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THE OSHAWA DAILY TIMES. MONDAY, APRIL 23, 1928 ® Copyright by Public Ledger The DEVIL'S MANTLE PETER BLAKE, seeking adven- tare in the far reaches of the South Seas, has takem a job with Tom Peter raised himself upon his elbow. It brought him agony-- as though a thousand fiends were at his back intent upon exquisite His brain reeled. But he persisted. He got his head up above the level of the gunwale. There was nothing--nothing but the blazing sun that scorched his eyeballs--nothing but that and an endless sweep of sea. And then suddenly he cried out sharply, He was wrong! There was something! Right out of the sea over there appeared a grove of trees, cool, shady, a great avenue of them; and winding, twisting, bubbling through this avenue was a stream of crys- tal water. But the boat, rather than approaching the trees, seem- ed to be receding from them. Pe- ter's head sank down again. A bit- ter laugh came from him, It was only another form of torture. A mirage! He thought about that for a time. Perhaps it wasn't a mir- age. How did he know it was a mirage? It might be--but also those trees might be real. He didn't know how far the boat had been towed, or where it had drifted since he had cut it loose. It was possible those trees might even be on Murchison's island. It was pos- sible. Anything was possible, But whether it was @ mirage or reality, the boat was drawing farther and farther away from it, The thing to do was to drive the boat toward it anyhow. Peter began a grim journey to- ward the after end of the boat. Tt was a matter of perhaps two yards to the engine, It took him an in- terval of time that was measured only by periods of dizzy flashes, by moments of oblivion, by the pain to which he succumbed in payment for every few inches of progress, Thirst and Torture And in the end a mirage in truth mocked him. He might have known! Yesterday, he eould have turned the engine over without thought of exort; today, the fly- wheel was as some fixed immovable thing that taunted hinr for his weakness and his impotence. Xo fought with it, gnawing at his lips, until he fainted. He was too far gone to start the engine, Thirst became more and more intolerable; the trees had dis- appeared; the sun grew hotter-- and it reflected on some small, bright object that seemed to pro- trude from one of the little squares of grating on the bottom of the boat there in the stern. It annoy- ed him. The glint hurt his eyes; but he could not keep his eyes from straying to it every now and then, The thing hecame an obses- sion. He became intolerably angry. He cursed the thing. It was a long way to crawl im order to pitch it overboard, He wuldn't crawl] that far. His mind was wandering a little now. There was old Sir Martin Hadley, the very correct family so- licitor. Perfeet type! Awful stew the dear old beggar had been in-- couldn't understand a chap break- ing away from the conventions-- beastly things, conventions--it wasn't done! Peter blinked his eyes at the bright, glittering object, edged an- grily a little way toward it--and desisted because it hurt him to move. "Water!" said Peter thickly. Another Mirage Sudden]y Peter smiled. She was there again. It would only be for a mroment--just as it had been that pight. There she was in the lobby of the theatre that was crowded with women in evening wraps and men in evening clothes, all making their way out to the street, laugh- ing, chatting, jostling, after the play. She would come nearer, and their eyes would meet--just for a moment--but that moment would be ome of those moments which would stand out in after life, im- perishable, sometimes fraught with a great wistfulness and sometimes with reactions that make of mem- ory a curse. After that she would pass out into the foggy London night, and, because the serowd would have surged between them, she would be lost to him. He anticipated the scene, prompt- ed by a strange, passionate hunger in his soul. He had lived it a thou- sand times since that night two years ago. Yes; there she was! There--with some soft, lacy thing about her, through which there came the gleam of ivory shoulders. And now he could see the full, white throat --the chin daintily uplifted--the hair, shining under the brilliant lizhts, crowning her head with gold. Now she would look. The moment had come. There was no reason why she should look. They had never seen each other before. They had meither touched nor brushed aginst one another. There were even three or four people between them. But she would look. Now! There was laughter in her face, responsive to something that her escort had said, perhaps; laughter in her eyes that were blue --a blue such as he had never seen before, but Meeting Her E; 2s And then the laughter died out of her face, and died out of her eyes. Their eyes were meeting, holding one another with strange intensity--as though a thousand years ago in some forgotten world and some forgotten way they had known each other, And in that long gaze there was a startled wonder in her eyes, a troubled questioning, a great amazement; and in his, he knew, unbidden, his soul. A color came, faintly pink, to tinge her cheeks--and she was gone--swept as swiftly and as abruptly out of his life as she had entered it. Name- less--a memory--imrmortalizing a moment, Gone! Peter lifted a haggard face. "Water!" Peter mumbled. That damned bright, shiny thing was still there! Well, he would get it! Why should it torment him, and pierce his eyes with stabs of pain every time the sun touched it! He crawled along--made a foot-- lay exhausted--made