The Shadow Crook

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 604, 5 March 1929, Page 5

The Shadow Crook

n By

Aidan de Brune

i (Author of “Dr Night, ” “ The Carson Loan Mystery,” ‘‘The Dagger and the Cord,” etc.) (COPYRIGHT.) ■■ ■—

CHAPTER XXIX. —Continued. For some seconds she fought him off, hiding her face against his straining arms. With an oath he thrust her back and snatched at the mask. “Norma! By the gods!” There was more than triumph in his voice. “Norma, and in m.v room!” From her flushed, tear-distorted face, his eyes wandered across the room to the bed. Again the hoarse, beast-like cry of triumph came from the parted sensual lips. His arms tightened around her. dragging her across the room, a shrill cry of terror came from the girl's dry throat. Frantically she clawed at the brute holding her in a hot, suffocating embrace. She clutched at the furniture as he dragged her forward.

"You damned little spit-fire!” One of her hands had caught his face, drawing blood on a long, red scratch. “Well, you’re going to pay for that, my dear. There’s just you and I here. Keep still, you fool. There’s not a hope of escape for you. I’ve got you, at last.” With a supreme effort she broke from him and dashed to the window. She was half-way through before he caught her again and drew her back, chuckling lewdly. “Coy, dear, and in that di-ess?” Again’ his low laugh of triumph rang through the room. “Come on, dearie, you're trapped this time. Better be kind and gentle. I’m not a bad sort of lover, if you treat me right, y’know." Suddenly Norma’s strength forsook her. She reeled back in the man's hateful embrace. For a moment he stood looking down into her flushed white face, then drew her closer to him, and bent his lips to hers. She shrieked in terror as that coarse face came closer. Would no one come to her help? She knew that in anothei moment she would be lying passive in that hateful grasp, pliant to the man's foul will.

i “Norma! Norma!” A voice cried in the corridor, without the room. | Again she cried out, evading the hand ! Mintos sought to clasp over her lips. ' “Norma, are you there? A loud knock came at the door of the room, i The handle of the door was turned and the woodwork strained under the | heavy weight flung against it “Norma! Norma!” "Here, Stanley. here!” hor a moment she managed to wriggle her face from under the Jew s hand. “Help! Help!” , , , \gain the woodwork creaked undei the weight flung against it. With a muttered oath. Mintos lifted the Bill and flung her oh the bed. He turned to face Etheringham as the door gave way and the squatter staggered m-o the room. •Mintos! Norma!!” Etheringham stood, surveying the scene with blood Shot eves. He turned savagely on the Jew. “What are you doing here.

“Yes. Abel Mintos and Norma Etheringham.” The man faced the squatter defiantly. “What’s that to you, Stanley Etheringham?” “My wife!" The squatter stared stupidly at the man. “Your wife—but my mistress!” Mintos laughed harshly. “Does that surprise you? I told you she had lovers. Well, what are you going to do about it?” “You damned scoundrel!!” Blinded by rage Etheringham sprang at the Jew. Mintos stepped away from the squatter’s charge; drawing from his hip-pocket a small automatic. “Keep back, you fool! There was stark murder in the man’s voice. “Keep off, or I’ll shoot you like the damned cur you are.” Etheringham saved himself from a severe fall by clutching at the footrail of the bed. He turned to face the Jew, crouching low against the broken door; the gun pointing forward. For some minutes the two men stared at each other, hate swelling in their hearts. At length Etherington moved. Slowly his legs bent in the crouch that changed to a spring would launch him at the Jew’s throat. Mintos watched him, a slight smile curving his lips. “Be careful,” Etheringham.” The words came in a low hiss. “I’ll not stand for your nonsense. Make one move and—” The shrill clatter of the hall-bell broke on the man’s words. With a start he looked round. Etheringham seized the opportunity and sprang. He brought up against the broken door, flung shut in his face. From the corridor came a crowing laugh of j triumph, followed by the sounds of swift-running feet. • CHAPTER XXX. For some minutes Norma lay on i the bed, dully conscious of the shouts | and tumult in the house. Again the I hall-bell sounded. She stirred, and rolled from the bed to the floor. For some seconds she lay, too shaken to move,then struggling against the inertia that bound her limbs, she dragged herself to her feet, clinging to the post of the bed. She swayed dizzily, trying to co-*rdinate her chaotic thoughts; to recall what had happened during those terrbile minutes she had passed in that room, alone with the sensual Jew. Again the door bell rang. Slowly the girl’s head cleared. Cranford was at the front door, awaiting her and wondering why she had not kept

her promise to meet him on the verandah. No doubt he had heard the struggling—the crashing of the door under Etheringham’s weight—and had wondered. Where had he been when Mintos and the squatter charged through the house? Had they gone into the grounds, or ? She turned from the bed and ran to the door. There was no one in the corridor, and she went down to her room. She slipped on her dress and drew a comb through her disordered hair. At the head of the stairs she paused and listened, then slipped down to the front door. “Hush!” With her finger to her lips she slipped through the doorway into the mail’s arms. “Cranford it—it has been terrible! Mintos found me in his room, and—and ” “The brute!” The barrister carried the girl to a seat. “Where is he? I’ll smash him for this!” “Stanley came and rescued me from

