THE BLACK PILGRIM

Waikato Times, Volume 124, Issue 20727, 10 February 1939, Page 3

THE BLACK PILGRIM

By George Stanley

STORY Vl. (Continued) “I have a flat next door to the charming Marie,” said The Black Pilgrim. ‘‘l took it some months back to keep my eye on her. I have several microphones concealed in her rooms and I listened-in to the plan of campaign. Your danger will not start yet. You have to see your solicitors; answer their questions; your claim has to be formally lodged, and they have to take over your papers \to satisfy themselves that all is in order Then, the trouble will begin. Georgi.f. will want to be your representative, and you will be required to sign papers at his request. If you don't, they will get you away from London and, down in some secluded country house you will be persuaded until you do sign. The best thing is for you to agree to everything and sign the power of attorney for Georges. He will not keep it long. If you agree ■with all their schemes we shall be able to meet, and my plan can be developed. There may be risks, but you will have to take them. What do you say?” “Say?” answered the girl. “Nobody is going to treat me like this without me having something to say in the matter. Besides, you can always die fighting! I’ve been fighting now for so long it’s almost become second nature. Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it. 1 hope it doesn't need a lot If money. I've only got five pounds!” “I've thought of that,” replied The Black Pilgrim. “I think I can safely lend the heiress of millions a few pounds. Here are twenty pounds; you can say that you've saved it if anyone asks you. Now to business. We haven't got long.” He outlined his plan of campaign to her, and when he had finished she smiled. “It sounds thrilling,” she said. “I’ve only got to remember your telephone number, really I” “That’s all it amounts to,” replied The Black Pilgrim. “You need not worry, I shall be near at hand.” “I shan’t worry,” answered the girl. “Somehow you strike me as a very reliable person.” i “You'll find I am, I hope,” replied her visitor. “Now, I must go, because your caller will be here soon.” He opened the door of the room and, after a quick glance along the passage, hurried out, closing the door behind him. No sooner-had he gone than doubts began to assail Mary Marne, but the feel of the money which The Black Pilgrim had given her, made her realise that there must be some truth in his story. Further proof was soon to follow, for after Mary had prepared and eaten her evening meal, the smirking landlady knocked upon her door. "There’s a gentleman to see you, Miss,” she said. “From some solicitors so I gather, with good news he says. You can use my sitting-room, my He's such a nice gentleman, too.” Mary closed the door, and, following her voluable companion down the stairs into the sitting-room, found a tall, fair-haired man whose tiny waxed moustache showed up rather peculiarly against his pale face. He turned as Mary entered the room, and smiled at her. "You are Miss Mary Manders?” he asked. “Well, I have some good news for you. You have given us a lot of trouble to find you, Miss Manders. I'm a representative of this firm.” He handed her a business card which bore a high sounding series of names, with a designation "Solicitors” beneath them. “I have much pleasure in informing you. Miss —er —Manders, that you appear to be the heiress to a considerable fortune, left by your mother’s brother, Albert David Manders. Of course, you will have to produce proofs of your identity, which will probably be an easy matter. Have you any such proofs?” “Yes,” answered Mary, entering into her part. “Why, it seems almost impossible! I thought that Uncle Albert had died years ago. He went to America, I remember now, and I believe he had something to do with oil.’/ “That’s quite right,” answered her visitor. “Now, can you show me the proofs of your identity, then I can set things moving! I don’t want to take them away from you,” he added, hastily, “you will have to produce them yourself to the head of the firm. You see, the American solicitors to your uncle's estate will be dealing with things, and we shall be acting here for you as your representative. “I see,” answered Mary, still registering astonishment. “I’ll get my letters and things, if you’ll wait here, Mr , 1 don't know your name?” “George Bennett,” replied the stranger, with a winning smile. He opened the door for Mary to leave the room with too effusive an air of politeness, and she hurried up the stairs. Bearing in mind what The Black Pilgrim had told her, she took the little box containing her treasured possessions, and returned to her visitor. His eyes gleamed as she threw back the lid of the box and began to hand to him the various letters, photo-

A story of a modern Robin Hood.

