"TWO ON THE ROAD"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 4 November 1938, Page 10

"TWO ON THE ROAD"

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT COPYRIGHT.

BY

JOHN MACLEOD

CHAPTER XXVI. Before beginning, his story, Whitcombe listened to an account of the adventures that befalled his son, and of the circumstances which had led to his coming to Cranford Hall. He

was naturally pleased at the high esteem in which the Emmersons held him, and he knew as he listened that what he had to say would be of especial interest “o at least one person. “Just over four months ago,” .he began, “Jack and his half brother Tom were employed in the bank of which I am chairman of directors. They were very fond of each other, Jack and Tom, indeed, they were more like full brothers. It was my intention to have them learn the business of the bank in all its branches so that they could

carry on when I gave up. Tom was about three years younger than Jack, and they were inseparable companions. There was never any favouritism shown as it usual in such cases, although it would have been contrary to human nature if Tom’s mother had n’t had a greater affection for Tom than she had for Jack. “Nevertheless, we were all very

happy together until my wife contracted an incurable disease. We got the greatest specialists in the country, but they could do nothing for her. One great authority gave her six months to live, and then only by following his special treatment. “Just about this time was our haltyearly balancing pf books at the bank, a particularly trying time for all concerned. The auditors were due in a few days time and we were busy pre-

paring for them. I’ll tell you wnai happened as Tom told it to me. “Tom was looking very worried at this time, and Jack, noticing it, and attributing it to the condition of his mother, sympathised with him. One dav however, Tom approached Jack. “I’m going to shock you,’ Jack, he said. “I must confide in someone, and there’s no one who understands me as you do. I’ve been betting beyond my al ‘°To al say that ' Jack was shocked would be to put it mildly. He _ knew

Tom backed horses; Jack did hil ? se^ f ’ but he never imagined Tom would be guilty of such an indiscretion. It wouldn’t be so bad,” he . Jack, “but you know how mother is. She’s been given six months to live. This will kill her.” “Jade was worried. He knew my attitude on such matters, and not having enough money to help ®>m out, he didn’t know what to do. Anyway he' didn’t preach to Tom; that would have been totally unlike him. He thought the matter over in his own way, and the next day he had made up his mind. He took the money from his own department and handed it over to Tom. Tom, of course, would have none of it for a start, but Jack pointed out that it was the only way out, so he finally accepted it. He promised, though, that as soon as his mother died, he would confess to me. “I didn’t dwell too long on the inter- . Tack and myself. It was

view between jacis. <mu . the most painful affair in my memory. It ended by my ordering him out ot the house, and making up the deficiency myself to save disgrace. I told him that if he ever used my name to ease his position in any way, that I would have him brought back and prosecuted. “So you see, he couldn t tell you who he was. He had promised to cnange his name, and in any case, if he had broken his word and told the detective, he would have known that I wouldn’t have made any attempt to help him. After thinking him guilty of embezzling money from the bank, I would have thought him quite capnblp nf anything.”

able oi anyuimg. “And Lady Whitcombe?” asked Marie softly. “She didn’t die, thank God! In spite of everything, she took a turn for the better, and the specialists think she will live, now. When Tom found that his mother’s life was no longer in danger, he came to me and told me the whole story. Need I say that I m proud of Jack, and time, which smooths all things has made me look on the affair in a different light. I'm also proud of Tom for confessing. Marie’s eyes were singing with happiness, and Emmerson was rubbing his hands together delightedly. “I just knew there was some good explanation of the name Smith, ciied Marie. At that moment there was a step m the hall, which they recognised as

Smith’s. Emmerson held up his hand to stay Marie, who was on the point of rushing out to meet him. “Whitcombe,” he called, and winked at Sir James. The footsteps stopped suddenly and there was silence. Again, Emmerson called, and in a slow, uncertain manner, the footsteps approached the door Smith entered, his face pale, and wearing a look of astonishment. At the sight of his father, his astonisment increased, and he came forward auickly to meet the outstretched hand, a smile gradually lighting up his whole

a *‘Dad ”he exclaimed. “How on earth did you get here, and how did you know I was here?’’ “Well to begin with, I don t know whether it’s you or I that the apology. I’m certainly sorry I turned vou out, but damme, sir!, you told me a lie! He slapped him affectionately on the shoulder. I’m proud of you. Jack and strangely enough Im proud +nn He slipped, but he made

