The Jewels Of Sin

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 728, 30 July 1929, Page 5

The Jewels Of Sin

Bernard RQwChorne.

Author of " The Claws of the Dragon," &c.. 4c.'

CHAPTER X (continued) “Have you thought what will happen to yourself if you do?” asked the novelist with a coolness that was surprising. “Noding will happen,” answered the other tersely. “Consider a crook cf der linger and you are among der dead men laid. Oue step, dw o, and I am on der stairs. I am at der bottom before anyone haf moved, an’ out dere in der beautiful fog I am swallowed up before one can wink. It is as simple as earing cake.” So it seemed to Gerald Mallinson for a moment, and as he sat considering the matter, a rather bleak look on his face, the telephone bell on the desk rang. He moved impulsively as if to answer it, but the other broke out fiercely: “Sit quite still, or by der living Gott ” Mallinson fell back in his chair, hands on knees, and Van Terkamp ■*ith his eyes fixed on him and the Pistol pointed straight at his heart, moved toward the desk and picked up the receiver. Not for a second did he remove his eyes from Mallinson as he answered the” call and the pistol hand never wavered. The novelist, wondering who had rung him up, listened carefully to the conversation at his ond of the line, watching his visitor's face meanwhile. “Yes!”

“Mr. Maliusou, yes! It is der fog. I haf caught a cold; who is speaking?” Van Terkamp's eyes flashed suddenly as the answer to the question came, and an intent look appeared on nis face as he replied; “Of course. Der cold has dulled my wits. You lM.fi somedings to dell me.” Again he listened for a considerable finie, his eyes fixed balefully upon Mallinson, the pistol not for a moment changing its direction. And all the T ’ m e the novelist was wondering who the person at the other end of the wire c °uld be, and why Van Terkamp should find the conversation interesting.

Suddenly a possibility flashed itself upon his mind—“ Zita Barrymore!” As it came to him he half started from the chair, only to see the Dutch-

man clap the telephone mouth piece against his breast to deaden the sound while he said in a wrathful menacing voice: “Sit still, Mr. Mallinson.” The pistol pointing at him gave force to the words, and once more he sank back, with a side thought of the insaneness of the hip-pocket as a receptacle for a pistol that is needed in a hurry, while Van Terkamp renewed the conversation. ‘ Yes, Miss Barrymore, I get you. Go by all means. I haf not yet seen the advertisement —but go at once. Der is perhaps no time to be lost. Yes, dat is so. I am very glad you haf heard. It will ” The sound of a motor vehicle coming to a standstill in the street diverted Mallinson’s attention and filled him with sudden hope. Tompkins perhaps —if only that fat Dutchman would wait a little longer, his goose would be cooked. But Van Terkamp had heard the vehicle also, and, very observant, caught the flash of hope in the novelist’s eyes. Moved by the instinct of self-preservation he brought the conversation to an abrupt close. _ ... “Yes —at once. Go at once. I will start from here. I will be dere when you arrive. But, Quick, I say, or joui brother’s life may be forfeit.” He backed a yard, gave a savage jerk at the mouthpiece, which came away in his hand, and suddenly flung it straight in the novelist’s face. It hit him squarely, half-blinding him, and making him cry out. Then with a brutal laugh, before Mallinson had recovered from the shock of this sudden attack, he flung himself from the room, banging the door behind hi \ With both hands at his forehead, the blood streaming through his fingers, the novelist staggered toward the door.

