The Motor Pirate

by G. Sidney Paternoster

  CHAPTER XIX

  A HOT SCENT

  I RAN on through the night, but I could not make any great progress. Iwas now involved in a maze of Essex bye-roads, totally unknown to me,and every few minutes I was compelled to dismount, and search for thetracks. I never lost them, however, until I came once more to ahigh-road. The curve of the tyre marks at the junction of the road gaveme the direction I needed, and, letting my car go, in four or fiveminutes I found myself running into the electric-lighted streets of atown. The place was deserted, but eventually I found a policeman, and ofhim I inquired whether anything had been seen or heard of the Pirate.There was no need for me to describe the appearance of the pirate car.It was as well-known throughout the land, as the Lord Mayor's coach, buthe had seen nothing of it, and was quite positive that it had not passedthrough the town. An ordinary car had passed about half an hour beforemy arrival, and though the constable's description of the car was notvery lucid, it was sufficiently near the mark to make me think ofMannering.

  "I fancy the man you describe is a friend of mine," I said. "Whichdirection did he take?"

  "He went straight along the Colchester road," was the astonishing reply.

  "The Colchester road?" I inquired. "What town is this, then?"

  "This is Chelmsford, sir," he answered, with a surprise equalling myown.

  I could see my unguarded question had awakened his suspicions of me, soI made haste to remark that I had not realized how quickly I hadtravelled, adding that I might have known there was no other town of thesize thereabouts.

  "I am afraid," I added, "that if you had met me outside the borough youwould have had a case for the Bench in the morning."

  "I don't take no heed of speed myself, sir, when the roads is clear," heremarked; "but when the traffic's thick, it's another matter."

  I thought his sound common sense deserved a reward. Anyway it got one,and with a cheerful good night, I set my car going at a pace which mademe hope that any other constable I chanced to meet would prove asintelligent as he from whom I had just parted. It is about twenty-twomiles from Chelmsford to Colchester, and, in spite of the greasy stateof parts of the road, I managed the distance in thirty minutes.

  Every one of those minutes I expected to be able to overtake Mannering;but I saw nothing of him, and by the time I came to Colchester, I beganto fancy that he must have given me the slip at some bye-road. From myinquiries at Colchester, I learned, however, that I was still on theright scent; but I was mightily puzzled to discover that though he wasdriving the old car which he had always declared was unable to compassmore than twelve or fourteen miles an hour, he was still half an hourahead of me.

  He was still going away from town, and I followed. There is no need forme to give in any detail particulars of my journey that night. Day wasbreaking when I came into Ipswich, and it was broad daylight when Ipassed through the long, untidy street of Wickham Market. Manneringstill kept ahead, and I followed doggedly. I heard of him at Saxmundham,but when I inquired at Blythburgh, I found I had missed him, and I hadto hark back to Yoxford before I got on his track again. He had takenthe side route to Halesworth, through which he had passed in thedirection of Beccles. By this time he was an hour ahead of me, and, ashe had left Beccles by the Yarmouth road, I went ahead as fast as Idared. It was not quite my highest speed, for by this time I was bothtired and hungry, and the strain of travelling over unknown roads at ahigh speed at night made my head swim. I knew that unless I could soonget food and rest I should soon be fit for nothing. So immediately Ireached Yarmouth, I went to a hotel, ordered breakfast, indulged in ahot bath while it was preparing, and went to sleep in my chair directlyI had eaten the meal.

  The waiter awakened me about ten. I went down to the beach and indulgedin a swim, and, returning to the hotel, amazed the waiter by orderingand doing justice to a second breakfast before taking my departure.

  On leaving the hotel, my first consideration was to get my tankrefilled, and, that done, I sent off a couple of wires, one to Evie andthe other addressed to Forrest, at my own place, telling each of them tocommunicate with me at Sutgrove Hall if anything happened, for it was myintention to call at my home if I could possibly manage to do so.

  My next business was to search for traces of Mannering in Yarmouth, butit was some time before I ascertained that the man I imagined to be he,had left by the coast road through Caister. It was a tedious job totrack him through the Norfolk lanes, for he had turned and doubled as ifanxious to throw a pursuer off the scent, and it was one o'clock beforeI eventually struck the high-road between Norwich and Cromer. There Ifinally lost him, owing chiefly to the fact that the day was fine, and alarge number of motor-cars were on the road in consequence.

