"TWO ON THE ROAD"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 21 October 1938, Page 10

"TWO ON THE ROAD"

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT COPYRIGHT.

BY

JOHN MACLEOD

CHAPTER XV. —(Continued).

Smith examined the river bank. Where the rock started, the water had to bank up, and the continual pressure along with the swirling of the water, was gradually eating the bank away on both sides The bank on the other side being slightly higher than the one they were standing on, it didn’t require an expert to see which way the river would ultimately go. “Doesn’t seem to be much you can do with it,” said Smith, shaking his head.

“I’d like to save the golf links if I could. I’ve got permission to do as I like with it.”

“Yes, it’s a pity,” agreed Smith. “Done anything about it?” ‘l’ve had two engineers looking at it. One suggested a concrete wall, and the other one reckoned it would be much better to 'cut the rock channel wider.”

They walked on towards the house, and when they were crossing the golf links, Emmerson pointed out the damage that would be caused by the breakaway of the river. “The fifth, seventh and ninth greens would be covered, and most of the fairways, too.”

“That would make an island of the rest of the links,” mused Smith. “Why not?” Emmerson stared at him. “But it Would ruin the course.”

“I mean, why not make an island? Not here, of course; I was thinking of that rock channel. Let’s go back and have another look at it.”

They walked back to the river and studied the rock channel once more, and the ground surrounding it. ‘ls there a bridge across?” asked Smith.

“Yes, about a hundred yards down.” They crossed to the other side, and here they followed the rock formation out as far as they could.

“It all depends on the depth of the rock,” continued Smith. “There’s a bend in the river about forty yards down, and it would seem quite an easy matter to make an island here, and relieve the pressure on the banks by making two channels carry the water.” ‘By jove! I believe you’re struck the solution, Smith,” cried Emmerson, enthusiastically. “Yes, it’s a great idea. An island will look rather pretty, here, too. I’ll get it started right away, before the weather breaks and brings a flood. We’ll call it Smith’s Island!” he added, smiling. Smith, smiled, too. The idea of Smith, the tramp, having his name per- 1 petuated, appealed to his sense of humour. Later, in his own room, he told Shep the honour Mr Emmerson proposed to do him.

“Struth!” muttered Shep. “A week ago he would have offered you a job with a pick an’ shovel, makin’ the island. You was right about the power of dress.”

“Yes, Shep, and a week ago I would have been glad to take the job. You and I were pretty hungry a week ago.” “I recollect that same very vividly,” replied Shep. After breakfast, Lakin brought the suitcase back to Smith. He explained that he had no idea there was a laundry in the house until his sister had told him. He thought he would need to have sent the things to Weyburn, and indeed he had them all packed ready when his sister had come in. Smith listened patiently while Lakin described his search for a suitcase, and how he' had looked everywhere for Mr Emmerson so that he borrow one. By chance he passed Smith’s room, and seeing the door open and two suitcases lying in a corner,' he had taken the liberty of a loan of one of them.

It was a very weak explanation, but he had to mention the matter, and he couldn’t depart from the laundry idea after having told Shep. Smith made light of the matter, treating it as though- it were an everyday occurrence to have strangers enter his room when he was absent and borrow suitcases. It amused him to see Lakin floundering through his explanation, and couldn’t help thinking what a poor sort of a detective he was. Lakin, for his part, was wondering just how much evidence Smith would want before he arrested him. He was glad to get away, knowing full well that his story was not believed. It was the first time he had really spoken to Smith, and all the time they had been talking he had a feeling of inferiority which irritated him. This man was no tramp, he decided. He had breeding and manners, which he knew were lacking in himself. In the seclusion of his own room, an idea came to him. He had been wondering why Smith didn’t arrest him; now he knew. He was deferring it simply because it would mean that his job at Cranford Hall would be over. He would have no further excuse for lingering on, and being interested in Marie, he was delaying the arrest as long as possible. Yes! that was it! Marie was the reason. As long as he thought Lakin had no suspicions of who he and his precious valet really were, he thought he could arrest him any old time. Oh, could he? All right, he would see all about that. He would be a foolish looking detective when Lakin had finished with him.

CHAPTER XVI. Mr Emmerson lost no time in getting the work on the river bank started. That same morning he had got in touch with a contractor, and in the afternoon they went over the course of the proposed channel marking the ground off with pegs. The next day a gang bf men arrived with steam shovels, and a million years of solitude was broken, while man had the temerity to take a hand on the general scheme of things and pit his wits against the mighty forces of nature.

From the shelter of the forest, many pairs of eyes watches these vandals, who had dared to invade their sanctuary with their noisy puffing machinery, and their hoarse, unmusical cries. Doubtless, the shy inhabitants of the bush marvelled at these strange animals, who toiled and sweated all day long without digging up one single bite of food. Even had they understood, they would probably have thought them bereft of their senses to take all this trouble just to prevent the river from overflowing a golf links. As if that mattered.

Meanwhile, the strange animals toiled on, and by nightfall of each day the new channel advanced nearer to its completion, The curious eyes turned from the scene in disgust, leaving the madmen to breathe the smoke-poluted atmosphere alone.

