The Jewels of Sin

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 721, 22 July 1929, Page 5

The Jewels of Sin

£

Bernard Rowthorne.

'fm Author of " The Claws of the Dragon," &c.. &c.

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS CHAPTERS 1 AND II. —Gerald Mallin*"i> steps out of his taxi at Waterloo Siaticn in a dense fog. He asks the chauffeur to wait. A girl jumps out of

a taxi which had nearly collided with his. Her taxi drives off. She carries a brown-leather despatch case and a silk vanity l»asr. A man snatches at her •■ase and bag. Herald Mallinson leaps, his fist shoots out. He sends the man sprawling, the case and bag falling into the road. The man recovers, and makes °ff with the bag, while Gerald picks up the case, which feels empty. The girl the thief has taken the least valuable thing. She has come to meet someone by the boat train. Gerald tells her he is an author, that his hero is meeting the boat train, and forthwith plunges into the "-most exciting adventures. As the boat train comes in the girl moves to the barrier. Later he sees hm* there again. Two other faces attract his attention—a well-dressed negro, and his companion, apparently a Dutchman. \ tall, handsome young woman passes the ticket collector. She signals to the black man ;«nd his companion. The hiac-k says: “He comes I" A man wearing a Stetson hat comes through, carryirg a despatch case. Catching sight of the girl he makes for her. When the crowd moves on the girl is no longer there. The black man and Dutchman fellow the man wearing the Stetson. The three enter the refreshment room. MalliSAn moves gingerly through the fog to his taxi. Again the girl breaks in upon h im. Sh* i„ stranded. There is no taxi except Mallinson’s. and she has to cet to Ragnall Street. Bermondsey, in record time. The young man offers to take her. Zita Barrymore steps into his taxi. She acknowledges that the man in the Stetson hat is her brother. He and she exchanged despatch cases. The taxi draws up. Madison asks Tompkins what is wrong. They are lost. A voice out of the fog offers tr\ guide them to Ragnall Street for a consideration. .The girl wants N'o. 7. The man recognises it as old Peter Rogers's house. They arrive at last. CHAPTER 111 Three or four minutes passed with leaden feet, while Mallinson and the Sirl waited in silence for the return the guide: theu through the fog came a voice hailing the taxi-driver. “This way, Jehu!”

The taxi crawled forward a fewyards, and again came to a standstill,

and once more the man’s head ap peared at the window.

“Here’s Peter’s! That smudge of light there comes from his doorway. You can just see it. Walk straight ahead an’ you’ll go slap into his gate. Thank you!” he added as he took the promised note. “An’ I’ll give you a piece of advice that’s worth more than this bit of paper. If you ain’t used to dealing with Peter — stick up to him. Squeeze him—hard. He’ll pay then, an’ not before.” With a light laugh the man disappeared in the fog, and as Mallinson threw open the door the girl slipped out of the taxi. He handed the despatch case to her, marking its weight as he did so, and she began to thank him. “Please don’t, Miss Barrymore. The thanks are due from me for a most interesting evening. I will keep the taxi waiting for a few minutes, in case you should have further need—” “I expect to find rny r brother here,” she broke in. “But if you don’t find him?” “Then I shall have to wait.” “In that case, I shall take the liberty of waiting also,” said Mallinson with decision. The guide’s last w’ords had given him an uncomfortable feeling, and he had no intention whatever of leaving so charming a girl helpless in what he guessed to be rather a doubtful neighbourhood, particularly on such a night. “It is very good of you to offer to wait, Mr. Mallinson,” said the girl gratefully. “But if my brother has arrived, as I am sure he will have done, there will be no need for you to waste further time. r w’ill return and tell you if he is here.” She turned and moved toward the dim radiance, which from its height Mallinson guessed came from a fanlight. Two paces and she was a shadow, a shadow that at the third w’as merged in the fog altogether. He heard her step on the asphalt, caught

the complaint of a rusty gate, and then to his ears came the sound of a sharp rap on a door. , Three times, with intervals between, the rapping sounded, then there was a sudden increase in the radiance as if a door had been opened, allowing light to stream into the murky night. He w’aited, listening; and to w r ile away the time lit a cigarette, and leaned comfortably in his corner. The hoarse hoot of a steamer, followed immediately after by the screech of a siren close at hand, told him that the river was not far away, but no sound reached him from the house hidden in the fog. Smoking his cigarette, the quiet made for meditation and he began to wonder what strange errand the girl was on; and whether the negro and the big Dutchman would follow her brother to