  By this time I was beginning to think my impulsive action to be morethan a little foolish, but in order that my journey should not bealtogether wasted, I determined to run on to Cromer, lunch there, andafterwards proceed to Sheringham, near which delightful village my homewas situated, and seize the opportunity to make arrangements with myaunt for Evie's visit.

  In pursuance of this plan, in half an hour's time, I walked into thedining-room of the Royal Hotel at Cromer. You may judge of my surprisewhen I saw Mannering seated at a table at one of the windows. Heobserved my entrance, and, rising, greeted me heartily.

  "Hullo, Sutgrove!" he said. "This is indeed a welcome surprise. I hadnot the slightest idea you were in this part of the country."

  "If you had, I presume you would not have chosen it for the scene ofyour exploits," I replied.

  The expression of astonishment which spread over his features at myrejoinder was so perfect that I felt all my suspicions begin to crumbleaway.

  "I don't follow you," he remarked.

  His manner was either the result of one of the best pieces of acting Ihad ever seen in my life, or due to absolute unconsciousness of mymeaning. It made me remember that though there were undoubtedlysuspicious circumstances connecting him with the Motor Pirate, yet sofar there was not one iota of direct evidence. I thought it best totemporize.

  "Oh," I remarked; "I was only referring to your attempts to cut therecords with your old car."

  He smiled calmly before replying. "You may be nearer the truth than youthink. I've had a new motor fixed in the car--an idea of my own, and Ifind she travels at quite a decent pace. That's why I left home lastnight. After the rain I thought the roads would certainly be clearenough to give me the opportunity of making a fair test. The engine is amodel of the one I have designed for the new car which I mentioned--lastnight was it? No; the night before."

  I was fairly staggered at his assurance. His demeanour was entirelywithout the suggestion of his being in any way aware that he was anobject of suspicion.

  "Were you not afraid of meeting the Pirate? I heard he was abroad lastnight," I said.

  "Afraid!" he remarked witheringly. "Afraid! All I am afraid of is, thatsome of your Scotland Yard friends will be beforehand with me in hiscapture, and that is an adventure which has a particular appeal to me,since he left his mark upon me here." He tapped his shouldersignificantly. "I have promised myself to repay this injury withinterest."

  "Well, I suppose we are as likely to meet him here as anywhere," Iventured to remark.

  "I hope so," he answered. "But I am not stopping here for long. I'vetaken a bed for the night, because I feel confoundedly tired after lastnight's run. But what brings you down here? Are you motoring?"

  "In the first place I wanted a word with you," I replied.

  "With me?" The amazement in his voice was obvious.

  "Yes," I said; "that is my principal object."

  "But how did you discover my address? I left no word with any one."

  "I'll tell you later," I said.

  "Well, we have plenty of time to talk," he replied. "If there's anylittle difficulty in which I can be of any assistance, I need hardlyassure you I am at your service. But hadn't you better have lunchfirst?" He lowered the tone of his voice. "Unless you wish the waiter
sto become acquainted with your affairs, I should think what you have tosay could be much better said outside. Neither pier nor esplanade aremuch frequented at this time of the year."

  The suggestion was so natural and reasonable that, after a moment'sconsideration, I decided to accept it.

  All through the meal he chatted as easily as if there was not theslightest possibility of anything happening to interrupt the friendshipwhich had always ostensibly existed between us. The longer we talked,the more puzzled I became. His manners were so natural, so fearless,that it was quite impossible for me to believe that I was sitting atlunch with the Motor Pirate. He was very curious to know how I hadlearned of his intention to come to Cromer, and I was induced to tellhim of my experiences on the previous night. I watched his face keenlywhile I narrated the stories of the Pirate's victims. He listened quitegravely, not even the ghost of a smile crossing his face when I told himof the ludicrous pictures presented by the old lady and her twoservants.

  "It is no laughing matter," he observed. "The rascal was bad enough whenhe confined his attentions to men; but now he has taken to bestowingthem upon women, he deserves no mercy, and when I am able to get uponhis track, he will get none."

  "Then you are really hoping to join in the hunt?" I asked.

