The Scales of Justice.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8504, 7 August 1907, Page 2

The Scales of Justice.

CHAPTER Vll.—Continued

"It is impossible for your man to get clear away," he said. _ "I'm not so sure about that, sir, the officer responded. "He had assistance. Somebody managed to lassoo one of the warders and gag him. It's pretty certain that the prisoner did not co that. One of the cleverest things I ever heard of, and the man was not missed till late this evening. A bit of an oversight, perhaps, but there it was. And when we missed the warder as well, we began to suspect things." "I hope your man was not any tne worse,""George suggested. "No, sir; it wasn't what you might'call violence exactly. A bit bruised and cold from lying there so long. It was a neat dodge, but one might expect that kind of thing from a prisoner of education." So the escaped convict was a gentleman, and a man of education, George thought. Well, he might have expected that, after what Flora Cameron had told him. The man with the lantern had not the faintest idea of the identity of the escaped Drisoner, and it was obvious that he was telling the truth as he said so. Behind a belt of shrubs, George could see other lights flickering. He hoped that the convict was hiding close somewhere. * It would be just as well, George determined, to find out exactly how many warders were present to-night, so that if one was left behind to watch, the fact would be known. There were four of them altogether, and they were playing a game of grim hide-and-seek in the bushes. "Are you quite sure that your man came in this direction?" George "Quite sure, sir," the other said. "The snow helped us a little, and our gentleman had not yet got rid of his prison boots. Then the snow came down again and baffled us. I expect you know the place, sir, seeing that you live in the house?" "I don't live in the house," George explained. "I am a visitor here. All the same, I know the place very well indeed; I have known it intimately from a boy. I suppose you want to discover if there are any good hiding-places here?" "That's it, sir," the other exclaimed. "Out-houses and all that kind of thing." George wanted nothing better. As .a matter of fact, there were many places on the ground where a prisoner could hide for a long time, and George indicated some .of them. He did so in a loud voice, so that he might warn anybody. There was a sound of scuffling presently, and the noise of a blow, and George felt his heart beating painfully fast. "Got him I" somebody cried. "Got him, clean and clever. This way, mates." The cry of exultation was quickly turned into a growl of discomfort as the figure of a man, held by two of the warders, emerged into the ring of light made by a lantern. It was clear from the first glance that the captive was no escaped convict. The man was tall and powerful, he had a black beard, and a pair of powerful dark eyes. He was quite well dressed, with a suit of rough homespun. There was a sardonic smile on his face. ".Shot at the pigeon and killed the crow," he said. "What am I doing here? Well, I guess that that's none of your business. You can't prove that I'm doing any harm, and even if you could, you are not policemen. My name, eh f Well, it's James Marston." "James Marston, the poacher," one of the warders growled. "Most people suspect me of being a poacher," the dark man said coolly. "I have had to suffer under that reproach for years. As a matter of jfact, I've never beeu convicted of poaching, and, what's more, I have .never been before a magistrate on suspicion." "But you are trespassing," George said. "I am perfectly well aware of the fact, Captain Drummo*:d," was the quick reply. "Trespassing is not an •offence so long as you don't do any harm. I lost a dog, and I am looking for him here; I expect he has been caught in some poacher's wire. You will find that Dr. Beard will not object to my being here." The man set his hat more firmly on iiis head, and vanished into the night. George knew the man very well .indeed, and his reputation. He would have liked to detain him, but .there were more pressing things to •occupy his attention. The warders were all busy again Jooking about the grounds, though with fainter . hopes of success. "Well, lads, we'll just go through the plantation at the back of the house,again," said] the one who apbe the leader. "I suppose there is no chance that our gentlei man has mada a bolt of it and got into the hoys? somewhere." "I think you can make your mind quite easy on that score," George said. "Only a trained burglar could break into the Moat House." "I suppose that's about right, sii% " the leader said. "A good look, mind, ; lads, and then the best thing we can do is to get back to the gaol again. Its long odds that our man has found his friends by this time and got clear away." George returned to the house and closed the door, satisfied that he had done his best to carry out Flora Cameron's wishes. The convict had managed to give his pursuers the slip just in the nick of time, and he was hiding somewhere close by. But would he come back again? It looked as if that was the intention, especially after whit Flora had said. And if he did come back, aid all the doors