| Bagnall Street. From them his ! thoughts turned to Peter Rogers, j What was he? What was the nature j of his business, since the way to make him pay was to squeeze him —hard? I Was he expecting the and her | brother, and if not would he be glad to see— Thus far he got, when out of the darkness came a sound that put a term to his meditation —the appaling scream of a woman in distress. For' a moment Mallinson sat there frozen, 1 then dropping his cigarette, he leaped to his feet. "The girl!” he cried, a swift surge of fear for her almost overwhelming . him. “God help her!” The next moment he was out of the ; taxi. With a word to Tompkins to I remain where he was he stumbled through the fog across the asphalt toward the lighted fanlight. He had gone perhaps five paces when he was brought up by some obstruction. His hands told him that that which barred his way was an ornamental iron railing, badly rusted. He remembered the groaning of the unoiled hinges which had reached him, and began to feel for the gate. Before he found it. he heard or thought he heard light steps running toward him, and a second later there came the frou-frou of a silk petticoat as someone slipped by him in the foggy darkness. “Miss Barrymore!” he called sharply. “Miss Barrj-more!” There was no response. The patter of light heels retreating came to him through the night, and for a moment

he stood there in a quandary, uncertain what to do. To follow' in that Stygian gloom was impossible, and after listening for a moment longer, he resumed his search for the gate. His groping hand had swept into vacancy directly in front of that faint illumination in the fog. Further groping revealed a gate, standing w’ide open, and determined to find out the meaning of that scream he passed through the gate into a garden, and began to move quickly along the flagged pathway on w'hich the gate opened. As he advanced the luminosity increased, and a few paces, cautiously taken, brought him to a couple of steps, ascending to the door of a house which stood ajar„ and from the fanlight of which streamed the light. For a moment he stood listening. No

noise reached him except the dismal hooting of a tug feeling its way into the Pool. There was absolutely no sound of movement from the house, which, w'ith its door ajar, fronted him in enigmatic silence. He groped for the knocker, but found none, then still groping his hand encountered an electric bell-push. He put his thumb upon it and pressed hard. / Somewhere in the depth of the house the bell whirred, breaking the 1 silence with sudden clamour, then, as removed his thumb silence once more i fell on the place. He waited. There | was no sound of footsteps nor any i sign of movement behind that door j standing so conveniently ajar. After j a little time he rang again, but still I there was no answ'er, and after ringing a third time for a longer spell, making as it seemed to him noise sufficient to wake the Seven Sleepers, he desisted and stared thoughtfully at that half-closed door. “Must be empty,” he muttered to himself, “and yet—” He considered the light streaming through the fanlight and through the half-closed doorway iu perplexity. Roving further his eye caught a dim radiance which apparently came from a window covered by a Venetian blind, and moving to it he strove to peer in. The endeavour was a vain one, however. He could see nothing. Returning to the doorway, he pressed the bell once more, only to have his summons remain unanswered. “Strange!” he whispered. then remembering the scream that he had