another foot --and, grimly determined now, cursing the object, his weakness and the agony he imposed upon himself through his efforts, he fin- ally reached out and grasped it, Peter started at it. He wasn't angry with it.any more. Possession seemed to have robbed him of his antagonisny, It was a key, of course--hut it was a very curious looking key--a slender key--very delicately and intricately finished as to its wards and notches. It was perhaps three inches long, and scarcely more than an eighth of an inch in width, and its thickness seemed to be little more than that of a piece of paper. And yet, for all its slender proportions, it was not flexible. Peter passed his tongue around his parched lips. Perhaps it was hecause he had no strength left--perhaps that was why it wasn't flexible. What did it matter? It was a curious thing anyhow--too eurious a thing to throw overboard. It wouldn't hother him if he kept out of the sunlight--that was the main thing. Peter put it in his pocket, The sun grew hotter, The hoat drifted on through the hours. Another dawn came * pitiless sun, * * * Peter lay in the bottom of the hoat--motionless--his face hidden in his outflung arms. A Man of Power It was said of Humphrey Garth that he could command more ready money, and on shorter notice, than any other man in the Common- wealth of Australia. At 60 he was a grim-faced, shaggy-eyebrowed man with thick gray hair. He had made his fortune mostly in "wool"; but his interests with the years had widened--vasily. Big things. Steel, shipbuilding, far-flung financial en- terprises--even in London, Hum- phrey Garth, of Sydney, was a man of power. He lived lavishly; he spent lavishly. He possessed a su- perh home and estate just on the outskirts of Sydney; he maintained a magnificent ocean-going yacht. He was widely known; and, like all men of his station in life who are subject to public appraisal, that ap- praisal ran freely up and down the scale; and from being a "good old sort" to some who might for rea- sons hold to that opinion, he was, to others, for reasons held equally as valid, a tricky, shrewd and ruth- less money-grabber, whose soul, if he ever had one, had long since surrendered itself to the god of gold. Mr. Humphrey Garth, how- ever, was in the habit of saying with a rather grim smile that he didn't give a damn what anybody thought about hinr. He was sitting now on the ver- anda of his house in Sydney, and staring across a dainty tea-service at a golden-haired girl with wide, laughing, . blue eyes who sat oppo- site to him. The girl's laugh, low and mel- low, rippled out. "Why. father!" she exclaimed, "I had no idea you cared in the least for that sort of thing!" "Don't!" said Mr. Garth shortly. "Not as a general rule. I'm not sure I do at all. I suppose it adds something to the sum total of hu- man knowledge, and Rand seems tremendously serious about fit, as though the Bank of England would collapse if he didn't earry on, but #.% the much enthusiasm over prowling up prehistoric eggs, the habits of man-eating hunters at first hand." One Who's Famous and studying | "And yet," said the girl, shyly, "¥ou've seen quite a lot of him of late, and helped to make a fuss over him--you've even invited him "J don't know him well enough to say whether 1 like him or not," she retorted. out here this afternoon; and we're giving, 1 believe, a rather formal dinner for himy tomorrow night." "Huh!" said the multimillion- aire. "Quite another matter Mar- ion--quite another matter! The man's famous, of course. Known everywhere -- Singapore to Lon- don." "But you don't like a man well enough to accept the sort of invita- tion we are talking about, merely because he happens to be famous, do you?" "Do you?" countered her father bluntly. Marion laughed and shook her head. "I don't know him well enough to say whether I like him or not, if that's what you mean," she re- torted. "But I certainly should not lke him just because he had con- tributed some admittedly valuable papers to the leading scientific journals. It means at least six weeks, ~or two months." "Well, I'm rather keem to go," said Mr. Humphrey Garth with sud- den decision. '"'At least, he's an interesting beggar, and he doesn't fling those prehistoric eggs of his at your head every time you speak to him. "Modest with his achievements even to the point of reticence, I'd say--I like that. They say he's got an amazing place, a regular muse- um, up there on that island of his. And then, another thing--the date just suits me. Two weeks from now 1 shall be ripe for a little holiday-- need it, by Jove! And a week or ten days at sea will be just what 1 want. In fact, IT was thinking of proposing a cruise somewhere with no definite objective in mind." An Adventure Marion got up from her chair, stepped quickly around the table, and laid her hands on her father's shoulders. To Marion her father was her all; there were but the two of them, and she had never known her mother. "I'd love to go, father, simply. "It will be a wonderful ad- venture up among those strange wild islands that nobody ever vis- its--I've always wanted to see them." Mr. Humphrey Garth serewed his head around, glanced a little quiz- gzically at his daughter. and then, she sald LR drawing her face down to his, kiss- ed her. "Of course, you'd just love to go ~--because 1 want to go," he smiled. "I don't know whether to believe you or mot. Bat, I'll take you at your word and call it settled." "Since it must be somewhere' -- Marion hummed her paraphrase gayly--"it might as well be there." "Exactly," laughed Mr. Hum- phrey Garth, of Sydney, boyishly. "And