MYSTERY AT MANBY HOUSE

Waikato Times, Volume 128, Issue 21364, 7 March 1941, Page 3

MYSTERY AT MANBY HOUSE

By PETER MANTON

j CHAPTER IX.—(Continued) | “ I always do. Clark doesn’t j seem to think much of the situation.” ■ “I've just been wondering how we could manage the impossible,” smiled Bill. “Now, if your wife , was here she would probably be able I to make some suggestions.” j Horn chuckled. ! “Even this would beat Mary, I j think. We're stuck for a day or so. j The hills are too steep round and | about lor them to get a snowplough up. Lucky we’re well provisioned.” j “That’s a minor point,” said Bill ; grimly. “We’ve got to get busy, | and ” I “We can’t.” Horn was a little j worried, and obviously he was as , concerned as the other man about j their plight. “Well, breakfast might help us. I looked into the kitchen | just now to make sure they were all in good order, and the hysteria seems to have gone. The girl Keller : nearly strangled is seeing herself as . a heroine, and the others are telling ■ her how wonderful she is.” Horn grinned. “Human nature’s resilient, tthank God! I hal-lo!” He broke off as the came to their cars for the first time. It was some distance off. but clear enough, and both men knew what i was. They went towards the window with one accord, and peered out. In the distance, they could see an aeroplane. The drone of its engines was com- ! ing louder every second, and it was heading i'or Manby House. In ail likelihood, of course, it would go Tight over it, yet both men had an odd feeling that this was somehow connected with the murders of bir Nicholas and Arthur Mann. “A small bus,” Horn said. “Look’s like a Blue Bird. Losing height, too.” "Probably come for a photograph,” said Horn, with an odd smile. “It’s a big thing that can stop the press these days, Bill. I—Good God!” He broke off with an exclamation, a'nd Bill Arden swallowed hard. For as they stared upwards and the small aeroplane grew nearer, they saw the little black bundle fall from it. “A message?” “It’s too big,” Horn said, with a quiver of excitement in his voice. “Look at it—there she goes! A parachute, Arden!” Bill was staring upwards, at the dark dot against the grey sky that had suddenly topped by something that billowed out, very white. The aeroplane was nearer than they had realised, and the parachute, with the man dandling on the end of it, was coming slightly towards the house, with the wind. The man would drop inside the grounds, probably a hundred yards from the house itself. He dropped with a bewildering speed at first, and then as the parachute opened, the progress was slower, and he swayed to and fro like a drunken man, arms and legs waving. Bill waited until the surprise arrival was within two hundred feet of the ground, and then swung round. “On the south side, thank heavens! there are no drifts there. Come on.” He jumped to the door, hurrying past a scared maid, who dropped the bedclothes she was carrying, and then found a smile as she saw who it was. When they reached the spacious hall of the house they saw the’miserable looking Draper. They ignored him, swung right along the passage leading to a side door opening on the south side of the house, unbolted it and hurried out. Less than the hundred yards away, the parachutist was dropping fast, no more than twelve feet from the level of the ground. The final fall seemed abrupt, and the man was lest to sight buried in the snow. The bag of the parachute fluttered and drooped. Bill pulled up short as he went six inches deep into the fine white powder. “The shoes, or we won’t make it.” “More haste less speed,” said Horn, with a grin that took the sting out of the platitude. “ They’ll be in the kitchen.” “ Where there’s another south door,” said Bill. They went along the passages quickly, reaching the kitchen and startling the cook, a stout, red-cheek-ed woman who looked her part to the life. Her hands were covered with flour which she was shredding over a few slices of fish, and they lifted towards the ceiling. “Well, well, it’s Master Bill!” “See you later,” smiled Bill, “find me the snow shoes, there’s an angel.” “They’ll be in the pantry, sir, the one we use as a store cupboard, that they will.” But Clark had already moved towards the pantry door, and in a few seconds the two men were equipped for the venture. It struck Bill Arden as particularly significant that even for a trip of a hundred yards they needed the shoes. It emphasised the completeness of their isolation. “You Know Him?” But the aeroplane and the daring jumper had proved that it was possible to get through. By now they could see the man, on his feet and waving. Near the ;ex her south door Sergeant Draper i was floundering through the snow, ] and getting in worse straits with i every yard. Bill was grinning as j he hurried towards the airman. The newcomer was knee deep in ■ the stuff, and when he saw the others moving with comparative ease, he stood and waited. More, took a cigarette case from his pocket, and lit a cigarette. Bill laughed. (To be continued daily)