THE DAUGHTER OF A PRODIGAL.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 3236, 5 June 1911, Page 3

THE DAUGHTER OF A PRODIGAL.

by BERTHA M. CLAY,

Authoress of “The Ironmaster’s Daunhter,” Etc. CHAPTER XXVI. JOHN RUSSELL’S REASONS

John Russell cycled to the colliery before six o’clock on Monday morning. Beach was already and a notice two feet long by a foot and a-lialf wide was tacked on the door of the general office. It stated briefly that operations were entirely suspended. The workers grumbled loudly and threateningly. ’They demanded either employment or legitimate notice, and the ground bailiff’s savage answers did not help to soothe them. “I’m obeying the orders of Mr. Colston,” Beach told the men, “and if you don’t like it, you can do the other thing.”

In the midst of this turmoil Russell came upon the scene. He very promptly called a meeting of the chief engineer and the foreman. Beach stood by, and his anxiety was almost pitiable. His face was white and‘drawn—his eyes tired and bloodshot. “I’ll be spokesman, sir,” he pleaded, “and if I make a mistake you puill me up. These men only think of themselves and a paltry week’s wages. Just consider my sufferings and your own. We can’t turn round and get another job, for a few days at most. You lose the labour and the hopes of years, and I have lost a reputation. I admit being at fault, and when I told Mr Corston that a new and deeper shaft must be sunk it was too much for him.”

The assembled foremen heard this,, and one of them spoke. “Are you tolling the truth, Mr Beach?’

“Absolutely.” “Then we’d better sink the new shaft.”

“The money’s exhausted,” said John Russell. : “We can’t fight the Tredcroft gang. Mr Corston recognised this, and in a state or panic has gone off somewhere. No doubt he will come back again, but in the meantime we can do nothing.” “He’ll never come back,” broke in Beach. “He’s been arranging to bolt for ia week or two. There was no panic, and he chose Saturday night so that be could have Sunday clear.” “I don’t believe that,” said Russell. “I know Mr Corston, and he isn’t a a coward. I’m not satisfied yet that he’s gone at all, and I’m going to make every inquiry. If he has left us in the lurch, he’s mad, but when lie recovers his sanity, he wil come back and face the music.”

The ground bailiff . laughed disdainfully. “All right; you believe what you like. Mr Corston was one too many for you. He took care to provide' for his family. I tell it was all cult and dried.”

Russell checked an angry reply, and turned to tlhe foreman.

“Persuade the men to go away quietly, and tell them from me that they shall- have a full week’s money next Saturday. We don’t know yet what may turn up, but if the worst comes to the, worst we can sell the machinery, even if it has to go to the enemy. I’m going to beard him in his den, and see what he’s made of. Perhaps he’ll take over the mines as they stand and resume work immediately ” ‘Thank you, sir,” said the engineer. “We’ll hope for the best. I’ve never seen this Mr Tredcroft, but I’ve heard of him,.” He shook his head.

“Bah!” Beach snapped his fingers. “If I was owner I’d demolish everything with dynamite before that, human bloodsucker should have it:.”

The engineer and the foreman shook hands with John Russell, and filed out of the office. They nodded at the bailiff, but he didn’t notice them. He was staring out of the window with agonised, unseeing eyes. “I will wait for the mail,” Russell observed rather gloomily. “It’s just possible—” He broke off with a sigh. “I don't see how the scandial can be averted.” Beach made for the door. “There’s no reason for the men to loiter about now,” he snapped. f “We don’t want anybody here. I can do all the watching necessary. The loose tools shall be locked up in the engine house, oar they’ll be helping themselves.”

