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The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 13, Issue 6 (September 1, 1938)

Part IV

Part IV.

Well, Mr. Kingswell, found out anything?” asked Jasper.

“Only that I'm convinced they are the two ‘wanteds’. Next Thursday night, I expect some developments. Those two are anxious to get away. If they give notice next Wednesday—well, we can look out for something. Now don't be surprised at what I am going to ask you. What is your opinion of Wynder?”

“I can't make him out, Mr. Kings-well. He has rarely come out of his office during the last few days. I have been naturally interested since you told me about the revolver. I had a look in his office when he went to lunch, and I don't think he has touched a thing for weeks,” said Jasper.

“Um! Try and have a look at the journal and cash book to-morrow. I am honestly afraid this man is more to be feared than both our whiskered friends. Just go on the same, Jasper. I am counting on you if anything happens.”

“I am with you, Mr. Kingswell.”

“It's an awkward position altogether.

The names of people in this story are wholly imaginary, though the incidents referring to some of the employees as being refugees from the Law are true. In the early days the remoteness of some of the mills made it quite possible for “wanteds” to hide in seclusion for many months.

One does not want to jump to conclusions about Wynder. There's just something. His behaviour at the house is like a gentleman's though I have noticed a lack of sincerity. He is often absent-minded. Yet women are supposed to be better judges of characters than men, and Miss Cushla apparently likes him.”

“So do I, in a way, but there's just that something, as you say,” replied Jasper.

“Well, let us go in. Perhaps Miss Cushla will take a hand in a game of bridge.”

“Come on, Mr. Kay,” said Jasper.

“You and I against Cushla and Mr. Lynn.”

A little later Wynder came in.

“Been for your usual constitutional, Mr. Wynder?”

“What is the promise of the weather for cricket to-morrow?” asked Cushla.

“It looks all right, Miss Cushla,” said Wynder.

“The stars like little orbs of light,

Pierce through the darkness of the night.

They tell the morrow will be fine

And sunshine bring to thee and thine.”

“Good for you, Mr. Wynder,” said Jasper. “But look here, listening to you I nearly revoked.”

Everyone hustled through their work on Saturday morning, so the afternoon would be unbroken for cricket.

* * *

It was astonishing what Jasper had moulded out of the material he had to hand. He captained one team, and Hawkins the other. Mr. Kay had provided a large marquee where afternoon tea was dispensed by Miss Cushla.

An outsider dropping in on the scene would have been amazed to see, in this page 45 out of the way place, a cricket match in full swing, and every member of the team in white.

Mr. Kay said that the good feeling which existed among the men was mostly due to cricket, and the good influence of Mr. Jasper. Lynn assisted Cushla with the afternon tea, Jasper also lending a hand.

“By Jove! this does you credit, Jasper. Some of your old friends here play quite a good game, and for a fairly rough ground they field well.”

“It seems that all hands turn up to watch the game,” remarked Lynn.

“Yes, but I notice three who are absent,” replied Jasper.

“You mean Higgins, Holt and Wynder?”

“Yes. It seems funny. Wynder always turns up. The other two, only sometimes.”

Wynder, at that moment, unseen by anyone, was taking a circuitous way to the road, carrying a hand-bag which contained a change of clothing, a considerable amount of cash, a spare revolver, and a fair quantity of ammunition. He reached the gate, and followed the road about five chains along, then disappeared into the tea-tree. Ten yards from the road he placed the bag on the ground, and
“With deft hands, not disarranging anything, he searched the whole outfit.”

“With deft hands, not disarranging anything, he searched the whole outfit.”

covered it with scrub. Returning to the road, he took his pocket knife and stripped a piece of bark off a fair-sized tea-tree in order to mark the place. He then returned by the track he came and went to the house. Presently he found his way to Lynn's room and with deft hands, not disarranging anything, searched his whole outfit. He found nothing, however, and was turning to leave the room when his eye fell on a writing pad. Turning over the outside cover, Wynder read a partly-written letter which Lynn was writing to his father. There was not one word in it which would show anything other than an ordinary family letter.

Little did Wynder think that this letter had been written with an idea that he, Wynder, might see it. There was nothing in it, or in the saddle-bags to connect Lynn with being a spy or with any ulterior motive. If Wynder had found the letter in a conspicuous place he might have thought it was a subterfuge.

Wynder communicated the information to Higgins that same evening and they felt more at ease. He told Higgins where he thought would be the best place for a hold-up—near a small bridge about five miles from the gate. Both approaches had sunk to such a degree that a car had to slow right down to negotiate it. As the car eased down, Holt was to approach and point his revolver while Wynder and Higgins were to spring out simultaneously on either side, demanding “hands up.” If Martin showed fight, well, he had himself to blame.

