A DEEP GAME. OR THE HONOUR OF THE TREVELLANS.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10573, 2 March 1912, Page 2

A DEEP GAME. OR THE HONOUR OF THE TREVELLANS.

our serial

By Mi* Da Winter fiakw c Author of «*The Bin of Pr»te««,». 'Fo*

CHAPTER XLVlll—Continued. "Just n few more questions," he said affably. "Tell me—did Sir Thomas know you and Grace Jason Were married?" "Xo." "Why did your wife leavo you?" "She gob ill after the child was born. She left me and took it away to her brother in the country." "What did you do?" "F chucked the orfis —got sick of it." "Did von go to vour wife?" "Xo."' "Send her any money?" " 'Adn't none to send." Colo stopped again for a moment at this point. This, of course, explained the begging letters that had been writton to Sir Thomas. "Your wife came back to you afterwards?" ho resumed. "Yus —said she'd got a job down in Cornwall and was 'going to take the child with her. Promised to ipay me twenty hob a week to keep out of the way. I said 'Done'," "And you have had your twenty bob a week regularly and haven't done a stroke of ,work for eighteen years. The other day, under instructions from your wife and Mark Jason, you sent a wire to Sir Eric Trcvellan. and signed it "Lettiee." Am I right?" "Puffickly—you'ro a marvel. But you're a nark, and narks know everything. Come on, 'and over the pelf— I'm tired of narks."

"Will you sign the story if I write it out for you?" " 'Ere, 'old 'ard. You said twentyfive ibob for answering questions, not fer writing." "I'll make it forty—two golden sovereigns Mr Omer." "Done. I'll sign anything for two 'jimmy o' goblins." Cole drew out his pocketbook and a fountain pen a.nd proceeded to set out tlio story of William Omer's marriage and birth of Margaret in full. With a deal of assistance and much labour, Omer .appended his signature thereto and held out his hand for the money. "One more question go," said Colo, replacing pen and pocketbook with a satisfied .smile. "Have you any idea of what your wife and Jason have heen doing up to tins time, !at all?"

"No—and don't want to, s'long as j I .get my twenty 'bob >a week and not j bothered," was the casual reply. Ten minutes later Cole w'as buzzing westward fast as taxi could .ran. He buttoned on his collar and adjusted his tie in the small strip of mirror, then sat back and smiled. By this time Omer would be happily drunk again, and if Grace Omer now found him would get nothing out of him. Meanwhile the amateur detective Avas quite ready to hand over his job to one of the -regular profession. Calling at .Scotland Yard he had a brief interview with one of the in- j spectors that ho knew. A plain clothes man left for Pigeon Alley a few minutes later. . Returning to the waiting taxi, Cole aiow gave the address of Eric's chambers in Half Moon Street. He sat back wearily in the had l>een a busy day. CHAPTER XLIX. ) A RECONCILIATION. It was well after midnight when Cole returned, exhausted, to his rooms in the Albany. His search for Eric had been a total failure. The man seemed to have vanished. At Half Moon' Street Eric's valet bad been surprised to find that he was not still at the castle. In reply to "Cole's questions he vouchsafed that Eric had never been to his rooms since his departure for Cornwall. This was a poser for Cole. He hurried off to Eric's club, to be met with .similar news there. Eric had not been seen at the club for.several days. Cole happened to be a member of the club himself, and he made enquiries of several mutual friends and young men about town whom ho gathered together in the smoking room. No, they had quite lost sight of Sir Eric. None of them .had run across him in his usual haunts.

As it was well after nine o'clock ■when lie reached this stage of his search, Cole found himself faced by the unpleasant task of informing Lettiee that she must possess her soul in patience till the morrow. He sat down iu his club and wrote her an encouraging note, ai assuring her that her lover was bound to turn up on the morrow. Briefly he recounted the result of his visit to Pigeon Alley. "There is not the slightest stain oii the Trevellan honour," he wrote. "Lady Trevellan has been the victim of the cleverest and most outrageous trick that I have ever heard of." Summoning a district messenger, ho despatched the lad in a cab ,anci once more set off, this time to visit a few men of his acquaintance who might possibly have- seen Eric. This again .proving abortive, he looked in at most of the fashionable restaurants of which Eric was a habitue, but the waiters were one and .all convinced that they had not .seen Eric. His final move was to pay another visit to Scotland Yard and to obtain the assurance of his friend the. inspector that every help would be forthcoming from that quarter to help Lo unearth the missing baronet. Here, too, he .learned that Grace 0mer Mas already being shadowed, the-

plain clothes man having telephoned to say that she had duly turned up -ut Pigeon Ail ley. She remained there for some time and had then gone off to a cheap hotel in Hloomsbury.

