GRAND SERIAL STORY. JUDGMENT.

Digger (Invercargill RSA), Issue 13, 11 June 1920, Page 5

GRAND SERIAL STORY. JUDGMENT.

The Most Amaiing Story Ever Penned.

f FOR NEW READERS. SIR JOHN MILLBANK, a successfuj, f but stern judge, quarrels with his on- ; " ly son, JACK, who leaves his father's house to fight his own way in the world; and whilst serving with the Australian ■ | contingent, under the name of Dick Foster, he meets, and falls in love , ; with KITTY, the adopted daughter of \Sir John. However, Sir John has argfe ranged for her marriage with LORD HAYERHAM. In a moment of ij despair, Kitty writes to Dick, asking him to ineet her in the Blue Room at Rivercourt Mansions. At the appointed hour, Lord Haverham goes to the Blue Room to write some letters, and, J? unbeknown to the guests, Sir John I meets him there. An altercation . t arises between the two men, resulting in the accident-al death of Lord Havyf erham. Later, Dick arrives in the $1 Blue Room, is caught and accused of K murder, and found' guilty. Whilst H passing the sentence of death, Sir WL John recogUises the prisoner as his ■ own son Jack ! A few days later, Sr Sir John interviews the prisoner at s his private residence under escort of j§ the warders, and tells him he will have to serve at least three years' imv prisonment. Just as they are leavmg, Dick with the assistance of Kitty i makes his escape, and that night they | decide to drive into Winnerleigh; but the car breaks down, and they are 1" forced to accept the hospitality of BEAUMONT CHASE, a millionaire. . The following morning, Dick's host informs him that Sir John had called & during the night and taken his daughter ■ away. Dick, believing this story, leaves that morning for' Winnerleigh. Kitty goes down to KreakM fast, and is: cross-examined by Mr ma* ~ Chase, but on his promise of assistjH' ance tells him the whole story. At a fabulous price Mr Chase engages the services of MR PELHAM WEBB, a clever but un- , scrupulous detective, to find Dick Foster, and extracts a promise from Kit- : ty not to attempt to see or write to T her lover until , a year has elapsed. Pelham Webb discovers Dick, and unbeknown to Beaumont Chase, takes 1 him to the latter's residence where -he is installed as gardener. Sir John and I Kitty arrive at Beaumont Hall, and Beaumont Chase loses no time in asking A Sir John for the hand of his daughter. Sir John consents. That afternoon Kitty receives news that the gardener is seriously injured. The concluding paragrapks of last week's instalment, reprinted to refresh reader's mepaories. The girl moved to his side and, stooping, kissed him. "I thank you now daddy dear. I am very grateful to you for all you have done and all you have tried to do for me. And now, if you don't mind, I'll take a stroll in the garden. It is a warm night." "Very well, my child, but put a wrap on, and don't go far. Chase may he back at any moment, and he will want to see you, I know." "Don't let him come after- me, daddy. I want to be alone. Life is very puzzling." She threw a silk scarf over her shoulders and as she reached the open window she turned her head and glanced back.

"I am going to look at the stars' daddy," she said, "and see if they have any message for me. ' ' And then with shining-eyes she wentout into the darkness. THE TREACHEROUS FQIEND. Pelham Webb was getting anxious. Much as he loved a double game, he was beginning to realise that such a game had peculiar perils. There was the danger of falling between two stools. His plan was as simple as it was bold, and if all went well, he would achieve the greatest and most profitahle triumph of his life. His intention was to deliver Dick Foster up to the police, and so win a worldwide r,eputation as the detective who had run to earth the daring murderer of Lord Haverham. At a bound he would be at ihe* very summit of his profession. On the other hand, he must keep faith with Mr Beaumont Chase, the most generous client he had ever worked for'. Fame was good, but money wa-s even better. Mr Chase was about to marry the young lady upon whom he had set his fancy. Until the ceremony had taken place, Dick Foster must not be arrested. The very existence of the young man in England must not be guessed at by anyone. Miss Millbank espeeially must be kept ai ignorance that he was here, close at hand, almost within sound of her voiee, At first Mr Webb found the double game both fascinating and easy, and then came the unfortunate accident which very neStly revealed the old garden er's identity. Since then Pelham Webb had been in a | state of suppressed nervous excitement. ) Nevertheless, he had taken all possible precautions to avert disaster. He had summoned a doctor from London whom he could trust, and he had contrived that no orie else should see the patient. He had persuaded Beaumont Chase to hasten on the wedding. Now at last he began to feel more at ease in his mind. The summer-house pavilion consisted ~- one long room with windows facing the south, and two tiny rooms at- either end. ItVas the big room in which the injured man was lying on a small cump-bedstead, and Pelham Webb now stood by the bedside. It was night, the windows were closely curtained, and the room was dimly lighted by a stable-lamp hanging from a beam across the roof.

