"SECOND CHANCE"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 4 September 1940, Page 10

"SECOND CHANCE"

BY

CHAPTER VII . “It’s rather like looking for a very small needle in a very big haystack.” the librarian said. “If I had got the year it would be possible,” Mary said, almost to herself. “It wouldn't take long to look through the files for one year, of course,” the librarian said. ••Thank you. I may come back, said Mary. She had decided that without more data to go on the job she had in mind was hopeless. “You look tired, dear,” her mother said when she reached home. “Yes. And I'm hungry.” “All right at the office?” “Yes.” . . t “Well, I hope you’re staying in tonight .dear. You look very tired. I don’t believe in these late nights. “Yes. I’m going to put my slippers on and settle down for a read.” “Bother!” her mother said an houi later as the phone went. “I wish we’d never had that thing in the house.” Mary smiled as she rose from her chair.

It was Garrod. “I’ve had a chat with your friend Mr Teddy Wilson,” he said.

“Oh?” she said in surprise. “I don’t think he'll interfere any more with Ferguson.” “That's nice of you, George,” she said. "And I’m grateful.” “I don’t pretend to love him,” he said. “But he’s a friend of yours.” “Look here, George. Supposing I wanted to read about a certain law case—about a man being sent to prison, say—what would be the best time to look for?” “I don’t quite see what you mean." "I know that your regulations prevent your telling me certain things and I respect you for not telling. But I do want to find out the truth. There s a file of the ‘Courier’ at the library, but it’s an immense job going through year after year. What year was it? Surely it can’t hurt your telling me that?” There was silence on the phone for a moment or so, then a muttered figure. “Quite early in the year, I think, speaking from memory,” he added. “Thanks, George. You’re a real pal." “I want to be, Mary,” he said. “It can’t do any harm telling you what I’ve done. I saw the other evening you had tumbled to what had happened.” “Yes, .1 did.” “And let me know if he’s worried any more, won’t you? But I don t think, he will be.” “He hasn’t got many friends,” she said quietly. “No. But he’s got one. I hope it is only friendship,” he said doubtfully. “Don’t be silly, George!” she said. “Still, in spite of everything, he seems a very decent chap." “In spite of everything,” she agreed. "I shall go to the library tomorrow and turn it all up. I'm prepared for a bit of a shock, but I feel certain it’s nothing disgraceful." “It depends what you cal} disgraceful.”

"Of course. But I'm certain that he wouldn’t have done anything mean.” “What about the pictures on Friday? “Yes, I think I’d like it .George. You really are an old dear to worry about me at all.”

“This business with Ferguson merely makes me fonder of you. I can see that you’ve acted just as I should have expected you to.” “You , haven’t acted badly either, George. Thanks ever so much! Cheerio!”

And with that she rang off. At the office the next day she only saw Ferguson once and that but for a moment or so. He seemed quiet and. she thought, worried, but that, as she knew, might easily have been her imagination. Just before lunch, however, Mr Mumford was on the phone to the London office and although his name was not mentioned she was certain that he and Mr Trevowe were talking about Ferguson. “He’s turning out to be a very useful man,” Mumford said, evidently in reply to a question. “He’s not afraid of work for one thing.” That was all, for the manager went on to speak of something else. On her way home, after the day’s work was finished, Mary Donovan went into the public library again and was soon deep in a file of the “Daily Courier."

Excepting for the girl behind the counter she was alone in the room. At the end of half-an-hour's search, suddenly, from the printed page, the picture of Ferguson was looking at her. It was unmistakable. Below the picture she read: “Ferguson Hallett, who was sentenced at the Old- Bailey yesterday to three year’s penal servitude in connection with the misappropriation of funds at Messrs Murray Bros., East Indian Merchants.” The room seemed to be slowly revolving round her, but she gripped herself. So here was the truth! He had been in prison.

Quickly she worked it out. She knew that prisoners have a quarter of their sentence remitted for good conduct, and that meant that he had come to Mossford within a week or so of leaving prison. Teddie Wilson knew it; that was the hold he had over him. And Lucia Desmund must also have known’it. Had he been in love with her? Had she thrown him over when the smash came? Slowly she turned back the pages. “The Dawson Case,” she read, and then the smaller heading: "Sentences.” “Yesterday at Old Bailey, Mr Justice Macauley sentenced the three who were charged in connection with the frauds at Messrs Murray Bothers. John Trevitt, the London Manager, was sentenced to seven years' penal servitude; Henry Joyce Foskett, his assistant, received four years, and Ferguson Hallett. who was the senior clerk in the

HOLLOWAY HORN

(Author of “George,” “Two Men and Mary,” etc.