"TWO ON THE ROAD"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 6 October 1938, Page 12

"TWO ON THE ROAD"

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT COPYRIGHT.

BY

JOHN MACLEOD

CHAPTER VI. —Continued

“I certainly wouldn't blame him for getting jealous of Mr Smith,” remarked Betty, smiling. “I could quite easily get jealous of you.” “Oh, in all probability I’ll never see him again after tonight.” “It’ll be your own fault if you don't,” said Betty, teasingly. “I know I would if I were you.”

“But you’re a tomboy. Ladies don’t make engagements with gentlemen.” “Oh, yes, they do. I know I would, even if it was just to make the adorable Walter jealous. Do you like him?” Betty looked at Marie and smiled at her confusion.

“I’ve only just met him, too, and I like him. I thought maybe you did, by the way you looked after him.” Again Marie blushed, and Betty put her arm round her. “Why don’t you wake up, Marie? Everyone else but you seems to know that you don’t love Walter.” Marie looked thoughtful. “It seems that everyone else is trying to arrange my affairs for me.” She turned and smiled at Betty. “Even you, Betty, are graduating for a full-blown matchmaker.”

“And why not? If we like a person, isn’t it only natural to take an interest in them? If we see them making an ass of themselves, isn’t it kinder to tell them than to tell somebody else? I don’t mind telling you, Marie, I don’t like Walter.”

“Yoji don’t have to, Miss Wisdom,” returned Marie, good humoredly. “No, thank heaven,” continued Betty, “and when you come to the realisation that you don’t have to, either, you’ll begin to enjoy life.” “Here’s my partner coming for this dance,” said Marie. “Don't you worry your head over me, Betty. I’ll be all right.” Betty’s partner, also coming up at this moment, put an end to the reply which she was about to make, and brought her mind back to the business on hand, which was, after all, dancing. Meanwhile Lakin had found his sister, or, as we know her better, his wife, and had led her out on the verandah. “Who the devil is this Smith fellow, Mira?” he burst out, when they were alone. “Why ask me?” she demanded. “I don’t know.” ‘Well, you’re interested, aren’t you? I want you to make it your business to find out. Said he was expecting aMr Larkin—with grey hair, and ’” He broke off and started pacing backwards and forwards nervously. “I’m getting quite jumpy these days. Wherever I go I’m expecting to find a hand on my arm and hear a request to put ’em up!” “Do you think he’s a detective, asked Mira, who was even more upset than Lakin himself. “I don’t know—wish I did. Why should he say he was expecting a Mr Lakin? Of course, there’s just a possibility that he was. I suppose there are lots of Lakins.” Mira caught him by the sleeve. “Jim! If you have any suspicion of him wouldn’t it be better to chuck the whole thing up? I have no wish to figure in a police court, and there’s lots of other ways of making money.”

Lakin shook his head. “The police have closed up most or our avenues of income, damn them! There’s a fortune in this business if we pull it off. I know for a fact that Marie inherits over a hundred thousand pounds from her mother’s will when she marries, and old Emmerson s just rolling in money.” He laid his hands on Mira’s shoulders. “Just think what we could do with a hundred thousand! We could clear out of the country and quit all this. Now, see what you can find out about this Smith chap.” “How am I to go about it? He’s evidently a stranger here, and no one would know anything about him." “Have a talk with him,” advised Lakin. “I don’t expect him to tell you if he’s a detective, but he might let something drop that would let you know if he isn’t.” They went inside again, Lakin to find Marie, and try to atone for his churlishness, and Mira to watch for an opportunity of speaking to Smith. CHAPTER VII. Smith, meanwhile, all unconscious of the interest he had created, was at the bar with Emmerson and Walford. Although he would much rather have been dancing, he first of all had to think of getting something to eat, and the bar and buffet being practically one, there were platesful of sandwiches and cakes piled up for the supper which was to follow. Actually starving, he found it difficult to nibble uninterestedly at sandwiches while speaking to the two men, but by letting them do most of the talking, and by encouraging them to discuss the subject in question between themselves, he managed to do very well. With the edge taken from his appetite at last, he entered more into the conversation. He had the knack of discovering everyone’s favourite topic and drawing them out accordingly, and it wasn’t long before he found that Emmerson’s weakness was racing. He owned a strong of horses, apparently, on whose qualities he waxed eloquent. Smith knew a good deal about horses himself, indeed, he had the condition and performance of the champions at his finger ends. “By the way!” said Walford, during a lull in the conversation. “Are you any relation of Regent Smith, the explorer chap?” “Half cousin,” replied Smith, easily, “although curiously enough I’ve never met him. He spend most of his time in the jungles of Africa, chasing lost races or something, and the only time in my recollection that he has been home, I was away.” , He hastened to change the subject, and by telling them an amusing story, he managed to divert the conversation into safer channels. If they started discussing personal matters he might very soon be found out, which would be rather unfortunate after such a successful start. The time passed,with such surprising rapidity, that when Smith glanced at a clock in a corner of the bar, he was astonished to find that the small hand was pointing to eleven. With a shock, he remembered Shep, waiting outside in the shrubbery. Conscience