The detective looked at his watcli, Nearly half-past nine.Then he took a telegram from his pocket and smiled as he read it over again. "Everything satisfactorily arranged. The affair takes place to-morrow afternoon at three. Returning late to-night. Will see you.— Chase." So the period of suspense was nearing its end. All danger of a catastrophe would be over in less than eighteen hours,' Mr Webb was already in communication with tlie authorities at Scotland Yard. To-morrow afternoon he would be able to hand over his inconvenient prisoner, and then in a happy and peaceful frame of mind call at the Hall to offer his congratulations to the newly wedded pair. "How do you feel now?" he asked as he looked down at the invalid. Dick Foster gazed up and smiled. "Oh, mueh better. A bit groggy, of course, but I shall be myself in a day or two. It is awfully good of you to take so much trouble." "Not at all. I've taken a fancy to you," replied the detective. "I am only

a private detective, and when Miss Millbank .engaged me to look after you and save you from arrest, I naturally "tried to eam my fees. But now I am mterested in you for your own sake, and if I can help you in any way, it will give me greai pleasuxe." "Yes, I know. You are a good sort, Webb. And now I want you to be frank with me as man to man. Youoftensee Miss Millbank?" "Yes." "And talk to her?" "Oh, yes!" "Does she ever mention me?", Pelham Webb hestiated, and seemed reluctant to reply. "You want me to be quite frank?" he sai-l at length. "Indeed, I do, as 'man to man," said Dick ealrnestly. "Well, honestly, lad, not so much now as she used to," replied Webb, with wellfeigned reluctance. "You see, she is very young, and she is having a pleasant time down here, and there is a good deal to occupy her thoughts. I doh't mean she has forgotten you. Not at all. She Still nas a kindly feeling towards you, I'm sure." "A kindly feeling?" Dick Foster repeated the words slowly, anJ his lips twisted into a wry smile. If that's true, it's all for the best," he said, after a pause. "Of course, she will have to forget me, and the sooner the better ; but — but I didn't think it would be so soon." He was silent or a while, and then added with sudden impetuosity : "And I don't believe it now!" The detective looked at him shrewdly. His disguise had been removed, and with his fair curly hair and handsome bo'yish f-ace, he bore very little resemblance to the feeble Daddy Clark who for the past few weeks had pottered about the gardenr.- of Beaumont Hall. "Young girls are changeable," ventured Webb, "and you could hardly expect — " "Ali, but- you don't know Kitty!" interposed the young man vehemently. "She is a girl in a million. She is true as steel. And I'll tell you what I mean to do, Webb." He raised himself, and he was leaning on his eljiow, and looking up very solemnly into the de'tective's keen, attentive face "You think it best for me to leave here?" he went on. j "Yes, I do. Otherwise I cannot guarantee your- safety. I have friends who will hide you, and you must ga to them." i "Soon?" | "Yes, very soon. Perhaps to-morrow if yo i feel fit to travel. " "Ah, very well. I a.m agreeable, I place myself in your hands. You are my friend, and I know you will advise me f.u- the best-. . I will go where you like md whpn you like, but before I go there is one thing I mean to do." ! "And what is that?" inquired Webb softly. ! "I mean to see Kitty," replied Dick bluntly. "I mean to see her, and reveal myself to her, and talk to her. It will j be our last talk together, our last meeting, , but I shall look back to it all my life, and ( so will she. I know her, you see, and you don't. She is brave, and she won't break , down. We can give one another Jup, but | We've got to say good-bye. I left her withj but a word. Well, we'll have our word now."

"Now?" "To-night or to-morrow night. if you cin't arrange it — s — " | "Oh, but I think I can," interposed i Webb hurriedly. "Not to-night, but tomorrow night, if you are really determinI ed about it. I will get Miss Millbank to come here. It will be quite easy. .And i by that time, my young friend," he added , to himself, "you will be on your way i to London in charge of a couple of officers j from Scotland Yard." ] Dick Foster held out his hand impulsively. "Webb, you are splendid!" he exclaimed, with tears in his eyes. "How can I eve thank you?" OUTSIDE; THE PAVILION. Once out of the house Kitty spedv swiftly across the lawn and darted in arnong the laurels on the farther side. The night was dark, but she knew her way quite well, and very soon she saw the lowroofpd pavilion black against the sky. As she drew near a certain nervousness overcame her, and all sorts of doubts sprang up in her mind. (Continued on Page Six.)

judg1vient. %

(Continued from pa ge five.) She almost held her breath as she | leadhed the buildings and, keepiiig close / ti) tbe walls, crept round to the back, She was now on the south side, and she looked anxiously at the three dark windows. Nc gleam of light came from any of tbsm, the curtains inside being closelv drawn. But as she drew near she perceived that tiie cent-re window was open at the top. What ought she do? Should she wait unt'l the murmuring voices ceased, and then tap at the window? She stood upon the low wmdow-ledge, and raised her head to the opening at the top of the window, hoping to catch some word that was spoken within, or at least to recognise the voices. "I will get Miss Millbank to come here, It will be quite easy. " Her heart bounded within her, and she almost cried out ; but at that moment she was startled by a sound behind her. The night was very hot and still with not a breath of air stirring( and the sonnd fel! upon her ears with startling cfrstinctriess. I:' was the noise of rustling in the bushes. Swiftly she turned and slipped down to the ground. At the same instant the figure of a man leaped at her through the darkness, and flung his arms about her, holding Eer fast. "Who are you, young woman?" said a hnrsh voice in her ear. "And what are you doing sneaking about my garden at this time of the night?" Desperately Kitty struggled to release lierself. "Let me go?" she panted. "No fear!" came the grim reply. "Not tid I haye a look at you. Keep still till - get a light." (To be Continued.)