"CRASH!"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 7 November 1939, Page 10

"CRASH!"

COPYRIGHT. PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

BY

ARTHUR APPLIN.

Author of “Adventure for Two,” “Winning Through,” “Cold Cream,” etc.

CHAPTER XXXII. (Continued > “I'm sure you’d have done the same!” ; the colonel said. “Well, she began to cry. I told her I remembered her as t stewardess on me Atlantia, and then she confessed everything—she had got into the hands of a gang of crooks and the blackguards had forced into Becoming their accomplice. They were well known on the ship as card-sharp-ers, but no one had ever been able to catch them. Obviously they intended to use her as a decoy when they reached Europe, and meanwhile they had given her a valuable pearl necklace, realising that it would be far easier for her to conceal it on landing than if it were in their possession. She was too frightened to refuse, but when the ship reached Plymouth she managed to escape without the gang’s knowledge—they went on the Cherbourg. Not knowing what to do, and frightened lest the necklace were found in her possession, she pawned it. “Just before she told me this she had seen a notice in the paper offering a reward for a pearl necklace exactly like the one that had been passed to her. She redeemed it. intending to restore it and get the reward. I believed her story —" "One always believes a pretty woman!" Garcia interjected, and Johnny felt the senora pinch his arm. “I warned her that she stood in danger of being arrested as a thief—it wasn’t the sort of tale the police would believe, nor the owners of the necklace. I pointed out that she had put herself in the wrong by pawning it—she ought to have taken it to Scotland Yard at once. She then begged me to take charge of it. get into communication with the owners and restore it! It was weak of me, perhaps, but I felt so sorry for the poor child that I agreed. That very night, the police arrived at the boarding house to make inquiries. I thought the best thing to do was to say nothing until I had seen Peggy again. Sne didn’t return to the boarding-house, and the next thing we heard was that she had been killed in ; an air crash, flying to the Continent. Obviously someone had warned her— , and I think I know who it was—a ■ young man at the boarding-house who was very much in love with her ... A tragic business, Mr Garcia, you will i agree very tragic.” The Colonel’s < voice broke, and they heard him blow t his noise violently. There was a moment's silence, then ] Garcia said: “Well, I am much indebt- ; ed to you, Colonel. You’ve got the i necklace? Perhaps you’ll let me see < it, so that my wife can identify it. If ] it is the one we lost. I hope you will accept the reward we offered.” Again the colonel blew his nose. "Very good of you. I’m sure! I don't 1 know that—l am entitled—l’ll admit ( I'm not a rich man, and" —he gave a £ forced laugh—“a thousand pounds isn’t 1 ■to be sneezed at in these days . . Well here’s the necklace.” c Again there was silence; then Garcia ' said: “It looks all right to me . . . Doi- £ ores!” he shouted, “will you come here e a moment?”

Mrs Garcia looked al Johnny, slowly closed one eye, and opening the door wide she took Peggy’s hand and walked into the room. Johnny followed. “Good morning; Colonel Phillipson!" he said. The colonel was standing in the middle of the room, one of Garcia’s halfsmokes cigars between his fingers. It dropped to the ground and lay smouldering at his feet. Garcia said: “This is my wife- and let me introduce you to two friends of mine—Mr John Harcourt, and the young lady in whom you took stich a kindly interest. You see, she wasn't killed in that aeroplane accident—so it simplifies everything, doesn't it?’’ The colonel didn't move or speak. He was paralysed. His face changed colour—first it became white, then it assumed a deathly grey pallor. His eyes protruded. Garcia handed the pearly necklace to his wife: “This is yours, isn’t it, dear?” She looked at it, examined the clasp carefully: “Yes, without a doubt.” “Good!" Garcia rubbed his hands together. “Excuse me, Colonel, but your cigar's burning a hole in the carpet! Aren’t you feeling well? May I give you a glass of brandy?" The colonel put. his hand up to his collar, trying to loosen it. Slowly he turned his head and looked at the door, then at the opened windows. He moistened his lips and with an effort found his voice. “This—this, is a trick." He stammered. “Is that all you’ve got to say?” Garcia asked. “That girl,” the colonel stammered, pointing at Peggy, "is a crook.” Garcia walked over io the telephone: "Then perhaps we had better send for

the police." Dolores laid her hand on his arm: "No,” she said softly. “Poor old man —let him go.” Suddenly the colonel began to cry. Johnny turned away. He had left a little sorry for him until that moment. “My wife," the colonel said, "this will kill her." Garcia shrugged his shouders: "You admit you have been lying, and that you stole this necklace from Miss Peggy Strong’s bedroom?” The colonel nodded: “I took it. Yes, that’s true—but solely for the purpose of restoring it to you—l swear to that." Garcia tore up the cheque he had written out: “Solely for the purpose of making a thousand pounds, you mean! Have you got your return ticket to London, Colonel?” The colonel wiped his face with his j handkerchief: “No! No. I had to borrow money to get here.” Garcia gave him a thousand-franc note- “You must get out of this town

before eight o’clock tonight.” With trembling hands the colonel took it; with trembling hands he picked up his hat and stick, walked slowly to the door, and went out. Garcia looked at Johnny and nodded: "I quite enjoyed that little experiment. When I’m on the Board of Directors of your company I'll see you're promoted, young man. Meanwhile—” Garcia sat down at his bureau and wrote out another cheque. "Here’s your thousand pounds, Peggy. By the way, you owe me the thousand francs I lent you yesterday.” She shook her head, and Johnny saw her teeth holding her lower lip: "It's two or three hundred pounds.” she said unsteadily. “A thousand francs.” Garcia bellowed. "I don’t take other people’s winnings, but you can ask us to dinner at the Casino tonight if you like, though I shan’t come unless your young man promises not to give my wife more than one dance.”

Peggy nodded: "All right.” She looked at Dolores. "Dick should be here this evening, and he's just as good a dancer as Johnny. Mrs Garcia.” Garcia rang the bell and ordered a bottle of champagne to drink Johnny’s and Peggy's health. "Suppose you’ll get married now?” Johnny put his' arm round Peggy's waist: "Immediately—or sooner! The Riviera’s a lovely place for a honeymoon, darling?’ THE END. SHOT IN THE BUS REMARKABLE TRAGEDY ON A COUNTRY ROAD. While running between Colborough Netherton a bus developed engine trouble. There was repeating backing, which annoyed the passengers, until, after one explosion, they saw a man, in one of the forward seats, double up and collapse. He had been shot dead under cover of the noise from the exhaust. A tally of the passengers showed that there were 11 people on the bus at the lime of the shooting, including driver, conductor and victim. Which of these committed the murder?

Such is the question posed by Leslie Cargill in his ingenious and exciting story, “Death Goes By Bus” which begins publication in the “Times-Age” on Wednesday. Leslie Cargill is supremely good at this type of story. He is. above all, plausible. His people are real people, and the situations that occur strike the reader as being true to life. “DEATH GOES BY BUS” provides such a mepns of escape. And even when you have finished an instalment you will find your mind still held by its problem. Be sure to begin the story al the first chapter, board the bus with Morrison Sharpe shortly before the fatal shot, and see if you can detect the murderer at the outset.