"GAY VENTURE"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 4 November 1940, Page 10

"GAY VENTURE"

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

COPYRIGHT.

By

T. C. BRIDGES.

CHAPTER XVIII. (Continued >■ Eve held her breath. For the moment she entirely forgot her own danger in fear for Sagar. Out in the open, with no weapon, it did not seem that he had a chance against this savage beast. „ , He stood quite still, his eyes fixed on the bull which came thundering down upon him. At the last moment, just when the sharp horns were within a few feet of his chest he stepped swiftly to one side. What happened next was so swift her eyes could hardly follow it. Sagar’s arm shot out, and as the bull passed he caught it by the left horn, and with a quick spring was on its back, grasping a horn with each hand. The bull seemed paralysed by this unexpected attack and pulled up so short that it skidded. Eve saw its head go sideways. Sagar was flinging all his weight on the right horn, wrenching the bull’s head over so that it almost seemed as if its neck would be broken. The struggle lasted but a few seconds, then the stocky beast crashed heavily on its right-side while Sagar jumped clear as it fell. All the fight was knocked out of the bull. It scrambled up, shook its head uncertainly, then trotted meekly away to join the rest of the haerd.

Sagar arrived at the bank in time 10 help Eve out of the water. Next minute, with a dull roar, a yellow flood wave thundered round the curve just above the pool and instantly the ledge was covered by a raving brown flood.

“Mighty good thing I came up after you,” said Sagar. “It was Joyce sent me. Said it was going to rain and you hadn’t any coat.” Eve’s eyes were shining. “How did you do it, Jack? It was like a bull fight, but much more exciting. I never dreamed that anyone could jump on the back of a charging bull, let alone throw it as you did.” Sagar smiled. ‘You wouldn’t think much of it if you’d ever seen a Western rodeo. It’s one of the regular’ stunts. Bull-dogging we call' it and there’ll be a dozen or more men in for it. They have to throw bullocks and tie them and the one that does it quickest gets the money.” “It was a wonderful piece of work,” Eve said warmly. “You saved my life, Jack.” She pointed to the river roaring down bank high. “I should have been somewhere under that,” she added. Sagar said nothing and suddenly Eve realised that the man loved her as much as it was in his power to love anyone. She felt oddly shaken. “The rain is coming. We had better get back,” she said. Big drops were falling. Sagar got her light waterproof which he had dropped before facing the bull. He held it for her to put on, then they two walked back to Crofton. The storm passed, grumbling away into the- west; the rain ceased. They paused on the bridge to look at the river which was coming down in full and splendid flood. Its hoarse roar filled the quiet evening air. The sun was breaking through the clouds, making the raindrops sparkle on the leaves and grass. The flower beds in front of the house were a carpet of brilliant colour. Eve felt that she had never loved a place so much. Suddenly Sagar was speaking. “Eve, I can’t stand it. I’m going back to America. I’ll sell this place. Eve was startled. “Sell Crofton?” she repeated in dismay. “What’s the use of it to me?” he asked harshly. He paused, then struck by a new idea, went on. “Say, I’ll give it to you, Eve.” Eve gazed at him wide-eyed. “Yes,” he said. You like it. You’ll run it properly. I’ll give it you. The rents are pretty good. You can live here all right.”

“But I can’t take it,” Eve answered faintly. “It’s impossible—utterly impossible.” “I guess you'll have to if I deed it to you.” Eve looked again at the house —the friendly house she loved so well. Never before had she fully realised what the ownership of such a place would mean. She had lost Keith. The best of her life had gone with him, yet here she could live contentedly and usefully. She could be friends with the tenants, she could have Joyce and Dicky to stay. She might even make Dicky manager and then he and Joyce could marry. Sagar meant what he said. Of that there seemed no doubt. All these thoughts went through her mind in a flash.

“You’d better say yes,” he said. She shook her head. “No, it’s impossible. It can’t be done. Jack.” “You know you've got to have the place—even if you have to take me with it.” He looked at her again from under his half-closed eyelids. “There. I reckon I’ve broken my word, out ycu won’t be hard on me, Eve.” Eve leaned against the parapet of the bridge. She was trying to recover herself, to think clearly. Keith was ■gone. Why, after all, should she not marry this man, and see what she could make of him? At any rate she would be mistress of Crofton. That in itself would be wonderful. Sagar seemed to be reading her thoughts. “I wouldn’t bother you much, Eve. You could run things to suit yourself. And you know by this time that I love you." Eve put out her hand. "Give me a little time, Jack. I don’t love you and I don’t know whether I’ve any right to marry you. I feel I’m being bribed. Wait till tomorrow and Til try to tell you.” "I’d wait a week or a month.” Sagar said, and they started up to the house. Eve slept little that night. She hail never felt so hopelessly unable to make up her mind. From every worldly point of view marriage with Jack Sagar was ideal. Jack was young, healthy, extremely

good looking. He had pluck, too, and generosity. In both these qualities he had proved himself that day. Above all he was in love with her. As his wife she would have a great position and great opportunities. She thought of all she could do for Petei and Jane, for Joyce and Dicky. Yet Eve was honest enough with herself to know that what most attracted her was the ownership of this kindly house where she would always feel at home. On the other side was the one fact that she did not love Jack Sagar, did not even like him. Was it right to marry a man you could not care for and let him be the father of your children?