From the stairs came the sound as -of i two heavy bodies colliding against I each other. There was a stumble and j a crash, and then the sound of hurried j steps in the tiled hall, and two seconds l later through the blood which obscured ! his eyesight, Mallinson saw the taxidriver in the act of picking himself up. at the foot of the stairs, a look of wrath on. his good-humoured face. CHAPTER XI. Mallinson wasted no time. I-Ie could only guess what had occurred, and he knew the futility of pursuit; while the little of the telephonic conversation that he had heard convinced him that the need for action was very urgent. “For God’s sake don’t waste time, Tompkins. If you’re not hurt come up here and help me. We must be oft’ almost at once.” Tompkins looked up and caught sight of his employer’s blood-stained face. “Lord-a-mercy! ” he cried. “What —” “Quick, Tompkins. It’s nothing serious, but I must have it bandaged. Come along.” Tompkins mounted the stairs two at a time, and while he bathed the cut in the novelist’s forehead, Mallinson gave him a brief outline of what had occurred. “I’m afraid for Miss Barrymore, Tompkins,” he concluded. “It was she with whom that Dutch blackguard was speaking. There is some scheme afoot that is directed against her, I am sure. And that fellow’s scotched me momentarily. I must borrow a telephone and then we must get along to the Savoy as fast as we can.” “There’s the doctor’s four doors below,” said Tompkins. “He’s connected— —” “Yes, I’ll go there. I know him. That’ll do, Tompkins. Tie the handkerchief round. If the doctor is at home he’ll do the bandaging after I have telephoned. Wait here with the cab; I’ll be back in a jiffy.” With the handkerchief tied round his head he hurried to the house iu question. The doctor, as it happened, was out, but his housekeeper was within and, knowing the novelist by name and sight, made no difticulty about his using the telephone. In a few minutes the hail came from the hotel. “Hallo! Who’s there?” He promptly gave his name and asked to be placed in touch with Miss l Barrymore. | “Hold the line, sir! We’ll find her | in a moment.” j He waited what seemed an eternity, then again came the hail. I “Hallo! Is Air. Mallinson there?” I “Yes,” he answered quickly. I “Very sorry, sir; but Miss B.trryj more is not in the hotel. She went

out with a lady ten minutes or so ago.” Fear for the girl gripped Mallinson’s heart. Remembering what Van Terkamp had said over the telephone, he was convinced that she had been somehow entrapped by the men who were the enemies of her brother, but hoping against hope he asked further questions. “With a lady? Do you refer to her aunt?” “No! The lady was a stranger in the hotel.” “Ah!” He considered a moment, then he spoke again. “I am just driv-

ing across to the hotel. Please ascei > tain all the particulars you can about Miss Barymore’s departure. It is really most important, you understand?” “Yes,” came the answer. “I shall be along in ten minutes at most. Thank you. Ring off!” He borrowed a roll of bandages from the doctor's store, and, giving in-

struetions to Tompkins to drive as fast as he could in the fog, which appeared to he lifting a little, made a shift to bind his head during the short journey. When he reached the hotel he found the porter awaiting his arrival. “What sort of a woman was it who called for Miss Barrymore?” “She was you-g, sir, tall and dark, and fashionably dressed. Seemed to be in a great hurry, sir, and was quite vehement while she spoke to Miss Barrymore, as if she was urging something upon her. Miss Barrymore seemed a little agitated by •yvhat the caller said to her, and before she left went to the telephone.” “Yes, yes! How did she leave?” “In a private electric brougham which the caller had brought with her, sir.” “You didn’t notice the number of the vehicle?” “Never thought of doing so, sir. It never occurred to my mind that there was any need; or I ■” “Of course it wouldn’t. No sane man would conceive of such a girl as Miss Barrymore being decoyed and captured from the doors of the Savoy ” “Captured, sir? Do you mean that it’s a case of being kidnapped?” “That or something like it.” The porter whistled his surprise, then checked himself, and a look of incredulity came on his face. “But, sir, she went readily enough. When the lady came she went first to the telephone and after talking with someone was all eagerness to be off.” “Yes! I can understand that, though I can’t explain it to you.” Mallinson stood thinking for a little while, then the man spoke again, j “Hadn’t you better ring up Scotland Yard, sir?” “No,” answered Mallinson in a peremptory voice, "and I must beg of you not to mention this matter to anyone awhile. There is a great deal more involved in it than you can possibly imagine. If anyone should make inquiries—Miss Barrymore’s aunt, for instance, who I understand is indisposed—just say that Miss Barrymore has gone out. You understand?” “Yes, Mr. Mallinson.” “You know me?” asked Mallinson a little surprised. “Yes, sir. I remember you coming here when the literary men of London dined that American who came over—l forget his name.” “No matter. The point is that you know me, and I am a friend of Miss Barrymore’s, who asks for your silence solely in her interest.” “No one shall get a word from me, sir.” “That’s right—and neither Miss