graphs and certificate of birth which he required, with almost child-like trust. He scanned the documents which she gave him and, at the finish, nodded his head in satisfaction. "Not the shadow of a doubt,” he said. “Miss Mary Marne—you will h*v» to use your own name, you know •4 must congratulate you. I darel n>u are excited to know the | .rcwmut of your uncle's fortune. Weil, '! uiy a«r lady, it amounts to over a I Miillion —pounds !” ! “A million pounds!” gasped Mary. ‘ "Whatever shall I do with all that money?” "You'll find uses for it, I expect," replied ‘George Bennett.’ “Now, you can’t stay in this terrible place. You must leave here at once. Just pack your personal things to take with you, and the others can be sent on. I will settle with your landlady. Now you can go to an hotel or—how would you like to stop with my sister for a day or two—until you make up your mind what you would like to do ? You'll want to buy dresses and things, and Marie—my sister —loves to help people to spend money. Of course, if you’d rather go to an hotel, do so, my dear lady, by all means.” “Well, it's very nice' of you, but shan't I be putting your sister to a lot of trouble?” “As a matter of fact, my sister suggested the arrangement,” answered Bennett. “We have been searching for you—that is, the firm has—and Marie has been taking a great interest in the search. When she heard that you had at last been found, she insisted on me persuading you to join her.” "Then, in that case, I can't refuse. I'll go and get my things ready. Perhaps you’ll look after that case for me, Mr Bennett.” “Certainly,” replied Bennett. “Leave it with me.” Mary gathered her few things together and, leaving the remainder to be collected, entered the taxi which was at the door. She arrived at the flat of George Bennett’s sister, and the fair Marie welcomed her with more than open arms, f The next two days passed in a whirl of shopping and business visits, during which Mary was allowed to pay for nothing. But she was relieved on several occasions to observe The Black Pilgrim near at hand. Once he even waved. On the morning of the third, George Bennett arrived with an air of importance, and produced a document for Mary to sign. She scanned it before signing, and in the hopes that The Black Pilgrim might be listening, said loudly; “I know what this is! This is what they call a 'Power of Attorney.’ It is nice of you, Mr Bennett, to take all my troubles off my shoulders.” She signed the document and George Bennett placed it in., his pocket .-and hurried away to his one-roomed office. He gained the door, inserted his key, and was about to enter, when to his horror something hard was rammed into his back, and a voice growled; “Keep moving or I’ll blow you apart 1” He continued into the office, heard the door close, and then turned to stare at the masked face of the man behind him. “You see the silencer cn this gun!” growied the man. “Then behave nourself. Now si*, down there. Stick your hands up!” George Bennett sat as he was directed, and in a few minutes his feet and hands had been lashed to his chair. His assailant flung a cloth over his head, and proceeded to search his pockets. Then, naving done this, he whipped off the cloth and released his prisoner’s right hand. “Pick up that pen,” he snarled. "Now write on this paper just there the name of that girl Mary Marne you’re trying to crook—l'm coming in on that. Get busy! Now write the name again on this paper!” Fearful of the threat of the automatic, Bennett wrote as he was directed. Then the cloth was whipped over his head again. “You stop there 1” growled the stranger. “I want a ‘cut’ out of this girl’s two millions. You’ll find out how when you’ve got her money. It won't take you long to shake yourself loose.” George Bennett heard the man’s footsteps across the room, heard the door of the office shut, then he began to struggle. After an hour of frantic effort he managed to free himself and his first thought was for the Power of Attorney. To his relief he found it lying on the floor where it had been flung. His next impulse was to seize the telephone and report the news to his confederate. “Someone is going to blackmail us, eh?” scoffed Marie. “We’ll get along to the bank and draw some of her money at once. Then we’ll clear down into Surrey with the girl. Wait for me at the bank.” She cursed in gutter-French when she found that Mary Marne was not in the flat, but left instructions before she hurried away to join George Bennett. Under her watchful eye he entered the manager’s office, and producing the Power of Attorney, stated his intention of drawing a cheque for ten thousand pounds on Miss Mary Marne’s behalf. He drew the cheque, received the money, and left, accompanied by the J fair Marie. “Give me the money!” snapped I Marie, as soon as they were outside. 1 It was unfortunate for her that she

had taken the notes, for they had barely walked a few yards when a big man blocked their path. “George Bennett and Marie Gouchatt, I think?” he said, quietly. “I must ask you to come back to the bank. I'm Detective-Inspector Greames of The Yard.” For a moment the two hesitated, but the two men who had materialised beside them, prevented any possibility of escape. “We have had you under observation, Bennett,” said the Inspector, when the two had been searched. “This Power of Attorney—you forged the name of Miss Mary Marne to it. A cheque, with the signature also forged by you, was presented this morning.” “It’s a ‘plant'!” snarled Bennett, but when the forged cheque and the Power of Attorney were placed before him, his mind flew back to the masked stranger and the two signatures which lie had been compelled to write. lie was still swearing vengeance when he left the dock to serve his sentence, *but Marie Gouchatt. who saw him go. wished that she was in the same position, for the extradition order, which had been granted, held terrors for her which no threat of prison could have evoked. Another Episode To-morrow.