“MAN FROM THE AIRPORT”

Wairarapa Times-Age, 11 December 1939, Page 12

“MAN FROM THE AIRPORT”

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

COPYRIGHT.

By

LESLIE BERESFORD.

Author of “Mr Appleton Awakes." "The Other Mr North,” etc.

CHAPTER 11. Continued. “No use discussing it, Mr Hughson." Peters interrupted him coldly. "I gave you my decision the last time we talked about it. And I’ve no intention whatever of altering that decision. Indeed. I’m surprised you seern to think you have the slightest right to discuss it.” “I’ve this much right,” snapped, the other. "You’re a servant of the WestCentral Sydnicate, and the whole of your time is at th,eir disposal. You admit having spent a great deal of spare time on experiments and calculations over this business. If I liked to disclose the facts to the directors, they can legally claim the results of that time ” “Do so, Mr Hughson, by all means." Peters shrugged and laughed. “There is, however, one thing you and they cannot do. Force me to disclose details of the invention, or hand over any plans and designs I may have made. Sooner than that, I'd destroy all papers, and drop the thing entirely." “Now. listen. Peters . . Hughson could see he must change his tactics, and again he assumed an air of friendliness. “I've no intention of saying anything to anyone,” he went on. "I'll be perfectly frank, and put all my cards on the table. For certain reasons, I'm in need of money. Well, you’re out to make money too, and no doubt that invention will rake it in for you. But there are snags about that, too. Before' your invention is worth anything at all. money has to be put into it, as you know." “Where are you going to get that financial support?” he asked. "It may not be so easy as you imagine. In your position, what financier- is likely to be interested in you? Now, that is where I come in. Take me in with you, and the rest is going to be easy. I can do a lot for you, while helping myself as well.”

“Possibly," Peters admitted. "Unfortunately for you, I don’t want you to do anything for me. Nor can I see why you should help yourself by picking my brains. No, Mr Hughson. If that’s all you want with me, you're wasting your time and mine.” As he turned to go, Hughson rose to his feet. He- still had a conciliatory pose, his voice pleasantly persuasive. “One moment, Peters,' he said. “Is it really such waste of time? You and I might, through that invention of yours, become directors of this syndicate, and that would mean a great deal. V/hy not think the matter over? You mentioned that you haven't as yet dined. Do so with Rose and myself. I know, only too well, that Rose would give you a hearty welcome. I'm afraid. Peters, you've made a deep and lasting impression on my little girl." Peters heard this in dumb amazement. He did not doubt that Hughson knew quite well of Rose’s misguided infatuation for him. But, that the man should trade on this to persuade him into a partnership swept Peters with a feeling of nausea. "I’m afraid, Mr Hughson, that the impression is one-sided." he said. "It's very unfortunate, but' —as a matter of fact —I've been obliged, only this evening. to expressed my regret to Miss Rose that ” “So -!’ Hughson interrupted, him fiercely, his face crimson with fury. “And that's your last word, is it?" “I’m sorry," Peters shrugged. “You can be sorry for yourself," the other raged, “a fair offer, and you've seen fit to turn it down. Well, I'll make you sit up for that, Peters. I can —and you know it. I've given you a taste of my authority already, to try and bring you to your senses. I'll give you hell from now on——” "No, you won't, Mr Hughson. I'm resigning here and now. My letter will be in your hands in the morning. Hughson was clearly taken aback, but tried not to show it. "I should think twice about that, if I were you,’ he threatened, "Pilot these days, are twenty a penny, and you'll look for a new berth with no letter of recommendation from this syndicate. On the contrary—l warn you—l'll do my damndest to queer your pitch for you ” '“Good for you, Mr Hughson!" Peters laughed, and made for the door, which he held open, turning for one last word with the other, who hunched—an image of malevolent fury—at his table. "I should get on with the dirty work, if I were you,” said Peters. “It's right up your street, if I'm any judge of you; and it won’t worry me any.” All the same, Peters was worried. As he passed out through the entrancelounge. he caught a glimpse of Rose Hughson in a doorway, doubtless hoping the interview would have ended differently. No doubt whatever, she had been behind her fathers fresh attempt tonight to force the issue. In forcing Peters to sudden resignation, he had gone further than the latter had intended.

