The Girl at The Gables

Waikato Times, Volume 108, Issue 18139, 2 October 1930, Page 4

The Girl at The Gabl es

| Serial Story 1

BY HERBERT GALWAY and ANN NEVERN.

S ■"■ (All Reserved.) g

SYNOPSIS. Philomel Sutton, who lives with her Aunt Amelia, sees an advertisement for a lady chauffeur wanted by Mr.. Martin Dreever, The Gables, Marshfield. In a mental hospital, in the West of England are two men who are groat friends, and have periodical attacks of insanity, but curiously enough never at the same time. , One is Reuben Dreever, who has been placed there by his brother Martin; the other is James Bantry. These two make their escape together. Reuben’s one idea is to have his revenge on his brother Martin, who is a money-lender and miser. He is known all' over for his meanness and merciless treatment of his victims. CHAPTER Hl.— (Continued.) Martin Dreever, fully-dressed, could be seen by the wavering hgjt standing on the highest step and holding a revolver which theatened eve y moment to tall from his slmlmg h “who—who's there?” he' quavered. There was no answer. “Who’s there?" he repeated, and the tones were those of a person nearly dead with fright. Without further warning he discharged the pistol blindly in the direction of the overturned table. The bullets embedded themselves harmlessly in the floor. The next moment Reuben Dreever and James Bantry were dashin? recklessly up the staircase. As the lays of the torch fell on the excited face of his • young brother, Martin fired aeain with the same result. u was his last effort. Like a tiger, Reuben sprang on his unnatural kinsman. The rankling hatred, bubbling so long under the surface, had at last found an outlet. He picked up the heavy revolver and crashed the butt on t head of the terror-stricken man. Martin Dreever went down like a felled ox and lay still. “Leave him there!” panted Bantry as he picked up the torch and examined the recumbent form. He s all right till we can look round. He° put on lights where necessary, and while Reuben held the revolver they searched the rooms. “No servants! Good! That makes it easier l' 1 A brief survey resulted in the finding of several pieces 6f strong cord in a lumber-room at the rear of the house, where a heterogeneous mass of odds and ends denoted the accumulation of years. . Quickly returning to the unconscious man, they bound him securely put a gag in his mouth, carried him through a little used door up a hidden staircase to the fourth storey, which lay behind The Gables, and flung him on the floor of a bare and isolated room. Banging the door shut behind them, the two friends went down the secret stair and out on the spacious landing, turning the key in the lock of the lower door as they did so. When, half an hour later, full consciousness returned to Martin Dreever, he heard faintly through the doors of his prison the same uncanny crowing laugh that, had disturbed him earlier in the night. Struggling to a sittin, position, as well as his bonds would allow, he leaned his aching head against the bare wall and wept. In a lower room James Bantry was bearing his share .of their voluntary burden. By sheer strength he was holding Reuben down on a couch while the unfortunate man raved and laughed and fouijht aa though possessed of a devil. All through that awful night be restrained his insane friend, until worn out by his exertions, merciful sleep overtook the demented man and he became qU A few minutes later, weary and fatigued by his long vigil, Bantry lay back in a deep chair, sleeping the sleen of complete exhaustion. When the two men awoke the sunlight was streaming through the uncurtained window and the morning was well advanced. All signs of the storm had vanished, both in the elements and in thfiir brains, and with the return of sanity they both became aware of their own immediate needs. “Jovel I’m hungry 1” exclaimed Reuben. “And sore,” he added as he rose to his feet. “I’m not surprised,” said Bantry grimly: “ so am *•" .“What! . Was I so—” “You were, my boy. I’m going to buy some flat straps. We might want ’em. It’ll save both of us a lot of trouble.” “I’m sorry, old man, but you know how it is. That devil upstairs—” “I’d forgotten him. Have a hunt round to see what there is in the way of food, while I go and see the —er —patient.” ' • James Bantry went upstairs to the little room in which Martin Dreever lay trussed up. Without a word he removed the gag from the moneylender’s mouth. The. immediate result was a torrent, of abusive protest. Bantry stood quietly smiling until the flood had expended itself, then he gfently explained who ho was and why he was there. “Your much-wronged brother and I have taken possession of the bous.e, and we are going to remain here until all your money is used up, and—” “Then what?" asked Dreever, with a face the colour of death. “Well, we haven’t decided yet,” laughed the other. “You have -quite a lot of money, haven’t you?” “You devil! You won’t get. a penny of mine if I can help it. If there’s any'.justice in the world you’ll pay dearly fo” this outrage!” “It’s ■' S t because there is justice in the world—fancy you talking of. justice?” again ,:the mocking laugh—“it’s just because there is justice in the world that we’re going to have your money, and you’re going to pay dearly for your past deeds. We should like io know first if you have any cash in the house and where it is; secondly your cheque-book—where is that?” “Find it—you thief !” A smack in the face with Ban try’s open hand was his reply to the taunt. “Your cheque-book, I said,” he went on coolly. “Don’t compel us to search you: I’m inclined to be rough.” “Undo this cord and you’ll find it in my inside pocket,” groaned the unhappy man as the marks of his captor’s fingers showed plainly on the pale, and stubbly cheek. “Now there’s still another little thing I want you to do,” went on Bantry gently, as he removed the book. ‘.‘.l shall want you to—” Ite broke off and went to the head of the staircase.

