The Jewels of Sin

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 719, 19 July 1929, Page 5

The Jewels of Sin

By

Bernard Rowthorne.

Author of " The Claws of the Dragon," Ac.. &e.

CHAPTER T. " -As Mr. Gerald Mallinson stepped out ff a taxi at Waterloo Station, he fneezed violently, and then looked around him for the entrance. Only fc dim radiance shining through the Sense fog indicated its whereabouts, nd. as he discovered it, he sneezed fcrain. “Regular ’fluenza weather, this.” Jaid his Jehu, wiping the beads of inoisture from his eyebrows. “An’ the fog's pretty thick tonight, Mr. Mallinson.” "Yes.” answered Mallinson. “Don’t £ou leave without me, Tompkins. It will be a bad case of lost in London if you do. I may be a little early for the arrival of the boat train; but I Shall wait for it: so don’t go away under the impression I’ve bilked Jfou.” "Bilked! You, Mr. Mallinson!” The driver broke into a noisy guffaw-, ended abruptly, as he shouted to the driver of another taxi which had suddenly appeared out of the mist In a proximitv so close as to be alarming. Look out. you blind bat! Think *ou can do as you like now- the weather’s too thick for the copper to see you. don’t you? But ” The driver of the other taxi, treating his remarks with disdain, drew his vehicle up to the kerb, and while Mallinson watched out of it stepped a girl. The fog intervened and in the Ifght of the station lamps he saw- her through a golden mist: but he had an impression of a slender figure, of a dainty head of spun-gold: of an oval late, with eyes that in the light which he saw them might be any colour, but which he judged to be blue. As she turned to pay the chauffeur, her cloak Was lifted and he caught the gleam of white arms and neck, and knew she was in evening dress. The driver touched his cap. backed his vehicle ftnd then faded into the fog. For a moment the girl stood as if taking her bearing, a slightly bewildered look on her charming face, and while she so stood. Mallinson noted that she carried a small, brown leather dispatch case in her right hand, and that from her wrist hung a silk v anity bag. where apparently she carried her money. He had just time to notice this much when something happened. Behind her. out of the fog the form of a man like a shadow. For perhaps a second he

stood still and looked swiftly to right and left. Then like a swooping hawk he sprang toward the girl. Before Mallinson could cry his warning, and before the girl realised what was happening, the fellow snatched at the dispatch case and the vanity bag. A little startled ‘’Oh!” broke from the victim of the swoop: but the surprise was complete, and the thief secured all the booty for which he aimed, and turned to run. In that moment, however, Gerald Mallinson leaped, and as he leaped his fist shot out. It caught the thief iu the shoulder, and having the whole weighty of Mallinson's body behind it, sent h'im sprawling, and as he fell the dispatch case and the vanity bag fell in the roadw’ay. Mallinson leaped again, meaning to secure the thief, but in the second before he did so, the fellow rolled over with amazing rapidity, grabbed the bag as he rolled, then leaped to his feet, and fleeing down the incline, in two seconds was lost to sight. Through the fog came the clatter of flying feet; but Mallinson made no attempt to follow. In the "London particular” he knew that any endeavour to overtake the fellow would be quite useless, and taking a step forward he picked up the dispatch case, noticing as he did so that it was very light, then he wiped the mud off with a handkerchief, and turning to the girl. “I am sorry,” he said, handing her the case, "but I am afraid that the rogue got your vanity bag.” The girl took the case with a gay little laugh. ‘‘Then he got my money, too,” she answered, “it was in the bag. But for you he would have gut the dispatch-box also—a much worse loss.” For the life.of him Mallinson could not help glancing at the bag. He ■would have wagered a year’s income that it was empty, and yet the girl spoke as if its value were great. He was a little puzzled, but much too

polite to say so, and a second later he remembered her possible needs. “Perhaps having lost your money you will be inconvenienced —” he beban tentatively, at the same time thrusting a hand into his pocket, but the girl interrupted him with a charming smile. “Oh, no!” she said. “But thank you so much. I am not making a journey. I am merely meeting someone on the boat-train, if you can tell me at which platform it arrives.” “Number seven, I think, that is if the fog does not cause an alteration. According to the evening papers the trains have been running anyhow* for the last few hours. But I also am going to see the boat train in—if I may accompany you—” “I shall be very glad. Somehow' I alw’ays get lost on stations, and this

particular station T have only been on twice before, so that in the fog, alone. I may go quite astray.” Again her gay little laugh soui.ded,

and even in the fog her eyes had the sparkle of stars on a frosty night. Mallinson felt quite intrigued; and when she asked a question answered her without reserve. “You also are going to meet someone arriving by this train, I presume?” “No,” he answered with a laugh. “But I am going to meet the train all the same.” As he spoke he caught a flash of curiosity in her eyes, and laughed again, as he volunteered ail explanation. “I have often seen the boat train leave, but I have never seen the home-coming train arrive, and tonight when 1 read in the evening paper that a special was being run from Southampton I decided to come here.” The girl looked round the vast vault of the station murky with fog, and then shrugged her shoulder. “What an odd whim—on a night like this!” “Not so odd, and not so much a whim as may appear,” he answered smilingly. “You see I am a novelist by profession—you may have heard my uame—Alallinson —” “Of course I have,” she answered with a swift flash of her eyes. “And I have read jour delightful books—every one of them, Mr. Mallinson.” “You make me proud,” laughed Alallinson. “But my profession is the explanation of my presence here on this foggy night. There is nothing sentimental or romantic about it—but just plain prosaic business. I am writing a story in which a man meets the boat train, and forthwith tumbles into a series of breathless adventures “1 am sure it will be delightfully exciting, Air. Mallinson.” “If it isn’t,” laughed Mallinson, “my publishers will lose iuoDey.” “And so the better to write your story, you came down here on a foggy night to meet the boat-special?” “For no other reason!” he averred with laughter. “You did not think that you your-

