READ THIS STORY, YOU WILL LIKE IT. A Srap of Paper

Digger (Invercargill RSA), Issue 25, 3 September 1920, Page 2

READ THIS STORY, YOU WILL LIKE IT. A Srap of Paper

Billy Maitland was feeling particnlajrly happy. It was the first day of his holiday, and the prospect of three weeks' freedom from the cares and worries of business made him feel so light-hearted that he was fain t-o burst into song. Unfortxmately, his singing voice was of the kind that attracted unweleome attention — people were wont to inquire if he was in pain — so he repressed the impulse. j Billy Maitland was twenty-three. He had blue eyes and sandy hair. At the moment of which we are writing, he was striding jauntily along the platform at Waterloo, with a smile on liis face and a suit-case in his hand. The train was not full. He selected a compartment at random, and got in. He had scarcely deposited his suit-ease on the rack, when the door opened and two ladies entered the earriage. The first w as an elderly woman in black, stern-looking, sour-visagcd, and spectaeled. To her his eye gave scant attention. A glance was enough to cause him to divert his eye hastily to her companion. Maitland almost gasped. Without doubt she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Age — well, eighteen or thereabouts. Fair hair, like gleaming silb, a perfect, scarlet mouth, and a complexion, he considered, comparable to the bloom on a peach — only better. The elderly woman was clearly a dragon, probahly an aunt. She looked a woman of character, too. Her mouth gave one the impression that it could, when oceasion demanded give voice to remarks of considerable acidity. As his gaze transferred itself again to the girl, their eyes met for the fraction of a second, and Maitland felt his heart pounding against his ribs like a foree-pump working overtime. Yet, as he covertly regarded her over the edge of a newspaper, which he was pretending to read, he noted tnat there was a look of deep sadness in her eyes. She was a little pale, too, and there clung to her an indefinable air of dejection. That she was suffering from some unhappiness, or sorrow, Maitland was convinced. And soon he hegan to feel dejected himself, in silent sympathy. Unreasonably, he began to cherish a smouldering indigna-t-ion towards the dragon, who remained expressionless, eold, supercilious. Deep in his thoughts, Maitland drew his case from his pocket, carefully selected a cigarette, and tapped it pensively on the back of his hand before putting it in his mouth. He was about to strike a match when the sound of a voice arrested him. "Young man!" (It was the dragon, of course,, speaking). "This is not a smoking earriage ! ' ' Maitland coloured slightly, and, muttering an apology, abandoned his incendiary intentions. "I'm awfully sorry!" he repeated. "I

quite forgot" No answer. "Thames very much for remindiug me," he added, clutching at the fleeting opportunity of gelting into conversation with his fellow travellers. Deep silence. Maitland cast one last beseeching giance at the dragon, but the latter appeared to be deeply absorbed in the landscape that was fiashing past the window at Eer side. The girl, he noticed, presently opened a small attacho case she was carrying and extracted a writing-pad. Using the case as a rest, she began to write. Before long, the dragon addressecl a question to the girl in an undertone. Maitland did not hear the words, but the girl nodded, and then he saw her colour slightly. The train, which was a fast one, sped rapidly into the country, until at last it drew up at tlie little station of Asher. As it slowed down, Maitland saw his companions hastily gather their belongings together With a wrench, he realised that the girl was going to get out and pass out of h.ig life altogether. When the train stopped, the two alighted. Maitland's eyes followed the girl in ari ardent gaze. To his great joy, she glanced wist.fully back at him before she disappeared from view. It was nothing, merely an exchange of looks, yet how thrilling. Tlien a curious thing occurrod.

Maitland'^ gaze fell to the earriage fioor, attracted by a white object reposing there. It was a piece of writing-paper. The girl must have dropped it. He sprang to his feet and picked it up. His immediate impulse was to run after her, to restore the paper to her. Then, i n volun tar i ' y , he glanced at the writing. At that moment the porters were slamming the earriage doors. The guard blew his whistle. The engine gaveapreparatory snort, Then the train began to glide forward, But Maitland stood transfixed, his staring eyes focussed upon the paper in his trembling hands. In a large, bold, ieminine hand, he read the following words : "Dear Friend, — I am in terrible danger. Every moment my life is threatened, and, if help is not quickly fortheoming, 1 am condemned to die. Unless you aid me, I am without a friend in the world. 1 am in the clutches of a gang of desperate ecoundrels, who will stick at nothing. So, although I seek your help on my behalf, I I feel I must warn you to turn back if you are afraid of risking your life. If, on the other hand, you are prepared to take the risks, please do be cautious. In