there's Herman Rand now, if I'm not mistaken." From where they were sitting at the corner of the great house, the , view extended in ome direction out over that incomparable harbor that , is all Sydney's own, and in the far distance the "Heads" could be faintly discerned; inland, the eye met a magnificent grove of trees -and a cool, winding avenue that led , up to the house. It was along this avenue that a motorcar was now 'rapidly approaching. "Yes, that's Mr. Rrand,"? sald Marton, as the car swept around to the front entrance and she caught a glimpse of its occupant, She rang for more tea. A Visitor Arrives The tea and the visitor arrived almost simultaneously. Marion found herself appraising the man from a new and critical point of view. Her father's decision trans- formed Mr. Rand from a quite cas- ual acquaintance into a personage with whom a certain degree of in- timacy must hereafter inevitably exist. One did not accept an in- vitation as a house guest on a lone- ly island for an indefinite period without being thrown a good deal into close contact with one's host! |She watched him mow as he came lforward along the veranda toward them. He was tall, very dark, quick rand lithe in his movements; a man, 'she judged; of perhaps 38 or there- abouts, and by no means bad-look- |ing--that is, she decided, if one 'didn't pick his features to pieces. If one did that, of course, the lips jwere a little too long and thin and ithe jaw was terribly hard, and the leyes were too small and too close together. But then, of course, one could pick any one to pieces! Cer- ltainly, he looked decidedly healthy ~--a man who obviously lived his |life in the open, his face bronzed, land-- "I'm afraid I'm a little late," 'said Rand apologetically, as he ishook hands with Marion and her | father. "On the contrary," said Mr. Humphrey Garth pleasantly, "you larrived at exactly the psychological moment. We had just decided that |the gpportunity of paying you a vis- (it up in that queer part of the world of yours was far too alluring to lose." "Really" exclaimed Rand heart- ily. "You're coming, then? Both of you? Well, I am delighted I was hoping you would--but I knew it {was rather a large undertaking and I had my fears. I can't tell you {how glad I am. I've got to go over {io Auckland, as I told youn the other {day, and then I and my bit of a {schooner wilj straight for |home, and I'll be there in time to welcome you," The Pearl Theft "Why not send the schooner on strilka from Auckland and come back here | yourself and go up with us on the yacht? suggested Mr. Garth. "That's awfully good of you™ said Rand warmly. "There's noth- ing I can think of that I would like better; in fact, to be perfectly hon- est, I was almost going to have the temerity to suggest it myself. Yes, indeed, I'll accept with the greatest pleasure. It would give me mpre time both here and in Auckland, and I half-promised a lecture in Mel- bourne which. ad "Settled!" said Mr. Garth, Humphrey "Cream and sugar, Mr. Rand?" asked Marion. "Clear, please," said Rand. "Any particular news?" Mr. Humphrey Garth nodded toward a newspaper protruding from Rand's pocket. "I see you've got a paper. I treated myself to a day off and I didn't go to the office today." "No," replied Rand; "no news of any particular moment except for a rather beastly affair up in the Taii- motu group. A couple of weeks old now--though the news is just in here. Trading boat brought it to i Fiji or some wireless station up north, I suppose." "What is it?" Garth, "Why," said Rand, 'a young Englishman by the name of Peter | Blake, a sort of beachcomber and general all-around waster, I take it from his description, murdered a planter he was working for and de- camped with a collection of pearls valued at a good many thousand pounds." In a strangely slow, tense way inquired Mr. I can't say I could ever work up | around after fossils, and digging | head- | "i fi Reduce the Fire Fends Yearly Hox Tie OT fire--but the CARELESSNESS which fails to quench it when its useful purpose has been served, is the ENEMY to mankind. He who by neg- lect causes fire in the forest may well expect the same treatment as weuld be accorded to one who tosses a match into a neighbour's haystack. Issued by Authority of Charles Stewart, Minister of the Interior, | if m | A A MM Ci We Lr de | ' PAGE SEVEN Mr. Humphrey Garth leaned for ward in his chair. . "And the planter's mame?" he asked in a low voice. "I think it was Murchison, said Rand. He pulled the newspaper out of his pocket and consulted it, "Yes, Murchison--Thomas Murchi= son." "Tom Murchison -- murdered!" Humphrey Garth's face had set in sharp lines. There was sudden in- tense bitterness in his eyes. His hands were tightly clenched on the arms of the chair, "Daddy Tom!" The words came in a low cry frony the other side of the table. Marion had risen from her chair and was standing there a very rigid little figure, very white of face. Herman Rand set down his tea- cup awkwardly as he looked from one td the other, ".'You--I--" he stumbled as awkwardly with his words--*"I am inexpressibly sorry that I should have brought this news. I--I see that it touches you both very close- ly. I had no idea "Let me see the paper," said Mr. Garth hoarsely. Mechanically Rand placed the newspaper in the other's hand. "Mr. Rand," sald Marion, and, in spite of an obvious effort to steady her voice, it broke a little, "you won't mind excusing me a little while, will you? This"--the tears were very near to the blue eyes, dimming them now--'this ig----"" She did not finish the sentence, Io Be Continued pt STAMP OUT CARELESSNESS