Silas Dennington's Money,

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10677, 4 July 1912, Page 2

Silas Dennington's Money,

'OUR SERIAL.)

BY F. L. DACRE.

CHAPTER XV.

TOM WAYuVIAN EFFERVESCES

Jack's confession to Rosamurd brought him infinite relief. Ho went about his work eherfnlly, and, indeed, ho was extremely busy. There was a long installment of his story to .vrite every week, a page of correspondence, bristling with such "teasers" that boys alone know how to ask; yards of "proofs" to wade through, in addition to the commercial side of the business. The paper was going well. He oall-sd it the nucleus—the parent body, from which some wonderful shoots were certain to spring. Ho had had his writing desk put in the bay window, so that whenever.he looked across the street, either by nccident or by design, he could see Rosamund's window, and very, very often Rosamund herself. It was astonishing how much work she found to do there now. And they smiled nt each other, and blew kisser, unattractive street. Tt was the clay after Jrc' -•* '■- ed his identity to Rosauvr.iid, and He was worrying about Crantloy. Grantley had not shown up at his chambers for several days, and he had heard nothing of him. It was an understood thing that no correspondence of any kind passed between them, for obvious reasons, and the use of the telephone was barred on the same grounds. He talked it over with Teddy Brown and Brown offered to run down to Bennington Court.

"Good!" said Jack. "T feel easier now. When will you go?" "This afternoon. I might get someone to telephone to your brother, bur I don't advise anything that is like'v to arouse suspicion. I met Sir Pet«r Tempest in Piccadilly yeslerdav " Oh!" .Jack started. 'I couldn't shake him off until he bad given me a detailed list of his m\,aim to my bank—a loan, of voun(t . Jews. Brown paused, and for •., niin i ought to tell you sir, that vour brother has arranged fork mortgaS'f So W t P-™ 8 ° ffered t0 m V'People, bu I advised them not to'Juc, it- .Dont want too much of the famdy in one bag." • 7'V 1 ",°1 a bit surprised," .T.«.y v «shcd. "The money ii for that oM nunmny of a man-Sir Peter. % v ,i c!!\ \r'n e S °\ - Pleilt - y of tbe'dust. Go to the Court this afternoon. Brown ami report to me to-night. I „,,n>t stir away from tho office." Just then Mr Watson whistled up tnrough the speaking tube. Mr \ 7 lv mas, the artist, was waiting. "Send him up," , Jack ans , vol , Ht turning to Brown he continued: "I wrote tb Waymn and Miss Jinks to call—about the now women's journal I should imagine that tho 'captain' is about the best person to find suitable contributors."

"You moan-to go one with it ;iov,?' ! Yes." Brow,, laughed, and shook his iie.vT 1 like your pluck, but " "Hang the <buts.' Honest labour brings satisfaction, and there's notliiii" like it for one's peace of mind. Our credit will soon be good for a few thousands, so that we shan't need to ,"'; on tlle hauk so frequently." "There isn't much left to draw against."

As Brown, passed out of the room, Jom Wayman came in. He was smiling cheerfully, as usual, hut a porfon of his beaming face was hidden by a bandage, and only one eye visible. "Hello!" said Jack. " "What have you been up to?"

"I call it erysipelas to most people, but as to lying to you sir—perish the thought! The'fact is, on my , wav home last evening, on tho train, I met with an accident. A meek little curate sat opposite to me, and was buried in a big newspaper. I struck a match to light a cigarette, and i>, some way the flame caught the edge of the newspaper, and up it flared! In the argument that followed, I bumped my eye against his fist!"

"I see," Jack smiled. "Served vcm right." "Of course, ho apologised." "Shut up! You are a genius, Wayman, and most menof genius act more or less like lunatics at times. Let us have as little of it as possible in the office. Close the door; I want to talk to you." "Delighted!" beamed Wayman. He skipped across to the door, shut It, and came back to his chair. "Mav I smoke?"

"Go ahead. Would you like a cigar?" "No, thanks; unless you want my death on your soul. My effervescing brain won't stand anything stronger than Woodbines—five for a penny." Jack reached for a cigar, lighted it reflectively, watching Wayman the while.