retum, I can offer 110 reward other than friendship and esteem, for I am both poor j and friendless. But something tells me I can trust you and rely upon your help. You seein so strong and brave and good. Else I would die rather than make this despairing appeal? Wi.ll you. try to help me? '"Blue Eyes." "Will I try to help her!" repeated Maitland, in a ringing voice, adding resolutelv, "1 will move Heaven and earth to save her!" And then, moved by a sudden emotion that sometimes makes even big, strong, silent men do things they are sorry for afterwards. Maitland kissed the scrap of paper tenderly. "My little Blue Eyes!" he murmured, in rapturcus accents. But the train, of course, had meanwhile gathered speed, and, when Maitland frantically sprang to the earriage door, the little station of Asher was fast receding into tlie distance, II. The next station to Asher was Wilford, | a matter of half an hour's run. To Maitland it seemed like months. He thought i the train was never going to stop. To ' contain himselr was a rnatter of considerahle effort. As the station hove in sight, he seized his suit-case, and several seeonds before the train eame to rest he leapt to the platform. He glanced at the station clock. It was just noon. Wilford seemed a small and sleepy place. Apparsntly, the railway officials were specially selected to fit in with the gen.eral scheme, for the porter whom Maitland

aceosted a few moments later was the sleepiest, most vacant man imaginable. Maitland caught him as he was in the aet of slowly elosing a earriage door. "Next train baek to Asher?" snapped Maitland. "Eh? ' "What timo can I catch a train to Asher?" This train oon t go to Asher, guv'nor. " "I know that. 1'vc just got out of it!" "Other platform for Asher." 'Yes! \es! But what tiiae?" This ti am goes to - Elkington, Farley, Downstead, Evesham, Little Sprogtonfield, Haverside " I don t want to know where-this train goes to!"' shouted Maitland impatiently. Can t you tell nie tlie time of the next train to Asher?" "Oh, Asher!" repeated the porter, scratching the bacK of his head. "Yes, Asher!" The porter mediated for a full minute. A ou d bctter ask at the booking-office, " he mumbled at last. "Tou see, guv'nor, Liis is my platform, and Asher trains come in at the other platform." Maitland strode off in disgust. At the booking-office he had better luck. After repeating his question several times, he at length elicited the fact that the next tram back to Asher was the 2.25 p.m. Two hours wait!" he groaned. He left his suit-case in the cloakroom, and walked into Wilford. He was hot

and flustered, and required a pcriod of quiet thinking to restore his muffled temper. Besides, his plan of action was to be thought out. He had quite decided to help the girl. But, how ? First, he would go back to Asher. Inquiries from the station officials migbt put him on the scent. The striking beautv of the girl was almost sure to havs been remarked. Then, assuming he discovered where she had gone, what then? How was he to effect a rescue? He reflected that he was alone and unarmed. Should he buy a revolver? "I'll wait until I get back to -Asher," he decided, after much strenuous thought. He returned to the station, and, after what seemed an age, tlie 2.25 puffed sedately in. t The journey back to Asher seemed to take even longer than the previous one, but there is an end to all things, and at last the train drew in the station. He alighted hastily. Waiting until the other passengers had given up their tickets, Maitland approach-

ed the collector — a red faced man, with a fiery moustache. "Were you on duty here about three hours ago?" he asked. "Wot? ' said tlie other, in a surly tons. "Were you here when the ten o'clock train from Waterloo arrived?" "Y'es, I was 'ere, mister," he admitted. "Now, tell me, Did you notice, by any chance, an elderly lady, dressed in black — a rather stern face, she's .got — accompanied by a very pretty girl of eighteen? Both were carrying small handbags." "Ay : I know the pa-rties you mean. I saw 'ero!" Maitland felt a glow of excitement thrill his veins. "Did they change into another train, or go out of the station?" "I suppose you lost sight of thcm then ?"

"For the moment I did; but ahout five minutes later, as I was a-going to the office to give up me tickets, I saw 'em outside the station 'ere. They wTere just goin' to take the cab,. I should say." "Good!" said Maitland. "Thanks very much !" . . He quitted the station hurriedly. Now he was sure on point number one — that his quarry had not left the neighbourhood of Asher. Outside the station stood a single one-horse cab of dilapidated appearance. It was difficult to decide which was the more decrepit — the cab or the horse. Near

by, leaning up against the wall, with a straw in his mouth, was a tough-looking, brown-faced, old man. On seeing Maitland, the old man slowly straightened himself. "Cab, zur?" he asked, in funeral tones. Without replying, Maitland produced another half-crown, and fingered it Jy"Are you the only cab that plies here?" he asked. "Yes, sir. And a very good cab it be, sir. Comfortable as a kerridge. Arid safe." "M'yes ; I should imagine it's quite safe," replied Maitland, regarding the an. cient nag between the shafts. "Where would you want to be going, sir?" Maitland was visited by an inspiration. "I want you to drive me, cabby, to the same place that you drove those two ladies who ca-me down by the eleven-thirty train from London . "What — Digby Lodge, sir?" Iliat s place, ' said Maitland easily. "But I don't want to go right to the house itself. Put me down a hundred yards this side of it."

