"GAY VENTURE"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 30 October 1940, Page 10

"GAY VENTURE"

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

By

T. C. BRIDGES.

CHAPTER XIII. (Continued “And I tell you that you will stay here until you have made up youi mind to marry Jack Sagar. ’ Eve was roused at last. “I can’t stay in the house of a man whom I have refused to marry. You must know that as well as I do, Miss Lynd.” “I’m not leaving,” Miss Lynd s tone was definitely hostile. “And how aie you going to?” she added with a sneer. For the moment Eve had forgotten the loss of her purse. Now remembrance came like a thunderbolt, and with it sudden suspicion. "So that is why I have lost my money,” she said so sharply that Miss Lynd started. “What do you mean?” she demanded. “I hardly think it necessary to explain, Miss Lynd. But if you want it in so many words I will tell you that I believe my purse was stolen after I reached this house.” Miss Lynd thrust out her skinny right arm towards Eve. "You dare talk like that!” she screamed. “You dare to insult me! Leave the room.” Eve was as angry as the older woman but had better control of her temper. She stood very still gazing straight into the other’s wrinkled face. Miss Lynd’s eyes dropped. "Yes,” said Eve at last. "I think it is time I went." Turning, she left, the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She went straight to her own room and changed. Then she glanced at her watch. It was almost one. “Too late now,” she said quite calmly. Besides, I want my lunch.” A mpment later the gong sounded and she went down. Jack Sagar met her in the hall. "Don’t let this make any difference, Eve,” he said in a low voice. “I wont offend again.” Then in a louder tone —“Miss Lynd isn’t coming down. She sent word that she isn’t very well and Will lunch in her room.”

“I’m sorry,” Eve said in a perfectly level voice, and went into the dining room. She made a thoroughly good lunch and chatted casually to her host. It almost made her laugh to realise what a good actress she had suddenly become. “I should like to try the river again this afternoon,” she said to Sagar. “There’s a nice breeze.” “I hope you’ll get some trout,” Sagar said and that was all. Half an hour later Eve started, carrying’her rod in her hand, and with her fishing bag slung over her shoulder. If the bag was rather full no one but herself noticed that fact or knew that it contained, instead of tackle, a change of clothes, night things and all Eve’s small valuables. She walked up the river, casting occasionally across a pool, until she was well out of sight of the house, then hiding the rod in a hollow tree, she left the stream and cut across to the road, when she turned in the direction of Moreton. By three she had reached the town and was strolling along the street, looking for a jeweller’s shop. She found a small one and went in. A short, elderly, bald-headed man was behind the counter. “I am on a walking tour,” Eve told him, “and have had the ill-luck to lose my purse. Luckily I have a gold bracelet which has no Special sentimental value. I am wondering if it is worth enough to see me home.” The old chap gave Eve a quick glance, but could see no reason for doubting her story. “May I see,” he said pleasantly and Eve handed over the bracelet. It was a heavy, old-fashioned thing left her by her mother. The jeweller tested and weighed it. “I can give you seven pounds for it," he said. Eve smiled. “That,” she said, "will more than see me home.” The man paid her over seven Treasury notes and Eve thanked him and went out to find the Post Office. The next thing was to look up the telephone ’number of the Kingscotes. The trunk call was put through, but the voice which answered was not familiar. “Is Mrs. Kingscote at home?” Eve asked. She got a shock. “She and Major Kingscote are away for a week. They won’t be back till Friday next. They are on a driving tour in Wales." “Thank you. I will write,” said Eve and hung up. She stood with her pretty forehead puckered in a frown, wondering what next to do, then like a flash came the thought of Joyce. She had not Joyce’s address but Dicky would know, and he would be at Bragnell Aerodrome. A second trunk call was put through and, to Eve’s delight, she was told that Mr. Trask was “somewhere about,” and they would find him. The wait seemed long, but at last she heard someone at the other end.

