THE BANNANTYNE SAPPHIRES.

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 772, 19 September 1929, Page 5

THE BANNANTYNE SAPPHIRES.

BY

FRANK HIED

FOR NEW READERS

Gervase Daynesford, head of a great "tockbroking firm, is about to take into partnership Guy Meredith, the orphaned son or an old friend. Guy Is engaged to Daynesford’s daughTor Patricia, and the partnership was to oe his wedding present. .On the day before the articles are signed, Daynesford tells Guy that by ’asn speculation he has brought about the ruin of the firm, which in a few cease to exist. Tnat same night Henry Bannantyne ana his wife Alice are giving a ball in honour of Patricia and Guy. Henry ■Bannantyne is a wealthy banker and a cousin of Daynesford’s, and he and his wtfe have introduced Patricia into soand practically adopted her. On his way down to join Patricia, buy meets Maxwell Wryce and his sisand Lady Latchmere, all *h c Bannantynes, who will be the ball. During the course of the evening Mrs. Bannantyne is attacked by a violent headache. She asks Patricia to help her to put away her valuable sapphire necklace in a safe, the whereabouts of which are known only to herseir and her husband. The safe requires People to open it. When they return from the ball they are horrified to discover that Gervase uaynesford has committed suicide. Guy discovers that all Daynesford’s property has gone, with the exception of fcome Mexican holdings, .which are considered valueless. Guy thinks otherwise, however, and bannantyne to borrow the -•3,000, which must be paid before lie can gain any advantage from the Mexican property. Bannantvne refuses. Guy tries Maxwell Wryce with the - ame result. He has only a month left " Which to raise the money. in answer to a telephone call he goes to see Manuel Leofalda. CHAPTER VI. (continued.) Leofalda’s clothes likewise suggested the smooth plumpness of his fa ce; not a mark of wear upon them. His thick black hair was plastered down from brow to nape; even the heavy eyebrows looked as if they Were brushed and pasted into line ® v ery morning. The man’s whole effect was foppish; of a neatness meticulously overdone. But Meredith found immediately that whatever his clothes might be, he was dealing with an astute busihcss man. Leofalda’s knowledge of » situation surprised him. ‘You’re well informed,” he said. How did you know'?” i-eofalda turned to him w’ith a ®niile. But the smile brought no hjovement to the smooth, plump cheeks; it only show’ed a row of dazzling white teeth. As he spoke, -ieredith noticed that the odd sibil*|uce in the man’s voice came from 18 e mphasis upon the letter “S.” f am a Mexican, Mr. Meredith. It my business to know these things.” He ran a plump forefinger w T ith a ° B . v and highly-polished nail, round r ed line marked on the plan. “Mr. Haynesford bought this property 'hree years ago, and unfortunately

I spent no money on it. That was a pity. Here —and there,” the tips of the rosy finger-nail made two small circles on either side of the red line, “money, much money, has been spent with great profit.” “That’s exactly my point,” Meredith interrupted. “If oil has been found here and there” —he tapped the plan where Leofalda had drawn his imaginary circles —"why not on the Daynesford property?” “Precisely, Mr. Meredith.” Leofalda bent his head over the plan, repeating, “Precisely.” Then was silent. Suddenly he looked up, his black eyes gazing straight into Meredith’s. They were bright and clear but curiously expressionless, yet Meredith had a conviction that the brain behind them was weighing whether it had a fool to deal with or not. The heavy eyelids flickered down for a moment. Then Leofalda, still looking Meredith in the eyes, said: “But money, much money, will have to be spent. What is your price?” Meredith leant back in his chair. He knew it was hopeless to expect the price paid by Daynesford. But this smooth-faced man in the creaseless clothes obviously wanted the property, either for himself or somebody else. If not, why had he telephoned? He must get as much as he could, for Patricia’s sake. Better put a bold face on it, he thought. He could always come down. “My price is £15,000,” he said quietly, “with an advance of £3,000 to pay the taxes.” Leofalda shrugged his shoulders and held up his hands, fingers extended, palms upwards —a gesture of the bargaining Jew, Meredith thought. The heavy eyelids flickered down again as he said: — My price, Mr. Meredith, is £5,000!” “But that only leaves £2,000,” cried Meredith, too surprised to conceal his disappointment. “Precisely, but that will be £2,000 more than you will get if you refuse my offer.” The price is preposterous when you consider the possibilities,” Meredith retorted. “Just look what the Sangolanto people have got out of oil all round the property!” “Precisely, but you forget, Mr. Meredith, that in one month from now the property will not be yours and Miss Ilaynesford’s to sell. If you refuse my offer I can probably get the property for £3,000 —the arrears of the taxes.” “But how?” Leofalda shrugged his shoulders, smiled and deliberately folded up the plan and the deed of purchase. As he put them into their big square envelope, he said, “I can. in all probability, Mr. Meredith arrange a concession with the State of Yuracan. It is frequently done in Mexico. You will be wise to accept my offer. £2.000 is better I ’looked at the plump bauds •with their shining, rosy, nailo|