stricken, he excused himself, and hastened out. As he came round the corner of the building, Shep saw him and came out to meet him. “So you 'ave come?” greeted Shep sarcastically. “Well, what’ve you got?” “So far,” replied Smith, “I’ve got nothing.” . “Strijth! “You’ve got nothin’? Here’s me standin’ here half the night, watchin’ them dudes in there gorgin’ themselves, till I feel like breakin’ in an’ showin’ them how to eat, an’ you come out an’ tell me you’ve got nothin?” “Quietly, Shep, quietly!” cautioned Smith. “An audience would rather upset things. I can’t very well march out of the front door carrying a plateful of eatables. Now, listen carefully! I’ll go inside, and from time to time I’ll leave a plateful of cakes on that window sill. Don’t get impatient. I might have to wait my chance for a clear field.” “I knew this ball idea was madness,” growled Shep. "Anyhow, step on it! 1 suppose I don’t need to remind you that I’m hungry.” “I'll be as quick as I can,” promsied Smith. He turned away to go inside again, but he had only gone a few steps when he turned back. “Ever know anyone called Lakin, Shep?” he asked. Shep shook his head. Shep’s acquaintances could all have been counted on the fingers of one hand, and it was doubtful if he knew the names of any of them. “No, but I’ll tell you somethin’ I do know,” he replied. “The couple we pinched the basket from last night is inside. I just saw them come out on the verander.” “The couple you pinched the basket from, Shep, not I. I was an accessory after the fact only. However, that’s very interesting, and all the more reason why you should remain hidden.” . Shep,stepped back into his shelter and Smith made his way inside again. He went straight to the buffet, and as Emmerson and Walford had their backs turned, he lifted a plateful of cakes and walked away with them at once. No one took, any particular notice of the action, as young men were quite privileged in attending to the wants of then’ parties. As Smith was passing the window opposite Shep’s hiding place, he laid the cakes on the window sill, and, taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he mopped his forehead. The night being hot, this would look perfectly natural to anyone who chanced to see him, and would, therefore, excite no curiosity. He next opened the window as though to let in some fresh air, and then, after looking around to see that he was not observed, he walked off. Outside, Shep was watching his friend’s manoeuvres with impatience. As soon as he saw him walking away, and surmising thereby that the coast was clear, he stepped cautiously towards the window. His mouth watered at the sight of the delicious cakes. Never had so many tempting delicacies come his way at once. He looked to right and left along the side of the building, then put his hand out to lift them. Just at that moment, and most unfortunately for Shep, a passing waiter also‘noticed the cakes. Wondering, no doubt, who had left them there, and seeing no one about, he came forward and picked the cakes from under Shep’s very nose, without, however, having seen whose hand he nearly touched in the semi-darkness. He put them on his tray and marched off with them, to the unbounded chagrin of poor Shep. Shep’s face was a study. He glared after the offending waiter, and for a moment was on the point of following him. He had a crazy idea of retrieving the cakes and inflicting summary vengeance of the waiter’s innocent person, but the futility of such a move occurred to him in time. He tore his hat from his head and dashed it on the ground, shaking his fist at the world in general, and swearing all manner of reprisals on Smith’s head. Smith, having cleared his conscience by providing, as he thought, for Shep, was walking back to join Emmerson and Walford at the bar. That lot should keep Shep busy for a while, and Smith felt, therefore, for the present at any rate, he could dismiss him from his mind. He was enjoying himself. ne had met a really beautiful girl and her interesting friends, and he could have hugged the waiter who had unwittingly helped him. He might never see any of them again, but. what did that matter? Yes, by jove, though, though, it did matter; he wanted to see that girl again. He smiled as he thought of the absurdity of the thing. John Smith, tramp and adventurer, interested in a girl whose father owned a racing stable. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts as he went along that he walked right past Mira. She laid a hand on his arm as he passed, and Smith turned round with a start. “Not dancing, Mr Smith?” she asked, . with a charming smile. “Oh, I’m sorry, Miss Lakin,” faltered Smith. “I’m afraid my thoughts were elsewhere.” He wondered if he had booked a dance with her and forgotten it, but hesitated to mention it, in case he had not. It would have been tantamount to an insult to forget a dance with so fair a lady. Her next words set his mind at rest on that point, although they somewhat annoyed him. “I had a bit of a headache,” she said. "The air in the hall is so oppressive.” There was no mistaking the suggestion in her voice, but Smith was too much of a gentleman to show his annoyance. He gallantly offered to find her a seat in the fresh air. “You know, Mr Smith,” she said as she sank into a chair, “your face is somehow familiar to me.” Smith smiled. “Most people find my name more familiar.” “Didn’t we meet at a garden party in Grayton?” “I have never been in Grayton,” replied Smith. “Or maybe it was Melbourne?” “Possibly Melbourne, but I am sure if we had met anywhere, I would have rembered every particular of the occasion.”

She smiled charmingly at Smith. “A very pretty compliment, Mr Smith. However, I’m sure I’ve met you somewhere. Is your home in Melbourne. “Well, quite near Melbourne, but I'm so very seldom there, that it scarcely seems like home to me at all. I have been wandering a good deal, lately.” Smith was naturally reticent regarding his affairs, and Mira’s veiled questions were skilfully turned or evaded. Mira, trying to find out who he was, had the feeling that she was being cleverly handled, and her suspicious mind construed an entirely different meaning into his evasions. Instead of allaying her fears, it considerably increased them. (To be Continued.)