Literature.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume XLVI, Issue 132, 8 June 1904, Page 4

Literature.

MYHA BROCKLEY'S JOKE. < t (Continued.) " I nßVer thought of that. How L'&oes the law stand in such a case?" s~ "Can't tell offhand. I will ask Manners to-morrow. Let us get on now with the books." • v "I cashed three other cheques of Hammerton's to-day," persisted

i ,George, "but they were all some "'-days old. By the way, did he have I ■„ * a new chequo book ■ within the last ] lew days ? These three did not ',-tome from the same book as the last * one. There is a difference of nearly two thousand in the numbers. p Mr Brockley turned to his records. "No," be said. "The last we sold " > him tor bis private account was more than a week ago—C. 38,151 to C. B- 200 " "And this cheque is C. 36,275. /"lint, after all, that proves nothing. ~* ]lr may have borrowed a blank clique ' * "Just so. Let us get on." ]t seemed to George that the man- ■ ager, lor some reason, did not wish " to pursue the investigation ; or that he hud in his mind 6ome other plan v for discovering the mystery. The " two men worked on without further •■■■ remark. When they had finished, Mr Brock- ' ■ ley said: "You arc going to the ' »!iow 0 ' k ''\cs ; I promised my mother to ■ 'Eiiot her there." "My wife and daughter are there. J.et us walk together." .ieorge assented. The walk was :• silent ; the minds of both men were preoccupied, George thinking chiefly of the disagreeable uncertainty about - the cheque, and Mr Brockley feeling ■' painfully the sudden disappearance of > a well-known figure in Burwell life. The two men walked quickly and "'Somewhat absently through the tents which were now becoming two much r: crowded to be pleasant places to :.i linger in ; and having accomplished " this duty, they turned towards the f. private part of the grounds, where Mrs Kodwell was entertaining her t" friends amongst the company with k * tea and tennis. . Just inside the gate, that divided ;- s * the lawn from the field, George *: grasped Mr Brockley's arm. "There's the man who cashed the ■ cheque ! That young fellow talking tq. Mrs Merton ; hut he has changed : his hat and his trousers." H " Nonsense ! That's my nephew, £ Jack Stevens, who cqpie to us last

L night, for a flying visit, on his way to his new curacy. If he had wanted to cash a cheque he would have done it in the morning, and not come t' away from the flower show for it." But even while he spoke, Mr Brock- ■ ley remembered 'the maid's testi- « mony, that his nephew had returned home, for some purpose or other, and that her account of his dtess agreed with George's description of

that of his unknown customer, who i was, moreover, :said to have gone into his (Mr Brockley's) house after

>° leaving the bank. It was odd, cer- ' tainly. Uow could Jack have got • hold of a cheque of Hammerton's ? There was one comfort, however, if Jack had anything to do with the matter, there could bo nothing wrong about it. But white Mr, Brockley was thinking thus, George was eyeing the young clergyman attentively, and doubts of his identity with the holder of the cheque began to creep into his mind. Had the man who brought the cheque got a moustache ? Jack Stevens had—verylight, but distinctly visible ; whilst, so far as he could recollect, the face of the other was either quite smooth ; or clean shaven. But though this was his impression, he could not feel certain upon the point. He made a point of speaking to Mr Stevens, and grew more puzzled each minute. If this was the man whom

he haa seen in the bank, the reason why' bis face had seemed familar to hi in was clear enough. There was a nlrikliig fkniily resciiiMancc between the curate and hi# cousin Myra, and George now saw a certain resemblance to his uncle also. The strange thing was that he had not known at once of whom his customer reminded him. But though Jack Stevens was young looking, he was not so absurdly young looking as he had fancied in the afternoon. The absence of moustache would, no doubt, make

him look still younger. Was it possible that this moustache was false, and put on when his dress was changed ?

At this moment Mr Brockley strolled up. "So you grew tired of the show, Jack, and came home in the middle ?" he said.

'' I?" returned his nephew. " No, I have been- here all the afternoon, llyra went home to fetch her racquet, but she would not let me go with her." " No," said Myra. "You were wanted here to play tennis with the Harcourt girls." "And you really have not left the grounds ?" repeated Mr lirockley. "Not since I came with aunt, at half-past two." "Curious," said his uncle. "IlerVey here says he saw you in the bank, and Jane says you came into the house about four o'clock and ran upstairs while she was in the hall." "I must be one of the unfortunate people with a double, then, for I have not been in either place this afternoon." Myra laughed nervously. "Better write an account to the Society- tor Psychical Research, papa. It seems a ghostly mystery; quite in their line." "Or make a detective story of it," said the clergyman. George Hervey felt uncomfortable. He was gradually becoming convinced that Mr Stevens was not the man who had presented the cheque ; and with the conviction, the impression ' that tho writing of the draft was too fresh to have been traced more than a few hours before it came into his hands became deepened. He took the manager aside, and expressed his uneasiness. The bank party left the show early. As soon as George and his mother found themselves alone in their Rings the latter exclaimed : ■ "George, such a strange thing has happened ! I have lost a cheque out of my book. Look here!" George took the cheque book that his mother offered him, and saw that the counterfoil of the last cheque torn out was blank. He also saw that the blank counterfoil bore the number of the mysterious draft presented at the bank that afternoon : C. 36,275. He started.

"When did you find this out, mother?"

"Just before I went out this afternoon. I was making up iny accounts, and 011 looking, to be sure that 1 hud not forgotten to enter any payment I had made by cheque, I saw that one cheque was gone." "You are quite sure that you did not use it ?"

"Quite. The last cheque I drew was on Tuesday. Mrs Bryant came' up to say that the collector for the (las Company had called with their account, and as there were two quarters owing, the company threatened to cut off the gas if it was not settled at onctn. She had not quite enough money in the house to pay I it, and asked if I would mind advancing a week's rent. Of course, I said that I would, as it would be due the next day, and then I found 1 had no money in my purse. Mrs Bryant said that if I would write a cheque for the amount of the Gas Company's bill, she could give me change for the difference between that and the rent, and I did as she asked. Here is the counterfoil, ' Burwell Gas Co., £2 3s 4d.' lam positive that that was the last cheque I drew. You gave mo five pounds next day to go on with, you know." " Was anyone in the room when you drew th» ch«que besides Mrs Bryant ?"

"Only Myra Brockley. She had been making a sketch of the old church out of our window, you know, and she was in the back room going on with it then."

" Myra Brockley ! Think what you are saying, motner !" and he looked so startled and shocked as to astonish his mother.

She laughed. " My dear George," she said, " I did not accuse Myra of taking the cheque. I only said she was in the room when I had the book out last. Why should she not be there. She was most innocently employed, I am sure."

George made an effort to recover his self-possession. lie was horrified at the suspicion that suggested it-

. 'lf to his mind, and would not for ■.lie world that his mother should Tuess at it. " Most innocently, of course," he said. "But, mother, you must let ale show this book to the manager." " What in the world for ? What business is it of his ?"

" In all banking affairs, it is best lo )k> on the safe side. Someone might pick up the cheque and use it who had no right to do so." and he hurried out of the room, giving his mother no time to ask further questions. George walked as rapidly as he could to the manager's house, in the hope of being able to find Mr Brockley before he should have gone out to prosecute further inquiries he had expressed his intention of making that evening. He was too late. The servant informed him that Mr Brockley had been out at least a quarter of an hour. He told her that he would await her master in his private room, and begged her to inform Mr Brockley of his presence the moment he returned. The time wore slowly on, and George's impatience and anxiety increased with every minute. When Mr Brockley at last returned he was accompanied by a detective. (To be continued.)