resting on the envelope. Then be looked at the impassive olive-coloured face, its eyes veiled by the heavy lids. Leofalda’s attitude and expression suggested indifference. But Meredith had an intuition that the indifference was a pose; that it was overdone. And with the intuition there came the swift thought. “If this man can get the property for £3,000 in a month, why does he offer £5,000 for it now?” CHAPTER VII. “I will consult with Miss Davnesford and let you know,” was Meredith’s wary answer. He held out his hand for the envelope. Leofalda hesitated. Still holding it in his plump fingers, he replied, smiling amiably, “If I were you, Mr. Meredith, I should not delay. In another week only my offer will be £I,OOO less.” Again Meredith curbed his desire to ask the Mexican why he couldn’t wait until the property was seized. “I will let you know what Miss Daynesford and I decide,” he said abruptly, leaning across the table and taking the envelope from the other’s hand. “Good afternoon.” As he was descending the manv flights of stairs leading from Leofalda’s office to the street, Meredith had what he described afterward to Patricia as “the inspiration of his life-time.” The property of the Sangolanto Oil Company lay on either side of Daynesford’s land. Their success in boring had given the land any value it possessed. Why not offer it to them? He hurried round to the Sangolanto Company’s office and a few minutes later was spreading out the plan of the Daynesford property on an office table for -the second time that afternoon. For the second time, too, he was amazed to find that the Sangolanto people knew the exact position of affairs with regard to Daynesford’s property. They even knew the price he had given for it. “I’m afraid there’s nothing doing, Mr. Meredith,” said the official who received him. “To begin with, until the taxes are paid you’ve nothing to offer.” “But as I explained, the money for the taxes could be advanced, and be deducted from the purchase price,” Meredith answered. “That’s your point of view,” the official said with a touch of sharpness. But he felt sorry for this keen-looking young man. who was obviously desperately anxious to sell, and added in a more kindly tone: “You see, Mr. Meredith, we are not a philanthropic institution. We’re a dividend-earning company and we have to think of our shareholders. Our position is this: We want that land because we believe there’s oil on it, and it’s bang in the middle of our own property. “In a month’s time if the taxes are not paid we can get it for £3,000, plus a little more for a concession from the State of Yuracan. I’m sorry, Mr. Meredith. If the taxes had been paid you would be in a very different position, practically able to name your j own price. As it is”—an expressive ! wave of the hands completed the sen- ! tence.

A few more civil expressions of regret and Meredith was once more in the street, defeated and unsuccessful. But now, through the mist of depression which had come down upon him after his interview with Bannaatyue in the morning, and had grown deeper with each successive disappointment from Wryee. Leofalda and the Saugolanto Company, there pulsated a feel-

