HIDDER GOLD.

Waikato Times, Volume 121, Issue 20283, 27 August 1937, Page 3

HIDDER GOLD.

By STANLEY PORTAL HYATT.

SERIAL STORY.

BYNOPBIB. John Seton says good-bye to Jocelyn Drake prior to his embarkation for Africa, where he, as an engineer, Is to report on the prospects or the Mammoth copper | mine. Various cryptic warnings are | given to him before he sets out. There , seems to be some mystery about Williamson. the man who should have reported on the mine. At Machado, a village near the mine, Seton meets a stranger named Parker, who. It appears. Is fully acquainted with the nature or Seton’s business. Eventually there is a scene In a saloon I bar, where Seton thrashes Parker for as- | saultlng an old man called “ Mad Daddy j White.” Senhorlta Eunice Louveia, ! daughter of the Commandant of Machado, Is all powerful In the district. Her ac- 1 ttons suggest that she Is In league with | Parker. Seton soon discovers the mine to i be worthless, and sends a cablegram to ; this effect to England. A favourable mes- j sage, however. Is substituted In Its stead, ; as Seton learns some months later when ! h? returns to Machado to find a letter rroin Mrs Drake. She has speculated with her daughter’s money, and' lost It all In Mammoth shares. As there Is no letter from Jocelyn, Seton thinks she has believed the fraudulent messages to have been his own. He meets Daddy White again who gives him Information about the Mammoth mine which he says will make him rich. CHAPTER IX.—Continued. For a long time after Eunice Louveia had gone below Seton paced the deck, trying vainly to find a solution to these problems, and he, too, went down to ; his cabin, where for several hours he was busy with the contents of that little tin box. Just before dawn he returned to the deck with a sheaf of papers in his hand. ’He tore these up ! carefully, tossed the fragments over- j board, and watched the incoming tide sweep them towards the great man- j grove beds at the head of the bay. 1 After that, he lit a fresh cigar, and remained chatting to the quarter-master j on watch until sunrise. He was in no mood for turning in; | sleep seemed out of the question, yet J he wanted human companionship, any- I thing which would save him from his 1 own bitter thoughts. As soon as he saw the stewards about he went be- I low again and bathed, returning on ! deck Just as the vessel got under, weigh. It was still early, yet five minutes | later he came face to face with the ! senhorlta, who was looking extremely j handsome in a white costume. She : did not effect to be surprised at the meeting, hut gave a queer little laugh. ! “You ran away from "Machado in such a hurry, Mr Seton, that you for- ] got you were to have tea with me yesterday. So, you see, I had to follow you. In order to be able to give you tea on board.” The man flushed. It was no easy matter to combat her when she took up this bantering attitude. “I had to leave in a great hurry during the night," he answered awkwardly, but he volunteered no reason ! to account for his s idden departure. I “So did I have to leave in a hurry, j Strange It should have been the same ! with both of us." Her eyes were perfectly honest and fearless as she look- I ed at him. “I had a cable from Eng-| land saying that I must go back at j once to look into some matters con- ! nected with my mother’s estate. So I ordered a special.” Then, as always, 1 she Ignored her father; in fact, never once did Seton hear her mention that I rather disreputable old Portuguese j colonel of infantry. “I did not know that cables were j delivered during the night. It was the only thing Seton could think of j at the moment. Eunice laughed softly. “Mine are 1 because, you see, I’m the Senhorlta. i I hate the name, or the title, but it’s j useful.” Then she looked, at him j keenly. “Didn’t you get a cable then, ’ to make you start so suddenly, by a I horrid goods train, and miss your ap- I pointment'with me?” The man saw the mistake he had made and flushed; hut before he could think out a reply the breakfast bugle had sounded, and they went down to the dining saloon together. “There are very few passengers, and you are the only soul I know, so we | may as well sit together. The stewards , seem to have left us to choose our 1 own places.” The girl had an air of calm assurance, mingled with friendliness, which made any hesitation on the man’s part impossible. To his surprise, she led the way, not to tlie captain’s table, but to that presided over by the chief officer. “1 don’t, like this skipper,” she explained. ••Oli. I have travelled on the vessel before -but the chief is very nice. ij know you’ll be grateful to me later j “Of course I shall. I’ve got rea- I son to be so already.” The last! words might have meant anything, and she flashed a keen glance of half- 1 amused interrogation at him, but he ; had already made up his mind as to the attitude he intended to adopt, and

The other*passengers, of whom there were about twenty, consisted chiefly of stolid nrilish and German merchants with their wives, the total being made up by three or four young Englishmen, invalided home from the railway. Seton glanced at thorn wilh indifference. None of them was likely lo affect him in any way. The Inst, to enter the saloon was a tall, good-look-ing American, who had come off in the same tender as Seton. The newcomer paused a moment ns he caught sight of the senhorlta, who raised her eyebrows in surprise, then bowed <1 stoutly to him. Possibly he had thought of taking a seat at the chief officer’s fable: but if Hint were so he changed his mind quickly and crossed to the oilier side. Seton turned to his companion, who read the question in his eyes instantly. ••An American.” she answered. “Hurtis his name is. lie has been connected wilh some of the mines round Machado." “You seem to know most men In the country. Miss Louveia," Seton remarked. Tlie girl shrugged her shoulders. "Perhaps; hut I don’t like many of them.” After breakfast he followed her on deck. found her a deck-chair, placed it in a sheltered corner, and arranged her cushions. When he had finished.. • Where’s vour own chair?” she asked. “I wan! you to talk to me. [ seem to know you so well, and yet. really. I don’t know anything at all about vou.” The man smiled. “I’ve heard a great deal about you. though.” She loosed her head a littlo scornfullv. “1 daresay. Men are horrid gossips, and because 1 am half PortugUP«u Bui aren’t you going to

