The Green Bungalow

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 420, 31 July 1928, Page 5

The Green Bungalow

BY A POWERFUL WRITER.

By

Fred M. White.

Author of " The Crimeon BHnd. ’ Th* C»r4in»l Moth." " The Hou*e on the River." &c., kc '

CHAPTER XXll.—Continued. "We’ll just sit down here and have a smoke and a drink,” Shute said, “until it gets properly dark, and we can move all that stuff without attracting attention. The ear will be quite safe where it is, and it is just as well we didn’t bring a chauffeur with us. You can never be too careful.” He pulled down the blinds, and turned on the light. Then he produced a cigar box and a tantalus, with some glasses and a syphon, - and placed them on the table. "We will just wait another hour,” he said. “Then back to your place in Brunswick Square for a mouthful of food, and. after that, off to London with the stuff. 1 have found the right man to buy it, at quite a good Price, and, upon my word. I am much obliged to Blythe for telling us that Fishbourne’s plate was historic.” "Yes, that was rather a good tip, wasn't it?’ Macglendy chuckled. “And there is no reason at all why he should have any share of this. At least, there is no reason why he should have a share of the money we set tram the jewels. We hack better drop the business as far as this part of the country is concerned, Shute. I don’t know why, but I have got an impression that we are being matched. It is only one of my instincts, perhaps ” “Oh, I don’t think so,” Shute said. AN hat makes you imagine that? Have Y°JJ seen anything suspicious?” ’’Well, I don’t like the way in which my wife disappeared. I know she has gone back to her own people, where she can stay, as far as I am concerned. She is not much use to me Qow, since she has got to look so old. bPt I am sure her people didn’t fetch ifI*’ 1 *’ aDC * never have had the courage to go unless somebody bad helped. That is one of the reasons why I want to start somewhere ®lse, and now' that we have got Har*Gy so securely in our hands, we shall be able to choose our own neighbourhood. By the way, what has become of young Harley?” Oh. l have turned him loose for the moment," Shute said contemptuously. “i believe he is in London. He is quite safe. He never suspected or a moment the trick we played upon him over that cocaine business, and still believes that he had some sort °f mysterious illness. Before the month is cut he will have to chuck the Army, and people will wonder

why. There will be all sorts of talk, because you never can help people talking, and you and I don’t particularly want to. Besides, he will have to leave all his clubs, and that will be the worst scandal of the lot. When people begin to cold-shoulder him, he will be pleased to fall back upon us, and then we can use him to our heart's content. Socially speaking, you cau regard Harley as dead and damned.” “Yes, that's right,” Macglendy chuckled. “It will be a fine thing to have a man with us that we can do what we like with. And the mere fact that he has any amount of money does not make the arrangement any the less desirable. I know where most of the money will be within the next 12 months." They sat there, chuckling drinking for some time, until it grew dark outside, and then Shute rose and remarked that it was time that they were moving. Saying this, he walked into the little kitchen aj the back of the sitting-room, and, removing the matting from the floor, pulled away a part of the skirting and raised three or four boards, disclosing underneath the mass of dry shingle upon Which the bungalow was built. “There never was such a hidingplace, I think,” he saiid. “All Scotland Yard might come down here and never be a bit the wiser. Now, come along,, and help to put the stones on one side.” At the end of half an hour the shingle was piled in a corner of the kitchen, and under where it had lain, . appeared a round iron lid, which was evidently the top of a hidden safe. Shute removed the lid, and plunged his hand down in the hollow circular, which was lined with steel. .Then he rose suddenly and confronted Andrew . with a face that was white and al- . most despairing. “The stuff’s gone,” he gasped. “The [ damned thing is empty. Here, come . and look for yourself.” . Macglendy almost fell over in his sickening anxiety, but it was even as -! Shute had said. The jewels and . j plate had vanished. CHAPTER XXIII.—BLYTHE'S SECRET. [ Blythe said very little more until the ? ; Hotel Metropolitan was reached, and : i he had Fishbourne comfortably seated • I in his private room discussing a

choice cigar And this was exactly what it should be, for Fishbourne had no great desire to be seen with Blythe in any of the more public apartments. He was no more of a snob than most people, but the line had to be drawn somewhere. Blythe, however, was quite aware of this, and the knowledge cost, him a pang or two. It was many years now since he had sat down with one of his own class in a purely friendly way, and the ghosts of the past, rose before him. “Now, I dare say you are wondering what all this means,’ he said, just a little uneasily. “You are puzzled to understand why, with my record, I should he interfering in your affairs. In the first place, I have already told you that. I want nothing, and that is true. Call it sentiment if you, like — you could use no better' word.” “Then there is more here than meets the eye?” “Assuredly there is. Fishbourne, I want, to speak to you as one man to ’another, and as if we were on a Deifect. equality.” “Why not?” Fishbourne said, goodnaturedly. “Why not:.? “Then I will go ahead. You are one of the few men who know my secret. It has been well kept, not for my sake, but out of consideration for one I care much for. It is part of the punishment I have to bear, and I am not. complaining; moreover, the secret is to be kept perhaps until my time comes. Then possibly I may choose to speak. Meanwhile the happiness of a certain person is in danger. Not to make a mystery of it, I mean Miss Frond. Did you know that there was an understanding between her and Roy Harley?” “Not to be certain,” Fishbourne remarked. “All the same, I am delighted to hear it. But look here — what has become of Harley? I am very concerned, about him. From what I can make out of it he has got into some deuce of a mess, and has vanished. If you can put me wise so far as he is concerned I shall be grateful.”

