THE GREEN SHADOW

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 944, 10 April 1930, Page 5

THE GREEN SHADOW

By

HERMAN LANDON

Copyright by Public Ledger

CHAPTER 111. It. had been a victory for Mr. Castle and his faction. Hence the satisfied, if somewhat tired, smile that now twisted his lips. It was a great satisfaction to know that he was a master of men, even if he was not at all times the master of himself. For the time at least he had drowned a bur deu of fear and guilt in the tossing billows of a battle from which he had emerged victorious. Almost soundlessly the door opened. Adele, the one person privileged to enter his inner sanctum without formality, stepped lightly inside and closed the door behind her. Mr. Castle, absorbed in his thoughts, heard nothing. She advanced a few steps over the rug, then paused and regarded the figure at the window'. Her dark eyes, with a brooding haze in them, widened slightly. . Her father was standing straight and erect once more —just as she haa been accustomed to seeing him until recently, with head held high and shoulders thrown back rocking slowly on his heels while he jingled a few coins in his pocket. She w’ondered at the transformation. But she did not wonder for long. Too many things, some of them weirdly inexplicable, others Poignantly real and clear, had happened in the last few hours to permit her to inquire into causes and effects. She was still seeing things through a green mist. There was a distant drone in her ears—Dr. Moffett’s voice! Things that were incomprehensible thronged her brain, but uppermost was a sharp anxiety. The last hour had been like a foggy dream in the morning. She had listened to Dr. Moffett’s adroitly phrased oroposition, asked time to think it

over, and then she had departed as she had come, escorted by the languorous Miss Conway, too preoccupied with the first tragedy that had entered her young life to attempt to elude the surveillance of the silent woman at her side. And now she was here, hoping against hope that her father's words would shatter the clouds that had gathered over her head and assure her that it had been all a hideous dream. “DAD, I KNOW” “Dad!” she whispered. Mr. Castle swung round, and the expression of triumphant belligerency faded out of his face, yielding to a look of pleasure and tenderness. “Well, my little girl,” he exclaimed, “this is a nice surprise!” He reached out and gave her a little hug. The chairman of the Knickerbocker Finance Corporation had retired in favour of the fond parent. “It isn't often you favour your old dad with a visit. Sit down here and tell me all about it. I’m in a generous mood this morning. If you have been a reckless little girl and overdrawn your allowance ” „ He faltered and paused. He had just seen the white, -sti'icken look in his daughter’s face. Despite the handsome morning frock she wore, there was a crushed, despairing air about her. “What on earth’s the matter? he asked anxiously. “Dad.” said Adele in a thin, even tone. “I know.’ Mr. Castle's face sagged. He gave her a blank look. A dread premonition tightened his lips and darkened his eyes. “You —you know?” he echoed dully. “Everything,” said Adele. “Let's sit down, dad. We must talk."

Mr. Castle’s hand shook as he gripped the arms of the swivel chair the chair from which he directed the destiny of the Knickerbocker Finance Corporation —and sat heavily down. With a limp motion Adele slipped into the chair beside him. For a few painful moments they faced each other in silence. “Dad,” Adele began, “is it true that you are the mysterious Mr. Graves?” Though prepared for the question, Mr. Castle winced. He slumped down a little in the chair, then drew himself up again. His face was suddenly grey and drawn. “Someone has been talking?” ho said iu a flabby tone. Adele nodded. “Who?” her father demanded. She hesitated. Her brain re-enacted the bewildering scene—the room with the green lights, the shrouded face, the stifling oppression that had weighed upon her. Then she shrugged. These were non-essentials. Her mind fastened on the only tangible thing that mattered. “Someone who calls himself Doctor Moffett,” she replied. Mr. Castle sat stonily still. A grey look spread across his face. A groan came. She reached out and squeezed his cold, trembling hand. “Buck up, dad. Maybe it isn't as bad as we think.” A sickly smile twisted Mr. Castle's lips. “So he has come to you,” he muttered brokenly. “It wasn’t so bad while he confined his hounding to me. I could bear it somehow —find a way out, perhaps. But now you have been dragged into it. Oh, good heavens!” “There, dad.” She patted his arm. “You mustn’t take it so hard. I’m glad Doctor Moffett told me. Maybe I can help you. We’ll fight it out together, you and I. I’ve been no good to you in the past—only a silly. ' frivolous creature. I want to make up for it now. Let’s see if we can’t plan something.” Her father shook his head despond- ! ently. “I’m afraid it's no use, dear, j Doctor Moffett can break me. It it I was a fair and open fight, it would be I different. But Doctor Moffett doesn’t I fight fairly. He strikes in the dark I and from behind. He struck a blow

from behind when he dragged you into this. I had been afraid he would. The viper!” “Please, dad, don’t take on so. I’m sure we can do something.” A PAWN IN THE GAME Mr. Castle went from cringing dejection to a mood of grim, savage vindictiveness. “If I could only get

my hands on him! I would crush the life out of Xiis yellow hide. I would— But there’s no chance. He won’t fight in the open. He prefers to sTtulk in the dark. Don’t you see what he is doing? He is trying to influence me through you. He is using you, a girl, as the pawn in his dirty game. The contemptible rat! The treacherous, poisonous snake!”