ing of anger. The Daynesford property was valuable —the Sangolanto people admitted that. They and Leofalda had the same plan—to wait until the property was seized. They were waiting like vultures round a dying man. It was ghoulish, horrible, yet from their point of view it was “business.” But the Mexican was ready to pay £5,000. Why? A few seconds after he arrived at his office the telephone bell rang. At the other end was a rather breathless Patricia. Mrs. Bannantyne, she said, had telephoned to Ealing asking her if she could come down for the-night. Henry had a City dinner. Alice was all alone and feeling very low, lonely and miserable. “Luckily I was able to get away, but I’ve just missed the train, and there’s an hour to wait. If you’re not too busy come and have tea with me at Charing Cross,” the eager voice concluded. Railway station tearooms are not romantic places, but they play a considerable part in the histories of men and women. That afternoon, the tearoom at Charing Cross played an allimportant part in the after-history of Meredith and Patricia. Seated at a table at the far end of' the road,, away from any possible listeners, Patricia listened without any comment to Meredith’s of his visits to the Mexican and to the oil company. “I think Maxwell Wryee might have lent you the money,” she said; then, bitterly, “Henry wouldn’t, of course—he would not do anything to help poor daddy’s affairs.” It went hard against the grain for Meredith to keep silent about the money Bannantyne had refused to claim in order that Daynesford’s estate should not be declared bankrupt—and for Patricia’s sake. But the fiction of her father’s absolute integrity bad to be maintained. He kept, therefore, to the question of the property, saying:—“You see the position, don’t you?” “Yes. If you had £3,000, this Mexican man or the oil company would have to give you the price you ask.” “But I can’t get the money—and it would make all the difference to you.” Patricia gripped his hand under the table. “You’re always thinking of me,” she murmured. “What should I do without you. Guy?” Meredith tried to smile —a wintry smile. “You did a very great deal by yourself over the tennis job, didn't you?” he said. “Oh, by the .way," he added with sudden remembrance. “Julia Wryee told me to tell you something she had heard at Dashland’s.” “Weil, that’s comforting news,” Patricia said, her eyes shining with pleasure, after he had repeated Julia Wryee’s message. “I thought it was all the other way about, and that I was going to lose my job. But this £3,000, Guy—nothing else matters. If only we could get that!” “Yes.” he answered, “and it seems as difficult as getting a million.”

Patricia had never known him so depressed and dejected. “Well,” she said, “if the worst comes to the worst, there’s the Mexican’s £2,000.” “That makes me savage!” Meredith banged his hand down on the table. “Positively savage. Don’t you see, he pays £5,000, and for that can squeeze heaven knows what out of the Sangolanto people if they’re determined to liavo the property, or sell it to somebody else —and we get a beggarly £2,000. It’s damnable, positively damnable.” “It does seem wicked,” Patricia said. Then, with a sudden thought, “I wonder if there’s anybody I know who would lend me the money? Mary Latchemere, I’m certain, would let me have it on the spot, but she hasn’t any money of her own. Now, let me see.” “Don’t worry, my darling, don’t worry,” she pleaded, leaning out of the window after Meredith had put her into her carriage. “I’m sure I shall think of someone—l feel it inside my bones.” Meredith gave a wry little smile. “No such luck, I'm afraid,” he said, kissing her. “But whatever you do, don’t ask Mrs. Bannantyne.” “Of course not,” Patricia answered quickls*. “How could I, after Henry has refused you twice? I shall be * back for lunch tomorrow.” At three o’clock the next afternoon the door of Meredith’s little office opened, and Patricia walked in. “Thank Heaven you’re alone!” she cried, throwing her arms round his neck and holding him closely. “Darling, darling! I couldn’t have waited another minute. all right.” She put her hands on his shoulders and looked at him —a radiant, smiling Patricia, her eyes sparkling, her colour coming and going, a Patricia he had not seen since her father’s death. “What’s the matter?” t “Don’t look frightened. Mexico’s the j-. matter,” she cried gaily. “Guy, Guy, g it’s ours.” She broke away from him, holding a up her handbag. “The money’s all in there —the £3,000.” Meredith -was too amazed to speak. The unbelievable had happened. h CHAPTER VIII. t “But before I give you the money I! you must promise never to ask who lent it to me,” added Patricia. “I told you I should think of somebody who would help us. And I did. But I d had to swear 1 would tell nobody who t it is—not even you. If I hadn’t they wouldn’t have lent me the money, d Look! Patricia took a bulky blue envelope f from her bag and held it out to him. i “There’s the money, Guy. Now, promise!” £ “But why should anyone make a p secret —” he began. Before he could d say “of such a kindness,” Patricia put c the envelope against his lips. t “That is their affair, not yours or mine. Promise, Guy, and then count d the money?” g “Why not a cheque?” said Meredith, k “Why money?” “Goose! Then you and everybody else would have known who lent it. Will you promise? Listen, it really is f there! ” Meredith could hear the crackling s of bank notes as she bent the envelope - backward and forward. r It was all very puzzling- Even now a