By PEED M. WHITE, [Published By Special Arrangement.] {All Rights Reserved.]

and windows were fastened, how would he manage to let Flora know that he was at hand? Tired as ho was, George resolved to sit up and watch. His own window was open, and there-was a good fire in his room. Perhaps Flora would be waiting in the corridor to know whether the prison warders had been successful or not. The house was quiet chough now, and very dark. It wa? fortunate that George was familiar with the way. The little green door opened quietly, and George fastened it on the inside. Very gently he made his way up the stairs, and in the direction of his own , room. There was no light in the corridor, and he had to fumble his way along aa best he cuuld. He could see slits of light under one or two doors, denoting the fact that the occupants of more than one bedroom had not yet finally retired for the night. • George waited a [brief space to see if Flora would appear. He did not dare to give any loud signal of his presence, and there was no sign of Miss Cameron. Well, perhaps she would come back when she felt that it was safe. And it would be easy for George to put his light out, and leave his door open. He could lie on his bed and doze, trusting to his quick hearing to bring to him the first signal. Many a time had he done the like in South Africa. He laid his finger on the knob of the door, and turned it. He turned it twice, and pushed the door, steadily, but it did not give. The door of the room v/as locked on the inside. It was a startling, and not too pleasant, discovery. Even now it did not occur to George that perhaps there was somebody in the room. It was just possible that the bedroom door had a spring lock; perhaps at one time the bedroom had been used as an office, the owner of which did not care for the eyes of servants prying about. George turned away, and hesitated for a moment in sjme perplexity, "There is only one thing for it," he muttered. "I daresay I can manage it without those warders seeing me. It sounds almost like a farce but there is nothing else to be done."

CHAPTER VIII. A FRIEND IN NEED. George congratulated himself on the fact that he had not removed any of his clothing. He had even donned his boots and slipped on his big coat before he left the room. The South African training had taught him to do that almost without thinking. But in all the many strange situations he had been in during the last two years he could recall nothing like the present one.

The thing did not look like an act of impertinence -on anybody's part, nor did George see how anybody could have slipped by him in the gloom of the corridor. On the othe* - hand,.he was quite certain that nobody had been hiding in his room. There were no cupboards or .anything of that kind, and under his bed he had pushed the larger of his pair of kit-bags, so that he would have noticed if anyo-ie had been .hiding there. The situation was as vexatious as it was absurd. Then a simple solution of the case offered itself to George. He had left the windowslightly open, as most healthy people do nowadays the wind was strong outside, and perhaps the door had slammed to and the lock caught. Very carefully, so as to disturb nobody, George tried the door, but it was as fast as if it had been bolted top and bottom. He examined the old-fashioned .lock as carefully as he could in the feeble light. Beyond doubt, the bolt had slipped-; He had given trouble .enough as it was, and he did not like to disturb the household. Besides, lie was a little at a loss to account for what he was doing in the corridor at that time of night. There was only one thing to be done. Again instinct warned him that he must not let Dr. lieard know that he had been watched. Ridiculous as it seemed, there was only one thing for it, George stood there, trying to puzzle out the geography house. Years ago, it will be remembered, the Moat had been the family dower-house, and Sir Devereux's mother had lived there. George had played hide-and-seek in the passages as a boy before the Camerons came there, and all the strange village gossip had followed them. It had all come back to George at Flora's reminder. There was a staircase, leading into a back hall under the turret, whence Charles 11. was supposed to have escaped once upon a time —the way, in fact, that George had just gone to the garden. George could get out by this side entrance again, and make his way to the lawn and creep down and fasten up the back door once more. (To be Continued.)