Catching Up

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 241, 31 December 1927, Page 15

Catching Up

By

Henry C. Rowland.

Author of The Dear Eccentric.” " The Pcdlax, Dud»,” &c., Acc. f

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS ..Chapters I and ll.—lt is Mrs. Grenfell Ormes’s At Home day. Mr. Orme returns home and views his daughter, Isabel, among the guests. He notes the daring nature of her costume, or rather, the lack of costume. Afterwards he owns to wife and daughter that lie is worried over financial matters. lie tells them that Je .rr y Heming has just missed being a millionaire. A friend of his, named Hazard, hailing from Kansas, came of fS® a short time ago, and, being in the thick of the lighting, made his will. His four beneficiaries were: Jerry Heming, ‘ l . Lieutenant Steele, Raymond Wagner, his buddy, and a Salvation Army girl. Aow he has got through the fighting, and on the day the armistice was signed, he i efused four million dollars for his patch of Prairie said to be floating on a sea of oil. The Ormes go to the Opera Comique. Lieut. Calvert Steele, A.E F is now in Paris on furlough. He goes alone to the Opera Comique and sits in the next box to the Ormes. 1-Ie sees Isabel,

recognises the face, but cannot recall how and where he has met her. He suddenly recollects. It was on the beach at Jean-de-Luz; he, a boy of twelve, rescued a pretty, little girl from death by drowning. That was Isabel. He overhears that Isabel is to ride with Mr. Almturn next morning, and he is at the Avenue du Bois to time. He watches them ride away. Chapters 111 " and IV.—Lieut. Calvert Steele has an appointment with his company commander, Captain Gerald Homing, to meet him in front of Fouquet’s. They discuss tho affairs of Private Henry Hazard, the two of them being his coheirs, along with Agnes, the Salvation Army girl, and Raymond Wagner. An American officer, bearing the insignia of major, walks up. Ho requests their presence to report to the chief army intelligence officer. They have to account lor themselves the previous night. Private Hazard has been murdered in bed :i,t his hotel a little after midnight. Tht* intelligence officer, Major White, and Calvert Steele call on the Ormes. Answering the questions of tlie intelligence officer, Isabel provides a perfect alibi for Calvert Steele. Major White departs. Mrs. Orme, her daughter, and Steele, converse. Calvert tells them that Gerald Heming is unable to prove an alibi, and has been ordered back to camp pending investigation. Agnes was companion to Lady Audrey Chatteris, and was in that lady’s villa at the time of the murder. Raymond Wagner was out in camp. Qalvert has an invitation to attend the Ormes’s At Home.

Chapters V and Vl.—The provost marshall tells Lieut. Steele that Hazard’s case is purely an American affair. He details the nature of the wounds over Hazard’s heart. He asks Calvert whether Heming had ever shown any love interest in Agnes. Steele admits, that they all flirted with her more or less. Afterwards Calvert goes to interview Heming, whom he finds in a hard and reckless mood. Jerry asks Lieuf:. Steele to go to the station to meet hWs sister, Juanita, just arriving from England. In looks she is a combination of Ajtenus and Diana. Lieut. Steele decides to interview tho American lawyer, Mr. Douglas Harker, to whom Heming Tiad taken Hazard on the mornng of Idhe tragedy. Mr. Harker receives him courteously and they discuss Hazard and his affairs. The lawyer owns that he thinks' a woman is at th© bottom of it, and lie begins to ask questions concerning the woman, Agnes. The telephone t*ell rings. Mr. Harker says that Agnes has made an appointment, and is here, now. CHAPTER, VII. The young woman who immediately entered Mr. Harker’fe office was quite unlike the usual Jtypo of Salvation Army war worker; "very young—which is to say about, twenty-two—very pretty in a fresh provocative way, she gave an impression which was anything but pitiable. Modestly but smartly dressed, Agnes might easily have passed as ajn enthusiastic American girl from sqime New England village, touring Frjance for the first time with her father;, the rich proprietor of a glove or shape factory. Calvert did, not know very much about her hisjfcory, except that she had gone to New York from a small Maine village with ambitions to engage in a dramatic career, and that, her small legacy she had been rescued from starvation or worse catastrophe by a woman of the Salvation Army and had 'Unlisted in its ranks at a moment when the organisation was

destined to become gloriously immortalised for its heroic work in the World War.