“As a matter of fact, Harley is jn Brighton at the present moment,” Blythe replied. “Now, if you are in no hurry, I will tell you a story that I think will interest you.” Fishhourne remarked that his time was entirely at Blythe’s disposal, and the latter went into details, telling the history of the last week or two in a v manner that aroused Fishbourne’s deepest interest..' He walked up and down the room with a cigar in his mouth that was cold without in the slightest degree being aware of the fact. “Well, I'm dashed,” he said. “So that’s the game, is it? No wonder you are interested. And you came on all this drama quite by accident. No wonder you were anxious to put it all right. Now, look here, I am quite at your disposal, and am ready to do anything you please. But how are you going to convince Brest? He must be convinced, and, in the circumstances you mention, he may not be content

to accept your word for it that Shute and Macglendy are the scoundrels you say they are. See what I mean?” “Oh, I see wliat you mean plainly enough. To put it in another form, my word is no better than Shute’s. Oh, I have thought all that out, and I can see my way quite clearly. Now, if I want you, say the day after to-mor-row, at about eleven o’clock in the evening, in this very room, are you prepared to come? Mind, 1 can answer no questions. All I can do is to assure you that, if you will help me in this matter in the way 1 mention, you will be doing a wonderful service to Roy, Harley and the girl he is engaged to.” “That is quite good enough for me,” Fishbourne said emphatically. “Tell me what to (to. and 1 am your man.”

“I am exceedingly grateful to you,” Blythe said. “I must have a credible witness, who would bring me the right evidence at the right moment. I have already explained to you *why I want to- expose those two men without landing them in lhe hands of the police. You shall have your plate back, and Vickery shall have his wife’s jewels. T am going to give you practical evidence of this.” With that Blythe retired for a moment or two into his bedroom, which adjoined the sitting room, and returned presently with a large portmanteau. From this, under the astonished eyes of Fishbourne, he produced the whole of the missing plate, iu the green baize bags, together with a number of shabby cases containing a mass of gems, that glittered as the light fell upoh them. “There you are,” he said quietly. “Now, I don’t want to take any credit for myself, but you admit that had I liked I could have got off with all this stuff, and nobody would have been the wiser. But, believe me, I had no temptation to do anything of the sort. We will shove all this in a taxi presently, and you can take it back to Fishbourne Towers. When you give Vickery his lot, you can suggest to him that you got. the stuff back by compounding a felony, and give him a hint to keep his mouth shut. He can say he found the jewels in his own grounds if you like.” “Well, I’m dashed!” Fishbourne said. “I owe you something for this, anyway. What can I do to repay you?” “By just doing what I ask,” Blythe said. “I want you to come here the evening of the day after to-morrow, at the time suggested, and walk into (.lie room without knocking. T shall he greatly obliged if you could manage to appear precisely at eleven o'clock.” “That does not sound very difficult,” Fishbourne laughed. “Perhaps not, but that is not quite all. Have you ever been on Shorehaven Beach?”

“You mean what’s called Bungalow Town. Yes, I know it quite well. J had a fancy to have a shanty there myself once, but it .never to anything.” “Then perhaps you know a place there called the Green Bungalow. It stands by itself, just at the end of the beach, and was used during the war by the naval authorities.” “Oh, I, know it. quite well,” Fishsaid: “I have been inside the place several times.” “That’s all to the good,” Blythe went on. “I want you to call there in the afternoon, before you come along here, and do a bit of quiet burglary. I will see to it that there is no one on the premises. If you go round to the back of the house, you will find that you can get in by pushing back the catch of the kitchen window. When you have done that, I want you to go into the sitting room, in the corner of which you will find a small card table, covered with a green cloth. There is a drawer at one end of it, and in this drawer you will see two new packs of cards. I borrowed one pack for a certain purpose, but I was careful to replace it later on. Put them in your pocket, and bring them here when you come. Don’t produce them till I ask you to do so, and don’t be in the least afraid when the time comes to proclaim openly how you got them.” “All this I will do, of course,” Fishbourne said. “Upon my word, I am looking forward to the adventure. If reminds me of my hot youth, before I settled down to humdrum* respectability. But aren't you going to tell me what all this means?” “I would much rather not. if it is all the same to you,” Blythe said. “Why spoil the story by reading the last chapter first? I have worked it out all carefully in my mind, and you may be sure that I am not going to fail. I have two exceedingly .clever men to deal with, but nobody in my line has ever got the best of me yet. and I shall be greatly surprised if that happens now.” With this, Fishbourne had to be content. He went off presently in a taxi, with the portmanteau at his feet, and looked in at the house of his friend Vickery on his way back. The latter opened his eyes widely enough when he caught sight of the familiar cases, and furned eagerly to Fishbourne for an explanation. “Now, how on earth did all this come about?” he asked.

