“RENTS ARE LOW IN EDEN”

Wairarapa Times-Age, 20 February 1940, Page 10

“RENTS ARE LOW IN EDEN”

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

By

PETER BENEDICT.

CHAPTER IX. (Continued.) Plain they were, anti ’ne admitted it, but they were compact and solid at least, and not bad-looking even in their naked newness. He deplored that rawness which labour left in its trail; but at worst it was a passing handicap which the cultivation of the front gardens already marked out would soon overcome. Adam was not ill-pleased. In the office beside the store-shed young Kenworth was at work with his chin upon his pen. He looked up as Adam entered, said: “Oh, hullo, sir! Nice morning!” and went back to his scribbling. “Bran rang up; he won’t be over until Wednesday, unless you wan’t him desperately before then. But I told him you’d ring him this afternoon; I wasn't expecting you until then

myself.” “That’s all right,” said Adam. “Wednesday will do. Is there any mail from Mickey?” “The usual list.” Kenworth pushed over with his pen. It was a fimiliar document to botn of them by this time, that list of favoured applicants combed out from no one but Mickey Dennis knew how many. Adam sat on the corner of the desk, and read it through with a slight, thoughtful frown. “Disheartening, isn’t it? And we’re more than full already. No matter how many houses you have to dispose of, you can always gel at least ten times as many applications, and all badly needing your favour too.” He swung the list in his hand. “I wonder what the brigand Beardsley would take for that farm he owns, on the Court RedclTff road?” “Every penny he could get out of you, you may bet.” Kenworth frowned in sympathy, sucked his pen, and suggested diffidently: “I suppose you haven’t thought about opening another ■estate in Court Redcliffe itself? It’s on the same road to town as this, and almost as attractive; the difficulties can't be much more than they have been here, and at any rate it isn’t under our precious Council.” “I’ve thought about it, yes; but I

want to see this one safely launched before I branch out any further. Look here, I’m going up to have a look at the new site, and see how Britten’s getting on; so if anyone want me, you’ll know where I shall be.”

He did’riot go round by the road, but

let himself into the meadows by the gate immediately above Catherine’s glade, and walked by field-paths just turning from green to a thin yellow under the still radiant sun of September. The way was shorter than the lane by a full ten minutes, and prettier, a quality which he valued surprisingly highly. Presently he was climbing the stile

into the third and highest field under the shadow of Castle Hill, and craning his neck to see the distant corner of it. where the walls of the new clubhouse were beginning to steal up out of the trampled turf, as yet only vague pink lines to him where he stood, but in due time to house a library, and a bil-liard-room, and a couple of lockerrooms, and a common-room, besides the caretaker of all this enterprise. The swimming-bath was to come next to it, close within the wall with which the holly hedge should in time be replaced and beyond Holly Lane itself there ran through hollowed meadows the stream which should feed it. Already the shell of the bath was cut, and heads and shoulders of men moved about within it like so many distorted dwarfs. There would, by present calculations, be ample room for the gymnasium, too, Desides the tennis courts, and the gardens, and the lawns, and all the other lesser delights which moved alluringly in his mind. A shallow boating-pool for the small children, perhaps, and a four-sided wind-shelter for the other people who wanted only to sit in peace and* read at their ease. He lingered lovingly over the idea of a cricket-ground, irreproachably smooth, and a pavilion, and the Court Brandon Cricket Club which had never yet achieved existence,' and perhaps never would. That was all in the future, and how far he did not pretend to know. It seemed to him, suddenly, that something was wrong ahead, that there was an awkward little group of men where none need have been, and that they were every one of them too engrossed in the business in hand to see his approach. Britten was among them, and talking as rapidly as any, which in itself was strange, for Britten was normally a man of few words. Then, as he drew nearer, he saw that the centre of the stage was held by another acquaintance of his. The little man in the bower hat had successfully found his billet.