heard, he grew impatient. “I must find out what has happened to her. Here goes anyway.” He pushed at the door standing ajar. It opened, and by the light of the single electric lamp, hanging almost immediately over the door, he was able to perceive the interior presented. Before him was a long lobby with a hat-rack and a chair in the immediate foreground, and beyond that a staircase giving access to the upper rooms. On the left there was a closed door, evidently opening on to the room which fronted the street, the window of which he had peered in at, and beyond there was another room, through the open doorway of which a light streamed. He considered the passage for a moment, looked at the stairs which were in darkness, and then as the mist rolled in, spreading a thin veil over everything, he stepped inside, and partly closed the door, leaving it pretty much in the position in which he had found it. Then again he stood considering. He was convinced that but for himself the house was empty, but the thought of what would happen should anyone chance to discover him made him hesitate. The prospect of being mistaken for a common burglar, seized by some irate householder and handed over to the police, was not an alluring one. “It will be a, rum go, if any one does come,” he whispered to himself, for the oppressive silence of the place was conducive to whispering. Again he examined his surroundings, and after a moment tip-toed to the closed door, and tapped smartly. There was no response, and without trying the door he moved to the bottom of the stairs, and looking up into the shadow's called out in a rather subdued voice: “Hallo! Hallo!” Still no one answered, and now more than ever convinced that he was alone in this strange house he moved for■ward, bodly, tow'ard the room from which the light streamed and which lay just beyond the bottom of the stair. As he reached it and glanced in he saw that it w'as a dining-room, that a single cover had "been laid, and that someone had been interrupted whilst dining, for their was a dish of cutlets on the table; with a plate on which was part of a cutlet, and some otj the vegetables from the dishes standing near. A half bottle of burgundy of a good vintage stood to the right of the plate, and a glass half filled, as if whoever had poured it out, had taken a mouthful or two of the wine as an aperitif before beginning the meal; whilst a napkin throw n upon the one chair set at the table, hinted that the diner had thrown it there as he w'as called away. For a moment Mallinsou stood examining the room. Its appointments were of the solid Victorian kind, the silver on the table was good, and the glass quite irreproachable, but they told him nothing except that the absent owner was evidentlj' a man of some means. I Leaving the room he retraced his • DANCING DANGERS BE CAREFUL! T be dancing season is now well under way. and enthusiasts are busy with their favourite pastime. All dancers will do well to realise how easy it is to catch a chill after coming out from a warm ballroom and how dangerous the results may be. The cold air strikes you when you are overheated, and you soon become aware of a tightness in the chest, and a tickling sensation in the throat. As a precaution take a dose of Baxter's Lung Preserver as soon as you get home. It will ward off a cold, and its unique tonic properties will help to build you up. Baxter’s Lung Preserver is the best i remedy for family use, and it* always ! pays to keep a bottle in the home. Rich. ' red, soothing, and pleasant to take, it 1 is appreciated by all. Obtainable from i any chemist or store. Generous-sized ; bottle 2s 6d. family size 4s 6d, and : bachelor's bottle eighteenpence. 3. j

steps until tie reached the foot of the stairs. He stood with his hand on the balustrade looking up into the shadows, wondering if they concealed the mystery of this silent and apparently deserted house. He put a foot to the stairs as if to ascend them, then started violently, as, caught by some draught blowing through the house, the front door slammed to. ‘'Confound the thing!” he said. Then realising that the eerie silence of the place was getting on his nerves, he walked to the door, re-opened it, and placed the mat in a position that would effectually prevent the repetition of the noise that had so needlessly alarmed him. That done he turned to the interior of the house again, but in passing the closed door on which he had knocked, he remembered that when he had passed through the window there had been a light within. "Perhaps Peter Rogers is here,” he murmured as he halted, and considered the door. A second time he knocked without receiving any answer then taking the handle he turned it and opening the door took a step forward. CHAPTER IV. A shaded electric reading lamp was burning on the table in the middle of the room, which, like the room he had just left, was furnished in a fashion that was at once ugly and comfortable, and spoke of snug prosperity. Rut there was a difference. The dining-room had been all in order, while this room on the contrary had an air of disorder. An overturned chair quite close to the door, and the

door of a mahogany cupboard standing open, with papers which it had contained strewn on the floor in front of it. gave rise to the first impression of disorder, but when he turned to the switch by the door, and put on the three lights which hung from the electrolier in the middle of the room he was startled; for the room looked as if a tornado had passed | through it. A small table in one corner of the ; room was overturned, and the palm which had stood thereon, lay wrecked upon the floor. The door of a second cupboard which had masked a safe lay wide open, with the steel drawers drawn out and tossed upon the floor. A desk near the windows was in the same condition, the drawers, splintered by being forced open. lying mostly on the floor with the books and papers which they had contained littering the carpet. Apparently every article of furni-

! ture which contained cupboard or drawer had been forced and ransacked as by someone making a hurried search, and the only things not awry were the pictures, and the table with its shaded lamp. All this, Mallinson observed in one swift glance, then he saw that which made his heart. leap. On the rug. trampled as if someone had stepped on it, was a Stetson hat. He gazed at it for a second in wonder. It never occurred to him to doubt who was the owner. "Um!” he murmured, as he stepped toward it. "So Barrymore has been denly on his lips, and he checked in his stride while a look of horror came on his face, for lying on the further side of the table, until now unobserved by him. was the body of a man. (To be continued daily. >