Lying there in the warm darkness, with the windows open and the scent of the late roses in her nostrils, Eve looked back over the past few months and wondered if she could be the same gay young thing who had left New Zealand with the one thought of seeing London and having a good time. It hardly seemed possible. Meeting Keith had changed her, and the change was so great she hardly knew herself. She thought of Keith and wondered if, from whatever plane it was on which he now existed, he could see and sympathise with her. Eve was a oneman woman. She was certain that she could never really care for any other. Towards morning she dropped asleep from sheer fatigue. But sleep brought no decision and when Eve came down to breakfast she was as undecided as ever. Sagar was not down yet but Joyce was and Joyce looked up at her with troubled eyes.

‘Eve, you’re worried,” she said accusingly. “Just tired, dear,” Eve said. “I had a hard day yesterday.” Joyce looked doubtful, but before she could speak again Jabez Holt came in with the letters. His gross hideousness seemed to Eve a blot on the exquisite morning.

“Oh, here’s one from Dicky!” cried Joyce in delight. Eve, who had no post, smiled. The joy which these two had in one another was a constant delight to her. Eve was helping herself to omelette when she heard a cry of dismay from Joyce and turned quickly. “What is it, Joyce? Dicky’s all right?”

“Dicky’s lost his job. The Club’s gone to smash. Oh, Eve!”

‘My dear, so long as he’s not hurt, ’ said Eve with relief.

“But you don’t understand, Eve. Dicky put all his money into shares in the Club. It was only £3OO, but it’s all gone.” Eve came and stood by Joyce and put a hand on her shoulder.

“I didn’t know that. I'm very sorry, Joyce, dear.” Tears were in Joyce’s eyes.

"This put the finish on it, Eve. Now we shall never be able to marry." - That was what turned the balance. “You shall, Joyce.' I’ll help you. I'm going to marry Jack Sagar.” CHAPTER XIX. Joyce looked up quickly. Her lips were parted. There was a look of extreme amazement on her charming little face. Before she could find words Jack Sagar came in. “Good morning Eve,” he said. "Good morning, Joyce.” He looked at Eve questioningly and Eve continued to smile. His face lit up, but he had the good sense not to say anything. He turned to the side table and began to help himself to kidneys and bacon. Breakfast was a silent meal. Joyce was too upset, to talk; Eve did not know what to say, while Sagar never made conversation. But afterwards he followed Eve into the garden. “Eve,”—for once he was stammering and hesitant —“Eve, is—is it all right?” Eve faced him grave and quiet. “If you mean will I marry you the answer is yes.” He took a step forward, but she raised her hand. “Wait! I have to make conditions and you may not like them. In the first place I want time. It isn’t two months yet since Keith Hedley died. I must have at least six months. Secondly—and this sounds horribly mecenary —I want settlements. Not a great deal but enough money to allow me to help my friends without calling on you."

Sagar considered a moment, then nodded.

“I guess those terms are reasonable I’m agreeable, Eve.” “You are kind,” she said gratefully. He looked at her hungrily, and Eve knew what he wanted. She forced herself to let him kiss her and it was all she could do to repress a shudder. But Sagar did not notice. There was triumph in his look. “Six months,” he said. “That will be all right.” He laughed. “Looks like I’ll be turned into a squire after all." Just then Jabez Holt came into sight, and for once Eve was glad to see him. “You’re wanted on the telephone, sir,” he said, and Sagar, frowning, followed him into the house. Joyce came out and walked straight across to Eve. “Eve, did you mean it?" she asked directly. “Yes, Joyce," Eve said with equal directness. There was a puzzled look on Joyce's face. “I never thought ” she began, and stopped. "That I would marry anyone after losing Keith,” Eve ended for her. “Is that it?” “That what I wanted to say, only 1 thought it was horrid of me," Joyce said simply. "My dear, you are quite right. But Keith is gone. Jack seems to want me. and, as his wife, I can do something for him and more for others." Joyce was distressed. (To be Continued).