Adam pushed into the circle, and caught Britten by the shoulder. "Here, what’s wrong? What’s going on?" The foreman turned a puzzled and angry face, and said: “I can’t make it out, sir, but there’s something up. There’s a fellow here who says he’s got some papers for you." He stood back, and the little man emerged, untroubled still, brisk and placid as if he had been an expected guest. Then, and not till then. Adam knew of what he was typical. They eyed each other, and the recognition was mutual, for the stranger gave a deprecating cough, and said apologetically: “Oh. its you, sir. I’m sorry. I’m sure, but duty's duty. You're Mr Adam Probert?" “That's my name.” “I've got a paper for you." He put a hand into an inside pocket, and produced it, and in dead silence handed it, over. Adam turned the long envelope I in his hand, and his face was blank,' though he knew what he held, knew

“You can take your whole gang out of here, and back to the old site. We’re doing no more here.” “For how long, Mr Probert?” asked Britten blankly, not daring to question in the terms his curiosity would have liked to choose. “Probably until after the end of the Michaelmas Term, possibly well into the Hilary Term, too. According to information received, we’re on ground which does not belong to us; and there's an official order out to prevent us from building on it—more than we have already—until the claim is settled.” “What, this field, sir?” cried Britten, staggered. “But we had it from the Council, all fair and square. What —?” “Apparently it wasn’t theirs to sell. How do I know the ins and outs of it yet? But take your men off it, and quickly—all the equipment, too — everything. We’re finished here. Get back to the bungalows, and let Kenworth know what’s happened, will you?”

“It’s precious little I know, myself," said Britten tartly. “Or I, or any of us. You can tell him there’s a suit lodged against us for possession of part of this field, and an injunction out to stop us using it until the case is heard. Tell him that, and he can hear the rest later. I’m going to see Washburn. If he can explain this away, he’s even a better liar than I took him for.”

He spun on his heel, and with the papers doubled in his hand ran back by the way he had come. Halfway down through the fields the path branched, an’d a cart track skirted to the

other side of Catherine's glade. By this track he came into the village more directly, and in twenty minutes was in the Court Brandon Council Offices, and imperiously demanding to see Mr Chairman Washburn.

Doors opened for Adam Probert with remarkable promptness in Court Brandon in those days. Whatever ne asked was given with absolute readiness, provided it involved no loss to the members of the Council; and within five minutes from the time that he had entered the building, he was spreading the notices before Councillor Washburn's starting eyes. “Will you tell me,” he asked, in a tone of ominous quiet, “exactly how you account for that?”

Councillor Washburn read, and his face became a chalky white. He looked up at Adam, and swallowed with a visible effort, and stared again at the fatal sheets on the desk before him. “Well?” said Adam. “It’s a lie; it must be a lie. The ground was ours. We bought it from Kerwin. Everybody knows that. There’s never been any question about the ownership of the place. This this is childish.” ‘And yet Mrs Court has a case. You don’t suppose she’s bringing it entirely on spite, do you? She must have a case that justifies examination. There’s a slip somewhere. How has it been allowed to creep in? Tell me that! Do you think I like being involved in lawsuits because I buy a piece of ground and build on it?" There was—as he had thought there would be—no sort of fight in Washburn. He babbled and beat his hands together in a peculiarly ineffective gesture.

"I assure you, Mr Probert, that I had no idea of this. There : s never been the slightest question that the land belonged to Kerwin, and before him to Green. Everyone will confirm it — every soul in the village knows it —it's a commonplace. This is some ridiculous mistake—. The case will collapse it must ”

“Is there any reason for you to be so scared, then?" asked Adam coolly, watching the twitching hands which afforded the best guide to the good councillor's mind.

“H’s most unfortunate most . You see, Mr Probert, there’s already been some unpleasantness about the sale. There has been talk of bringing the matter up ” He gasped like a stranded fish, and a fine sweat broke upon his smooth forehead. Adam leaned over the desk and finished the sentence for him. “At the next election! That means Redfern is still sceptical about your part in the I business, does it? Or it is Mrs Druce who doesn’t approve of any transaction in which she isn’t consulted?" The unhappy councillor wrung his hands. “And now this! What am I to' do?” j (To be Continued.) ‘

without at all understanding. He said quietly: “Very well, you’ve done your job, now get out of here." “Im sorry, sir,” said the little man cheerfully, “can’t be helped." And he tipped his bowler hat, and turned, and went briskly and gaily out of the combat. Adam opened the envelope. He was aware most keenly of the intense silence in which they watched him, the whole circle of them, not one attempting to go back to his work, and not one sufficiently alive to outer interests to order the others back. In this complete stillness he read the papers through; and his reaction was one for which no one had bargained, not even himself. He folded the sheets in his hand, and threw back his head, and laughed in genuine amusement and still more genuine admiration. He looked round, and all those shocked and puzzled faces appeared to him, for a moment, ludicrous; then the spontaneous tribute of his own instincts was over, and he was all cool reason again. The inevitable anger surged in, clear and breathless and stimulating, like the first wind of a battle. He turned to Britten.