THE STORYTELLER.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 238, 13 November 1909, Page 3

THE STORYTELLER.

TO THE RESCUE (By C. Randolph Lichfield),

"What!" said Mortimer, aghast, '■goner" "Yessir; gone Sonne -few minutes," returned the ticket examiner. "But—" Mortimer exclaimed sharply, and snatched has watch from his pocket. '•Oh:!—the phguey :.: thing's stopped! Nothing extra on hand would take me 2" "No, sir; I'm sorry, there's nothhg till the morning." Mortimer turned away impatiently and strolled thoughtfuly across the main platform.

|'What was to be. done? Here he was fairly landed, all through being too selfreliant; if he had only looked at one of the many clocks he must have passed he would have had a hint that his watch had stopped. Instead of that he lad been quite satisfied that he had plenty of time in hand because his wateh had told him go, and the wateh was his.

And probably Marion was) getting fidgety because he was already much later than he said he would be, and nervous because .she was all alone— unless she bad succeeded in getting someone to fill the place of the Walesley young woman who had thrown up her situation of housemaid in view of the fact that she might have extra duties to perform since the cook had been taken ill and obliged to go home for a- rest aad change; indeed, Marion had not attempted to disguise from him the fact •that the prospect of being all alone h tto heiwe after dark filled her with uneasiness, and he would not have come to town that day if the matter had not been very important, or if he had supposed he would be detained so late. And now he had lost the last train! Marion was sitting alone, or pacing nervously about in that lonely honse.many sizes too big for a young married couple, listening for his footsteps all the time, perhaps; or looking tip the trains cal-1 culating how long it would take him o walk the mile from the station, and how late the train might be. The idea of chartering a special tram struck Mortimer, but he dismissed it on reflecting that he would doubtless be expected to prepay the charges and he had no cheque-book with him and only some small change. Then another idea struck him, and seizing .upon 't eagerly, he hastened out of the station and jumped into a cab. He knew a man named Markworth who had a motor-cycle which he might be able to borrow. If Markworth were in he would lend it like a shot, for he knew Mortimer hod had one himself until he had bought a car just before his marriage. %!ttd!" exclaimed Mortimer, rather t leased at the bare idea of whizzing own into the quiet country on a motorcycle, "if the thing's in anything like decent trim, I ought to do the thirty miles in something like an hour and a half—clear roads and fair weather!—?o I shouldn't be much later than if I'd caught the beastly train; that takes an hour, and then there's the walk." Markworth was in, and readily agreed to lend the machine.

"But there's something not quite right with it," he exclaimed apologetically; "it will take me twenty minutes or half an hours perhaps to fix it." "Oh!—tiresome!" growled Mortimer. "You'd better run out and wire tae trtissis! If she knows you're " "Our telegraph office was closed tea years ago. We live in the country, you know—<i mile and ,a-quartcr from the town,.where everything shuts at eight. You're on the telephone?" "Yes. Surely you're not, though?"

"Yes, we are. Living right out as we do it's a great convenience, and the Use ran not far from the house when we went there, so we got put on. I'll see if I can get through to her. Where's the instrument?" "Just there, in the hall." 'Til ring her up now, then, and perhaps by the time we've fixed the motor I shall have been put through to her." "All right!" returned Markworth, and they hurried out into the hall, Mortimer going to the telephone and Markworth to the lobby at the back of the hall where the cycie stood. "I sJay, Morty," exclaimed MarkTforth, as Mortimer left the telephone and approached him, "d'you say she's all alone—right out in the country, like that, too? What about all those wedding present, eh?"

"Confound you!" muttered Mortimer, after a moment's pause. "What d'you want to put an idea like that into n fellow's , mind for?—it's quite bad enough to think she's nervous', without thinking she's in any danger." 'Well, well," stammered Markworth, busy with a screw driver, "it struck in" that you had a handsome lot of thing;', and as they were fairly well advertised in the wedding notices, you stand some chance of being burgled, eh?" "Rub it in, rub it in," said Mortimer gloomily. "Let me get at the thing, o- I. shall be here all night; your fingers are all thumbs." He snatched the tool from his friend's hand and brushing him aside, got to work on the cycle.