“Don’t you think that you had better go through those cases first and see that they ar<? all right?” Fishbourne suggested. Vickery complied and certified presently that not so much as a clasp was missing. He looked up to Fishbourne for an explanation, but the other merely smiled mysteriously. “I am not going to tell you,” he said. “It was a wonderful piece of luck, and you will be pleased to hear that my Cellini plate came back through the same channel. And it didn’t cost, me a halfpenny, either. A man whom I befriended many years ago put me on the right track, and — well, there you are. He asked me to go and see him, and when the interview was finished I came back with all that stuff, and my own besides. But .you are not to say a word about it to a soul. You can hint that you have got your -valuables again, and take all the credit yourself, if you like. And if the police want to ask any awkward questions, refer them to me.” “Well, I suppose I ought to be satisfied,” Vickery said. “And, anyway, I am deucedly grateful to you. But my curiosity is amazing. Won’t you give me even a hint?” “Not a syllable,” Fishbourne said, firmly. “You are too great a chatterbox for that. You couldn’t keep your mouth shut to save your life. You would be certain to tell your wif£. and once a woman knows the story, it will be all over the county.” “Then you don’t intend to tell your own rilissus?” “Not more than is necessary. Now, look here, Vickery, I particularly want

this tiling kept a secret, because it has to do with the happiness of people who have very little concern with your business and mine. And there is a man behind it whom I have a great respect for, though you would be astonished enough if I mentioned his name. So try and forget all about it. like the good fellow that you are, and be content with getting your wife’s jewels hack. It has been a wonderful slice of luck: That should be sufficient.” “Oh, very well." Vickery said, stalling his obvious disappointment. “1 am not ungrateful, old chap. I am not. indeed. But, Lord, when T come to think of the questions I shall be asked I am all in a cold sweat. I don’t know tvhat to say." “That is why 1 am not going to tell you anything,” Fishbourne laughed. “If you don’t know, you can’t tell.” “There is something ill that.” Vickery admitted. “Tell you what —come over here the day after to-morrow and dine, and bring your wife with, you. Then perhaps you will be able to help me out. 1 shall never get through by myself.” * / “Can’t be done,” Fishbourne Said. “The game is not finished yet, and. on the date you mention, 1 am taking rather an important hand in it.” And with that the little baronet had to be content. CHAPTER XXIV. —THE MARKED CARDS. Blythe was not very far away from his hotel during the next day, because he knew perfectly well that it would not be long before Shute and Macglendy came in search of him. It was just after tea when he was seated in the Metropolitan lounge that the confederates came up and accosted him none too civilly. “Now, don't make a scene here,” Blythe said quietly. “If von have anything to sav, follow me up to my private room.” There seemed to be no objection to this course, and. a few moments later. Shute was opening his batteries. “You call yourself a friend," he said. “A nice way to treat anyone who has behaved toward you as we have done. But we are not going to sit down quietly and be robbed in this way, are we Macglendy? Now, what

have you done with that stuff?” “I am not going to pretend to misunderstand you,” Blythe said. “Thd stuff, as you call it. is already in the hands of those it belongs to. I took the liberty of returning it. and if you are not satisfied, then the remedy is lii your own hands.” “It’s a damned lie.” Shute foam- <l. “You have spld the stuff and put. the money in your pocket.” “Well, if you like to think so.” saaf Blythe, in bis blandest possible way, “I suppose you must. But if you knew the truth. I have saved you from a good deal of —well —unpleasantness I suppose it never occurred to you that the police were watching all this time? You have been just a trifle over bold.” “Do you really mean that?” Shute asked. “Well, I mean that I have got you out of a serious mess, but, at the same time, you two will have to clear out of England and give an undertaking not to return. If you fail to do this, then you will find yourselves in gaol as sure as you are sitting opposite me. Fishbourne knows all about it. He knows that you robbed him of the Cellini plate, and that you used his .house as a rendezvous for your raid on Vickery's place. When I tell you this, I think you will understand why it will be necessary for you to leave the country. When I discovered all this, I lost no time in putting matters right. Y'ou see. I knew Fishbourne long before I had the pleasure of the acquaintance ot either of you, and, though we are no longer on visiting terms, he still has a sort of sneaking liking for me, and when I saw him, I had very little difficulty in coming to an arrangement. Of course, if you like to repudiate the whole thing, you can: but, in the face of what I have told you. I don’t think either of you will be disposed to do anything of the sort. Now, which is it to be? You have just about three days in which to make up your minds.” Shute glanced unhappily at his colleague, who sat there, in his chair, groaning to himself. All the fight had gone out of both of them, and they were just children in Blythe's hands. (To be continued.!