GRAND SERIAL STORY. JUDGMENT.

Digger (Invercargill RSA), Issue 20, 30 July 1920, Page 5

GRAND SERIAL STORY. JUDGMENT.

H The EVfost Amazirsg Story Ever 3$ Penned. m

FOR NEW READERS. , — SIR JOHN MILLBANK, a successful, but stern judge, quarrels with his only 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 arranged for her marriage with LORD HAVERHAM. In a moment of despair, Kitty writes to Dick, asking hira to raeet her in the Blue Room at Rivercourt Mansions. At the appointed hour, Lord Haverham goes to ths Blue Room to write some letters, and, unbeknown t,o the guests, Sir John meets him there. An altercation aiises between the two men, resulting in the accidental death of Lord HavK erbam.. Later, Dick arrives in the Blue Room, is caug'nt and accused of murder, and found guilty. Whilst passing the sentence of death, Sir John recognises the prisoner as his I own son Jack! A few days later, Sir John interviews the prisoner at | his private residence under escort of B the warders, and teils him he will have to serve at least three years' im- |! prisonment. Just as they are leavmg, Dick with the assistance of Kitty makes his escape, and that night they decide to drive into Winnerleigh ; but tho car breaks down, and they are | forced to accept the hospitality of BEAUMONT CIIASE, a millionaire. | The following morning, Dick's host in- J fonns him that Sir John had called | during the night and taken his daugh- | ter away. Dick, believing this | story, leaves that morning for Win- i nerleigh. Kitty goes down to break- : fast, and is cross-examined by Mr j Chase, but on his promise of assist- i anee tells him the whole story. At j a fabulous price Mr Chase engages j the services of ^ ijR PELHAM WEBB, a clever but unscrupulous detective, to find Dick Foster, and extracts a promise from Kitty not to attempt to see or write to her lover until a year has elapsed. Pelham Webb discovers Dick, and unbeknown to Beaumont Chase, takes i him to the latter's residence where he is installed as gardener. Sir John and Kitty arrive at Beaumont Hall, and Beaumont Chase loses no time in asking \ Sir John for the hand o'f his daughter. '■ Sir John consents. That aftemoon ' Kitty receives news that the gardener i is seriously injured. ^The concluding paragraphs of last week's instalnient, reprinted to refresh reader's memories. Beaumont Chase remained seriously thoughtful for a while. Then he smiled again. ^ hook here, Mr Jole," he said quietly, am a P'a'n nian, and I always put my cards on the table, face upwards. For reasons of my own, I want to get a hold |||'ei Sir John Millank. You have c.eilain «®cun)ent>, certain eA'idence you have col■gcted. J hat evidence now appears to be 7 ort Uess. S0 it is to you. You can't nght a man like Miilbank. He is too big f.r.'V'JU- btill, you have certain evidence 1 cJl aPPears to incriminate him."