get your chair?” Her voice was almost ] Insistent. "I will be back in a few minutes,” he answered. “There’s one or two things i want lo see about. I shan’t ( be long." j There was a steward standing at i the end of the alley-way leading to Seton’s cabin. He was apparently busy cleaning a metal water jug, which , he dropped with a crash as the Englishman came down the companion ■ way. A moment later, the American | Curtis hurried out of Seton’s cabin, j “Why didn’t you tell me I was ■ wrong?” the American turned angrily i to the steward, who answered in j broken English that he didn’t know | yet who was in which berth; then, ; seeing iSeton about to enter, Curtis j became profuse in his apologies. “I really didn’t notice the number of my stateroom. I’m most awfully sorry if t invaded yours. I had only just entered.” Perhaps the last words seemed unnecessary; perhaps Seton was unduly suspicious of everyone; at any rate, he replied without any excess of cordiality. Once inside, he bolted the door, and a single glance served to confirm his suspicions. The tin box had been taken down from the shelf above his bunk, and replaced the other way up. A black look came into Seton’s eyes. : This man was one of the Machado j gang; the senhorlta admitted she knew him; and whilst he was attempting to steal the box, or Its contents, the girl had tried her best to keep the Engi lishman beside her, on deck. | It was nearly an hour before he rejoined Eunice, who received him with a smile. “With you, a few i minutes seems to mean a long while, 1 Mr Seton. Mr Curtis has been here, : boring me—he is a real bore, as you | will find out. And now go and fetch your chair.” I When he had settled himself down ! by her side she surveyed him critically, I “You don’t look as fit as you did the ! first time I met you,” she said at ’ length. “You’ve got an air of being j horribly worried over something or ; other.” < He laughed bitterly. Really, she | was going a little too far. “I am ! worried,” he answered. “Perhaps you ; can guess the reason?” I To his astonishment she gave a j quick little nod of sympathy. “Yes, i l can guess—that trick they played I you over the Mammoth. I know all ( about It, and I* did so want a chance I of telling you how it was done.” CHAPTER X. What Happened at Zanzibar. “I wanted to tell you all about the trick that was played you.” The senhorlta lay back in her deck-chair, j and watched keenly to see what the j effect of her words would be on John Seton. j The latter was staring away across j the water, apparently at an Arab dhow which was passing about a mile off. i It was a full half-minute before he ! even looked round. He had, so far 1 as he could see, the very best of rea- ! sons for detesting this woman. He j looked on her as the actual leader of his enemies, the head of that conspiracy which had robbed him not only of his reputation, but of his love as I well. -Every time she had crossed I his path something had gone wrong, ‘ some attempt had been made against him. Her very friendliness had. served i but to deepen his suspicions; yet now j she was proposing to betray her con- | federates. It was so improbable that she would do so that he decided al I once to disbelieve every word she j might say; then he turned to her with I a slight smile on his face. | “It is very kind of you,” he said quietly. “It is pleasant to learn that one person, at least, does not believe I gave a false report.” She looked, him squarely In the eyes. “Of course I never believed you had done anything so mean. Naturally, 1 was very pleased at first ■ when I read the goqd reports of the 1 mine, because I was interested In it j and very anxious to see it started, but l afterwards, when the crash came, 1 was terribly upset.” lie saw the weak point In her statement at once. “How did you know that the cable they published was not mine?” he asked. The senhorlta flushed. “I knew It couldn’t he as soon as I found that what was In it wasn’t true.” j The answer failed to convince him, j but he did not interrupt again, and she went on: “J- wanted lo find out, so I managed to get, into the telegraph office, and searched through the file, i I soon found the original message, and i it. wasn’t in your handwriting. I took : It away with me, and, only two days

later, that part of the telegraph office was burnt down.”

He looked at her keenly. “In whose writing was It?”

There was no hint of hesitation In her voice when she answered. “1 don’t know, but tt wasn’t yours." “Where Is It? May I see It? So much depends on that.”

She made a hopeless little gesture “I haven’t got It. Someone stole it from me.”

Seton bit his lips; he had given her credit for being a better liar and a better actress. The story was very clumsy. How could she know It was a forgery when- she had never seen his handwriting, unless she know the handwriting of the actual forger? In any case, she must be telling an untruth. Why, too, should anyone have troubled to steal the slip ol paper, when, according to her, the guilty person Imagined ho had destroyed all the evidence by burning down the telegraph office? No, the whole tiling was a foolish and futile attempt to win his gratitude by telling him just what any man in his position might have guessed already, and withholding nil the essential facts. Still, lie did not allow his faco to betray his thoughts, and thanked her gravely. “It was most kind of you to take such an Interest in me, but, still, I am afraid it Is too late to get back my reputation and the other tilings I have lost.’’ “Aren’t you going to try? Surely you will.” Her voice was almost eager. lie shook his head. “No. I’m going to start afresh at something else.” “Ah!” It was impossible to tell what the exclamation meant, whether satisfaction at Ills decision, or scorn for 11is weakness; then suddenly: “What else have you lost?” she asked. (To be continued.)