"AJ1 right, sir, I understand." Maitland climbed into the nckety, old cao. A minute later, he was heing conveyed, at a leisurely pace, towards th,e object of his search. ihe cab drove through the quaint streetg of the little town of Asher, eventually .emerging into a quiet, well-kept road. On either side, each in its own giounds, and situated well back from the road itself, were a number of attractive houses, of comfortable size, suddenly, the cab pulled up with a jerk. Maitland alighted. Here you are, sir! ' said the cabby. "Digby Lodge be the third 'tm on the left," Maitland thanked him and paid the man who after persuadmg his steed to perform a number of complicated evolutions, succeeded in turning tbe cab about, and d^cve off. Di.gby Lodge proved ,to he a typ« similaa* to its neighbours. As he strolled by, in a leisurely manner, Maitland scrutinised it closely. Certamly, its outWard appearance gave no signs of crime and villainy. He walsed past the house a dozen yards then turned, and slowly retraced his steps. This occurred several times. When he was passing the house, for, perhaps, the tenth time, he realised, with a start that he was being watched.

Next door to Digbv caUed The Cherries/and f ^ ^ gate of this latter residenc© tliat^ &t ^ discerned a small, white-haked ^ old man intently regardinr him' /'Won't do to let the old W picious, thought Maitland to v £tl e,lscan do nothing for the moment'' Besides, I'm getting deucedly , Wlth thf't' he sauntcred calmW the road, back towards the town half an hour later he was engaged' ' isfying his hunger and thinkhw plan of action. c 1 "h Yet, had he known it, scarceh ^ out of sight, when the wizened man trotted out .of his gate and ? drive to Digby Lodge. ''' 11)6 Arrived at the front door, he i agitated knock. apN^ "Is Miss Bloomsbury in?" he asked ti maids, in breathless tones. "Yes, sir!" "Please tell her I must see her at. on a matter of the greatest impor4n«w

Maitland sat long over his meal in n little hotel which he had discovered ' his hunger was appeased, he smokS cigarette after cigarette, whilst he deerly cogitated over his next step. It was nearing seven o'clock when he left the hotel, apd already the daylight w beginning to fade. Proceeding glowiy taking a circuitous route, he wended his way once more towards Digby Lodge The road was deserted, ar.i m it ^ almost dark. Walking boldly ^ Ihe gate, Maitland opened it, and quietty ^ toed along the drive. Close to the house was a clump 0[ lanrel bushes. A moment later he had left the drive and concealed himself in these, ii such a position that, though invisible himself, he had a good view of the house, Inside he could see all lights were turned on, hut the drawn blinds prevented him seeing actually into the rooms, OccasionaL ly, he heard voices, and once he thought he caught- the sound of lier voice. "Blue Eyes!" From the church clock, in the town, lie presently hea-rd the hour chiming. iiight o'clock! An hour passed slowly, without event, and then another. Maitland began to feel stiff and cramped, and mre than once he caught himself noddiig, as his eyolids gnew heavy with watching. The clock chimed the half-hour after ten "Click."