"I believe you are a genuine sort c.f a chap," ho said presently, "and if you'll tell me something I want to know 111 take' you out to lunch, and

Author of "He-Id in Bondage," <! A Phantom of the ?aci, :: John's Heiress," "I'he Shadow of Shams.." "A Daughter of Mystery," etc.

double your present ir:c;me as hv as this oihec is concerned. ?:

''Bribery and cornmtior., Mr CWlo;nn»»e!" He jumped'up and pished Ins half-sjnokpd cigarette through tl.e window. "I knon- what you mr-,n." He jerked his head in the direction of the curiosity shop.. "I hinted at it but you snubbed me. You've hung up your hat over there, and you want to help the old man." "How do you know?" asked Jack reddening. ' "Everybody knows—in this office When a man's face become glorified at the sight of the 'desire of his heart—' There she is at the window.'-' "Damn your impertinence!" Jack began furiously. "Take me to lunch first—l'm peckish. No breakfast this morning. My landlady swore that heavy food would cause my erysipelas to become more inflamed, and that mortification might ensue. In the end she served me up a currant bun, and I hurled it through ' the window at a passing cabman. I had the satisfaction of seeing him jump down from his box, and'cuff the cars of an imp of a schoolboy. Then came your letter. Gatti's restaurant, sir. A succulent chop, and a pint of porter. A cozy little comer—a multitude of base whispers, and the traitorous deed is done!' Jack got up, and reached for his hat. "Come along," he said. It wanted ten minutes to noon when they entered the restaurant, and there was no difficulty in finding a table to themselves.

"The far end," suggested Wayman ; "there we can talk and smoke, and slip out the back door without paying the bill, if funds are low !" "Go ahead. You seem to know the ropes here." Several of the flat-footed waiters nodded to the artist, hoping that he and his friend would take seats at their respective tables, but they pushed on to the end of the dining room. "Here we are, JVIr Castlemaine!" said Tom. "This is where I bring my best girl when I can afford a night at the theatre. It's a case of chops and steaks at this unholy hour —and ship potatoes." "Anything will do for me," Jack said. "Chops and chips for two," the artist told the solicitous waiter. "Yes, sir. Anything to drink? Ale, stout, lager, coffee, tea?" he insinuated. "Lager," Jack decided. "Two lager beers. How long?" "Ten minutes, sir." "That means half an hour. May as well get through with my villainy while the poison is being prepared, Mr ■Castlemaine."

He lit a cigarette, and pondered for ! a moment. Jack waited with all the ' patience he could muster. He swore hto himself that he wasn't a bit eurj ious; he had no desire to pry into any man's affairs, only with a desire to I help that man. He was only taking a very human interest in Theodore Grant because he was going to marry Theodore Grant's daughter. It was more for Rosamund's sake than her father's. He waited for Wayman to , begin. "Jn the first place," said the artist, "you must never breathe a word of what I tell you, or there will be more than a barrelful of trouble! It might get my father up before the Incorporated Law Society. You see, he's MiGrant's lawyer. The house and tiie business were bequeathed to Grant by an elder brother, under certain conditions, and it's these conditions that ! make the cat jump. I was a clerk in my father's office, and actually engrossed George Grant's will. His brother, Theodore, was his only living relative, if we except Miss Rosamund Grant, and there bad never been any love lost between the two men. George was a shopkeeper, and Theodore a college professor. Theodore looked down upon George, and he's a bit of a snob if you upset him. Well, George got his own back at the finish. He left most of his property to various charitable institutions—all but the shop and the stock. These went to Theodore, providing he went to live in Nether Street, and retailed the whole of the goods with his own hands, at the prices entered in the stock book. If he sold them for a fraction less, or employed another to attend to the shop, then the whole caboose reverted to a society for the propagation of the suffrage movement." Jack smiled incredulously.

"Truth, sir, and there's more to come. The stock was valued at six thousand pounds, but every article was priced at double its value, so that Theodore Grant is doomed to a lingering death. People won't pay his prices, and he'll never sell out this side of the grave. Now for the part that affects you. If Miss Grant marries before the stock is sold, under the conditions of lior uncle's will, her father will be chucked into the "street, penniless. Naturally, a good many chaps have cast their eyes upon so much loveliness, but the old man has given them the big stick in quick order. Miss Grant doesn't know a word of what'l have told you, and that old villain of an uncle must he chuckling among the brimstone." "Why on earth did Mr Grant accept the property?" (To lie Continued).