In a quarter of an hour they had got the motor to work well, and Markworth got the pump on to the back tyre while Mortimer went and washed his hands. The telephone-bell rang as he came into the hall again. He sprang to the instalment.

"Hullo!" he cried. "Hullo! Through? Thank you—Hullo; that you Marion? I say, dearest, I'm frightfully sorry, DUt—-" "Oh, Gordon! where are you?" said his wife's voice, and he thought he heard a ring of fear in it. "Come home quickly, as quick as ever you can. I believe there's someone trying to break in."

"What?—what?" he gasped I "The dog has been barking madly,' said the voice, "but now he's quite quiet, and I believe they've killed him or done something . I could swear i saw someone prowling about the garden a few urinates ago, and oh! Gordon, I'm frightened—l'm frightened." "I'm coming now, at once," cried Mortmer, white to the lips. "I missed the by road—motor cycle —starting now. Cheer up!" "Ph, Gordon! I can hear someone; 1 can hear sounds. Oh!—someone is putting a !'U.r up to the house—to cut the telephone wire, I believe. Gordon, if vou love me " f'tjuick, Marion, quick! Ring lip tlw police—ring up the police! The number's on the tablet there—third number down. Quick!" ."I can hear men talking: they

seem ; ' , , si'i'llu"' exclaimed Markworth, wheeling •-»!<• <•-<■'« fprw» r « l - '•What's that I hear vou say abput police?" '.'BuVglais Q* something in the house. You're a prophet!" Mortimer pantej, snatching up his hat. '"fliey've cut the wire-cut it as she was *Jpeaking, just ns I told her to ring up the polic°! Open the door, quick!" Markworth bounded to the street-door and Hung it open, as Mortimer grasped the cycle. "How can I come?" he cried, excitedly "I want to come!'' " "You can't—how can you?" Mortimer shouted hoarsely, and ran the cycle out into the street. iGood 'luck to you! Good-bye! Good luck!" Markworth ran out into bhei road after him. "Let her go! let her whiz!" "Good-bye!" Mortimer returned, anil mhe wads were fairly clear, for the mTW after-theatre traffip had not »? begun. 90 Mprtimer made a. good Jace, tL.gh not such a,,t» p* h™j pulled v? by a limb of the lav. &till his «»-ed through the outskirts of Lqn,hn was such that a slight effort of Pagination would have made appear recessive, and the last minutes of the . first half-hour saw iifm flying along rural roads. , , The evele was running perfectly, an>< all the 'time Marion's voice seemed to be calling him in the tone of fright and appeal in which she mi called him ov t thTwire. The thought of jier in the hands; of such ruffians as would kill <>'■ drug the dog and cut the telephone Wire, horrllied him, particularly as he knew that, despite her timidness, she possessed a natural courage which would probably urge her to offer some defence of the valuables in the house; postblv she might threaten them with the pistol which was in the drawer o. the library table, and it was iinpos.lble to conceive what tl.at | . might provoke, in view of the fact that, - the men were dot mere chance robber,,. as of their precautions. He bad thought at the time that the dog had deliberately planned the robbery for the most ,«ultable time. * , And in this connection, Mortimers • »««plcioM fell upon the working honsemaid who had thrown up her situation

jo suddenly. She had not given notice until after she heard that lie had important business in Loudon, and then she had given only a few hours and sacrificed her wages in order to leave at once. That was certainly suspicious, I in view of what he feared was taking place in his absence from home, what hd judged to he a deliberately planned aud carefully timed robbery at the house. He recalled, too, the fa'et that the girl had on several occasions asked him for the key of the safe in the tattler's pantry, where all the plate was kept, and appeared disconcerted by his refusal to part with it, stammering lame explanations when the cook was a way, but only she was curious' to know how much treasure the safe contained, but he supposed now it was to take an impression of the key and thus facilitate the work of her confederates when their tune came. But what did suspicions matter now? To get home to Marion was all that mattered; to get home and lind her safe.