“Are you there, old man?" he called. “Bring up some notepaper and ink. Your brother wants to use it.”

Wondering greatly, Reuben came rapidly into the room after finding the necessary articles. They released Martin’s right arm and gave him a pen. V'

"Now write as'l dictate," said Bantry. “This is to/the manager of your •bank, explaining that your signature will be altered from this date and giving two specimens. ‘Dear sir.— Kindly note that in future my signature will be as below.’ ” But Dreever had not .written a word. / “Come along:- don’t/ waste time,” urged Bantry with ominous calm. “No! I’m damned if I’ll do it!" panted the usurer, moistening his dry lips. ' Without another word, Bantry drew tho victim’s own revolver from his pocket and touched the prisoner’s head with the cold barrel.. “Make up your mind auickly,” he commanded. “Is it to be life and time to repent, or hell in two minutes?” Martin Dreever wrote the note quickly and siened it. Then he collapsed into a shivering'mass. Reuben also signed “Martin Dreever” below twice as specimen signatures. The moneylender’s bonds were later entirely removed during the day, but at night he was bound up again,- although the 'gag was never replaced, his captors feeling confident' that the remoteness of his prison prevented sounds reaching the ears of anyone passing along the road. The door of the room however was kept locked at all. times, as also was the entrance to the narrow communicating stair. The advent, of the two friends completely revolutionised the whole atmosphere of The and to the eyes of the local world it seemed that Martin Dreever had at last decided to enjoy the wealth he had accumulated. James Bantry and Reuben Dreever had deemed it advisable to allow their beards to grow, and during that period they did not go out much in the daytime, but gradually improved conditions inside the house. Then The Gables slowly awoke; a garage was built to accommodate a recentlyacquired Rolls-Royce; and when . a middle-aged., widow-—Mrs. Jarrow was installed as housekeeper there was nothing to indicate that the transition from penury to prosperity was but a month old. The finishing touch to the metamorphosis was the insertion in the Morning Post of an advertisement for a chauffeur.

