THE DAUGHTER OF A PRODIGAL.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 3234, 2 June 1911, Page 3

THE DAUGHTER OF A PRODIGAL.

BY BERTHA M. CLAY,

Authoress of “The Ironmaster’s Dauahter,” Etc. CHAPTER XXIV. THE EMPTY CAGE.

An awful pallor had Battled upon the drawn features of Ja-bez Corston. His bristly white hair lay almost flat upon his head-, mioist with the d-ews of despair. Every line of his robust figure was drooping, and the mouth and chin only were- resolute. “I’ve- fought to win all my life,,” he said, “and I’ve carried things with a pretty high hand. I was going to win this time, too, if, I hadn’t sit rude a hidden reef. But I never dreamed that I should be guilty of taking human life.” He- shook himself with a hollow

laugh. “It’s all right Beach; bear witness that Jabez Corston is no cur. Two sets of' brains are working in- this head of mdne, and there’s only onei safe way to be quit of this difficulty. The body must be- hidden. Neither you nor I have ever Been this man Barker. I could not endure a- police investigation. We should be arrested upon some coroner’s Avar ant-, committed for trial, and have to -go through with it. No, I have decided. Come.” He refilled his brandy flask and tucked it away in liis coat pocket.” “The wind is rising,’ he remarked coolly. “AH the better. • A gale would suit my mood.” He Avalked hastily back to the enginehouse- and bent over the still form of Barker.

“The watchman's due back ait midnight,” the ground bailiff quavered. “Yes, I have taken all into consid-er-tion, and if you obey me—” He broke off and sniffed the air. The clouds AA'ore flying oA-er the face- of a- full moon. “I’m going to hide th-e poor felloAV 1 in the Avorkin-gs of No. 2 pit. It -may be the last descent; I hope it will be. I shall take him to the end of the west workings and blow ’em up, or down, Avitli dynamite-. The disappearance of Tredcroft’s spy av; 1.1 be complete.” Beach shook in his boots. His lips m-oA'cd, but no sound passed them. The wind leapt doAvn from the sky in fierce puffs, and the fires in the braziers gloAA'ed at Avhit© heat. • “Raise the dampers,' Ccrston went on -impassively, “and heap coal on the furnace fires. Steam is nearly up. You are engineer enough to send doAvn the cage and'bring it up again Avlien I signal.” ' The ground bailiff fled to do his bidding. He clung to the damper chains —he raked the slack out of the fires — he flung bright coals into the gaping mouths of the furnaces. Soon the great chimney stack belched forth a cloud of smoke. Yet Beach trembled; Avhen lie saAV its black trail against the light of the mon. Others might see it, too, and Avonder what Avas doing ait the colliery. Huge tongues of flame licked the full length of the horizontal boilers, and leapt into the greedy shaft with a rush and a roar, until the engines vibrated Avith the hissing steam. Ten- —t-Aveuty minutes. It seemed an

age to the gasping, trembling man. “Ready—ready,” he called.

He reeled toAvards Co-rstou. The perspiration Avas trickling doAvn his grimy face—his eyes were staring and blood-shot. Together they bent oyer the still form of Barker and bore- him to the -mouth of the pit. “Gently,” said Corston. His A’oice was ' firm and even. “We will, make him' as comfortable as we can. This bed of sacks was an inspiration!” He stepped into the cage. “Don’t lose your head, Beach. When I signal I shall be ready to come hack alone. Steady does it. Good-bye.” Beach pressed a lever, and the- machinery began to rumble. He .was afraid to -go faster than- a third of the usual speed-. The cage disappeared, and he waited ,every nerve tense. The minutes passed ; his eyes were- glued to the indicator; his cal’s Avei’e strained to cat-chi the Avarning of the electric signal. Thank - God! The cage had touched b-ottom. - Noav -lie began to calculate lioav long it would -be before Corston ascended The west Avortrings were a mile long. An hour, at least—a full hour. If the watolima-n came back. He cowered in front of the furnaces; the summer wind -Avas colder than death. He fancied that myriads of ghoulish eyes were Avatehing him—lie heard gibings in tile air, in the rushing steam, in the roar o-f the furnaces. If he fled now —

The whir-r-r of the electric signal thrilled; him through and through. He ran to til© lever, and again the piston left its sheath and leaped back and forth with the*sound of a great throb; the wheels revolved ,and the cage was flying upward. And now Beach, plucked up courage once more. It wouldn’t take long to drop the dampers and bank the fires; fco. lock up the office and go home'—never to return to the awful place again. Then Jabez Coirsrton could face the music in his own way, but. he—yes, he and his family would go abroad—Canada. —New Zealand —anywhere ' ‘‘Wbir-r-r-r. Tinkle—tinkle!” He stopped tlie engine and tottered to the cage.

