"TWO ON THE ROAD"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 4 October 1938, Page 12

"TWO ON THE ROAD"

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT COPYRIGHT.

BY

JOHN MACLEOD

CHAPTER V.—(Continued)

“Sleep’s evidently of,” he remarked. “Come and have a dip; you’ll feel better.” “No thanks! I’ll feel hungrier.” Then he added, sarcastically, “I’ll stay an’ cook the breakfast. I never gets me eggs done properly unless I does ’em meself.” Smith smiled, and made for the lagoon, whistling. Shep shook his head as he watched him go, wondering what on earth he could find to whistle about, and above all, what curious kink drove him to bathe every morning when they were near water. He prepared the fire, put the billy on, and sat down to await Smith’s return. A rooster crowing on a nearby farm attracted his attention, and he looked pensively in the direction of the sound. “Listening to the herald of morn?” asked Smith, coming up.

“If I ’ad kpown he was there last night, I’d be listenin’ to him sizzlin’ at the present moment,” was the grim reply. “Oh, we’re not so bad. We ought to be able to last out until tonight after that unexpected snack we had last night.” Smith sat down and sipped his tea; then he added thoughtfully: “I suppose they’re searching for us for that too, now.” Shep, who had finished his drink, broke off a piece of twig and chewed it reflectively. “For two or’nery tramps, we’re sure havin’ some adventures,” he said slowly. “Not ordinary tramps, Shep—extraordinary tramps! Who but extraordinary tramps would rush to the aid of fellow citizens in distress when they were bailed up by armed highway men? The fact that the fellow citizens turned out to be crooks and the armed highwaymen policemen, makes no difference to the intention. Who but extraordinary tramps would be contemplating going to a ball tonight with elite of their fair city?” “Tramps is plural,” retorted Shep, very decidedly, “an’ I ain’t contemplatin’’ going to no ball with no one. Havin’ a sort of half interest in that suit, as it were, I’ll follow you an hope for the best, but if there’s any joyful anticipation in this business, it’s all one Sided ’” DU 9» “Still thinking of your omen, Shep? Smith said, smiling. It was still very early in the morning and as no one was likely to be about, Smith went for a walk along the river bank. He wanted to get his bearings for getting into the city after dark. By following the river for about a mile and a half, Smith found that they’d be practically in the city, and there would be no necessity, therefore, to go through any suburbs. This was a very cheering discovery. It means that an ultra smart young man, in company with a dowl-at-heel companion wouldn’t have to run a gauntlet of curious eyes. , As he was returning to where he had left Shep, he picked up a newspaper. Reading would pass the time more quickly than anything else, also helping to relieve the monotony of Atting all day in one place. He might also be able to forget that two meals were again being missed. It was the previous day’s pgper, and as he lay down beside Shep and opened it, the first thing that caught his eye was an account of their adventure with the police. Great glaring headlines informed the public that the Ranger had escaped twice in the same night; once by the hair of his head, and again by the skin of his teeth. “Good gracious!” ejaculated Smith, bringing Shep’s wandering mind back from the “Ritz,” where he had just finished a seven course lunch, and was on the point of peeling a note from his roll to tip the waiter. “What’s wrong now?” he demanded. “That little affair of ours last night was more serious than I imagined. The gentleman we rescued from the police was the Ranger himself!” “Struth!” muttered Shep, in an awed voice. “The police’ll want to pension us off after that—durin’ His Majesty's pleasure.” Smith continued, reading extract here and there for Shep’s benefit. “An unexpected interruption occurred, when the police were attacked from behind by two men, who seemed to have been watching their movements from the shelter of the bush. Taken off their guard when they had made the Ranger a prisoner, they were compelled to leave him and defend themselves. During the mill, the Ranger’s car shot forward and disappeared from sight in a moment. By the time the. police had settled with their attackers, and given chase, the Ranger had made good his escape.” Smith turned to Shep. “That’s what comes of being extraordinary tramps, Shep.” A bit further down the column he came upon a rough description of themselves. “The police believe,” he continued reading, “that their attackers were probably tramps, who were actuated by a mistaken sense of duty. They are anxious to get in touch with these tramps, who, they believe, may be able to throw some light on the movements of the lady passenger who was in the Ranger’s car, and who was observed to leave the car quickly, carrying something, which they are convinced was thrown away. A search of the locality on the following morning disclosed the fact that the scrub had been trampled down at one part as though a search had been made.”

Smith shook his head thoughtfully as he finished reading. “We should have handed that case up," he said. "Should do yet, in fact." “Well, you can hold it up on your own,” replied Shep, “an' you can give ’em my respects an’ tell 'em I’m indisposed.” “Come to think of it,” continued Smith. “We can hand it in tomorrow just as easily. I don’t want to miss that ball now. “It’s very gratifying to know, though, that they don’t associate us with the Ranger." Shep snorted disdainfully. “Don you believe it,” he growled. “I know police methods. That information is just given to the Press so that you an’ me will be good little boys, an’ give ourselves up. Anyway, that’s not all they want us for now.” “I'd forgotten about the basket,” mused Smith. CARTER VI. It was a long day for the two tramps. Tormented by flies and hunger, and afraid to wander far from the lagoon in case someone might recognise them from the newspaper description, the time dragged, but so long as this world

of ours continues to spin in space, night must follow, day, and at last the lengthening shadows cast by the setting sun informed them that darkness was near. They waited until the lights of the city twinkled out before leaving their shelter, and, then, keeping to the patch along the river bank, they set out.

