A DESPERATE GAME.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10114, 8 October 1910, Page 2

A DESPERATE GAME.

(OUR SERIAL.)

By OWEN MASTERS. Author of "The Master of Tredcroft," "One Impassioned Hour," "The Dcvercl Heritage," "When Love Rules the Heart," "Captain Emlyii's JJride," etc.

CHAPTER Xlll.—Continued. It was a plausablo lie. If I had not seen him carry her along the garden patli; if I had not caught a glimpse of her still white face as the car passed slowly beneath the lamp in Hampstead, I should have believed it. And 1 had to take it as lie said it, because to convict him of lying was to prove myself a liar. "She has gone?" I said. "Yos." "Leaving no word?" "None." "She lirouglit luggage with her?" "Nothing." "And took nothing with her?" "Nothing." "And money " "She hod none." I drew a long breath. If lie spoke he truth, hero was another mystery added to the number. Again the silence descended upon us, and we stood regarding one another as if seeking time for fresh falsehoods. "I will go back to London," I said.

"You will not stay " Maynard began. "If you find her you will tell us," the gii'l cried, divining with a woman's instinct my inner thought. "Money " Maynard began. "I have plenty," I replied. An hour later I was back at Coyton station; in two hours I was in London. One thing at least I had gained by my journey; Maynarcl Drew was married, and he loved his wife. Jealousy had sharpened my vision, and I learned that. *My heart was the lighter for it. But the disappearance of Constance —and l. believed that part of the story because of the whisper I had caught from Maynard's wife—had hut added another mystery to the many in which I was wading far beyond my depth.

self, here I stay!" There was a long silence, then he took his gloves and umbrella and went towards the door. He stopped ji moment there; as if he intended to ray something, but apparently he changed his mind, for without another word he proceeded on his way and went downstairs. Then began for me a weary period of waiting and suspense. I made many plans and did much theorising, but could see no ray of daylight piercing the fog that surrounded me I .oknidd ol ydt AAfluunu ed inc. I did not know where to begin. Curiously enough, though I would not admit it to myself, the discovery that Maynard Drew was married had made m? much loss eager than I had been to prove that he was the real criminal in the Coy ton jewel robbery. And, besides, I was waiting for Nora Hardcastlo. True, I knew nothing of her, more than suspected her, in fact, of complicity in the murder of Mr Vanneck, and possessed no sort of guarantee that she was really in possession of information that would help me to prove my innocence and to re-establish my good name. But there was that one hundred pounds. There must be something in it, I thought, or she would not have backed it with so large a sum of money, unless, indeed, that was meant merely to lull me into silence and a false security. _' Four days went by like this, and then one evening things made a move. I was seated in my room, smoking a pipe, and going once more through Joels monumental collection of clippings, when the old man himself brought mi? a note which lie said had been left at the door by a woman. "Nora Hardcastlo," I said to myself, and that impression was confirmed when I read the contents of the missive. It ran thus:

CHAPTER XIV

A PRISONER. I had not been home two hours when 1 was astonished to receive a second call from Cousin Ephraim. I had quite thought that the previous interview had ended the little matter between him and me. "I have come," he said, "to renew my offer and our conversatioin. I am very anxious to help you." "Or to"get me out of the country," I said lightly, though with an undercurrent of bitterness. "Perhaps, that too," he replied franklv. "I have made no secret of it." "You have not," I rejoined; "you have been open and frank to the verge of brutality." "Brutality is a strong word." "Which makes it the due equivalent to your action. You would get rid of-me without helping mc if you could." "That may or may not he the ease," he said, with unabated tranquility. "And if it wore so, whose fault is that? You plunged into evil courses and met disaster. I did not invite yen to bet on horses." "I never did bet on horses." lie raised his eyebrows, and smiled in his slow, half-sardonic fashion. "At all events you got into debt," ho went on.

"If you are really determined to prove your innocence, await me by the main entrance to the British Museum to-night at eight o'clock." That was all—no signature, no address, though in a handwriting that was evidently a man's. I wasted no time, however, in speculation, but prepared at once hurriedly for going out. In fact, I was at the meeting place just as the hour was chiming from the neighbouring clocks, but early as I was I found a man here before me. Evidently he had no intention of keeping me waiting. "Mr Ronald Normington ?" A strange voice put the question as my steps halted before the huge gates of the museum. I turned and surveyed the speaker with quick, eager glances, but decided, promptly enough that both face and figure were absolutely unfamiliar to me. "I am he," I said. "Who are you?" "I come from " He. paused and pointed to a motor car standing at the corner of the street some twenty yards away. "Never mind,' 'he went on brusquely, "you will know in good time from whom I come. I know nothing of the ,matter save that I had to meet Mr Jlonald Normington." "But now that you have met me—what?"

"There again you are wrong. I never owed a penny in my life." "Well, you certainly borrowed from the qjthcr man—what was his—ah, yes—Drew.;' "I did not borrow from him." "The evidence " "On that point, as on others, was faked."

"The jury did not think so," he sneered.

"And therefore I went into penal servitude. Precisely." "Just so; and now that you are out again, I find you in my way. As you put it, I want to he rid of you. Let vis accept that interpretation, which is your own. But anything 1 want I am willing to purchase, to pay for." "Perhaps you want me to sell my chance of establishing my innocence."

"I have to take you with mo, of course. You could not discuss—er—business here. I have brought the motor car, and wo can be there in three hours." "Three hours! It is a long wav, then?" "Yes—it is a very long wav." "Well, but " "Look here, Mr Normington," he interrupted, with a peremptory wave of his hand. "You may come or you may not. If you feel any doubts, turn right back and go home. I may not tell you from home I come, nor where wo are going, nor who I am. If you keep on questioning me, you will cause me to lie ,a.ud that would' be a pity. Now, will you come or will you go home?" "I will come, of course." "That's right. Then we can be nice and easy. Nobody means you any harm, that I know." "I am ready. s ''

He laughed soitily, in such a way that my blood boiled to hear him. But I did not mean to quarrel with him, and maintained my outward tranquility. Indeed, I had no reason for quarrelling. I had no claim on his help, and since I had been the petitioner, he had the right to impose conditions. The suave air of stout, almost oily prosperity which pervaded him irritated me, illogically enough, but none the less certainly, and made me irascible and axcited when I should have been ;;s icy as himself. "You offer me money on one «.midition," i went on ; "J refuse that condition." "Refuse P" "Peremptorily. Nothing v.ill induce me to leave England. The condition is impossible. Can I hare the money minus the condition?" "Not a penny!" "Then our negotiations end here.'"' "You remain in England?" "Yes." "You will nob remain in England. I have said that you shall go, and go you shall." I recollected Vanneck's words and laughed aloud. "Nothing would induce me to leave England," I continued. "You may harry me from point to point, rake up murder charges against me, but if it loads me to the gallows it-

Two mimics later we were in the motor car, and 'were making our way due east, keeping a moderate, equitable pace at first, but increasing in speed as we passed clear of the city, until we were racing along at a rato that spoke well for the make and class of the car, but winch wduld have met with scant consideration at the hands of the local magistracy had wo been hauled up. The flat surroundings and level roads of the country north of the Thames are uninspiring by daylight, but at night, in the darkness, rendered denser by the white fog drifting in from river and sea, the country is unspeakably dreary. But even so, it was no more than attuned to my own sombre thoughts. It is cold driving with that raw, damp touch in the air which is far worse, even than the nip of the frost, but there were rugs in the ear, in which I embedded myself as snugly as possible, leaving everything to my companion, who seemed as impervious to cold as lie was to questioning. iTo Be Continued.)