BUCKY FOLLOWS A HOT TRAIL

Wairarapa Times-Age, 28 April 1939, Page 10

BUCKY FOLLOWS A HOT TRAIL

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

COPYRIGHT.

BY

WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE.

CHAPTER XXVII. (Continued). Mike folded his arms on the table and looked across at her with his crooked, evil grin. "You don't quite get us," he said gently. "We’re telling you. not asking you. Now, we don't aim to get you into any trouble, miss. If your father had been alive he would have fixed inis for us, but since he isn’t you’ve got to do it. First off; do you know any shyster lawyer who wants to earn five hundred dollars easy?’’ Kathleen shook her head. "No, I don't." She felt faint, oppressed by a stifling sensation of having been transported into a world of unreality, one punctuated by the rat-rat-tat of machine guns. "Think, miss," urged Pete. "A guy that won't squeal and has plenty of nerve." To Kathleen's mind there jumped the picture of a cool and debonair young man, who had been an enemy all her life and was now a friend. At the next words of the smaller gangster she pushed the thought from her. “He’d better not throw us down, unless he wants his throat slit." No, not Bucky, she decided. To drag him into new peril would be dreadful. These rats would destroy him without compunction. "I don't know anybody like that.” she said.

"Some fixer who does political dirty work,” suggested Pete. "We'll run to a grand if necessary. All he has to do is to take a message to Butch, and slip him a little package. If he's a wise guy nobody can hang it on him." Kathleen could never tell later why Mitchell came to her mind. Her father had told her the man was a detective, a government man. She knew, rather vaguely, that he had been working with Chief O’Sullivan and with Bucky. It was in his line of work to handle men of this stripe. "There’s a man who might do," she said slowly, building up the lie as she went. “I don’t know him very well, but they say he is out to make every dollar he can without caring how he does it. Mitchell is his name. Couldn’t you talk with him, without telling him* too much at first, and sort of size him up?” "What does this Mitchell do for a living?” Pete demanded. "I don’t know. He’s in a lot of illegal traffic, tney say.” "How can we get in touch with him? He sounds like the kind of a. bird we want.” “1 think he lives at the Toltec House.” The two men held a whispered consultation. "All right, miss,” Pete said. “We’ll talk with this Mitchell. If you’re lying to us you’ll sure be out of luck. Get him on lhe phone and ask him to come to see you here at once. Say it’s important. Nothing but that. Understand? Just, make one break, and another Garside will be bumped off.” Already Kathleen was prepared to doubt her judgment. If Mitchell did not understand the situation —and she did not see how he could possibly appreciate it—he might betray himself. It was not fan 1 lo bring him here. Still Her hand shook as he called the Toltec House, nor was her voice steady when she asked for Mitchell. Two evil faces were thrust close to hers. She made her message as brief as she could. Mitchell seemed to hesitate, asked a question or two which she evaded, and promised to give her a few minutes. He intimated that he was very busy. Kathleen hung up the receiver. "He’s coming." she said tremulously. "I do hope it will be all right." Mitchell came in a taxicab. Fernando ushered him into the room. "I don't know the names of these men, Mr Mitchell,” she said. "They will have to introduce' themselves.” Her latest guest looked at the other men and back at his hostess in surprise. She was very pale and nervous. "Doesn’t matter about our names.” Pete said bluntly. "This young lady here thinks you might be interested in making a grand, Mr Mitchell. How a pent it?” Mitchell said dryly that he did not know many men who would not like to make a thousand dollars if it would be .done easily enough. "This way is easy, if you’ve got the savvy and the nerve and can keep ycur mouth shut,” Mike told him. "I’ll listen,” Mitchell told him. He saw that Kathleen was standing rigidly, her big eyes fixed on him. The message in them he understood. She was afraid; she begged him to help her. Pete talked. A friend of their’s was in the city gaol. Through a go-between they wanted to communicate with him. The messenger would have to be somebody who had influence enough to see the prisoner alone. "Have you got pull enough for that?" demanded Mike. "Maybe. 1 think so, if I have a reasonable excuse. Who is the man you want me to see?” "Wait a minute,” Pete answered. What’s your business?” "I do little jobs for people—get them out of jams—grease the wheels of the law." The Outlaws asked more questions. When a snarling threat crept into the Italian's maimer. Mitchell looked at aim, level-eyed. "Listen.” he said, Hire me or not, just as you please, provided the job suits me. But don’t pull any black hand stuff on me. I’ll ay r,ne thing. The man that pays me gets loyal service." "He's all right.” Pete said abruptly to his companion. Mike nodhe'l sulkily. "Shoot the works," he ginwb-d. "A man called McCall is the one we want you to see. 'Hay claim he was in on the Valley bank ii.bbi-ry, Would it be possible to get him i.ni ..n bond?" "Not a chance." Mitchell -aid without hesitation. Pete leaned forward. Well, w.-ve a sort of plan," he murmured, "ami we want to wise Butch up so he can - “Wait a minute,” Mitchell cut. in sharply. "The fewer who know this the better.” "That's right,” Pete agreed He looked at Katleen doubtfully. Out of their sight she might telephone the police. "She knows too much already. Might as well let her hear the rest. “No,” decided Mitchell. "Miss Garride you sent lor me to help you out of a hole. I’ll do that. But you ve got to trust me. No phoning the po-