Safe? Would he find her safe? What was happening now, at this very moment, as he Hew on his cycle through a silent, sleeping village?* What had' already happened? In all probability the men were still in the house, for the safe, which contained practically all the valuables likely to b e stolen, could certainly not be picked or forced in less than an hour, though it was possible, in view of the isolated position of the house and the comparative freedom with which they could work, but the roobers would employ explosives for the purpose. But what had happened to Marion ? Even at this moment, as the cycle struggled up the steep incline of the moonlit hill, she might be lying unconscious, stunned bv a foul blow, or cruelly bound, a prey to the most agonising fears. And there is always the possibility in such cases' that tile robbers may fire the house to mask their previous deed.

He tried to dismiss all consideration of the .possibilities fi-om his mind as being weak and useless. But he was an imaginative man, and the situation gave endless scope for horrible imaginings. He sped on, mile after mile, now through a sleeping hamlet, presently along an empty, white road which seemed to wind before him like a long, wide ribbon. Once he overtook a light cart, in which four jovial men, apparently returning from some festival, where shouting a rousing song in beery voices. He passed two dazzling motor cars', and was himself overtaken by one, which dashed ahead of him at a speed that made him wildly impatient of his own. He kept a watchful eye for the milestones, and thus got an approximate idea of his speed and his nearness to his home, for he was not so familiar with the route for the other landmarks to help him judge.

He sped on and on, up hill, down dale, through deep, shadowed avenues, along great stretches of open road where the moonlight made the de'v spread banks and hedges sparkle; on and on. Ten miles from home—nine miles—eight miles. Mile after mile unrolled itself before him. He discarded caution even when clouds began to gather before the moon; and thus it hap. pened.

He was running do*a * steep decline when he suddenly perceived a red light in front of him. For # moment he sipposed it was a rear light of some vehicle. Then he realised that it was » danger signal, and some portion of the road was up. Instantly he stopped the motor, and, applying the brakes, steered to the right, with a vague idea that it was the left side of the road which was up; and the fore-wheel of the cycle struck the pole barrier before he perceived he had taken the wrong side. He felt the machine heel over beneath him, and he flung out his arms and touched something soon enough and with Sufficient force to save himself from pitching head first into deep hole; he landed at the bottom of it on his feet, and, his legs crumbling up underneath him, he tell in a heap on the wreck of his 'machine.

He was gradually recovering consciousness when he heard a motor ear roll slowly past. He called out -weakly, but no one heard him. He endeavored to rise, and he uttered a groan of despair as a spasm of pain told him that be had sprained his right ankle. He broke out with cold sweat .as be realised that now, only a matter of two miles away, he was utterly unaided, unless he crawled on hands and knees, which seemed impossible, and would certainly be useless.

Nevertheless he scrambled into an upright position, balancing himself on his sound leg, even which was painfully bruised;"indeed, lie ached from head to foot as a consequence oi his fall, striking a light, he examined his position, and found the surface of the road on a level with bis head.

He whs duly considering how lie could extricate himself, when he heard a motor cur approaching at a quick rate. His heart leapt at the sound, and getting a grip of the edge of the road surface, he drew himself up high enough to glance along the road. To his' chagrin the car was coming from the direction in which he wanted to go. Still, he thought, if he could make himself heard or seen, lie might induce the driver to carry him to the first village, where he could get a conveyance of sonic sort and a constable, and hurry back to Marion.

On the inspiration of the moment hv struck a match and held it above his head as a signal. Almost instantly it was blown out, but it seemed that the driver of the car had perceived it, for he sounded the horn. It was pretty certain, too, that the headlamps of the car would show the driver the shattered barrier, even the red light of warning had been extinguished, and he would slow down to avoid an accident, when Mortimer might attracting his attention by shouting and waving his arm. He ibegan to wave his arms now, for the car was approaching rapidly.

"Grurr! grurr!" sounded the Ciorn. "Grurr!"

The car was slowing down, and Mortimer heard more than one man talking in loud tones. He waved his arms. Then the car stopped . He could not see how near it was, but he shouted. The next moment he saw a man peering down at him.

"Hullo!" exclaimed the stranger. "What are you hiding for, or is that a timid pedestrian's shelter from the slaughtering motor?" "I've fallen down here and ricked my confounded ankle," Mortimer explained'. "Can you help me out and give me a lift?"