He strode out of the office muttering ,'iid throwing his hands about. There was a good hour to wait before the postman came, and Russell overhauled the private papers. If this act of Jabez Corston’s had been, premeditated, then he had concealed his intentions remarkably, well. John did not feel so bad about, it as one might imagine. Roth he and Corston had known for some time that things were going decidedly wrong; they had talked about winding up and making a division. of the wreckage, but the idea of sudden and swift flight had never entered John Russell’s head. There was something; repugnant about it. They had been guilty of no wrong; they had simply made a gigantic failure, and nobody suffered hut themselves. No doubt it was harder for Corston than for himself. His partner was double his age, and youth counts for a great deal. Corston had been the monied man.—the’ practical]; man, the prime mover in the whole enterprise, Russell had still health, strength, and brains

i' tact. And the rights in his patents must be worth a very respectable sum. Half of everything belonged toCorston. Undoubtedly he was temporarily mad. Then caune the'question of Tredcroft’s spy. What could there he in common with this man John Russell was not good at riddles, hut he decided to his own sa.tisfict.ion.

“I shan’t be a whit surprised,” he reflected, “to find that Mr Tredcroft is making overtures to its. This secretary of his—Barker, I think his name is—came to Corston to open negotiations. That eock-and-bull story of George Beach’s won’t wash. Corston has gone to discuss matters- with Tredcroft, and intends springing a bombshell at my feet. That’s the solution! By jove-, if I’m right, I’ll make a home for Vera and marry her by force!” With such gladdening thoughts as these lie- threw up his head. It was impossible to be east down. The post came, hut there was no news of Jabez Corston.

Russell liacl already decided what to do. Corston’s wife and daughter were at Scarborough, where the season was at is height. Perhaps Mr Corston was there, too. At any rate, he would send a harmless little telegram;, and wait for the reply. If the reply was not satisfactory- he' would go to' Mr Tredcroft’s place at Ivinver right away. That yarn about the millionaire’s secre- > tary had to be sifted.

He -worded the telegram very cautiously, and addressed it to Mrs Corston. Then he .mounted his bicycle, and flew to the nearest telegraph office-. “I’ll wait here for the answer, if you don’t mind,” he said. “it will save valuable time.”

ITe heard the thing ticked off, and looked at the clock on the wall. It was exactly fifteen minutes to nine. He sat down on a bench kept for the accommodation of telegraph messengers, and 1 took a, newspaper from his pocket. After reading for what appeared to be an unconscionable' time, lie glanced hopefully at the clock again, and was disgusted to find that the hands had not readied the nine. He jumped up, and went over to an hotel opposite the post-office. A score of his own men were in the tap-rooan talking about the affairs of the colliery. He stood in the saloon bar, and drank a cup of coffee, and heard things which were not palatable. It is always the way when the mighty fall. The talk concerned Mr Corston principally; John Russell

had never counted much with anybody. He was not the monied man. “There’s some cunning scheme afoot,” said a- voice that Russell knew well. “What was Tredcroft’s confidential man doing at our pits after we’d all left on Saturday? Tredcroft’s watchman told me fie was there.” John Russell started. Was Beach’s story true after all ? He beckoned to the barman. “You know me? Tell our engineer to come round to the saloon. I want to speak to him.” The engineer came. He was rather surprised, and his confusion was apparent, too. “You heard me talking, sir?” lie said sheepishly. “I did. What about this watchman’s story? I could not bring myself to believe all that Mr Beach said. He is an irritable, excitable man, and I thought that he had made a mistake.” “Since I left the colliery, sir,” the engineer answered confidently, “I’ve had a talk with Tredcroft’s watchman. He is positive that their confidential man came over to our place late on Saturday night. He saw him and spoke to him. That’s all I know about it. I was only expressing my opinion, and perhaps I was wrong to do it in a public bar. I think that Mr Corston is scheming—” “Hush! I won’t hear one word to my partner's discredit. lam much obliged to you. Good morning.”

•John walked' out into the street, a new set of fears battling within him. Well, well, time would prove all things. His answer from Mrs Corston was waiting when ho returned to the post-office, and it ran thus: Mr Corston not at Scarborough. Have not heard from him for several days.. John stood for some minutes apparently in deep thought. As a matter of fact, he was too dazed to think at all.

He took off his hat and bared his head to, the breeze; he read the telegram for the third time. Then a change came over him; he was galvanised into sudden and swift life. He seized his bicycle and rode away to Donnongton Station. He left the machine in the booking-office, and bought a ticket to Weirbridge.

(To he Continued.)