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Roy Glashan's Library
Non sibi sed omnibus
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do not download or redistribute this file.
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'A CONVICT escaped to-day from Dartmoor,' came the voice of the radio announcer. Janice Pelton dropped her book on her lap and listened eagerly. Even her husband, busy polishing something with a piece of chamois leather, turned to listen.
The voice went on: 'He was one of the breakfast orderlies who rise early to serve the meal for the other prisoners and it is believed that he climbed the sixteen foot wall that surrounds the prison yard at about five a.m. At any rate it was home time before his escape was discovered. His name is Kerry, and he is known as Red Kerry from the colour of his hair. He was serving a five year sentence for burglary with violence.'
'Burglary with violence,' repeated Janice, who was a slim, upright little woman with fair hair and brilliantly blue eyes. 'Oh, Bill, and you still have the medal in the house. Why in the world didn't you put it in the bank as I asked you?'
'Don't worry, old thing,' said Bill indulgently. 'Red Kerry isn't coming to Narracombe. The odds are he has already stowed away in a goods train on his way to Bristol or London.'
'You can't possibly tell,' his wife retorted. 'Why, only last year a convict broke into a house at Postbridge and frightened an old woman nearly out of her wits.'
'We'll lock up good and tight tonight, Janice,' Bill promised.
Janice was not consoled.
'I shan't sleep a wink,' she declared. 'That medal it too valuable in a lonely house like this.'
'But no one knows about it,' Bill replied.
'Hugh Scovell knows and you have not forgotten how angry he was that Uncle Godfrey left it to you instead of him. And I'm quite sure that fat, dark man who came here in the big car and asked if we had any old prints to sell was after it.'
'Fact is, I hate to have it out of my sight, darling. Isn't it a lovely thing?' asked Bill enthusiastically holding out a large medal of solid gold.
On one side was shown the British lion at the throat of the Indian tiger; on the obverse was a beautiful little engraving of the city of Seringapatam. This was the Seringapatam gold medal of which only five or six cast. It had been awarded to Bill's great great grandfather who had been a general in the East India Company's service, and was Bill's proudest possession.
Janice barely glanced at it. 'Lock it up, Bill, at once.'
Bill rather reluctantly put the medal back into its case, placed the case carefully in the top right-hand drawer of his desk, locked the drawer and put the key in his pocket.
NARRACOMBE, the Pelton's home, stood in the valley of the West
Dart. It was a pleasant little house with some sixty acres of
grazing and quite a good garden. Bill and his wife were both
country folk sand the place suited them perfectly. It had been
left to them by Bill's uncle, Godfrey Pelton, together with the
land, and the furniture, and a nice little income of £500 a
year.
Hugh Scovell, Bill's bachelor cousin, who lived a dozen miles away, inherited £10,000, so it would seem he had not much to complain of. But because he was older than Bill and because he had a greedy disposition he was much annoyed that Bill had been left the family heirlooms. Bill disliked him cordially, and saw as little of him as possible.
The Peltons' servants were a married couple, Frank and Annie French, Frank worked on the farm and garden, Annie in the house. They lived in a cottage at some little distance from the house.
The wireless news ceased, to be followed by dance music.
'I'm going to bed, Bill' Janice continued. 'Mind you see to all the doors and windows. Specially those at the back of the house.'
'Right you are,' said Bill. 'I'll have my nightcap, then I'll come up.'
As Janice left, Bill mixed a whisky and soda, drank it slowly, then, pipe hi mouth, went round the ground door, seeing to doors and windows. Last of all he came to the front door, which opened into the hall sitting-room. It was his habit to have a look at the weather last thing sit night. He opened the door and glanced up at the sky, but there, was not much to be seen, for the night was cloudy and exceedingly dark. As he turned to come in again he heard a movement close by.
Then it seemed to him as if the roof had fallen on his head and for some time earthly affairs ceased to interest him. When he came to himself he was sitting in his own chair, tied hand and foot and gagged with a handkerchief. His head ached so abominably that it was difficult to open his eyes. When at last he managed to do so the first thing he saw was a man busy opening the drawers of his desk. The light was poor for there was no electricity in Narracombe and Bill had left only one small lamp burning, yet this was enough to show Bill that the intruder wore a badly made, very muddy grey suit and that his hair was of the colour commonly known as 'carrots.' Red Kerry without doubt, and Bill groaned as he realised that Janice had been right and he wrong. Now the fellow had his keys and would get not only the money in the desk—a matter of five or six pounds—but also the medal.
The convict heard the groan and chuckled callously.
'Groan as much as you please,' he remarked. 'It won't do me no harm. And don't worry about your woman. She ain't hurt but she's locked in her room. As he spoke he found the medal.
'Lumme, here's a bit o' luck,' he continued as he weighed it in his hand. 'Twenty quids worth o' gold.' He thrust it, and the money into his pocket. 'Now I'll 'ave a drink and a mouthful o' grub and a suit o' your clothes, and push along. Your folk'll loose you in the morning.'
As Red turned Bill noticed that he had a handkerchief tied across the lower part of his face. Did the fellow really imagine that disguise of that sort was any good? His hair alone identified him. It nearly broke Bill's heart to think that the brute would almost certainly melt down that priceless medal. Nor was it any help to think how Janice would reproach him. Though she wouldn't say so. Janice was just as proud as Bill himself of the heirloom. And Bill, gagged as he was, could not even remonstrate with the thief.