Smith had decided not to change' until they were as near the Town Tall as they could possibly get. He was shaved and ready, and had only to find some quiet lane or public park to slip into the evening clothes. All the way along the river bank Shep kept up a continual flow of objections, suggesting a hundred possibilities which might occur, whereby they would both be thrown into jail and lose the suit into the bargain. He commented strongly on the weaknesses in the mentality of some people, mentioning several instances of people he had known who had been committed to lunatic asylums for less. “Why,” said Smith at last, “don’t you ever get cheerful? You get a feed out of this and that seems to be you chief ambition in life.” “I’m not even sure of the feed,” grumbled Shep. “If the Lord, hadn’t made me a bit undersize I’d ’ave tossed you for that suit.” According to Shep’s former attitude, it wasn’t very clear whether he meant that he would have tossed a coin for possession of the suit to go to the ball, or whether he would have tossed Smith for suggesting it. Perhaps it was that he was reduced to that stage that he was just going to grumble anyhow. “When you’re hidden in the shrubbery and eating cakes and sandwiches you’ll feel much more optimistic,” said Smith. “By the way, I hope there is some shrubbery.” “So do I,” replied Shep, fervently “If there ain’t this ’ere ball’s off!” They had seen the large, illuminated face of a clock, which, they surmised was that of the Town Hall, and as they drew nearer Smith was vastly relieved to find that it was quite close to the river itself. 'lndeed, the grounds surrounding it ran almost to the water’s edge, being fenced off to allow only enough room for the right-or-way along the river bank.

This made matters much easier for them, and Smith had no difficulty in changing his clothes. Shep, meanwhile, leaned against the fence, watching him gloomily, and anticipating the worst. “Supposin’ somebody recognises that suit” he suggested. “That would be very unfortunate for the party who did the recognising,” replied Smith. “The police would be very pleased to get in touch with the rightful owner, so there won’t be any trouble in that direction. But now that you mention it, Shep, the Ranger must have been intending to go to the ball. Now, if you wanted to be a good citizen, you could take that information to the police. Not that it would be much good now, though; wq have his suit.and his invitation, which has .probably spoiled the gentleman’s evening.” Smith had to rely on Shep’s judgment for the correctness of his dress, and Shep’s “0.K.” was so half-hearted that it was of very little use to him. He had to be content with it, however, and, climbing the fence, they walked up to the building carefully. “You’re lucky, Shep,” said Smith. “There’s heaps of shrubbery here.” “I only hope my luck’ll last out the evening,” muttered Shep. Keeping to the shelter, they walked along one side. They could see the interior of the hall through the windows. It was gaily decorated for the occasion, numerous coloured electric light globes being festooned from the roof to various parts of the walls, and a profusion of streamers hanging from every possible point. On the stage, half-hidden by shrubs, the orchestra w T as tuning up their instruments. Little groups of people were chatting and laughing together, while one or two men with imposing little cards hanging from the lapels of their coats were bustling importantly about. Smith and Shep retreated nearer the rear, and there Smith selected a window which commanded a view of the buffet, and where he considered it would be easier to feed the hungry Shep. “Now,” said Smith, “you’re set. Don’t show yourself unless you see me, or instead of cakes and sandwiches, it’s bread and water you’ll get.” Shep, not at all optimistic, took up his station reluctantly. He watched Smith walk jauntily away, not quite sure that he was ever going to see him again. He visualised an argument at the door, the doorkeeper calling a policeman, and Smith being marched off to the'lock-up. It would be Smith, then, who would be getting the bread and water, but Shep would lose a companion whom he had come to have a genuine liking for. Smith, supremely confident, sauntered around to the front. Taxis and private cars were depositing a crowd of smart men and gorgeous ladies at the door, and Smith, joining the throng, entered. He surrendered his invitation card to a uniformed attendant, who merely glanced at it and returned it to him with an apologetic bow, as though it wasn’t at all necessary. but a matter of form. Another attendant came forward and relieved Smith of his coat.

Now came the most awkward part of the whole affair. He knew no one. and everyone else seemed to have their own circle of acquaintances. He railised, now that he was actually here, it was very difficult to appear as one of the guests. One cannot just walk around a ballroom all the evening at a loose end, and Smith was sufficiently sure of himself to know that his figure and general bearing would attract some attention. He stood for a moment looking around him, and his eye fell on a girl sitting alone on a seat near the door of the dance hall. She was looking keenly at Smith, but her eyes turned away as they met his. And such eyes! Smith was certain he had never seen anything quite like them. He was not sure of the colour; brown, he thought, but they were large, and had a wistful look that gripped him. Yes, they must be brown; her short wavy hair was jet black, and nothing but deep brown would harmonise perfectly with black hair. Her profile, which he now saw