~ William Le Queux Copyright, 1924, dy The MoClure Newspaper syndicate % ous experience in Sofla, we were guests of some friends of Rayne's called Baynes, who lived at 'Bad: erby Manor, a few miles out of Win. chester. The reason of our visit was some- what obscure, yet as far as I could gather it had no connection with "business." So Rayne, Lola, and myself spent a very pleasant four days with one of the most charm- ing families I think I have ever met. Enderby was a beautiful old place lying back in a great park and sur- rounded by woods, half-way be- tween Winchester and Romsey, and George Gaynes, who had made a fortune in South America, and whose wife was a Brazilian lady, was a splendid host. One bright afternoon Rayne had gone off somewhere with Mr. Baynes, 'so I found Lola-and we both went for a stroll in the beautl- ful woods. For a long time we chatted mer- rily, when, of a suuden--I don't ex- actly know how it happened--but I took Hher hand, and, looking straight into her eyes, I declared my passion for her. x 1 must have taken her unawares, for she drew back with a strange, half-frightened expression. Her breath came and went In quick gasps, and when she found her tongue, she replied: "No, Geofge, It quite impossible!" "Why? I demanded quickly, 3 love you, Lola. Can you never re- ciprocate my affection?" She shook her head sadly, but still allowing me to hold her soft little hand. "You must not speak of love" she whispered. "You are an honest man who has been entrapped and compelled to act dishonestly as you do. I know {t all, alas! II know --* and she burst into tears. "I have discovered," she sobbed, "that my father is a thief!" "We cannot help that, Lola" 1 said, in deep sympathy at 'her dis- tress, "No. Unfortunately we can't," she replied faintly, in a voice full of emotion. "But it would be fatal to us both if we loved each other. Surely, George, you can see that!" "] don't see it, dearest" I ex- claimed, bending and kissing her fondly on the cheek for the first time. We had halted in the forest path, and now I held her in my arms, though she resisted slightly. "1 Jove you, darling!" I cried. "1 love you!" "Not No!" she protested: "You must not--you cannot love me. I am only the daughter of a man who, « at. any moment, might be arrested --a man for whom the police are ever in 'search, but cannot Sng" "1 know all that; but-you, - i. 45 not & thief!" I urged, for ny od her with ll the strength of my being---with all my soul. bled and sobbed, but aid not reply. Her tearful face was hidden upon my shoulder. "Do you care for me in the least?" whispered to her. "Tell me, dear, " Seve two months after that curi- is fmpossible-- - She was silent. 1 repeated my question, until at jast she raised her face 'to mine, and, though she did not speak, 1 knew with joy that her answer was in the afi. mative, And then I pour- ed out my secret to her, how ever since I had first seen her 1 had loved her to distraction; and how the knowledge that she reciprocated my affection had rendered me the plest man in the world, r a long time we remained lock- ed in each other's arms. How long 1 cannot tell. a "Suddenly, when she had dried her tears, she seemed full of apprehen- elon concerning my welfare, "Oht do be careful of yourself, George!" she cried. "I am ayways so anxious about you when you away, Father sends you on those and highly dangerous mi al care | Cham He placed his finger upon his lips silence. he dex naisalossy IX--The Man Who Was Shy "You will not. meet openly. When you've had your drink and he has seen you, you will drive a little way along the road and there await him, He does not wish to be seen with you, He's rather shy, you see!" and the pleasant-faced man who con- trolled the most dangerous cfiminal gang in Europe smiled sardonically. "He has his Intructions, and you will follow them. Take a sult-case with you, for you may be away a few days, or longer." I. wondered. what deviltry he had now planned. I tried to ebtain from him some further details, but bis replies were sharp and firm. "Act just as I've told you, Har- greave. And please don't be so in- fernally inquisitive." Then, wish- ing me good night, he turned and left my room. Next morning we left Enderby by train ahd returned to Overstow in the late afternoon. Duperre had gone up to Glasgow upon some mysterious business-- crooked without a doubt--so that night, after dining together, Rayne and I played a game of billiards. While we were smoking in the 1b- rary prior to turning in, the foot- man tapped at the door and entered with a note. Rayne tore it.open, and as he read it, I noticed that his countenance fell. A second later I saw that he was extremely annoyed. He rose from his chair and for a few moments hesitated. Then, in a rather thick voice, he sald: "Show him in." After the serv- ant had gone he turned to me, and in a changed voice sald: "Re- main here, George. But never breathe a word of what you hear to a living soul! Remember that!" In a few moments a well-dressed, narrow-faced, bald-headed, rather cadaverous man was shown in. He clicked his heels together and bowed |' with foreign politeness and with a smile upon his sinister countenance. "I have the honor to meet Signor Rayne?" he asked, with a distinct- ly Italian