"TWO ON THE ROAD"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 27 September 1938, Page 12

"TWO ON THE ROAD"

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT COPYRIGHT.

BY

JOHN MACLEOD

CHAPTER I. “John Smith? Struth!” There was heavy sarcasm in the small tramp’s tone as he glanced at his companion. He had just asked him his name and, after a slight hesitation, the reply had .come. “Call me Smith —John Smith.” Shep’s raised eyebrows clearly indicated that he accepted the name with a proverbial pinch of salt. “Well,” demanded Smith, “anything wrong with it?” “Oh, no, nothing much wrong with it. I was just thinking it sounded kinda familiar. I seem to have heard it somewhere before.” Smith smiled. “Quite possibly. It’s been in the family for years.” Shep grunted and relapsed into silence. After all, one name was as good as another to him, but somehow Smith seemed a weak sort of invention—and John Smith at that. If one wanted to hide one’s identity it could be much more easily done by adopting something a little less obviously an alias. Anyhow, it was none of Shep’s business; he had merely wanted something more familiar to address his companion by than “Hey, you!” and Smith would do as well as any other. “And what’s your name?” asked Smith. Shep also hesitated, but for an entirely different reason. “Shepley de Govett,” he answered at last, and the reason was at once apparent. “Don’t ask me how or why, ’cos I’ve got no idea. It’s been more trouble to me than anything else, so it’s been cut down to Shep.” Smith looked at him and smiled. For a tramp, the name fitted no better than Smith. Had they been reversed, had Smith claimed the title of Shepley de Govett and Shep confessed to the name of Smith, there would have oeen much less cause for surprise. Smith, although almost as disreputable as Shep, could have carried the name credibly. He was tall, well built, and moved with an' easy grace; indeed, it might be said, with an easy insolence . Supremely confident in himself, he was handsome under his three days’ growth of beard, and he knew it. Shep, on the other hand, was small, inclined to stoutness, probably through persistent inactivity, and the name of Smith would have fitted him like a glove. His weatherbeaten face, tanned by a thousand suns, and buffeted by wind and rain, lodked as if it had gone red right through. Shep’s outlook on life Avas expressed in ins face. A naturally gloomy look betrayed the pessimist in him, which the life of the road has probably intensified. It is an uncertain existence at the best of times. Possibly about thirty-two, he would be some five years older than Smith. Two distinct types in every way, drawn together by the camaraderie of the road. They had met for the first ume a v , week ago outside a contractor’s office in Melbourne. A crowd of men were collected, awaiting the opening of the door,. Smith being amongst them. Shep, complete with swag and billy, had paused in his slouching stride, cast, his eye over the assembly, and addressed Smith, who was on the fringe of the crowd. “Wot’s wrong?” he had demanded. . Smith looked down at the small figure in amusement. An eager light had leaped into Shep’s eyes as his gaze passed from one to the other. “Two men wanted to spread road metal,” Smith informed him. The eager look died as quickly as it had come, and, with a look of extreme pity at the' waiting men, Shep spat disgustedly. "Is that all? I thought it was a handout,” and swinging his swag to his other shoulder, he had continued on his way. Smith had been unsuccessful, the jobs, going to men with experience. More amused than disappointed, he ha wandered out of the office and stood on the pavement, thinking. He had at least added to his knowledge; one could' become experienced in the art of spreading road metal. His eyes turned in the direction Shep had taken, and he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Why not?” he thought. He had neither swag nor billy, but he had sufficient optimism to make up for this want. That same afternoon he had overhauled Shep, and, recognising Smith at once, Shep smiled a welcome. “So you was lucky?” Shep greeted, w Smith looked at him in surprise, not quite understanding. “I mean you didn’t get the job?” went on Shep. “Oh, I see. No, I found that spreading road metal is something of an art.” “Something of a bother, too, if you ask me.” Smith found before long that being a tramp also required some experience, and thereby added further to his knowledge. However, under Sheps' skilful management, there was always a meal forthcoming, or nearly always; sometimes farm houses were a long way between, and, if Shep failed at one, it was a long way to the next. Two failures in succession and they went hungry. And this is how we find them a week after their meeting —hungry. Which means that they had two failures. Shep, not wishing to risk a third, had advised a halt within sight of a very promising looking homestead until after dark, and they had retired to the shelter of some friendly trees by the wayside for this purpose. With visions of a prime rooster toasting over their camp fire, they awaited the approach of darkness impatiently . As the shadows began to lengthen a cloud of mosquitoes emerged from a nearby creek, giving them something else to worry about besides hunger. In summer, one cannot have the convenience of water and escape the discomforts. But this was a minor detail compared with the importance of the object in view. Anyhow, darkness falls quickly in Australia, and they wouldn’t have long to wait. “There’s a change cornin’,” declared Shep, sitting up and rubbing his legs. “I always get rheumatiz twenty-four hours afore rain, an’ I’ve got it right now.” “Pity you hadn’t had it last night,” muttered Smith, passing his sleeve across a moist forehead. “Anyway, it’s about-dark enough now, isn’t it?” “Another quarter of an hour,” reckoned Shep. “Give ’em time to get their horses stabled an’ their separatin’ done.” The trees which sheltered them stood on a rise which sloped gradually to> tne highway, about a hundred yards away. To save grading, the road had been cut around the foot of the hill, and from where they lay they could see it on .either side stretching away

for miles in the moonlight. Presently, from the north, came the hum of a powerful car, and a few seconds later a pair of headlights became visible as it swung round a bend in the road. It was travelling fast and required only a few minutes to reach the level of the tree shelter of the two tramps. As it approached it slowed up, and just before rounding the bend at the foot of the hill it stopped.