'■'You're half an hour ahead of time. Gorston,” he gurgled. Then his eyes half started from their sockets as he glanced from side to side, anguished and terified. The cage was empty! He clung to* the. rail with both' hands and saw that a piece of white paper was fluttering on the inner side* It was a leaf torn from a, pocket-book, and upon it was pencilled the following: My dear Beach,—While you were getting up steam my last resolution was made. I shall die in the mine, and be buried with Tiedcroft’s spy. I. am now at the bottom of No. 2 main shaft ,and while you are reading this I shall be on my way to the .west workings. „■ I shall take the body with me on. a. trolley, together with a pick and shovel, and cut down one or more of the pillars which support the roof. You know the result. I think this -will be preferable to using dynamite, me explosion might cause an official investigation. Now for your own. safety iit will be well to

leave things above ground exactly as we found them. I don’t think the watchman will, bei back for hours, as I told him' that I should be m the office all night. You can spread the report that I am ruined and have bolted. T anticipated something of this and my wife and my daughter, heaven help them, are prepared.— Good-bye, JABEZ CORSTON. The ground bailiff read this extraordinary mesago in the light of one of the brazier fires. An icy dew lay thick upon liis hands and face. He had received his instructions and he proceeded to obey them' in a dull, mechanical fashion. His brain was numbed. He dropped the dampers, smothered the fires 1 with fine slack; and it soon seemed as if things were exactly as the engineer had left them when work stopped in the afternoon. He forgot to look up the office, and turned his steps homeward..

The following evening the- bailiff started out with lie fixed determination to tell John Russell the truth. Why should hiis word be doubted And then his heart contracted Why had ho delayed for twenty precious, hours ? He' went to Donington railway station, where he was relieved to hear that there was no train to Ardley for an hour, and he could walk the distance in the time. The exertion would re-

lieve him of some' of bis pent-up feedings So away he strode thinking—thinking, and the last words of his wife, to whom he had told his secret, clanged in his brain. “You may have the life of Mr Corston on your conscience!’’ May I There was no may about it Corston was dead long since. The gaffer’s life was on his conscience. A coward again, he came to a halt in front of John Russell’s house. A glorious moon was shining above. A nightingale was singing in a bit of woodland.

. “I can’t do it,” Beach derided. “I should be a fool to do it. I must have been double mad to let a woman advise me. What does a ..woman .'know about anything?” _ ■ Then lie started, and nerved himself for some so it of an ordeal. There was John Russell himself, leaning over the garden gate, a. pipe between his teeth. Russell, at sight of him, removed the pipe and spoke. “Though that was you, Beach. Want to see me?”

“Yes; I’ve got some rum news, Mr Russell. I’ll tell you here.” He took off his hat and nervously mopped his hot face. “I should have come over sooner, only I was so upset.” “Out with it,” said John. “I’ve had several doses lately, and another one won’t hurt me.”

“No, sir. I’m glad to hear it. Tins is the last, I hope, but there’s a lot of rue in it. You know that Mr Corston lia.s lately been spending the night at the office when the fit took him He was there last night, and it seems the credit and the ready money have dried up together. He hasn’t been exactly straight with ns.” “He’s been straight with me,” Russell, said quickly. “Well, the colliery is done for, and Mr Corston’s bolted.” “Your mind is wandering, Beach.” John Russell was regarding the ground bailiff’s hagard face with troubled eyes- “ Surely it isn’t- tlia-t bad?” “It’s all that ; I was with him to the last. And there’s something else. I’m afraid lie’s been playing double. He’s gone away with the man Barker— Trodcroft’s secretary and spy. That’s what I can’t make out. It’s true—true as gospel, and Mr Corston told me to tell you. The colliery’s broke, and you are to do what you like with the machinery. It may be my fault partly ;I had to tell him that we must

sink another and a deeper shaft. Then he turned on me—l’m done, sir; you’ve got the truth. Satisfy yourself and make the best of it. I shan’t go near the place again—unless it’s to post up a notice of suspension—with your permission, of course.” There was silence —tense and terrible. “It almost passes belief,” Russ-ell said at last, “and it hurts me to think that Corston- is a traitor. I can do little— I’m all but penniless. Of course, work cannot be resumed. Beach. You haTe been our adviser right along.” “Yes, sir,” Beach put :sin hoarsely. “I’ll :see that the men are dismissed. Now .'the pumps are- stopped the mines will soon be: flooded again.” , - “And all these years of labour have ended in nothing!” John Russell sighed. “What could my partner and the enemy have in common ” “Better ask Mr Tredcroft,” scoffed Beach. “I think I will,” said John. “I think 1 will!” .

(To be Continued.)