“Darling, darling!” _ Adele murmured. “You mustn’t!” Mr. Castle calmed liimselt with a grim effort. There was a stiained. ashen look in his face, a mingling of mental agony and biting scorn. "Let’s see what we can do,” Adele suggested. “But first you must tell me everything. It is true that you are the 'mysterious Mr. Graves, isn’t Her father nodded heavily. “Yes, it’s true. But don’t despise me, dear. I could stand anything else, but not that. Oh, I’ve been a fool! For fifteen years I have been making money for the Knickerbocker Finance Corporation, but my' personal affairs have suffered gravely. “A year ago they were in a dreadful muddle. They are in a somewhat better condition now, but even today I wouldn’t know where to borrow even such a sum as 50,000 dollars. I have been lying atvake nights scheming and planning. Everything 1 touched on my own account seemed to go wrong. I have worried night

and day.” “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Adele murmured. “Why didn’t you tell me, dad? I’ve been extravagant—terribly. If I had only known ” “There, there, don’t reproach yourself. It’s all my fault. If 1 had planned better, things wouldn’t have got into such a mess. You are all I have, dear. I have always wanted you to have the best of everything—the finest education, the finest clothes, everything your heart could desire.” “Yes, I know, dad, but I feel so guilty ” “You mustn’t feel that way. I could have afforded it easily, if only I hadn’t bungled things. I was careless with my investments, and afterward I got reckless. One project after another collapsed. But there, I I shan’t worry you with the details. It’s ' enough for you to know that when j Daniel Forrester came to me one day | about a year and a-half ago 1 was j on the brink of ruin.” j Mr. Castle groaned. “Forrester was ; .a glib talker. He had a brilliant j scheme, one that promised enormous j returns on a very small investment, j I was able to raise a little monej', ! enough to put the project on its feet.

We became partners, although I stipulated that my name mustn’t be associated with the enterprise. "It wasn’t that I had any doubt as to the honesty and legality of the undertaking, hut I didn’t want it to become known that my interests were divided between the Knickerbocker Finance Corporation and this other thing. If I had looked a little more deeply into Forrester’s brilliant scheme, perhaps I would have become suspicious. But I didn’t; there were too many other things on my mind, and Forrester had come to me with the best sort of recommendation. “I took an active part in the management of the project and reaped half the profits. The profits tided me over the crisis, and that was all. I had but a very little left over. And it wasn’t until Forrester was dead and the investigation got under way that I discovered that I had been associated with a criminal enterprise.”

100,000 DOLLARS BLACKMAIL “Poor dad!” Adele whispered. “I—l don’t deserve your sympathy,” said Mr. Castle brokenly. “I was careless. A man in my position should have known better. And I am not making excuses for myself. If I had paused to give the matter adequate consideration, Forrester could never have inveigled me into such a crooked business. I just saw a chance to recoup my personal fortune, and I jumped into it with my eyes only half open. There’s the story. I had hoped to keep the disgraceful secret from you, but now it’s out. Do you hate me?” "I love you,” said Adele passionately. “Don’t,” said her father. "I don’t deserve it, and so it hurts.” She leaned over and kissed him. “My first thought when I saw how things were,” Mr. Castle went on, “was that I must reimburse the investors who have been victimised by Forrester and myself. I knew it would take years, and It would have to be done very quietly, hut it seemed the only decent thing to do. “I hoped to set aside a portion of my income each year for that purpose. I thought there, would be only a slight chance that my participation in the scheme would become known.

Then, soon after Forrester’s death, the police and the newspapers began to talks about a certain mysterious Mr. Graves who was supposed to have been associated with Forrester. “Even then I had little fear that my secret would leak out. I knew there were compromising papers in Forrester’s desk, including a partnership agreement, but during his illness Forrester told me he had destroyed them. It’s possible that his mind wasn’t clear, that he confused the intention with the accomplished fact. At any rate, one evening about a month after his death, I received a telephone message.” “From Dr. Moffett,” Adele surmised. “Yes, from Dr. Moffett. I have never seen the man. I have received numerous telephone calls from him and a great number of typewritten notes, all to the same effect. Dr. Moffett is a blackmailer, of course. He claims to have documentary evidence of my partnership with Forrester, and he has repeatedly pointed out to me what would happen if this evidence should be made public.” (To be Continued Tomorrow.)