A murmur of voices came up to them, and then a man got out of the car and walked to the bend of the road. He stood for some time, as though listening, and looking in the direction in which they had been travelling; then, returning, he spoke to someone inside. The car was then swung right across the narrow road and all the lights were extinguished. The two tramps sat up and looked at each other.

“Looks like a hold-up,” said Smith. “Liker’n anything I’ve ever seen,” agreed Shep.

Two other men now got out of the car and stood in the middle of the road, talking. Another look passed between Smith and Shep, and, as by common agreement, they rose to their feet, all thoughts of the prime rooster fading from their minds in the excitement of the moment. They moved forward towards the road as quietly as possible, picking each .step very carefully, lest a cracking twig should betray them to the men on the road, As they came nearer, the voices became more distinct.

“Do you think we are far enough from the bend” one of them was saying.

One of his companions measured the distance with his eye, and nodded. “Just right,” he replied. “Gives him no time to think. He must pull up oi’ crash; and I don’t imagine he’ll want to crash.” There was now no doubt whatever about their intentions. It was a holdup, purely and simply, and it behoved any right thinking citizen to take a hand, and, if possible, frustrate it. The fact that they had been about to-break the law themselves didn’t occur to the tramps. Besides, it’s a totally different thing when some one else does it, and this was serious; this was highway robbery. Smith turned and whispered to Shep: “Best thing to do would be to hustle along the road and warn who ever’s coming.” Shep nodded his agreement, and Smith moved softly away, with the intention of carrying this out, but he had not gone more than a dozen yards when the faint hum of a motor came to him. He stopped to listen, and then retraced his steps. “Too late!” he muttered, as he came back. “We’ll have to let him come and do the best we can to help.” In the road there was a bustle of activity. One of the men, presumably tne ringleader, issued last minute instructions to his companions. Two of them then hid themselves on the same side of the road as the tramps, while the leader concealed himself on the other side. The tall tramp leaned nearer to his friend and whispered in his ear: “Do you think you can attend to that fellow on your side?” Shep nodded. “We’ve got to get them on the jump, though; They’ve got guns.” Under cover of the noise made by the oncoming car, they moved gradually nearer to the concealed men. The car was fast approaching the bend, and the tramps prepared to spring before the hold-up party could act. If they succeeded in dealing with these two, they would only have one to' contend with. Suddenly the headlights of the intended victim flashed around the corner. There was a woman’s scream, and then the grinding of brakes as the car was pulled suddenly to a standstill. Smith jumped, and before the hidden man knew what had hit him, he was down with a smashing blow under the ear. Shep was less fortunate, However. As he jumped for his man, he tripped over an extended root, and fell. The man he jumped for heard nothing of the commotion behind him, owing to the noise made by the brakes of the car, and he didn’t even see his companion fall. He was on tire step of the car and was pointing a revolver at the driver’s head before Shep had scambled to his feet. “Get the one on the other side!” yelled Shep, as Smith made a dive for the car. “I’ll tackle this one!” At the sound of the voice, the man on the step turned, but he was too late. An arm was thrown around his neck and Shep pulled him backwards on to tne road. “Whatin’ell’s this?” cried the man. “We’re police!” “So’re we,” replied Shep grimly, as he put his knee on the arm which held the revolver, and sat on the man’s chest. “You’re poach’in our beat and we don’t like it.” Smith, meanwhile, had rushed round the back of the car. As he reached the other side the back door was thrown open, and a woman jumped out carrying a suitcase. He had no time to take much notice of her as he ran past and closed with the figure on the running-board. He caught the man around the waist and dragged him off the step. As he did so, he saw out of the corner of his eye the woman throw the suitcase into the scrub at the side of the road and then run hastily back to the car. He had no time to look further; the struggling figure in his arms demanded all his attention. He made a grab at the gun arm and missed, and the man, wriggling round in his grasp, brought the butt of his revolver down on Smith’s head. The tramp sank down on the road in a heap. While this was happening, the man who had been felled at the side of the road has risen giddily to his feet. He looked around for a moment, collecting his scattered senses, and then seeing one of his companions lying on the road with a figure on top of him, he staggered ■ over, and dealt Shep a-/stinging blow on the side of the head, sending him rolling over in the road. At that moment the car which had been held up started to move forward. It gathered speed quickly and, before anyone could stop it, had swung around the obstructing car and was roaring up the road in a cloud,of dust.