CHAPTER IV. Sir. Richard Preston, Lord of the Manor of Graylands, which bounded ohe side of the Marshfield district, was a philanthropist. One of his favGurite schemes was the settlement of ex-service men on the land as poultry farmers. . With this object he acquired the option to purchase a large tract of land in the neighbouring parish for a comparatively small sum, to let to the settlers at a nominal rent, imposed simply to remove any suggestion of charity. The idea was adopted with enthusiasm by the men concerned, and the mure ardent spirits among them beg n to prepare their agreed holdings, and, with the further assistance of Si, Richard, to erect bungalows and poultry-houses. But ' a trap lay in wait for the benefactor. When he called on the vendor’s solicitor to conclude the purchase he found, to his amazement, that the price had been increased by £2OOO. “Ridiculous!” he protested warmly. “I was told that I could have the land for £BOOO. -Now you make it £IO,OOO. I simply refuse to pay it!" “Well, then, I’m afraid my client will refuse to sell.” “I can’t understand it!” protested Sir Richard. “Here I had a definite offer of the laud for £BOOO, and ■” “Have you the offer in writing?” “Writing! What do you mean?” “Has this offer been put in concrete form in black and while? Is there any' document to show that ” “Do you take me for a liar? Why should I ” “No, no/.certainly not, Sir Richard, ’ was the suave interruption. “But in a court of law ” “Court of law,be damned!” stormed the knight. “Can’t a thing be arranged between gentlemen without written agreements? Are we all thieves and rogues?” “That’s an old-fashioned way of looking at the matter. It is advisable to have everything in writing now; and in the absence of any document in proof of your statement, Sir Richard. I feel obliged to do the best for my client.” “But-—but ” “Don't lose, your temper,” went on the solicitor, observing the boiling rage struggling for an outlet. “I am only obeying instructions, and they are that, as it was simply a verbal agreement—in fact, hardly an agreement—that you should purchase this, land for eight thousand pounds, my client regretfully feels compelled to accept an offer of ten thousand pounds." “you can tell your client to go to the devil!” raged Sir Richard, “and get the ten thousand if he can." “Very well, sir; he will close witli it to-day.” “Might I ask who is this fool with too much money who has suddenly taken a fancy to the land?” “He is no fool, Sir Richard. The prospective purchaser is Mr Martin Dreever, of The Gables. ’ “What! The money-lender? That harpy! . I’m surprised that your client should have any dealings wilii a person like that.” “I don't agree with you, sir. There is no reason why lie should refuse a chance to make a sum like two thoifsand, and Mr Dreever’s money is, I suppose, as good as anyone else’s.” “That is a matter of opinion,” said the philanthropist. “Decidedly a matter of opinion.” “Well, that’s how the matter stands, sir. My client- will hand over the deeds to-morrow and finish the business.” Sir Richard Preston walked to the door of the little office and looked out into the street. As lie gazed, a young ex-service man limped by an ! gave him a military salute. The generous patron returned it with a smile of recognition, stood for a moment or two wearing a thoughtful frown, then faced the solicitor once more. “I’ll pay the l.cn. thousand," lie

growled. "I can’t disappoint those boys. And sooner than let that devil have It I’ll make your client a gift of the extra two thousand I” The transoation was concluded next day, but Sir Richard felt that he had been deliberately robbed by Martin •Dreever. His shrewd suspicion was correct, except that the solicitor concerned received £SOO of the sum. The actual vendor was paid the original price of £BOOO, less numerous law charges, and the balance of the extra £2OOO went Into the capacious pocket of Martin Dreever. In all his monetary transactions the crafty usurer always stood to win. If the solicitor had refused to conspire with him in this instance he would have offered £IO,OOO for the property, thus still gaining his object. The threat of this action and the promise of £SOO bought the pettifogger’s services with little, if any, risk. Had Sir Richard Preston refused to pay the enhanced price the property would have been acquired by Dreever for £BOOO and a gift of £SOO to his accomplice. In that event the extortioner would have let the land, as intended by Sir Richard, and lent money to the settlers for the development of the estate at a high rate of interest. Then, after the .men had made their homes there and become sufficiently involved in their transactions with him he would Increase the rent under a threat of expulsion, and confiscation of their property for debt. Had they but known it, the tenants of the land were indebted to the generosity and public spirit of Sir Richard Preston for their escape from a position which would have made their lives a hell. The philanthropist seriously thought at one time of punishing Dreever in some way for his despicable action, but lack of any legal method of doing this ruled out the project as impracticable. . Jack Preston, studying law and hoping' one day to be called to the Bar and have chambers in the Temple, tried hard to bring'the miser to book, but found that his father had not “a leg to stand on.” As though in defiance,. Martin Dreever became more aggressively opulent than ever in appearance, but his influence in Marshfield was on the wane. By some means of other people began to have their suspicions of the manner in which he had acquired his wealth, and after a time he began to feel the effects of the freezing, and was seen with less frequency in the streets of. the little town. Martin Dreever, however, did not confine his business and social activities to the neighbourhood of Marshfield. He had a large clientele in London and in higher circles than those in which he formerly carried on his profession. (To be continued).