"Devilishly pressed for time, my friend," returned the man, shortly. "I'll see what my pals say." "Might have helped me out first," Mortimer muttered, as the stranger disappeared. What seemed to him a most unreasonable delay followed. He inferred from it that the travellers were | not too anxious to assist him, and therefore they were not so considerate as likely to be disposed to turn their car kick to oblige him, even if he explained the urgency of the case; they were hig-gie-liaggling whether to assist him along the road they were going, and, therefore, would ce.utinly decline to turn hack to oblige him, seeing that they were "devilishly pressed for time," too.

Still it would l>e something, he reflected, to get conveyed to a neighboring village where he could obtain assistance and a trap. "We can take you on to Sheringleigh. if that's any good to you—first village up," said the man on returning, and he lient and grasped Mortimer's right hand. A second came up at that moment and gave assistance. "I'm very much obliged to you, I'm sure,!; said Mortimer, breathlessly, when they dragged him out. "How far is it up? I want to gp the other way." '!'Boiit six miles. Sprry we can't turn back tp oblige you, but we're due in town npw," said the other man, evidently the other's' senior. f'Comc 'along, and get in." They helped him to the rear of the big car and helped him in. "You eon put your legs on the opposite seat," said the first man, kiqdly; "we're riding in front." "■Thank ypil,' Mortimer returned faintly, for lie had just given his ankle another wrench. They hurried away and took their ,'ucs' 1-eside the third man who was in the driver's seat, and the car started immediately. ]?qr a few minutes Mortimer devoted his thoughts to vaguely wondering what, had happened to Marion, then he bocame conscious of what his rescuers were saying, for they were talking in loud tones in order to make themselves i heard above the noise of the car, and it 1 is psubable'that they were more audible I to him on account of his position in

their rear than they had any idea of. fo r he heard what they said quito d:stinctly. even though he tried not to do,, until lie caught the suggestive phrase, "She must have ran 'em up he/ore w» cut it," uttered the voice qf tut elder

Mortimer started, and bit llis lip to stille a sharp exclamation.

"Beastly dog, you know, gave the cue," remarked the driver, "However,

. all's well that ends well." \ They were silent for a few minutce ',\ and Mortimer strained his cars to catch Jl the next word. The reference to tie [ dog, coming close upon the other phrase, convinced him that he had been rescued by the very ruffians from whom he had been racing against time to rescue Marion. What had happened! "Jolly pretty!' one of the men remarked loudly. "And plucky," added another, and it seemed to Mortimer that the voice rang with the note of admiration. "Yes! i think I'll call and apologise to-morrow." There was loud laughter at this, followed by silence. There was "something in the conversation and the men's humor that somewhat relieved Mortimer's fears concerning Marion. There was nothing aboil! these men to suggest that they were capable of harming a defenceless woman; after all, men are not necessarily radians because they poison a dog and cut telephone wires as precautionary measures when engaged in a dangerous enterprise. No, Marion was safe! He felt it confidently, and a great load ■was | lifted from his heart. ! "She must have rung 'em up befoie we cut it." He whispered the words softly to himself, wondering what they meant, and instantly understood. They had been surprised by the police! "Beastly nog, you know, gave the cue." The cue to Marion to ring up the police, of course! That was it. But Marion could not have done it. Markworth must have done it. That was it! Markworth had telephoned to the police, who had surprised the men. i

But the maimer of these men did not suggest that they had been foiled in a carefully planned robbery. Therefore, I probably—- | Mortimer glanced quickly down at the floor of the car, but he could see no i tiling. He bent forward and groped about with his left hand. Presently he touched something other than the seat,' yet beneath it. A bag or portmaneau ? He bent more forward aud rocked the : bag gently, and out of the tail of his' eye h e saw one of the men throw a backward look at him. So he rubbed his injured ankle and the man looked ahead again. Then he locked the bag again until it tilted forward, when he grasped the handle and drew it forth. Sunning his hand over its side he found it uneven, lumpy, not as a bag containing clothes would be: and it was heavy—so heavy that he had some difficulty in tilting it back into its place. As he 6ucceed'd