  "Yes," he said. "I'll let you into my secret. At my place at St.Stephens, I had a car which only wanted one minor detail to make itcomplete. I have known for months, that if I could supply that detail, Ishould be in possession of a car which would outpace even the Pirate's.For months I've racked my brains over it. A week ago an idea occurred tome. I worked it out. I tried it for the first time last night. It hasproved to be a success. The day after to-morrow I shall join in thepursuit of the Motor Pirate, so if your Scotland Yard friend does notmake haste, he will be too late."

  "What power do you propose to use?" I asked. "Petrol?"

  He laughed before replying. "A month ago I would have told nobody; butto-day there is no need of secrecy; my drawings are all ready fordeposit at the Patent Office, so there is no chance of any oneforestalling me."

  "Well, what is it?" I said.

  "I don't want you to tell anybody else just yet," he said; and as Inodded my acquiescence, he continued, "My new motor is on an entirelynovel principle. It is a turbine engine, worked by the expansion ofliquid hydrogen."

  "What?" I gasped. The idea was so novel that I could not grasp it. Helifted his hand, checking the questions which started to my lips.

  "No. No questions, if you please: because, if you ask any, I shall notanswer them. Meanwhile, you have not yet told me how you learned of mypresence here?"

  I related how, in the course of my inquiries at Chelmsford, I hadascertained that a person so like himself had passed through the town,that I had determined to attempt to overtake him, little thinking thechase would prove so stern.

  He chaffingly congratulated me on my tracking powers, and expressedregret that I had not made my appearance earlier, so that we might havearranged a race; and by the time we had finished lunch, I was ascompletely convinced as I had ever been of anything in my life, that hehad no connection whatsoever with the Pirate. Still, I was none the lessdetermined to tackle him upon the subject of the influence which Eviedeclared he exerted over her, so when the meal was over, we left thehotel together and, seeing from the front that the pier was practicallydeserted, I led the way to the far end, determined to have a completeexplanation.

  He was silent during our walk. So was I, for I was deliberating how bestto introduce the subject. As it happened, he made the task easy for me,as after finding a comfortable seat and lighting a cigarette, he turnedto me with--

  "Now, old fellow, what is it you have on your mind? Out with it!"

  I told him--told him fully and frankly everything that Evie hadmentioned to me concerning him, and I finished by warning him that I wasdetermined to exercise the right she had given me to protect her. Helistened to me attentively and, one might have thought, evensympathetically. When I had concluded, he sat silent awhile; then,looking me full in the eyes, he remarked--

  "I suppose, Sutgrove, if I tell you that this story of the influence Iam supposed to exercise over Miss Maitland is absolute news to me, youwill not believe me?"

  I was staggered, and my astonishment must have been visible in my face,for he continued--

  "You may be surprised, but not half so much as I have been, by what youhave told me. Really, the whole story sounds the maddest farrago ofnonsense I have ever heard."

  I was about to make an angry retort, but he checked me with a gesture--

  "I do not mean any offence," he said; "for I can quite understand whatyour feelings on the subject must be. I, no more than yourself, wouldtolerate any unwarrantable interference such as you describe. It is justas well that you should have mentioned the matter to me, however, foryou will know so much better how to proceed."

  "What do you mean?" I gasped.

  "Why, what else than that you will not waste any time before obtainingmedical advice for Miss Maitland," he replied.

  I felt a grey horror creeping over me--a horror that tied my tongue, tothink that Evie--my Evie--might prove to be--mad. Again, he must havedivined my thoughts, for he said reassuringly--

  "You must not take too serious a view of the case. Miss Maitland is of ahighly nervous temperament, and, I should imagine, rather prone tohysteria." Then, rising, he clapped me on the shoulder, "Take a cheerfulview, Sutgrove. I'll bet you ten to one that her doctor will inform youthat marriage will provide a complete cure."

  His tone was so hearty, so friendly, that I instinctively grasped hishand, and he returned my grip.

  The subject was not resumed; and, as we walked back to the hotel, I wascompletely convinced that I had been an unutterable cad ever to allow asingle doubt concerning him to enter my mind, much less to harbourthere.

  I left him at the hotel door and went in search of my car to continue myjourney to Sutgrove Hall. He was still standing where I parted from himwhen I swept past, and he waved his hand to me, a smile upon his face.