accent. "That is my name," replied Ru- dolph inquiringly. "Good! Then you will recognize me, and my name upon my letter in which I have asked for this pri- vate interview." "No, I certainly do not," he sald. "I have no knowledge of ever meet. ing you before!" "Then may I be permitted to re- mind you of our meeting at the Bris- tol Cafe, in -Copenhagen, on that July night two years ago, and what happened to Henri Gerard, the Mar- seilles shipowner, later that same night? True, we never spoke to- gether, for you posed as a stranger tomy friends. But you were point. ed out to me. You surely cannot ignore it?" "1 bave never been to Copenhagen in my life,' protested Rayne. "What do you " "The ; one that you know, well, signore, notwithstanding your denials. You are the man known as 'The Golden Face' declared the stranger bitterly, pointing his fin- ger at him. "You neither forget me nor my name, Luigi Gori, for you have much cause to remember it--you and your friend Stevenson, otherwise Duperre." ' Rayne turned furiously u visitor, and said: # Spon his "I am in no mood to discuss any- thing with you. So get out! You wished to see me privately, and I have granted you this interview. I don't know your name or your bus- Haat, nor do I want to know them! ou seem to be try to ¢ - quaintance with am go *Pardon me, but I do Signo: Rayne," laughed the Gk nrod -- "It has taken me two years to trace you, and at last Itfind you here! I Kune o this hour because I thought would find you apart from honorable family." a your "What rubbish are yo Semanded Rayne. ou ikng? "Rubbish!" echoed the strange: "I am talking no rubbish. I id simply reminding you of a very serious and secret matter, namely, the mysterious end of - Monsieur Gerard, of the Chateau du Sierros in the Jura, and of the Avenue des Elysees. The Surete, in com! tion with the Danish de- tective service, are still trying to clear up the affair. You and I can do it" he sald; and, after a pause, ning, and I played him a game at In impatient curiosity I waited until neft day, when, punctually at glx o'clock, Signor Gori was shown into a little room adjoining the great hall, and there I joined him in the capacity of a busy man's secretary. "1 much regret, Signor Gori" I said, after we had bowed, "but Mr. Rayne was called to London quite unazpectedly upon same very urgent & e pt polog! and asks whether you can manage to meet him in London when it is convenient to you. Will you tele- phone to him?™ And 1 gave him the address of Rayne's rooms. "His apologies!" echoed the Ital- ian, with a very marked accent and a gesture of ridicule. "The apolo- gles of "The Golden Face'! Ah! my dear friend, you are his secretary; I gealized that a big cloud of trouble had unexpectedly descended upon Overstow. When he had gone Rayne broke out into a furious ser ies of imprecations and vows of ven- geance upon some person whom he did not name, but whom he sus- pected of having made a faux pas. That night I scarcely closed my eyes in sleep. 'The Damoclean sword had apparently fallen upon the Squire of Overstow. And I recol- lected his daughter's warning. Next morning, directly after breakfast, which he ate with re- lish. I drove with him at his orders over to Heathcote Hall, about, five miles away, where lived Sir John- son Burnham, one of the old York- shire aristocracy, who was also chairman of quarter sessions. Jon She ok he principal in this I waited at the wheel while hel " _ . called. 1 knew that' the baronetl "Serious. How?" } asked in pre. Sas fot at home, as a week before |tense of ignorance, and hoping Lola had told me that he had gone. thereby tq learn something. ta San Remo. Nevertheless, Rayne| He looked at me strangely, and went inside, and was there quite |his manner changed. His dark eyes halt an hour. 1 was puzzled at his | seemed to search mine, and then absence, but the reason a | next t he smiled mysteriously. plain when the butler, bowing him "I will tell you the truth," he sald. out, exclaimed: "The redson is because I have un- "I am so sorry, Mr. Rayne, but wittingly--owing to a little lapse the telephone people are, I fear, very from the path of honesty--been slack in these days. I takes so long made one of the tools of this man to get a number." whose marvelous brain controls the So, Rayne had gone to Heathcote | Actions of dosens of the most un- in order to telephone to somébody in | scru and dangerous thieves on great urgenocy--somebody he dare | the Continent. My suspicions were not speak with from Overstow. aroused by something a woman told Fis we drove back again, Rayne{mse in Paris, and for many months I where I had a Wash and a sleép till oon, Then I went round to Half Moon Street, but found that Rayne was at the Automobile Club. I found hint there just as Ne was going In to lunch with two ladies whom I had never before seen. My presence seemed to afarm him, for with excuse he left the ladies and took me out into the big hall. There I told him of Gorl's visit of his threats, e laughed. "I only hope he will come and see "But some- how, I don't he willl You know now what fo do. Madame is alone at the Cariton and ready to accompany yeu. ~ I'm sorry I can't give you lunch, George, but I have two guests, I shall be anxious to know how you get on. Telephone to me in confidence after you've been in Ripley, won't you? Good- by." And he passed across the hall and rejoined his two smartly guests, crooks, like himself, I sup- posed. At half-past eight I called for Du- perre's wife at the hotel, and whe came down wearing a plain, dark- brown motor coat with a emall, close-fitting cap to match. She was, indeed, unusually dowdy in appear- i ance. We went through the crooked roads of Kingston and out through Surbiton towards Ditton. Presently I pulled up before the big old seventeenth-century posting- house in the long, quiet village of Ripley, once noted in the late Vie- torian crase of the "push-bike" as 7 7 pe . 