in doiug this, his hand touched another bag. He shifted his position slightly and touched the side of this second bag. It had a lumpy surface, too. _ He leant hack in the seat and bit his lip. He had not only been rescued by the men to rescue Marion from whom he had flown down from town, but was actually riding in the ear which was carrying oil' the loot from his safe. He did not doubt it: he was, indeed, convinced of it. He leant ove r the rear-door of the car and made a mental note of the number displayed there, even though he did not suppose the men would be so foolish as to exhibit and illuminate such a piece of evidence against themselves as the real number of the ear in which thov were escaping after committing a burglary. No; he did not fancv that was much of a clue. In point of fact, he was not hankering much after clues; what he wanted was to recover hi 3 property, and he did not think any clue would enable him to do that if 'he lost sight of it for twenty-four hours; probably in much less time than that it would pass into the melting pot. Clues eouM be right enough lo lead the police lo capture the men, and he considered h' had sufficient to effect that purpose. But he wanted to save his property. He drew a handkerchief from hij pocket and pulling it out by its extreme corners—on the bias, laid it across his knees. Then he bent forward and cautiously pulled out one of the bags, io which he tied one end of the handkerchief. There was little risk in doing this, ' since he would be practically invisible to the men were they to turn'their eyes from the glaring fights of the headlamps to where he sot in darkness. Quickly he took off his necktie, and attached it firmly to the handle of the second bag. Then,, assuring l himself by a glance that he was not watched, with an effort he lifted the bag and put it over the back of the ear. Slowly, inch by inch, he allowed the necktie io slip through his hand until the bag dangled a few inches above the road, when, by moving his arm backwards and for wards from the shoulder, he got the bag to swing slowly. He let it go as it swung well out beyond (he side of tU car, and by the light of the rear lamp he saw it descend into a ditch. Even he wlki was listening 10r it. heard on'v a dull -thud; to the men in the front scat it must have been inaudible. Til., lights of tile sigual-hux away ti the left told him thev were approaehiii" the village of Kheriiiglcigh. Time was short. So he was quicker and less cautious in dealing similarly with the other bag. But he was equally successful. Was there any more.'he wondered, or ■ had they- merely taken the pick of things';

He bent and ran his hand under both seats. Ho was startled by a voice. "Shall we put von down this or the other side of the village? There's a pub at both extremes." 'The other Hide, please," he shouted back, for he had found a third bag—a ha? that was almost a trunk, indeed. When he tried to wriggle this ling from under.the seat, he doubted whether he could deal with it. It Had 10 handle that he could (hid, and to lift it with one hand was out of the question. lie glanced along the road ahead of them, calculating how many seconds be

might have in which to win the third trick, and saw the glare of many naphllic lamps in which he took to be the centre of the village. Instantly he recalled the fact that on his way down n • had subconsciously noticed a -sort of

village fair going on. It inspired him. Throwing caution to the winds ho reaciicd down and dragged the leather trunk to the door of the car, and opened the door of the car. The next minute, as the car ran through the village, he shoved the trunk out into the road.

"Stop! Stop! You've run over something," he bawled to the men in front, "Stop! .Stop!" A few members of the little crowd in the road, turning from watching tiie trunk, and shouted lustily.

The driver, evidently taken by sur prise, slowed down.

'•Rui| over something?" he gasped. "What!" "Co on! Don't stop here! Go on!" cried the two other men in alarm, seeing the villagers running towards them. The car si|ot forward with a jerk,' but Mortimer, lame though lie was,' had already slipped out into the road.

A dozen hands helped him to his feet, and when lie had recovered his breath', he gave a brief explanation to the epi'i

Stable who hurried up from watcljing the fair in the interest pf public order, "Well, f never!" was all the constable, found to say, and he gazed helplessly in tlie direction in which the ear nad'dlsappeared a minute or so before. A quarter of an hour later, Mortimer was assisted into a light cart engaged at one of the inns, and saw to the trunk

being put in at the back. Then a fresh start was made to .each Marion. It

was more sueees-'ul than the first, even though Moi'timi- 'topped twice on the way, and to his ."lief found her safe anil unharmed, though naturally a good deal collapsed. She assured him that the burglars had treated her most gallantly. «o that when he opened the bag and trunk apd found he ltad lost iiw

tiling he'began to think.they deserved letting alone.

But the clues were tQo strpn" for that, •■ ■■■" ••-