He might indeed find difficulty in securing a fresh berth, for these days an increasing air-mindedness had multiplied pilots, recruited now from all classes, the job being no longer so specialised as it had been. So Peters went, on out into the hot night in no happy frame of mind. He was turning to fulfil his promise and join his two friends at the pilots' mess, when he discovered that they were standing just outside the Uughsons’ house, obviously on the look-out for him. He joined them with a dry little laugh. “The fat's well in the lire, boys!" he said. “Hughson and I have had the gloves off and fought to a finish, lie wins. if it can be called a win Any-

how, West-Central won't have me as a pilot after tonight." "What —he's been after firing you. the damned blighter?" exclaimed O - Corrigan. “Nut he. I’ve fired myself.” Peters exclaimed, and was about to add more when Pierre de Brissac laid a hand on his arm. "Let that wait, mon ami,” he interrupted. “You can tell us the whole story afterwards. We came along to look for you, because —just after you left us —a guy came asking for you. Says it's important he should see you at once. So —” For the first time, Peters realised that they _ were not alone. A smallmade and lean man hovered in the darkness of the background. Peters saw, as he now stepped forward into the glow of an arclight, that his wizened little face had an expression combining eagerness and cunning. "You're Mr John Peters, I understand.' he said. "Well. sir. I've come a long way to see you. For why? I've something to tell you which is to your advantage.” Peters stared for a moment at this complete stranger, who said he had come a long way to see him, with something to tell him “which would be to his advantage." He had no idea what it could be or who the man was, but he liked the old-fashioned phrase and the suggestion of a legacy. “Sounds like something to do with the law,” .he addressed the other laughingly, after a moment of silence. "But, as the law and I have been complete strangers from my youth up —"

“It is to do with law, Mr Peters," the little man admitted, with a chuckle. "Matter of fact. I’ve been — more or less —connected with the law for many years. And that’s how " he hesitated a moment, looking around —then added: “I’m afraid it’s rather a long story I have to tell. I’d like for us to talk in a more private spot, if possible.” “By all means," Peters turned to the others. “He’d best come along with us to the mess. It won't be too crowded round about now.” They agreed, moving round the outskirts of the airport till they reached .the lighted building in which the syndicate’s pilots fed. and enjoyed the surroundings of what was, in effect, their private club. It was not, as Peters had guessed, very full. The dining-room, indeed, had but two occupants, deep in talk, and not 'even noticing their entry. Peters led the way to a corner table at the far end. which a waitress began at once to furnish with plate and glass, greeting them pleasantly. The little stranger, when Peters handed him the menu, said that he had already dined at the- hotel, so the others ordered for themselves. When the waitress had gone, the little man leaned forward, looking doubtful. “I was expecting, Mr Peters." he •said, "that you and I would be alone. I mean—the business on which I have come is for your private information, you see."

“These gentlemen,"—Peters gestured towards de Brissac and the Irishman, introducing them by name, “are friends of mine. Anything you may have to say to me can just as well be said in their presence, as I shoud no doubt tell them afterwards, even if you didn’t, Mr ——?”

"Tucker.” the little man supplied his name. "Clarence William Tucker. As I have said. I've been more or less engaged in the law for years —" “And you look like it!" O’Corrigan roared in his impulsive way. "It's a queer thing what an ill-fed. bloodless lot, the lawyer-folk are. No offence intended, of course— —" The little man, inclined to stand on his dignity at first, forced a laugh. Here, in the light, beside these weather beaten men, he certainly looked a dried-up specimen of humanity. Peters studying him now more carefully, was not impressed. The foxincss of his wizened face did not invite confidence. And what such a man could have to do with him lie still could not understand. He was anxious to have the point made clear.

“Well. now we’re formally introduced” he said, "supposing you trot out this queer information of yours, which you say is to my advantage. How you can know anything about, me, for a start, seems to need explanation. "Quite.” agreed the other, his beady eyes glittering with a forced expression of amusement, and then he leaned forward. “I’ll tell you something about yourself, Mr Peters." he said, "which you probably think is wrong altogether. Your name isn't Peters at all." 'Die statement made something of a sensation at the table. De Brissac and the Irishman turned to stare from the little man to Peters and back again. Peters, meantime, showed no surprise. "Peters was my father's name, anyhow." he returned. "Clive Peters." “I know—l know!" nodded the little man. “And, no doubt, you were christened John Peters too. But. that was not your proper name, either. This. I'm sure, will come as a surprise to you. I quite expected that it would." "What I'm expecting,” Peters laconically, “is that you'll be so good as Io say what the name should be, and on what you base the information." "That’s exactly what I'm here to do." responded the other, a crafty little smile twisting his pallid face. He had. an air of importance, as if lie knew that. he. and the secret behind his tongue. dominated the silence at the table. He held that silence Lengthily, as though enjoying himself, till the Irishman intervened in his impulsive way. (To be Con tinned J