II have evidence which, if properly used, will hang him!" cried Jole. ^ "Good! What do you want for it?" TWO ROGUES MAKE A DEAL. Into the cold and colourless eyos of Mr Jacob Jole there earne an eag,er light, and h's puffy, fleshy face assumed an expression of indescribahle cuiining. A moment ugo he was beaten and hum- ; iliated. Now he saw a chance of snatchin.g victory out of the very jaws of d'efeat, or, at the very worst, of saving something from the wreck. He made a few rapid inental calculations before he spoke. "You are a rieh man, Mr Chase," he I said at length. j "Yes; I have a great deal of money. 1 Everyone knows that," replied the mil* i lionaire frankly. I "The .evidence I have accumulated lias I cost me a great deal oi trouble and a great : | deal of expense- " began Jole cautious- • ly. when the other cut him short. ; "Suppose we disp'ense with prelimin- | aries," obs.erved Beaumont Chase, in the . languid tone of one wlio is rather bored. "I never bargain ; 1 cannot afford the time. When I want a thing. I make an offer for it — a generous offer. If the other man won't sell, I ctismi.£% the malter from | my mind. I am goin.g to make you an | offer. You cari take it or leave it. But j first I must know the' quality of th.e goods , you have to sell. Tell me, what reason ! have v'ou for thiuking that Sir John MiJl1 . . bank liad anything to do with the death of Lord Haverham?" •"If I tell you that I shall give away my whole ease," said tiie other cunningly. "Why not?" retorted the millionaire ccolly. "Tell me what you know, and 1 wi.il pay you according to the value of yonr information." "I have only your word for that. Why siiould I trust you?" "Because you can't do anything else. You know very well you can't fight Judge Miilbank. He knows the game a jolly sight better tlran you do. Besid,e.s, he is one of His Majesty's judges, and you are just a sharp solicitor with a doubtful reputation. Pardon me, but we ar-e talking business, and wc want to get at the facts: I am concealing nothing. I want to get a hold on Sir John Miilbank. You sav you have information which would .enable me to do that. Give me the information, and I will pay you well." "What do you mean by 'well'?" "Two thousand pounds." Jacob Jole's eves glistened, but not otherwise did he betray his satisfaction. "Not enough," he said shortly. "It is my offer," replied the millionaire, anc! then he yawned. i Mr Jacob Jole rose, buttoned up his > coat. "Very well! I'm sorry, but there's nothing doing!" he said emphatically. j At the same time he strode briskly to- ; wards the door. On reaching it, however he glanced back swiftly over his shoulder. j Mr Beaumont Chase was lighting an other cigarette. Mr Jacob Jole shrugged His shoulclers, and, returning, dropped into his chair again. "All right," he said, with a short laugh. 1 accept. Ready cash, of course?" "My cheque." "I suppose that will have to do, but I am relying absolutely on your honour." A faint smile played about the millionaire's mouth. [ "That is so," he answer.ed coolly. "Now, 1 what do you know? What have you found out? You did not make that charge against Miilbank without having something up your sleeve. What is it?"

"If I satisfy you that the judge was in some way concerned in the death of Lord Haverham, you will pay me two thousand pounds? Is that it? "Yes." You don't want proof that would satisfy a court of law?" No ; satisfy me, and you get the money." "\ ery well; that's a bargain. On the j uight of August 13th last, nearly a year ago, the late Lord Haverham gave a din-ner-party at his country house, Rivercourt. During the evening, after dinner, Lord Haverham r,etired to write some letters. He went to a room known as the Blue Room. Half an hour later a servant lieard a sound like the opening of a window, and went to the room. He fcund his inaster dead on the floor and a man escaping by the window. He gave the alarm, and the man was caught in the grounds. That man was Richard Foster. He was brought to trial before Judge Miilbank himself, and found guilty. The judge broke down at the trial. Briefly, those are the facts?" "Yes." "Now, you agree with me that Foster did not commit the murder?" "Yes; I am now convinced he is innocent." Jacob Jole nodded. "I came to that conclusion shortly after tH 2 trial. Miilbank sent for me, and showed a most unusual interest in the case. It was clear to me that he wanted to save the cor.demned man, if possible. Then Foster eseaped, no doubt by the connivance of the judge, "and we now find liim concealed here." "Yes, but what made you first suppose "I am coming to that. At my first interview with Miilbank he treated me badly, and I began to make inquiries. I wanted to get my own back, you understand. I knevv there was some mystery about the whole affair, and I made it my business to find out what it was. With a lot of trouble — and expense — I found out .exactly what had happened on the night of the murder. I have here the sworn statements of servants and guests, but first I'j, give yon the facts in outline. Sir Jolm Miilbank for some time had b.een arraiiging a marriage between his adopted daughter and Lord Haverham. It was all fixed up, when Sir John discovered that Haverham, was making advances to a j wealthy widow. He discovered this on the very day of the dinner party." "You are sure of this?" "Oh. yes; I can produce the widow." Well, go on." "Sir Jolm was determined to have an understanding, but Haverham avoided oe. ing alone with him, and after dinner— at exactly twenty mniut.es to nine, it was— his lordship slipped away on the excuse of writting letters. The rest of the company remained in the drawing-room. >->J.r John Miilbank only remained there, however, for a few minutes. Then he went out into the garden to smoke a cigar. It was one of his own cigars, a- special and rather peculiar brand. He was absent nearly half an hour. A few minutes ter his retuni the murder was dis-cov-cr.ed. " "And you suggest " "1 will make my suggestion later. For the present I am gi ving you facts. Y ou w'll remember 1 conducted the defence of Foster. Well, Lord Haverham was found dead. On the floor, close to the body, was a half-smoked cigar. No importance was attached to this at the time. It was supposed merely that Lord Haverham had beer smoking when he rnet his death." "Which is possible." "Of course; but I have since discovered that Lord Haverham did not smoke cigars. have also discovered that the half-smoked c-igai was that peculiar and special brand favoured by Sir John Miilbank." He paus.ed, and for a moment neither spoke. Then Beaumont Chase said quietly. "YTou can support all this by evidence?" "Every word of it." "Your theory then is " "My theory is that Sir Jolm during his absence from the drawing-room went to !Le Blue Room, determined to come to an understanding about the wealthy window The two men quarrelled. They came .to blows, and Haverham was killed, probably by accident. Miilbank returned to the other guests. Then Foster arrfved. He had an appointment to meet Miss Kitty MiUbank in this very room " (Continued on page 6.)