Martin was to be bound, if not killed or wounded, the car turned round, and a get-away made with as little delay as possible. The telephone wires were to be cut. Wynder calculated on upwards of four hours' start.

“Have your tea as usual,” he told Higgins. “Immediately afterwards, make for the road, under cover, until you reach the gate, then continue to the bridge and wait for me. You and Holt better take what belongings you want, and plant them on the road somewhere, so that you can pick them up. If you can get away with some food, all the better. Meet me here next Wednesday evening. That will be all just now. Good-night Higgins!” “Good-night, Colonel.”

* * *

Lynn had taken a great fancy to Cushla, and it was not surprising when he suggested they should go for a ride down to the beach. She readily consented. It was a lovely evening, and the two chatted away about the cricket, the lovely bush, and the life at the mill. A two-mile ride brought them to the beach. There was always a swell, but on a calm night the rollers came in only about three or four feet high and, as they broke, they sent a line of snow-white foam, as far as the eye could see, along the beach.

“What a glorious night, Cushla. I don't think it is possible to find a place elsewhere where there are so many attractions,” said Lynn.

“No, Dad chose well. There's years and years of timber without breaking in on the beauty spots, and he has promised to leave quite a number of acres here and there.”

“Ah, but you see you've got an exceptional Dad, Cushla. What about a canter down the beach and then for home? They will be thinking all sorts of things if I keep you out too late.”

“All right! Let's go,” agreed Cushla. When they returned to the road and up the slope to the bush road Cushla said: “Are you going again with Martin on Thursday?”

“Yes, Cushla. But, as before, I don't want anyone to know.”

“You would not go unless you thought there was some danger to Martin.”

“Perhaps not, Cushla.”

“Then to please me, don't go. I'm afraid for you. I know you would stop at nothing, and if Martin were stuck up, you would take all the risk.”

“No,” replied Kingswell. “Martin is a brave, honest fellow, and would run more risk than I.”

“Then just this once more, Lynn.”

“I'm sorry, but so long as I think there is any danger to Martin, and a loss to your father possible, my duty is to go where my services are required. You would not think much of me if I shirked, Cushla, and I value your good opinion.”

“I think you know you have it.”

“And I intend to keep it, if possible, Cushla.”

“Then why not trust me and tell me your reasons for thinking there is trouble brewing.”

“Because I have only suspicions. You know from what I have told you that Higgins and Holt are a pair of pretty tough customers, but neither of them is plucky enough to carry off anything page 46 page 47 where there might be gun-play. They require a leader.”

“And have they got one?”

“That's just what I'm trying to find out, but never mind this business. We came out to enjoy ourselves, not to discuss the possibility of trouble. Anyhow, to change the subject, to one very near my heart. Cushla it's no use beating about the bush—I love you, and have loved you from the first day I met you on the road.”

“You're very sudden, Lynn. Do you townspeople always declare your love on such short acquaintance?”

“Just you say that you think there is hope for me and I'll never want to go back to the city to find out.”

“Well, supposing I said that there was, what would you do?”

“I would make old Scotty carry two people instead of one.”

“Well, suppose you try, Lynn.”

There was a sudden movement and then Lynn leaned over, put his arm around her waist and lifted her over across his saddle, and then covered her face with kisses.

“Well, that's that,” said Lynn, as he lifted her back on to her saddle. “Now, young lady, there is just one condition before we become properly engaged. I am going to ask your father to send you away for a month or six weeks. I can't spare you any longer, and give you a sporting chance of falling in love with somebody you may fancy better than me.”

“You old silly, Lynn. There is nothing going to change me. I am sure and I'm sure also there will be no trouble with Dad. He is fond of you, and he said the other night that with you and Mr. Jasper cruising around there was nothing left for him to worry about.”

* * *

“Here, young man, this is more than two hours you have been out,” said Mr. Kay as the pair entered the room.

“We stopped to look at some beautiful glow-worms,” said Cushla, blushing.

“So I would think by the colour of your cheeks.”

“Well, it's this way,” said Lynn. “I asked Cushla if she would ever care enough for me to be my wife, and notwithstanding my poor prospects she was kind enough to say that she had leanings that way already, so, of course, you being the head of affairs, we have come to ask you what you think of the matter.”

Mr. Kay chuckled: “I would gladly give my consent, but Lynn, I think Cushla should have a chance to find out if her feeling for you is lasting. She ought to go away for a time to the gay city—go to dances, evenings, and so on.”