01 IUIII, IW. — n a brilliant recovery., . «?e"-e"StMn“ ? and I’ve ton lor you for weeks. Yourstepmother is well on the road to recovery, and Tom’s,, looking forward to seeing news. And how did y %£TX a n~ in the coun-

try has been publishing your pmnvsranh with the Ranger’s name under it. I got your address from the P° ■ Emmerson came forward an s hands with Jack. “My judgment was pretty near tne ma"alter all. Smith. I J™' come. I’m real proud of you, ar. “I’m glad it’s come out this way, M Emmerson.” He turned again to, his father. “I’m glad about glanced at Marie and smiled. One

day I’m going to ask him to be my best man. This is Miss Emmerson, dad.” “I had gathered that much,” returned his father, drily. “She’s going to be my wife,” went on Jack. “I had also gathered that much,” replied Whitcombe, with a wink at Emmerson.

Emmerson returned the wink, and nodded in the direction of the door. “Come and have a wash up and a drink after your journey.. Now that you’re here you won’t be in a hurry to get away for a few days.” “I didn’t bring any things for staying,” said Whitcombe, as he followed Emmerson to the door. “You can send for them in the morning. I remember we had to fix up

your son in similar circumstances. Emmerson glanced slyly at Jack as he went out through the door. Left alone, Marie put' her arms around Jack’s neck. “Fancy anyone thinking you were a thief, Jack!” He looked at her with a smile, and drew her gently closer. “I’m afraid, after all, I’m a thief. I stole you.”

CHAPTER XXVII. Smith, or rather, as we now know him, Jack, went up to his room to tell Shep to stop packing up in the meantime. He found Shep standing in the middle of the floor, scratching his head in bewilderment. On the bed he had laid out all the clothes, neatly folded and ready to be packed. > “Where are we goin’ to pack em? he demanded. “We’ve got no suitcase now—only Mr Emmerson’s.” “I had forgotten about that,” said Jack, laughing, “but it won’t matter now; we’re not going just yet. “Not going?” echoed Shep. Well, that’s sure good news.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and surveyed Smith calmly. “In the past week or ■io vou an’ me’s been near to gettm

so you un me ■= **— -- “ a good many places. Whats the idea this time? Whatever it is, a blokes better to be ready for it when it comes. I reckon I’ye been scared out of about ten years, lately. - Jack smiled. Shep was prepared for the worst at all times, which, under the circumstances, was quite natural. “Everything’s all right this time,

Shep, and it’s going to keep on being all right from now on. I’ve been thinking” Shep shook his head as Jack paused. Anything, could happen when he started thinking. “You have a thousand pounds?” , „ “A cheque for a thousand pounds, corrected Shep. • “Yes, of course,” went on JacK, with much seriousness. “It won’t be a

thousand pounds until Y ou There’s many a person would like to be as near to having it, but, anyway, with that thousand and what we won on Mr Emmerson’s horses, we nave nearly nineteen hundred. What could you do with that lot, Shep? “If I had that much I could buy myself a chicken farm an’ raise chickel“What else could one raise on a chicken farm, Shep?” asked Jack smilm“Children!” was the unexpected re-

P1 Jack stared at him in surprise. Shep Has it come t j “Yes/’ grinned Shep. “Me an’ the pantrymaid’s going to be married some da< “The pantrymaid?” Again Jack stared at him. “I thought it was the C °Shep shuffled uncomfortably. “Well, you see,” he began, I, was speakin’ ’■ to tne pantrymaid an she told me that some fortune tellin bloke had said to the cook that her second husband would bring her great Shen looked at Jack and grinned