JUDGfVIENT. (Continued from page five. )

"You know that for a fact." "I have Miss Millbank's letter making the appointment. Fostcr, who is a ehivalrous young fool, would not save himself by giving ihe girl away. Hence his convietion. It is all clear, It all fits in like the parts of a Cbinese puzzle." Ihe mil lionaire nodded. "It is plausible," he said shortly. "Let me see the documents." Jacob Jole produced the bundle oi papers once more from his pocket, and for an hour or more the two men sat poring ovei them. Suddenly Beaumont Chase rose to his feet, and, gathering up the papers, slipped them into his pocket. Then he crossed the room, seated himseif at a desk, and wrote out a cheque for two thousand pounds. "There you are, Mr Jole," he said, holding out the slip of paper. "And now, -i you don't mind, I would like you to go. - am sorry I cannot put you up." Mr Jole made no protest, but, having examined the cheque closely, put it carefully in his pocket, and took his departure. When he was alone, Beaumont Chase rang a bell, and his confidential servant, Mr Underwood, appeared. "Has Miss Millbank retired, do you know?" asked the millionaire. "1 think not, sir." . "Please tell her I should like to see her here for a few moments, on very urgent business. ' 1 Fully ten minutes elapsed, during which Beaumont Chase, buriea in a big armchair, examined again the papers he had purchased from Jacob Jole. Then at Iast the door opened once more, an 1 Kitty appeared. "You wish to see me?" she said coldly. Beaumont Chase at once sprang to his feet, but he did not advance towards her. "Yes," he said quietly. "I have sometbing to tell you, something you ought to know. I will ask you to listen patiently to my story, and to examine the evidence of its truth which I shall place before you. When you have done that, I shall make a proposal, which you will answer by a . simple 'Yes' or 'No.' " He pointed to a chair, as he spoke, and then quickly closed the door. It was fully an hour later when Kitty emerged alone from the room. She was deathly pale, her eyes wero wide open, and in their depths was a look of indescribable horror. She was met by her maid, who gazed at her drawn, white face in dismay. "Oh, miss! You are ill !". "No, Julie," replied Kitty, in a strained unnatural voice. "I a.m quite well, quite well. The-re is nothing the matter — nothing. Would you care to travel, Julie?" -o travel, Miss?" "Yes. To-morrow I am going abroad." "Abroad? To-morrow?" Kitty was standing rigid, staring in front of her with big, unseeing eyes. "Yes," she said slowly ; "on my honeymoon. Didn't- you know? To-mor-row, I am going to be married!" (To be continued).