It was now arranged between Cole and tho inspector that William Omer's signed declanaition sliovild be taken down to Lady Trevellan without delay, and that the dowager should bo asked to givo what information in her power so as to allow the police to issue a warrant for Hie 'arrest of -both Omer and Jason. The inspector informed Cole that tho records at the Kensington Registry Offiico had already been thoroughly searched and William Omer's story authenticated. Ho laughed when Cole told him that Jason had probably escaped to the Continent by this time. "We'll find him when" wo want hhu, Mr Cole. That type of cowardly blackguard is small fry to us here at the Yard." Nothing more could be done that night, so, as lias already, been stated, Colo went, fogged out, to his rooms in the Albany. To return to Lettice —she was pounced upon eagerly by her elder sister as soon as she arrived back at Lexingham Gardens. Adelaide thought that Lettice had been playing some kind ot 'practical joke down at Trevellan Castle, and spoko sharply. As soon, however, as she was permitted an opportunity of doing so, Lettice related the story of her ter;rible experience, and the two sisters 1 now sat discussing the matter. I Adelaide, who was five years Lettice's senior, was an exceptionally handsome .girl, with dark, flashing eyes, and raven black hair, Ever since their 'mother's death she had taken charge of Lettice, and her treatment had, at times been a little harsh, perhaps, toward one she could never regard as other than a mere child, Sho was vastly indignant when she learned that no effort had been made immediately to arrest Omer and Jason. "Yes, dear," said Lettice, "but I never for a moment ceased to think: (of the man I love, and what it would I mean to him if this dreadful scandal j were made public. As long as I am j sure of his love and his faith in .me, I j shall never lay a charge against those wretches. Adelaide, dear, you have never been in love —you don't know what it means to mo to kno\y that my poor boy's name and reputation are at the mercy of those two fiends." "But you say that this Norman Cole seems to think that tho whole affair is a huge trick," asked, Adelaide. "Yes—yes. Oh, he is such a clever man—l am sure you will like him —so quiet and confident in all he does and says. I am expecting him at almost any moment with Eric now." But as the hours went by, and never brought a sign of Eric or his friend, Lettice's excitement turned into despondency. Adelaide watched her little sister m silence for some time, and seeing her disappointment, felt a novel sensation growing within her — a sensation of pity for this soft, fair baby girl who had borne so much trouble with so much courage. Love of a man had never come to thrill Adelaide's heart. She had always (been stand-offish to the many admirers who had sought her hand. And now, when she saw what love J could do for a girl, how it could be allsufficient, inspiring courage and fortitude beyond belief, she began to see Lettice in a new light. She crossed to where her younger sister sat and looked at the street outside.

"Lettice." she began a little confusedly, 'but none the. less resolutely, "this'is a wonderful thing you have told me of—this love. My heart has never known it—perhaps never willhut oh, how I envy you! Dear, we have not been very good friends before, I know. It has been my fault—l have treated you too much like a child, forgetting that you were growing up. Will you forgive me and let us begin all ovcr'tfgam? T want to .be a good sister to'you, for I think you are the pluckiest," dearest little girl in the. world!' 1 "Adelaide!" Lettice was up in an instant from her chair. She caught her sister by the waist and forced her lr.to a. vacant .chair. Then, like a trusting child, siio nestled on the elder girl's Iviiee. and put her arm round her leek. "You old deair," washer only remark, as she kissed her over and over ngam. The grinding of brakes and the throb of motor engines brought both the girls to their feet, Lettice rushed to the ■ door to find a district messenger boy with Cole's letter. Feverishly she to: e it open. Sir Eric not found yet—but the \vcvellan. honour clear and unsullied! She,, held out the letter to Adelaide, and together, with their arms round each other's waists the two sisters read the mixture of disappointment and joyous news. (To be Continued.)