self would tumble into an adventure —knock a thief down, and like a knight-errant restore to a distressed damsel her treasure.” “Treasure —” he began, with a glance at the dispatch-case. “I am speaking figuratively,” she laughed as she caught the glance. “The case is empty.” “But one may surmise that it is not destined to remain emptj’,” he retorted. There came a sudden startled look on her face, then she said in a thoughtful voice: “I had not thought of that!” Mallinson gave a little laugh. “And yet, since you carry it, it was an obvious deduction to make. One does not hug an empty case around unless one has an idea of putting something in.” “But I had no idea—” began the girl and broke off quickly as the roar of a train sounded through the fog. “I do believe the train is coming!” “A train, certainly!” “It is the boat train! See how the porters are flocking this way. ‘Where the carcase is there are the eagles gathered, you know’.” She laughed light-heartedly as she spoke, and then added, “And the train comes in at number seven, behold!” It was as she said. The train was pulling up at the platform where it had been expected, and, like magic, from waiting-rooms and refreshment-bars quite a number of people materialised, moving like grey shadows toward the entrance to the platform. “Excuse me,” said the girl, “my instructions are very precise. I have to wait very

near the barrier. Thank you so much for your kindness,” She moved away; and Mallinson had a little feeling of regret that the acquaintance so romanticaUy begun should have so early an ending. He was conscious also of a surge N of curiosity as he thought of the empty dispatch case. AVhat was it intended to hold? That the owner of it had scarcely reflected on the use to which it was to be put was evident from her words; and the startled look which had come to her face at his own light words, showed that his careless suggestion had awakened an idea in her mind. As he thought of the matter his curiosity was intensified, and, following an impulse that had nothing to do with the original purpose of his visit to the station he himself went nearer to the barrier. There was quite a small crowd gathered, waiting for relations and friends no doubt, and as he surveyed the crowd, three faces rivetted themselves upon his attention. The first was the girl’s, like a white lily in the murky atmosphere, her eyes dancing with expectancy. The other two faces were those of a negro, immaculately dressed, and of a big, gross-ldoking man who was his companion and whom he guessed for a Dutchman. They were an oddly assorted pair, and standing close by him, he noticed that both of them had a tense look, and that their eyes were fixed upon the barrier waiting for the oncoming arrivals. The first person past the ticket collector was a woman, tall, young, and darkly handsome with flashing eyes. As she thrust her ticket in the man’s hand, she never looked at him, but her eyes swept the faces around the barrier, and suddenly she lifted her hand in a signal, and the black spoke quickly to his companion: “He comes.” The other grunted something in reply, what, Mallinson could not catch, but the look on his face grew more tense, as he saw; and the next moment the woman drew aside in the group outside the barrier and stood waiting. Arrested by the silent drama taking place before his eyes, Mallinsou watched the barrier. Five or six people passed the collector and nothing happened, then a man wearing a Stetson hat came through, and the same second, the woman’s signal was repeated, and again the big Dutchman grunted, and took a step forward. This then was the individual for whom the two were waiting, and Mallison looked at the man closely. He was young, his hat and the great coat in which he was wrapped stamped him for a Colonial, and standing within two yards of him. under the strong light of the barrier, in spite of the fog. the watcher caught a gleam of excitement in his eves. A second later he noticed that the man was carrying a dispatch-case, and that, catching sight of the girl whom he had befriended. he turned abruptly aside in her direction. Two people—a man and a woman—following closely at his heels, hid him from Mallinson’s view

for a moment, and a couple of women breaking from the group, and throwing themselves upon the woman in sobbing welcome, provided a further obstruction, but when they moved on, Mallinson saw that the girl was no longer in her place. The crown of the Stetson caught his eyes; and the two men at his side thrust him aside rudely, and moving directly athwart the traffic from the barrier, followed in the wake of the Colonial. Vastly interested Alallinson. in turn, shadowed them: and as all three entered the refreshment room. Mallinson following them, halted at the door, and looked round for any sign of the girl whom he had succoured. CHAPTER IT. The girl was not in sight. The fog hung like an impenetrable veil, completely hiding any person outside a radius of three yards. He turned again to the refreshment room. The man in the Stetson hat was standing at the bar, while the negro and the Dutchman had seated themselves at separate tables, as the novelist was quick to note. Apparently the man

whom the girl had met was in no hurry. He had set down the dispatchcase he carried, and was just beginning to eat a sandwich, a small pile of which stood on a plate immediately in front of him; while at the same moment the waitress set before him a tall glass of beer. That he was oblivious of the attention of the two watchers seemed certain, and as Mallison assured himself of this, a question arose in his mind. “Where is the dark woman who signalled?” Scarcely had he asked himself the question when the answer leaped in his mind. “Followed the girl, of course!” For a moment he stood hesitating. It would take some little time for the young man to work through the pile of sandwiches, and the drama was not likely to develop while he remained in the refreshment room, since it was very evident that the watchers were playing a waiting game. There would be ample time for him to go to the station entrance to look for the girl before—(To be continued daily.)