbines. As Silvia watched the party pass ’suddenly her heart began to thump so as to almost suffocate her, for there, near the head of the drab-clad’ column, was Bruce himself—Bruce in muddy canvas breeches, wearing a blue-ancLred striped slop jacket and with a hideous Glengarry cap on his head. His shoulders- were bent, and he looked thin, tired, and utterly depressed. He never even raised his head as he passed the car or saw who Silvia sat as if frozen. Never in all her life, not even when she had heard of was sitting in it. sentence—had she felt such pain. She waited until the column had passed, then mechanically restarted her car and turned down the triangle road toward Two Bridges. Long before she had reached Powder Mills her mind was made up. She would accept Lur - gan’s offer, and she herself would make sure—very sure—that he carried out his contract. CHAPTER XXXII.—GETTING READY Jack Trant came to Silvia where she was sitting on a boulder by the little stream which tinkled past Powder Mills Farm. It was Saturday afternon, a, week after Claude’s departure. Silvia, who was reading a letter, slipped it away as the boy approached and, look-, ing up, saw at once that there was a worried look in his fresh young face. “Nothing wrong, Jack, I hope,” she said quickly. “Not with us, Miss Silvia”—they all called her Miss Silvia at the farm, and by this time the Trants knew of the reason why she was on the moor. Jack paused, looking much embarrassed.

“Tell me,” said Slrvla quietly. Jack cleared his throat. “It’s at the prison, miss,” he said, then stopped again. “Nothing wrong with Mr. Carey?” asked Silvia anxiously. “No, he’s all right, miss. There’s something queer on. That big gentleman. The one as is staying at the Plume. I heard him talking to Kisbee last night.” “Who is Kisbee?” “A warder, miss, and a queer one for all his smug ways. You see it was like this. I’d lost a coin off my watch chain, an old silver piece as Dad gave me before he died, and I reckoned I’d dropped it in the bushes up by the quarry when I was on duty, so as soon as I was off I went up to see if I could find it, and while I was groping round among the gorse I heard voices, and one was Kisbee’s. It beat me to think what Kisbee could be doing up there that time of the evening, so I stayed quiet and listened.” He paused and got rather to do, Miss Silvia,” he went on, “but now I am glad I did it for they were talking about Mr. Carey, and from what I gathered the big gent was asking Kisbee to take a letter to Mr. Carey.” “Was that all you heard,” asked Silvia. “No, miss,” said Jack reluctantly. “I reckon they are fixing things up to get Mr. Carey out.” He stopped and Silvia did some hard and rapid thinking. Suddenly she looked up. “Jack, if you knew a prisoner was trying to escape, would you consider it your duty co give information?” Jack twisted his big hands uncomfortably. “Why yes, miss, it would be my duty.” “But suppose you knew that prisoner was innocent?” “That might make a difference,” Jack allowed. Silvia spoke. “Since you know so much already, I am going to tell you everything, and when you have heard it all you must just say right out what you mean to do about it. Sit down here and listen.” Most of us can talk well on a subject about which we feel deeply, but Silvia had a gift of description 'and the extra advantage of a charming voice. At any rate Jack Trant sat perfectly still and almost breathless, drinking in every word. “That’s all,” said Silvia at last, “now what are you going to do, Jack?” (To be Continued.)

Big Fish. —While fishing off Cape Brett on Tuesday, Mr. P. Gardner, of Kamo, landed a mako shark, 4771 b, and Mr. W. Baker, of Russell, a swordfish, zaaib.