Barrymore nor I »\.i fail in gratitude, you may be sure of that. I must go now; but before I do there is another thing I want to you promise me.” “Yes, sir?” “It is this, if anyone does call and make inquiries about Miss Barrymore, send me word. My telephone is out of action for a moment, but in a very little time I will have it repaired, and in the meantime here is my address. If in the next two or three hours any inquiry should be made send me word, write a note and send it by taxi as speedily as you can. I’ll ring you up as soon as my telephone is working again. You understand?’" “Yes, sir!” “That’s right! I must be going now. There are things I must attend to at once.” “Right, sir, I’ll do my best if anything shows up. and if Miss Barrymore returns I will let you know at once.” “Yes, yes! do.” Mallinson returned to the waiting Tompkins. * “We are too late,” he explained. “Miss Barrymore has gone, and I’m afraid she’s fallen into the hands of rogues, of whom the black, and that man who knocked you down, are the leaders. We must get back, Tompkins. I want to think things over, and there’s nothing more to be learned here. Stop at an electrician’s on the way so that we can pick up a man to repair the telephone instrument.” “Yes, sir.” They crawled off in the fog, picked up an electrician competent to repair the damaged telephone, and while

i the man was at work, the novelist paced to and fro in the room, thinking over the situation; with a despairing conviction that he had reached an impasse, and that there was nothing he could do to help the girl, who, as he believed, was now in the hands of utterly unscrupulous scoundrels. _The more he thought, the more greatly*was he disturbed. When the man had gone he sat down and strove quietly to recall what Van Terkamp had said upon the telephone, and as he did so remembered something that he had utterly forgotten until that moment, namely, that the South African Dutchman had been staying at the Savoy. His first impulse was to telephone and inquire ! if he were still at the hotel, but re- | fleeting that Van Terkamp had ali most certainly gor to whatever j place Zita Barrymore had been coni veyed he decided to wait. If, as j he was convinced, the Dutchman was i unaware of the fact that his lodgingplace in London was known to himself, and if he waited and watched for a little while it might be possible through him to trace the girl’s whereabouts. j Again he tried to remember what Van Terkamp had said upon the tele- ! phone. Isolated phrases came to his ■ mind. ... “I haf not seen the adverj tisement, out go at once. . . . But | quick, I say, or your brother's life may j be forfeit.” I “It is quite clear,” he muttered to j himself. “Some member of the gang i has seen that confounded agony col- | umn advertisement; and connecting ' up, has played on Miss Barrymore’s !fears for her brother in order to get j her in their power, possibly tn'nking

slie has the diamonds. Van Torkamp himself, in spite of his exhibition here, may even share the notion. The question is, where have they taken her to?” A moment later he found the answer to his own question. “By jove, to her brother, of course! It would explain his complete disappearance from the scene—if he is in their power, as he well may be! ... Anyway they’re not likely to proceed to extremes until they are assured that the diamonds are not in their possession, and. if Miss Barrymore tells what she knows, there is going to be no lack of liveliness in this particular neighbourhood.” (To be continued daily.) “THE BATTLE OF LIFE” What is this battle called “life”—is it a continuous up-hill grind—one big difficulty after another—a monotonous round of hard work by day and sleepless nights of worry. j Or is it like a game of football—a | strenuous, yet light-hearted, friendly j struggle? j Life is what you make it. I Keep your nerves well nourished and in the “pink of condition” and you will find life full of joy and happiness. Take a course of Marshall’s Fosphcrine whenever you feel “blue” and “out-of-sorts.” “Marshall's makes optimists. It soothes and nourishes worn out and ragged nerves, recharging the entire* nervous system with neneweJ life and energy'. You will notice a decided improvement after the first dose of this concentrated nerve-tonic. Promotes appetite and digestion; induces healthful sleep. Ask for “Marshall's" Fospherine in the six-sided carton—loo doses for 2s GJ. All chemis'ts and stores. *