foolishly. “Well?” demanded Jack. “Well 9 ” echoed Shep. “It wasn t well. She ain’t been married yet, an I didn’t want to be the first. Jack laughed. The amorous Shep was evidently of an elastic turn of mind. His affections could be transferred at a moment’s notice. ‘ “And what of the pantrymaid? asked Jack. “She aint’ goin’ to no fortune tellers” replied Shep, very decidedly. Shep apparently thought that futures were arranged and dispensed at fortune telling establishments. “Well, anyhow, when you make up your mind which girl you really like, you can buy that chicken farm and settle down with her.” “It was Shep’s turn to be surprised. He looked at Smith as though he considered him far from being normal. . “One minute you and me’s going to gaol. Another time we’re gettin’

ready for 'a getaway if a horse loses. After that, when everything looks sweet, we thinks we’ll be gettin’ on the road again, and then up you comes an’ tells me I can ’ave a chicken farm. What I’d like moren’s anything at the present moment is a reliable opinion on your mental condition. “I have been a mass of contradic-

tions, I know.” admitted. Jack, “but the events of the past hour have made all the difffferenee in my outlook, and I am once again a respectable member of society. You see, my father has arrived on the scene, and we cleared the atmosphere considerably. “Your father?” inquired Shep, in amazement. Things were certainly beginning to happen. “Who’s your father?”

“Sir James Whitcombe!” Shep’s mouth opened to speak, but no sound came. He stared at his friend as though he thought he were joking. “So you see, Shep, I won’t need any of that money now. You can have your chicken farm and be sure of something to eat for the rest of yotn days. “Sir James Whitcombe!" muttered poor Shep, helplessly. “Your father! A chicken farm!” “Yes, Shep. “It’s a long story, and I’ll tell you all about it some other time. Some time I’ll come over to visit you on your chicken farm.” “My chicken farm?” echoed Shep, as though waking from a dream. An where are you goin’?” “I’ll be going back home eventually, but I’ll be here for a while\ yet.” “An’ won’t you be needin’ a valet?”

—Jack - smiled/ - He walked-over and' slapped Shep on the shoulder affectionately. “I might, but you know, Shep, you are a rotten valet.” “I can learn,” replied Shep, doggedly. “Anyway, I’m as good a valet as you were a tramp. A bloke would’ve starved on the road if he’d depended on you. That chicken farm can wait—an’ the girl won’t mind.” They shook hands cordially. Smith hadn’t wanted to part with Shep, but

he thought it only right to give him the opportunity of having a home of his own for once in his life. They had come through a good deal together In the short time they had known each other, and a genuine affection had been born from their hardships. “Thanks, Shep!” said Jack. Stay, by all means, and you can get married just the same —that is, if you can make your peace with Mr Emmerson for taking away his pantrymaid.” CHAPTER XXVII.

In the afternoon Jack and Marie walked over to Smith’s Island. With no cloud hanging over him now, Jack felt that his happiness was complete. They sat on the river bank, at the fork of the waters, watching the rock corner split in up into two streams. “It really should be called, “Whitcombe’s Island,” shouldn t it? said Marie. Jack shook his head and smiled. “Somehow, I like it better as Smith’s Island. It sounds better, and seems to mean more. Yes, Smith’s Island let it be.” Marie nodded understandingly, and there was silence between them for a moment. Her head lay on Jack’s shoulder, while she toyed with the lapel of his coat. _ The sound of voices coming towards them made them look around, and they made out the figure of Shep and a girl. They were crossing the bridge on to Smith’s Island. Jack looked at Marie with a smile. “The pantrymaid?” he inquired.

Marie nodded. . Shep led the girl to the edge of the bank, and pointed downwards. His voice came clearly up to Jack - and

Marie. ' . ' ,< T “That’s the root,” he was saying. 1 don’t remember clutchin’ it, but I did.’ “That was brave of you, Shep,” replied the girl, proudly. '' ' “Brave nothin’. I’d ’ave drowned if I hadn’t held on to Miss Marie.” Marie turned to Jack, smiling. “I like Shep.” “So do I,” agreed Jack, heartily. .“He’s been a wonderful friend. He helped me along the road when it was crooked and took finding. It looks as though both he and I had entered on the final road; a straight road, I hope, and a smooth one. We have reached the end of one road. ’ It had many bends and one or two branches. Luckily enough, we chose the right branch, and that branch led us here. It was exciting- ” He turned to Marie, smiling, “but I’d go through it all again, knowing you were waiting at the end of the road;” (THE END)