lice or talking with friends. I can't nave any interference. You see why. My life is at stake. I want your word of honour not to tell a soul in the world about this." She knew ho was telling her. without saying it in so many words, that ne was on her side. "I promise.” she said. "Word of honour. "Good. Will you go to the piano, Miss Garside, and play us a good lively piece of music? I want to talk with these men. and I don’t want you lo hear. This may be a lawless business. and 1 would rather not have you Involved.” Kathleen nodded, gratitude in her eyes. She walked to the piano and began to play. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the three heads close, whispering, it seemed to her that she played hours, shifting from one piece to another. She thought of Bucky. This was one danger in which he had not become involved. Had she done right in bringing Mitchell into it? She did not know, but there was a cold self-re-liance about him that made her feel he could take care of himself. During a momentary lull at the end of a piece she thought she heard Bucky’s murmured name. The conference was over. One«of the men passed to Mitchell a small parcel. "You’ll be back soon as you can." he said. ■ "I’ll be back before dark.” “See you do.” The thin brokentoothed grin of the Italian slid across to the girl. The menace in it was unmistakeable. She was a hostage. "They won’t hurt you,” Mitchell promised Kathleen as he was leaving. "Not if you keep your pledge.” The gangsters suggested a drink was in erder. Kathleen rang for Fernando, who served Scotch and soda. The two men spent most of - their time drinking while Mitchell was gone. As they emptied the bottle of Scotch they talked of themselves more freely. Practically tney admitted that they wore implicated in the robbery of the Valley Bank. They boasted about the courage that had brought them back lo manage a jail break for McCall. ‘By morning we'll be out of here and 'won't bother you any more,” one said. "If it works out right.” Kathleen hoped desperately that it would. CHAPTER XXVIII. Bucky walked out of the Toltec House with Tim Murphy and got into his car. The foreman, with his foot on the running board, asked, "There isn t going to be any kick-back on this job. is there?” "You're in the clear,” Bucky answered. "Judge Lewis arranged for the permit. He'll be with you. The Mexicans who do the work wont have the slightest idea what it’s all about. Sorry [ can’t be along, but there is just a chance I might be tailed and that wouldn’t do.” , "A fat lot you’re sorry!” Murphy snorted. “It’s a nice cheerful party you hate to shift on me. I know you. young fellow .... And if you think there’s a chance you are going to be. followed, what’s the idea in chasing up into the hills with a girl? You'd better stay here in the hotel." "But you see.” Bucky replied, with a min “T’rn not going with a girl but with the girl. We ought to be back by midnight. Drop in to my room and see me later.” "Okay. You think you’ll be ready for the Dig blow-off tomorrow?” j “Then or never. I’ll know by noon whether I’m dumb-bell or a Sherlock Holmes.” Bucky’s gaze followed a man on the sidewalk who was passing the car an evil-looking furtive specimen whose eyes had taken a long narrowed interest in Cameron. “Do you know that rat, Tim?” he inquired, nodning toward the follow. Murphy’s regard took in thb sloping shoulders and the slouching gait. “Didn’t see his face. Why?” "Not important . . Well, good luck. Be seeing you.” He shifted the clutch and started. . . Nancy was waiting for him in a trim tan sport suit and a close-fitting little hat set jauntily on one side of her curly corn-coloured hair. They headed towards the foothills behind which the sun was sinking in a splash of gaudy brilliant colouring. Bucky parked at Crest Inn. They nad their cocktails in a cozy den called the Santo Fe room. After the fruit cup they danced. The music was good, and they danced together beautifully. Nancy was light on her feet, and the girl’s slender body yielded with easy grace to his guidance. He 1 sensed her great pleasure. The warmth in her eyes, the little sigh with which ihe relaxed to his embrace, were more assurance than words. This golden girl both soiled and excited him. ” It was while the waiter was serving them with broccoli that Bucky saw her staring out of the window, her gaze startled and alert. "What is it?” he asked. "A man's face," she said. “A horrible face. He was looking at you." Bucky thought, "I've been a damned fool. I shouldn't have brought Nancy or come myself.” He said, "Probably some tramp. Let's dance." Nancy rose at once. A pulse of excitement was beating in her throat. She heard Bucky give low-voiced instructions to the waiter. In leading. Bucky kept away from the doors, near lhe centre of the floor, close to other couples. When the music stopped he led the way to an alcove, to which their table had been transferred. "It’s a progressive dinner," he explained. "We move from one place lo another.” The window curtains had been drawn. -From where Bucky sat now he faced all the entrances to the dining room. "Is there anything I can do?" Nancy asked, as soon as the waiter had gone. "Not yet. 1 dare say I'm overcautious. We’ll sit tight a while. I’m hying to make up my mind whether to' call up Chief O’Sullivan." "That's just what I’m going to do." the girl replied, with swift decision, rising to her feet. "Wail a minute,” he suggested. "Let me send some one to scout around the house first. We don’t want to be foolish about, this, a face at the window isn’t enough i<> g () O n.” “I saw the lace. You didn’t. It was . . . awful. I’m going to ask for help, no matter who thinks I’m a Traid-cat.” (To be Com inued. i