Smith took an active interest in the progress of the work, spending a good deal of time watching the men and conferring with the foreman. He had a natural liking for anything in the engineering line, and it also served to take his mind from other matters which had begun to worry him. Since his visit to the lake with Marie, he had been avoiding her as much as possible. Besides having no desire to cut in on Lakin, he was in no sort of position to win Marie. If he declared his love from her, he must also declare his position, and this was impossible. He made up his mind that when the channel was finished he would leave Cranford Hall. Some excuse could be found, even if he had to write himself a letter, calling him away. The longer he stayed, the more complications arose, and also the harder it was to leave Marie. If Marie should break her engagement with Lakin, it would be because of him, and he knew that he would have to tell everything then. Some day, perhaps, he could come back on a different footing, but at present the whole business was worrying him. On Saturday morning there was quite a lot of excitement in the Emmerson household. It was the day of the big race, and Emmerson was going backwards and forward to the stable all the morning. On one of his journeys he took Smith with him to see the horses being loaded into the motor waggons. Smith would gladly have stayed away had he been able to invent an excuse. He wanted to forget about racehorses as much as possible, and would have felt much happier on the river bank. “You’ll see all society on parade today,” said Emmerson, as they were on their way back. Smith started. He hadn’t thought of going to the course. Mr Emmerson naturally took it for granted that he would be there. Everybody was going. Now, how could he get out of it? He just couldn’t stand and watch that race being run; it was out of the question. There would probably be more complications regarding people "he would meet, too. He would be expected to know someone at a meeting like the; Weyburn Cup. “I was thinking it would be a good idea if I took the opportunity of a quiet house to overtake my arrears in correspondence,” he said at last. He hoped this sounded convincing to Mr Emmerson; it certainly didn’t to himself. The idea of missing a big race meeting to write letters seemed almost as weak as Lakin’s excuse about the suitcase.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” replied Emmerson. “This is the race of the year!” Smith had been watching him closely, and he was relieved to find that he showed no undue surprise. He apparently believed that he actually wanted to write letters. “I’d certainly like to see it,” went on Smith, “but do you know, I’ve never even let my people know where I’m staying yet. They’ll think I’m dead.”

Heavens! This was awful. To what depths one had to descend to keep out of trouble! As if one more day would' matter to write a letter. Anyhow, Emmerson took it all in, and although sorry he wasn’t coming he didn’t press him. He advised him to turn the wireless on at three-forty-five, and listen to the description from the course. It was a good idea. Smith hadn’t thought of that. He would know the result before he saw them away, and would consequently know how to meet them.

He went up to his room, and from his window watched the departure of the party for the races, if was only half past one; over two hours to wait before the broadcasting of the race. He took a book and tried to settle down to read, but after turning a few pages, without having the faintest idea what they contained, he closed the book with a snap. It was impossible to read when he had a bet of two hundred pounds on his mind. He paced the room restlessly for a few minutes, then thought he would try practicing cannons in the billiard room. He found this more diverting than reading, and in this way he passed the time until half past three. Putting away his cue, he went upstairs again, impatient, now that the time was getting near. He switched on the wireless, and then picked up a newspaper to pass the time until the announcer switched over to the racecourse. The police, he saw, were still searching for the Ranger. A sketch of his career as far as it was known, was given, winding up with a warning to the public to examine every five pound note that came into their possession. Smith started as though he had been shot, Five pound notes! Heavens! The Ranger was a forger! He felt a curious sickening sensation as he staggered over to the dressing-table. Pulling out the drawer with a shaky hand, he took some of the notes out and examined them closely. Counterfeit! Surely this was the last straw. He sank weakly down on a chair, still staring blankly at the notes, turning them over, and holding them up to the light* At last he rose, and walking over to the wall, he pressed the bell-push for Shep. Shep came in, looking quite cheerful, but when he saw the notes in Smith’s hand, and the expression on Smith’s face, his cheerfulness departed. “Wot’s it now?” he demanded. Smith held the notes out to Shep. , “They’re counterfeit,” said Smith, dully.

“They —they’re—what?” “They're duds!” Shep took one of the notes and stared at it, unbelievingly. “Duds?” he repeated. “How do you know?”

“I’ve handled one or two fivers in my time, and I know every kink and curve of the design. Didn’t think of it until I saw in the paper that one of the Ranger’s most remunerative enteric ■' was forgery. Shep! I’m an addle-headed fool!”

“I don’t think the variety matters,” grunted Shep. “Gee! You’ve given Mr Emmerson forty of ’em! Smith nodded. ‘T’ve given him forty of them!” “Let's clear out. Everyone’s away!” “No, Shep, I don't,” replied Smith, quietly. “I came here thinking it would be an amusing adventure. I didn’t reckon on all this trouble. After all that’s happened, and the wonderful way these people have treated us, the least I could do is to explain everything to them. Somehow, I think they will understand. “Well, I ain’t burstin’ with honour an’ righteousness, an’ the moment anything happens, I quit, an’ if you’re wise you’ll be with me.” “Whatever happens, you’ll be with me. Shep, and you know it.” Just then they heard the voice of the announcer at the racecourse. They looked at each other; then drew chairs up to the wireless cabinet, prepared to hear the worst. (To be Continued.)