"You, Miss Nisbet!" came Dicky's voice. "Where are you?” “Moreton Hampstead in Devonshire.” “Is anything wrong?” "Quite a lot. I've had a row with Miss Lynd and I've run away. I wondered if Joyce would help me, but I haven’t her address.” “She’s in rooms in Greenwell Gardens in Chelsea, Number is 12. See here, I'll send her a wire to expect you. When do you get to Waterloo?” “Nine,” said Eve. "You're an angel, Mr. Trask.” Eve heard him laugh as she hung up, then she walked briskly to the station and took her ticket. The train was almost empty. She leaned back comfortably and considered things. They might be worst, she decided, a great deal worse. Though Miss Lynd’s outburst had shocked her, the break had to come sooner or later and now it was complete. Miss Lynd had tried to sell her to Sagar. She had failed and that was the end of it. Now theie was nothing to do but wait until

Keith came back and then they would be married. The first thing Eve saw on getting out at Waterloo was Joyce’s bright little face. She took both Eve’s hands. “I don’t in the least know what’s wrong, but I’m terribly glad to see you,” she exclaimed. ' “Let’s get a taxi and then we’ll talk.” Talk they did, and by the time they reached Greenwell Gardens Joyce knew all about Eve’s adventures. The house was tall and gloomy, but Joyce’s tony fiat was the very reverse. It was bright and cheerful and a dainty supper was laid out on the table. Over the meal the two girls still talked, and Eve learned that Joyce worked in a shop at three pounds a week. “I’m going to pay my share so long as I’m here,” Eve said firmly. “You’ll do just what I tell you,” replied Joyce, "or you'll find me a lot worse than Miss Lynd. Now you'll go to bed. You must be worn out after the day you've had.” , "I’m very happy,” said Eve, as she kissed the other. "You and Dicky are dears.” Joyce had to be at the shop by nine. After she left Eve went straight to Miss Lynd’s flat. Rose’s eyes widened in amazement at sight of her, and again Eve had to explain at length. Rose was indignant. "Thd old cat! li’s my belief she planned the whole thing. If she thinks I’m going to stay after this she’s got another think coming. And now you’ll want your things, Miss. I’ll pack them for you. Between, them they packed Eve’s spare suit case and Eve took a taxi back to Greenwell Gardens. When Joyce came home that evening tired out she found everything in apple-pie order and supper waiting. She clasped her hands in delight, and kissed Eve warmly.

“My dear, you can’t imagine what this means to me. It’s just heaven. 1 wish you could stay with me always. “I would if I hadn’t another job on hand,” Eve said with a laugh. “You’ll stay till Keith cojpes, won’t you?” Joyce begged. “I love staying here,” Eve said. “I wasn’t happy a minute in Devonshire. I sort of knew what was coming.” “That’s all over,” Joyce told her. “There’s no reason why you should ever see Miss Lynd again—or Sagar. Keith will take jolly good care of that, I’m sure. Have you written and told him?” “I can’t. He didn’t give me any address. I have to wait till he comes home.” Those were very pleasant days Eve spent in Joyce’s little flat. She wrote to Jane and told her something of what had happened. She also wrote a polite letter to Sagar, explaining exactly why she had felt forced to leave but putting no blame on him. All the same, the more she thought things over the more puzzled ’she became. For the life of her she could not see why Miss Lynd had sent for her from New Zealand or given her the money to come home. It did not seem possible that Sagar had put her up to this for, as far as she knew, Sagar was not even aware of her existence until he met her in the ship. Joyce was as puzzled as she. “Anyhow, it doesn’t matter,” Joyce said with her gay laugh. “Keith will be home in a few weeks, and then you have nothing to do but get married and live happily ever afterwards.” “I wish he'd write,” said Evo. “I’m hoping every day for the letter I don’t get.” On the very next morning Eve got the long expected letter from Keith. It had been posted at Oran and sent byair mail. He told her that he was just off on his flight across the desert. “I have a private plane and feel no end of a swell. It's going to cost Lorenz something, but he says it’s worth it. These animals must be got to the coast as quickly as possible.” Joyce went off to her work and a little later Eve went out to shop. She had nearly reached home when a man came down the street carrying a sheaf of evening papers. “All the news!” “Plane disappears in desert," were the words she read on the bill he carried. A cold hand 'seemed to grasp Eve’s heart, yet her fingers were quite steady as she found a penny and proffered it. There was no need to open the paper; the news was on the front page. Anxiety is felt at Oran concerning the fate of a plane which left this • place on Tuesday last for Dakar. It reached Beni Abbes, but has not since been heard of and fears are entertained for the fate of the passenger and pilot. The passenger is an Englishman Captain Keith Hedley, well known as a collector of wild animals. It is understood that he was on a special mission for the Hamburg firm of Lorenz. (To be Continued).