She looked now surprised, pleased, and a little embarrassed on finding Calvert in consultation with Mr. Harker, and came to the point of her errand with a rather breathless haste. Mr. Harker wished her good morning in his courtly Southern way, drawing up a large armchair in which she seated herself. “I had to come to ask if you have any news, Mr. Harker,” said Agnes. as yet,” Mr. Harker answered, “but my American correspondent cables that he is on the job, so I should get a first report in two or three days. In the meantime if you are in any pressing need of funds I shall be glad to advance what you may require, j A sudden flush spread over Agnes’s pink and white skin, which was rather that of an English or Irish girl in its delicacy of colouring. She was really an uncommonly pretty girl, and of a type quite peculiar to a region which has preserved more than any other the racial features of its early colonists. It was now evident to Calvert that she hotly resented the lawyer’s assumption that her errand was one of pecuniary profit. “My word, Mr. Tlarker,” she said, “you don’t think I came here to ask about money!” “I beg your pardon, Miss Agnes,” said Mr. Harker with a suavity of tone markedly in contrast with that used in his man-to-man’s talk with Calvert, “but what did you come for then?” “Because I thought that there was something I ought to tell you,” Agnes answered, a little defiantly. “Has it any bearing on the murder of Hazard?” the lawyer asked. Agnes nodded. The set of her chin, the very angle at which she held her head and the expression of her face contained all of that rather stupid • superciliousness of the rural young American girl who, owing to some fortuitous circumstance, has found herself for a lapse of time treated with a consideration never previously imagined, and seems to feel therefore that she owes it to herself to extract from those with whom she comes subsequently in contact a respect and admiration which she has come to believe her due. Calvert, watching her curiously, thought that he understood. Her© was a decidedly spoiled girl to be treated with, but not a bad one. The ups and downs of Agnes’s recent experiences had no doubt reacted upon her rather unintelligent nature just as they happened to be at the moment’s ups or downs. In distress she might be humble as a Yiddish refugee; in success proud and self-assertive as a sultan’s favourite. Coming into a small legacy from an uncle who was a retired sea captain, she might have left Damariscotta, Maine, with a triumphant exit of local belle about to take her proper place on the dramatic stage or film screen. Failing in this and brought to the verge of misery, her self-assurance would have become a purely negative quality. Rescued by the Salvation Army, then put in a position perhaps the most spectacular at the moment which girlish imagination could conceive, that of cheering on th© fighting men at what the French ! called tho Front of the Front, this stimulation had been retroactive, and she had made gloriously good. Followed another turning down—the peace reaction and a patronage by a distinguished Englishwoman who had in sight for her nothing more stimulating than the rather uninspiring drudgery entailed in the care of war orphans. And next a sensational and tragic development by which she found herself suddenly the heiress of great wealth. Mr. Harker, shrewd judge of human nature, looked at her fixedly and said with a sudden departure from his ironic courtesy: “Am I to understand that you can contribute any information which might clear suspicion from Captain Heming?” “Not —not exactly, Mr. Harker,” said she, “but it might—sort of divide the responsibility.” “If there’s anything you know about this case, then out with it!” Agnes looked appealingly at Calvert. The colour went out of her face, and her lips trembled a little. “It’s—it’s about Raymond Wagner,” she faltered. “Well, what about Raymond?” demanded Mr. ITarker. “Ho was in Paris that night,” said Agnes. “Indeed! Well, suppose you tell us all about it.” “I didn’t say anything about it, because I knew that he was absent without leave and I didn’t want to get him into trouble. I answered only the questions asked me.” “Quite right and most unusual,” said Mr. Harker, dryly. “Young ladies giving testimony are apt to tell too much. But this is different. Suppose you tell us all you know.” “Lady Audrey went out to dinner and the opera,” said she. “There was nothing for me to do, so I decided to go to the movies—the Lutetia on the Avenue Wagram.” “You went out alone?” asked Mr. Harker. “Yes. The show was over about ten and when I came out I met Harry Hazard and Raymond Wagner. They asked me to go with them somewhere, and as I knew they were nice boys and there seemed no harm in it I walked down the Champs-Elysees with them to Fouquet’s. There was a big crowd at the tables in front, and before we had sat there very long Harry began to get noisy. They had both been drinking before I met them, and they had two bottles of champagne while we were there. Then Hazard began to tell us about oil being struck on his land and the millions he would be worth and what he was going to do.” “Was that the first you’d both heard of it?” Mr. Harker interrupted. “No, sir. Captain ITeming had taken me to lunch the day before and told me about it, and Hazard must have told Raymond already. I finally got angry with Harry because he got foolish.” “In what way?” asked Mr. Harker. “Oh, asking mo to marry him and help spend the money and scarcely knowing what he said.” “Did Raymond seem drunk?” “No, sir; but then Raymond was a Chicago boy and used to it. Harry was just like one of our Maine fishermen when there’s been a bumboat hanging round. He didn’t know what he was saying. Then Raymond told m© that he was absent without leave. He said he’s sneaked out of camp and got a ride into Paris on a French army motor truck. I began to get