“Exactly what I suggested,” said Lynn. “If she could stand a month or so with that sister of mine and come back the same there should be no misgivings for the future.”

“Anybody would think I did not know my own mind, but I shouldn't object to city life for a short while, especially if I could take Lynn with me,” said Cushla.

“That would upset the whole contract,” replied Lynn, “because I would never let you out of my sight.”

“Now you toddle off to bed, young lady. I want to talk to Lynn. I'm not too sure if he is in a fit state of mind to discuss serious things, but you toddle—prompt.”

Cushla threw her arms around her father's neck and kissed him. “You are the dearest, sweetest Dad there ever was.” She then turned to Lynn, kissed him, and rushed out of the room.

“Now, Lynn, come right down to earth and tell me what you discovered during your stewardship.”

“Not very much, but I think it would be wise to get rid of Higgins and Holt,” Lynn said.

“Are they not safer where one can keep an eye on them? If they are what you surmise, they might amble about and make a night raid.”

“You could transport them either by car or the scow to a safe distance,” Lynn replied.

“Yes, that is so, but you have not told me who the third one is.”

“I could not do that. But meetings are being held, and whether there is a third party I'm going to try and find out to-morrow night.”

There were other things that Lynn could have told Mr. Kay, but they were, after all, only surmise, and he was sure that any untoward action on the part of himself would not only put the suspects on their guard, but possibly provoke such hostile acts as might lead to gun play. Three men, well armed, could do great harm before being overpowered. Lynn was perfectly sure that no attempt would be made in the immediate vicinity, but if they were planning robbery, Martin was the one who was going to bear the brunt. Wynder was not fool enough to think that his untouched work would remain unnoticed for any long period, and he reckoned that any time a show-up might eventuate.

The following day Lynn questioned Jasper as to Wynder's movements.

“Only an increasing amount of work, and on Friday he will have to produce the usual monthly balance sheet to Mr. Kay. If that is not forthcoming reasons will have to be given.”

“This news is important, and tonight, I'll know fairly well what to expect when Martin returns. At 9 o'clock the car generally arrives back. If it is not up to time, ride out to meet it, and go armed. Remember, if anything happens there are three fairly desperate men to contend with, and your advent may be extremely opportune.”

“You're running a bit of a risk, are you not, Mr. Kingswell?”

“Not more than Martin, and I have put him on his guard.”

(To be continued.)

page 48

page 49

—(Continued from page 16).

fine co-ordination principle became firmly established as a working force in the community.

The study and production of drama was no longer the privilege of the large centres of population. The figures are most impressive. There are nine schools of drama, two-day or longer, with approximately 300 students. The Women's Institutes' special drama groups number no less than 160. The Farmers' Union Women's Division have 30 special drama groups. Of the League proper, there are groups comprising societies, drama groups, play reading societies numbering no less than 460. The aggregate membership must be more than 12,000. For a population of a million and a-half this is a fine record.

The list of place-names is a romance in itself: Appleby, near Nelson; Para-paraumu, Omihi and Ohoka in North Canterbury, Pio Pio and Taupiri in the Auckland Province, Stokes Valley, are just a few. Here are busy committees of folk engaged in the splendid task of cultural endeavour comprised in drama study.

It must be remembered that this can
(S.P Andrew, photo.) mr leo du chateau, the moving spirit in the foundation of the wellington repertory society.

(S.P Andrew, photo.)
mr leo du chateau, the moving spirit in the foundation of the wellington repertory society.

not be narrowed down to the mere playing and reading of plays.

There are all the useful and entertaining jobs of dress designing, contriving and setting up scenery, the selection and arrangement of properties, and a host of collateral activities. These are all stimulating and instructive as well. But there is an increasing purpose which is higher and more valuable still. There is no fellowship so golden in result as the fellowship of people who are engaged in the mutual pursuit of some intellectual end. It is a sweetening and wholesome task, doing good in the widest possible fashion and in a measure no other activity can rival.

The special triumph of the British Drama League is its success in bringing this magical instrument of happiness and enlightenment into the remote corners of our country.

The League has a library of no less than 350 plays. It employs a tutor who travels all over New Zealand and has proved of matchless worth.

It is true that we can claim Marie Ney, Shayle Gardner, and one or two other outstanding London figures in drama.

But this triumphant advance of this form of culture among the masses of our fellow countrymen and women is of far more importance.

It is one further shining sign that, culturally, New Zealand is growing to full nationhood.