It was at this moment that Bill say the front door being pushed quietly open. Bill's heard gave a jump. This must be a warder, for no one else would be about at this time of night. The medal would be saved after all.
It wasn't a warder. The head that poked in was covered with the Tam O'Shanter cap that convicts wear and the hair beneath it was almost scarlet. As for the face, it was the grimmest Bill had ever sighted and was not improved by thick red stubble on cheeks and chin and a huge smear of black peaty mud across the forehead. A second convict was the double of the first. Bill began to doubt his sanity.
The newcomer saw Bill and gave him one quick stare, then his greenish eyes settled on the first lag with an expression of such ferocity as made Bill's blood chill. Busy with the whisky decanter, and with his back turned, lag Number One had not yet seen Number Two. Nor had he heard the door open.
'Oo are you?' remarked Number Two in a deep, harsh voice and as the first lag whirled the other was on him. Number One ducked, dodged and made desperately, for the open door. He hadn't a hope. The second man caught him before he could reach it, tripped him, and the two went to the floor together with a thump that made the lamp flame jump and shook the whole house.
'Open up!' demanded Number Two, but, since he had the other by the throat, the only answer was a despairing gurgle. Bill was nearly frantic. Janice would be scared to death. She would, of course, think that he—Bill—was the victim. He struggled furiously to free himself, but the only result was to upset his chair and land himself on the floor with a force that nearly knocked his remaining senses out of him.
He had just enough left to realize that Convict Number Two had choked the other into insensibility and was going through his pockets. First he found the money which clearly gave him great satisfaction, then he discovered the medal. He looked at is a moment with evident interest, then shook his head and flung it on the table.
'I ain't taking no medals, mister,' he said to Bill, then seeing Bill's predicament, he got up, strode across and lifted him and the chair together. His strength was enormous.
Then he ripped away Bill's gag.
'I dunno 'oo this bloke is,' he said. He showed large white teeth in a fierce grin. 'Now I wants grub and a change. Tell me where I can get 'em and I'll turn you loose afore I goes.'
'Food in the kitchen. Clothes in the left hand room at the top of the stairs. And, Red, my wife's locked in the bedroom on the opposite side of the passage. Tell her I'm all right, will you?'
'I'll let her out,' Red promised and hurried into the back of the house to find the promised food. He looked as if he needed it.
The passage door had hardly closed behind him before the front door opened for a third time, and Bill could hardly believe his eyes when he saw Janice hurry in, followed by a prison officer.
'Oh, Bill, has he hurt you?' Janice cried as she flung her arms round her husband. The guard was gazing at the man on the floor.
'Looks as if this is the chap who's got hurt,' he said drily. Then for the first time he spotted that Bill was tied. He looked amazed but had sense left to produce a knife and cut the cords.
'Don't ask me,' Bill answered his inevitable question. 'I went outside on to the porch, got knocked on the head, and when I came round I was tied up like this. Someone must have come in while I was asleep and laid that blighter out. Was it another warder?'
The man shook his head.
'It weren't no-one from the prison,' he replied. 'It couldn't be. I'm the only one within two miles. Your lady, she got out the window and found me on Huccaby bridge and fetched me.'
'That was splendid of you, Janice,' said Bill, so warmly that Janice blushed.
The officer went on, 'Well, I've got my chap and if you're all right, I'll take him back where he belongs. They'll be pleased to see him. May I borrow your car, sir? I'll take good care of it, and you shall have it again in the morning.'
'Certainly,' said Bill promptly.
A FEW minutes later he and Janice watched the tail light of
the car disappear up the steep road. Then Bill began to chuckle.
The chuckle became a laugh, the laugh a roar.
Janice shook him.
'Bill, don't be so aggravating! Stop it. What are you laughing about? What really happened?'
'It—it wasn't Red at all,' gurgled Bill. 'It—it was Hugh.'
'Hugh—Hugh Scovell?'
'Nobody else. And—that guard didn't know him. Thinks he's Red Kerry. He—Hugh will have a grand time, explaining. In fact, I don't see how he can explain. And I'm sure I'm not going to do it for him.'
He went off again, laughing till tears ran down his cheeks. Janice at last was beginning to understand.
'You mean to tell me that Hugh dressed up as a convict and wore a red wig in order to steal the medal?'
'That's it, old thing. He must have planned it the minute he heard.'
'But—who—who knocked him out?' demanded Janice.
'The real Red! You ought to have seen him. And the real Red is a sportsman. Janice. He wouldn't take the medal, and he pulled the gag out of my mouth and promised to let you loose. He'd have done it, too, I'm sure.'
'Where is he now?' asked Janice.
'A mile away by this time, I expect. Good luck to him, say I.'
Then at last Janice laughed. 'I hope so, too,' she declared. 'But Bill, to-morrow, as soon as you get the car, that medal goes to the bank in Plymouth.'
'It does,' said Bill. 'And you come too, and we'll celebrate. After all, it was you who really turned the trick.'
Roy Glashan's Library
Non sibi sed omnibus
Go to Home Page
This work is out of copyright in countries with a copyright
period of 70 years or less, after the year of the author's death.
If it is under copyright in your country of residence,
do not download or redistribute this file.
Original content added by RGL (e.g., introductions, notes,
RGL covers) is proprietary and protected by copyright.