4 "We'd better avoid the High Street of Guildford, for the police might possibly spot the car. So we'll go by the side roads. I was over theré three days ago on a motor-bike, so I pilot you" : And then he turned to gossip mer- rily with the good-looking American girl, who seemed most enthusiastic concerning our mysterious adven- ture. "To-night ought to bring us a clear twenty thousand pounds" he "But where are we going?" asked Duperre's wife, "Going to make an unexpected call upon old Bethmeyesn," she re- plied. "Bethmeyer!" I e ed. "What, old Sir Joseph Beth: , the mil- lionaire whom they call the mys- tery man of Europe, the man who is said to have a finger In every finan- cial ple all over Europe?" "Yes, I guess it's the same man," replied our eprightly companion. "He lives at Frenbury Park, a splen- did place between Hindhead and Farnham." ! 'What, I wonde: uld th - sibly want a ey meyer, thé man who had, it was said, been behind the ex-Emperor Carl in his endeavor to regain the throne of the Hapsburgs, and who was declared to be immensely wealthy, though the source of his great riches could never be discov- ered, We drove nearly to Petersfield, and it was considerable past mid- night when, on our return, we de- scended that long hill which leads from Hjndhead. Then, after turning off the main road for some time, we came to a narrow lane, which led into a dark wood, where Houston suddenly stopped me and ordered me to switch out the lights. Scarcely had I done this when two men emergéd mysteriously from shadow, and one of them, re Houston, said: "You're pretty punctual, Teddy! Sam isn't here yet. He's walking from Haslemere." "Nol he's here all right!" ex- claimed a voice clearly in the dark- ness, as a third man came forward. "May is in the car," Houston ex- plained. "Is everything ready?" "Yes; when you get along here fitty yards more you can see the is 7 EL i: : 3 st | fl ¥ il i Feel i it tt i ii men, What was intended I could not guess. We had broken into one of the most magnificent houses in Eng- land, and no doubt an extensive bur- glary had been planned. I waited in the big, dark room for nearly twenty minutes, when sud- oped in black firmly with stout rope. "gay, are you all right, Mr. Har greave?" inquired the American girl. upon she whispered: "Good! right along. It's worked beautifully. The old boy started up to see me at his bedside, and put on his dressing- hearrd. I told him I was h and he took mie into his study. We had drinks, and I put him g to' sleep Ww. couplé of drops of the rup.. When he comés to himself he'll have the shock of his life. Six months ago in Philadelphia --when I wanted some money---he defied me. Now it will cost the old skinflint a very big sum if he wants to see the light of day again! If he won't pay up, well, we are none the worse off, are we?" A quarter of an hour later they had placed the unconscious. form of Sir Joseph in the car, and, bidding farewell to the three stalwart men, who were, no doubt, professional thieves ' from London, we - started back swiftly through Farnham and Aldershot, thence by way of Reading and along the Bath Road to a lonely house somewhere outside Hounslow, where the American girl sto me: There are unconscious j was carried in, and while thers re- mained in the house--which 1 think had been taken furnished and spe- wd for the purpose--1 was or- a to return to London alone, which I did, most thankful to end that exciting night's adventure. - . . . * On my return to the garage off the Tottenham Court Road at half- past three in the morning, the man on duty told me that a man's voice had inquired for me about nine «o'clock. "He seemed very anxious indeed to find you. But he told me to give you a number--number ninety-nine! Sounds like a doctor, eh, sir?" re- marked the man, I stood aghast at the message. "Are you sure that was the num- ber?" I asked "Yes, sir. I wrote it down here. He gave a Mayfair telephone num- ber," and he showed me the note he bad made. It was a message from Rayne! That number was the one agreed upon by all. of ts as a signal that some extreme danger had occurred, and it became necessary for us all to the car and' drove out again, not knowing In Oxford Street, at that hour silent and deserted, I drew * and, placing it in a small envelope which I fortunately, found in my wallet, I addressed it to Madame Duperre, and left it with the night porter at the Carlton, urg- ing him to give it to her immediately, on her return. * ; Then I drove to the Strand tele- Scarborough, telling her to meet me without fail at the Station Hotel at 3 ' AP PENONEAIREY 3 2g ep eel - Si