Meredith could scarcely believe it was true. “But I shall have to know the name when the money is paid back/' he protested. “I shall have to give a cheque.” “Oh. no. you give me notes. That’s all been settled. All you have to do now is to promise.” Meredith had the average Englishman’s dislike of mysteries and secrecies. They suggest something underhand. But whatever the reason for the secrecy, the payment and repayment of the loan in notes, he knew Patricia would not be a party to anything that w’asn't absolutely straight. “If you've promised secrecy. my dear,” he said, “then I must promise to ask no questions.” “Then count the money, this wonderful money!” Patricia tore open the envelope, fastened by an indiarubber band. There were 30 notes of £IOO apiece. “By jove!” cried Meredith, as he put the last note on the top of the pile, “you’ve done it, Patricia! You’ve done it. We’ve got that smug Mexican and the Sangolanto people between the nut-crackers.” A caller, who had mistaken Meredith’s room for one on the lower floor, getting no answer to his repeated knocking, opened the door. He drew’ it SUPERFLUOUS HAIR destroyed by ° “RUSMA” (Regd.) Signed, stamped, guaranteed cure, £5 12s 6d. —Florence Hullen, C.M.D., 7 Courtenay Place, Wellington. Send stamped addressed envelope for particulars.

to, hastily, wdth muttered apologies. Instead of the bald-headed accountant he had come to see, a good-look-ing young couple w T ere locked in each other’s arms by the side of a table on which lay a blue envelope and a pile of bank-notes.” “So you have stolen a march on me, ■ Mr. Meredith!” Meredith turned quickly in his chair. Standing with his back against the door was the Mexican, Leofalda, the light from a window beating full upon his face Meredith thought there was a yellowish tinge in the smooth olive cheeks, and that the eyelids were more heavily lined. For the rest, Leofalda was as immaculately turned out as when Meredith had seen him at his own office five weeks before. Today he wore a brown suit, with shirt, collar, tie, and handkerchief of pale purple. “Just like a wax model stepped out of a tailor’s window,” Meredith thought. Leofalda came forward snfiling in a friendly fashion, holding out his hand. “But come, have you been quite fair to me?” he asked. “I don’t follow' you,” said Meredith. “When you left me after I made you an offer for Mr. Daynesford’s Mexican property, you said you would consult with Miss Daynesford and that I should know your decision.” Leofalda spoke slowly as if he were choosing his words carefully. With the same deliberation he continued.

“But you have not done so. For a whole month you have not been to see me; for a whole month you have said it would be no use my coming to you. Each time I have asked for your decision on the telephone, you have said that you and Miss Daynesford w'ere still considering the matter. That was not exactly correct, ! was it?” “We weren't compelled to give you an answer, either one way or the j other, w’ere we?” Meredith asked ! curtly. “Oh, certainly not. But it seems to me, just as a matter of courtesy, that you might have told me the taxes had been paid.” “How did you know that?” “I told you. Mr. Meredith, before. It is my busines to know these things. I received the information from Mexico.” “And it has upset your calculations?” Unconsciously, Meredith’s contemptuous dislike for the Mexican crept into his voice. But Leofalda only smi ed. “Natur- ’ ally,” he said. “I think you might have told me, as I made you the offer.” Then he added, speaking more quickly, “Of course, our negotiations then w’ould have been on a different footing.”

(To be continues tomorrow.)