worried about them both, because Harry was getting drunker and drunker, so that people were beginning to look at him, and I knew that Raymond would get in trouble unless back in camp for reveille. So I suggested that we get in a taxi and. ride round, then take Harry back to his hotel.” Agnes paused and looked apologetically at Mr. Harker. “I just could’nt let those two boys keep on the way they were going if I could stop it,” said she. “Quite right, my dear,” said the lawyer. “What then?” “We got into a taxi, and as soon as we started I whispered to Raymond to persuade Harry to go back and go to bed. I suppose he thought I wanted to get rid of Harry because ho was drunk, so he did as I asked. Harry was too far gone to make any objections, and when we’d stopped in front of the hotel he got out and said good-night and went in.” “Raymond helped him, I suppose,” said Mr. Harker, casually. “No, Mr. Harker.” Agnes, who appeared to have regained her entire self-possession, looked him straight in the eyes. “Raymond offered to help him, but Harry got angry and said that he was all right and went in alone. He was unsteady on his feet, but he got along all right. Then, as I felt that I’d got Harry safely back, I persuaded Raymond to return to camp. He didn’t want to go, but he finally agreed. The taxi-driver spoke English and I told him to take us to the nearest station for a train to Versailles. I was afraid that Raymond might not really go, so when we got to the station, which was Invalides, I got on the train with him and went as far as Grenelie, where I changed for an Auteuil train, which took me back to Ranelagh.” “You are surely a good friend,” said Mr. Harker. "And what time was it when you left Hazard at his hotel?” “It must have been about eleven o’clock, Mr. Harker.” “And are you quite sure that Raymond went on with the train?” “I know he did,” Agnes answered. “He got to camp all right, and that’s just the trouble. The sentry caught him getting back into barracks, but let him off because they’d been through some pretty hard fighting together and he didn’t want to get him into trouble. That’s why I’ve come to tell you about It, so that in case it should be proved that Raymond was in Paris that night I can account for where he was all the time.” “Now what do you think of that, Steele?” the lawyer asked. “Here’s a perfectly good innocent fool of an American girl coming forw'ard with a bit of testimony which might land her in Saint Lazare and this man Raymond Wagner in the Sante in just about two seconds. And yet we know’ what she’s telling us is perfectly true. He whirled upon Agnes and stood for a moment regarding her a good deal as a sorely exasperated but indulgent parent might regard his little girl. “Agnes,” said he, “you are sure to be a very bright child. You did right in coming here and telling me your story. But listen to me, honey—don’t you darst open your mouth to another living soul! They’d say sure as shooting that you waited out in front of the hotel while Raymond wrent in and killed Hazard. You hear me, child ?”