What was that? He glanced upwards, and saw that the lights had suddenly been switched on in one of t-he bedrooms upstairs. Evidently, the people in the houss were preparing to retire for tbe nigbt. Then he saw the outline of a figure, siJhouetted for a moment, in the act of shutting the window before drawing the blind. It was the girl! Stooping, he hurriedly grabbed a handful of earth and pebbles, and fiung t hem al the window. In a:a instant, the window was raised again. "Who's there?" "Hush!" repiied Maitland, in subdued tones. "They might hear you!" "Who are you?" "A friend. I've come to help you! 1 got your note." The girl paused doubtfully for a moment. She was now leaning out of the window, jieering down into the darknees towards Maitland. "Where are you?" she asked. "1 caat see you." "I'm in the laurel bushes." "Ah !" "Don't speak too.,loudly. We may be oyerheard," warned Maitland. At his words, it- seemed that the gi® gave a little gasp. Then she said : "LiV— W-" — u stop where you art for a little while!" ' x ...-.o an inch!" The next instant, the girl withdrew ao closed the window. Maitland reniais^ motionless, wondering what was gouig happen next. He was now trembuig violently with excitement and antic'P t-ion. . , Then a footstep on tlie drive made his heart jump. He stared ml6 darlcness. , The figure of a man was sW motionless a few yards from him. Maitland kept quite still, scarcel) ^ to breathe. Had he heen discovered- ^ man seemed to be looking towai' * laurel bushes. His curiosity was satisfied a " later- •„ • t" caid "Come out of it, you villain . ^ man, suddenly breaking the sile"|l • a I warn you I have you eovere ^ revolver. If you try to escap(.shoot! Come out!" ^ Maitland hesitated. Then his eaT an ugly click, suggestive o hammer being drawn bac ' ^ Having no desire to be mad e» he parted the bushes an em ^ The man with the revoRw couple of paces, keeping in

"Into the house!" be commanded. "Quick march!" There was no help for it. Biting his lip with mortification, Maitland walked up to the front door, which was standing open, and entered the hall, closely followed by the man with the gun. The latter closed the door behind him. "Now go into the room on the right!" Maitland did as he was directed. He found himself in a well-furnished room that was evidently used as a library. Inside, he found two people facing him. "Ah!" The two were his fellow travellers in the train from Waterloo — the dragon and the girl. "Got him!" exclaimed the man triumphantly, still keeping Maitland carefully covered. "So old Mr Niblick was right after all ! And now telephone for the police!" "The police!" Maitland repeated the words in astonishment. "Don't like the sound of that word, do you?" said the man, whom Maitland now p.erceived to be about fifiy years of age and of military appearance. "You iittle thought a few minutes ago you were talking to my daughter, eh? Thought you were speaking to your confederate, didn't you?" "But — but — " stammered Maitland. He clutched his head with his hands. Whai was this man talking about? Was ! e awake or dreaming? "What does it all mean?" he exclaimed, And, turning to the girl, went on : "I came to help you — rescue you, if possible— and yet you have betrayed'me! Surely, you know me? I was in the train this morning, and I picked up your message!" The girl regarded him. "My message?" Maitland extracted the scrap of paper from his pocket — cldfcely watched L y the man, who evidently suspected him of con. cealing a weapon — and held it out io the girl. The latter approached him cautiously, and took the paper. Unfolding it, she read the written words with wondering eyes. She stared at Maitland in open amazement. "But sure — surely you didn't think that I dropped t'nis on purpose? Oh!" Inexplicably, she broke into a laugh. "Its >li right, dad ! You can put up your revolver • Mr Niblick was wrong, after all. This young man isn't a burglar at all !" "Then, who in the name of goodnosi, is he? And what was he doing hidlng in the laurel bush?" Instead of replying, the girl handed the scrap of paper to her father. "What the — Who the — Wi.at the dickens is the meaning of this?" splattered. the elderly man. "Blue Eyes? who the deuce is Blue Eyes?" . There was a phrase that old-t'roe novelists were extremely fond of using. It ••xactly fitted Maitland's feelings now. ile wish,ed he could "sink through the Tonr." so acute was his shame and mortific ition From the explanations that followed, be emerged considerably damaged. Vs hat a fool he'd been? But the girl scftened her amusement with a pitying rcnile. "You see," she explained, "cld Mr Niblick, who lives next door, and who is in constant dread of burglars, saw yoji gazing at the house in a way he considered suspicious. As soon as you had cone, he came and warned us. When I was upstairs, and you spoke to me, I nnturally mistook you for the burglar." "But why " began Maitland. "I thought you might he a confederate of one of the maids, and had mistaken me for your accomplice." "Oh," said Maitland, crestfailm, "And as for this," said the girl, point'r.g to the scrap of paper in her father s liaud, "it was just a page out of a story I am writing. I should have thought, ' she added, with the faintest touch of pcori i.i her voice, "that you would have guessed that." Maitland groaned. With burning ears, he apologised numbly, and sought to leave the house. The girl came to the door to let him out. "Good-night !" she said. "Good-night!" he mumbled. He stumbled ashamedly through the doorway. Then he turned. "Good-bye!" he said. "You will ncver See me again !" "Oh, don't say that!" replied tlie girl. "In fact," she added softly, 'if you should happen to .call to-morrow afternoon, 1 dare say I shall be in ! " "What!' exclaimed Maitland, taking a step forward. The girl smiled, then gently closed the door. The End.