him,” Norma was crying. “He told him a lie. He said I —I —I was his Oh. I can’t repeat it. It isn’t true. Cranford! It isn’t true! I hate him!” “Of course, it isn’t true,” Cranford seated himself on the arm of the chair, gently patting the hand she had laid on his arm. “There, there, child! Leave me to deal with him. Where is he?” “Cranford!” Norma clutched at the man hysterically. “You must take me away. I can’t bear it longer. Oh, take me away from it all —take me away.” “Just what you say. dear.” The i barrister spoke soothingly. “Now, lean back and rest. I'm going to ; leave you for a moment, but I won t ] be long.” 1 He went softly to the hall door,

and listened. The house was silent. Walking with caution, he went to the dining room and switched on the lights. On the sideboard was a cellaret, unlocked. He poured out a stiff peg of brandy-soda, and returned to the veranda. “Drink this, Norma.” He pressed the glass into her hands. “We can’t do anything until you have regained your nerve. ‘.That’s good. Now, where is Mintos?” “I don’t know.” The strong spirit put new life into the girl. “Stanley broke in the door, and they fought. When you rang the bell, Mintos ran out of the room, and Stanley followed him. I don’t remember anything more. Presently I was able to go to my roopi and—and, Cranford, I was dressed —oh, how am I to tell you? I am the man in the black mask the papers are writing about.”

“The man in the black mask?” Cranford laughed joyously. “Jove, old girl, it was you who held up Inspector Mason and took the papers from him! You’re splendid.” “Yes.” The girl averted her face. “I took them from the desk, and down in the street, I went into a shop and obtained an envelope. I posted them to myself. Cranford,” she clutched his arm anxiously, “you have the<m? They are safe?” “The papers?—no.” The barrister laughed lightly. "Don’t worry, Norma. 1 believe Mason’s forgotten all about them. No doubt ” “Then he has them still! Oh, dear Lord!” “Now, Norma,” the barrister shook her slightly, “you’re not to worry over them. Mason’s straight. I’ll swear

that. You know he’s had a busy day. I’m certain they are in his pocket, and he’s just about found them now. He’ll bring them to me to-morrow. ’ “Has he opened them?” The. girl spoke in a whisper. “No." Cranford spoke positively. “He’s not that sort. It he suspects anything he’ll bring them to me and ask me to open the envelope and hand the papers to him. We’ll not bother any more about them to-night. We have got to catch up to Stanley and Mintos, or there will be murder done. I wonder where they’ve got to” "I don’t know.” The girl spoke miserably. “Tbey did not come out of the bouse,” Cranford mused. “I’d have seen them if they had. No, they’re in the house, somewhere.” “Perhaps in the library,” Norma jumped to her feet. “Cranfordj we must go to them.” She ran lightly into the hall and to the library door. It stood slightly

ajar. As her hand sought the handle she hesitated, and held up her hand in warning. From within the room came the sounds of voices, low and in heated debate. With her hand on Cranford’s arm, the girl stood listening. “No good arguing. Stanley.” The Jew’s voice was supremely ari-oganl. “You’re in the net as much as I am. If you stick to me we’ll pull through. If not ” “You damued cur!” The squatter’s voice was full of anger. “You led me into your beastly tricks ” “Lot of leading required, old man.” The promoter chuckled lowly. “There was not much leading the night you came down to Carew Lane, was there?” “What do you mean, damn you?” “Oh, what’s the good of talking like that?” The Jew spoke impatiently. “Forgotten what happened that night. 1 Damned convenient memory you’ve got. Forgotten you trailed me to Stacey Carr’s shop, the night I found the secret safe. Forgotten you came on me with the jewels in my hands, and claimed a share of the spoils? “It was my money you used to purchase the jewels from Mrs. Kynaston,” interposed Etheringham. “Well, you’ve got plenty.” The promoter laughed harshly. “I hadn't the money to spare, and you had. That’s 1 all there is ill that. You wanted the I jewels and you have to pay for them.” “What about your half of the motley?” There was menace in the j squatter’s voice. “What about —you know what I mean. You're in that, up to your ■ eyes. Besides, 1 gave you half the | purchase price, as we arranged.”

"In shares of that damned Northern Territory Gold Company! A company without a mine; a mine without gold.” | “You sold the shares, didn't you? If you didn’t get cash out of me yon got it out of someone else.” I "Damn you!” i “Cut that out.” Mintos spoke i sharply. “I'm wondering where I'd I be now if Old Man Carr hadn’t walked in at the door of his old shop? P&s----j sibly—” j “Old Mau Carr? Dad?” Norma ' | slipped from the restraining hand of . j the barrister and flinging open the ! door, walked into the room. “Abel ' ! Mintos. did you kill my father?” -.orma!” The voice of the squatter rose almost to a shriek. “Norma! j Cranford! What are you doing here? ! What have you heard?” 3 “Enough to realise that that man * murdered my father!” The girl pointed • at the Jew, lounging easily in one of 3 the chairs. J “Mrs. Etheringham flatters me!” 1 The grating laugh of the promoter 3 I rang through the room. “She accuses ’ ! me of murdering her dear old dad, | when —” ■ j "I heard you confess it.” Norma exclaimed breathlessly “You said you 1 were in the shop the night my father e i went there. You acknowledge he e j found you with the jewels in your ” ! hands. You —you —" c “Stabbed your father with one of his e own files!” Mintos rose to his fep j and bowed gravely. “Afraid you’ve 1 j jumping to conclusions, my dear e [ Norma. If you wish for real facts —” (To Be Continued.)