The Shadow of Larose

I—Red Death.-2

"I can't ask you to a meal at home," he said, "for there's no one at present living in the house but me. My people are on holiday in Sydney and I've had to batch by myself. For more than a fortnight I have been getting all my tucker outside."

Young Binks's father was well off, and the house we drove to was a large one in a good neighborhood. The motor cycle was in the garage at the bottom of the garden, and he soon had it out and was pointing out the great bargain that it was.

"It wants cleaning, of course," he remarked apologetically, "and it wants tuning up, too. I haven't ridden it for nearly six months. But you can do everything easily enough yourself; I know you used to run a motor bike."

I looked over the machine and saw at once that it was a real bargain at twenty pounds.

"I'll take it," I said, "and thank you very much, Teddy. I'll send you the money within three months. But it wants a bit of attention, as you say, and if I'm going touring with it, I must see it's all O.K. Now I've no convenience at all at my digs to do anything to it, so do you mind if I leave it here to-night and come round and put in a couple of hours to-morrow, first thing, directly it gets light?"

"Certainly," said Teddy heartily, "and you can use anything you want in the garage, too. Dad thinks he's a bit of a mechanic. He's put up that lathe there and he's got all sorts of tools. But you needn't make it a break-of-day business." he laughed. "You come here to-morrow whenever you like. I'm catching the East-West express then at ten, but that needn't make any difference to you, for I'll give you the key of the garage, and you can slip it under the front door of the house when you've done. Mum and dad won't be back for three weeks, and they are expecting to find it there when they return. But we'll have a drink now to the success of both our adventures."

And then commenced a series of small happenings, each one small and insignificant in itself, but each and every one of them to make for me, in later years, all the difference between being a free and happy man—or maybe—a wretched prisoner doing penal servitude in the prison of the State.

To begin with, Teddy couldn't find a corkscrew to open the bottle of wine that he had brought out from his house, and in trying to open it in the less approved fashion of knocking off the neck, he broke the bottle and its entire contents were spilled upon the garage floor. Thereupon, determined not to omit the drinking of a farewell toast, he would insist on us going out to an Hotel and it ended in us stopping on there to dinner.

The dinner was a good one, and after a bottle of wine we were in no particular hurry to move on. Instead, we sat talking in the lounge until quite late, and interesting himself in my holiday, Teddy wanted to know all about where I was going. I told him I was going after gold and had intended to prospect among the Adelaide hills, but now with the possession of a motor cycle, I thought I should go further afield.

"That's right," commented Teddy enthusiastically, "try the Flinders Range beyond Port Augusta or else the country off the Broken Hill line, about Waukaringa. It's all very well saying every inch of that ground has been already gone over. That counts for nothing, for a heavy shower of rain may any day expose a new reef cropping up to the surface. But you ought to have a good equipment and take plenty of grub if you're going away from the townships."

I laughed and replied that I had been on the job before and always travelled light. A blanket, a ground sheet, a billy-can, a water bag, and a small .22 rifle were the chief items of my equipment, and I never went very far away from places where I could get food.

We didn't leave the hotel until nearly eleven, and finally it was past midnight when I had turned out my light and got into bed. Never at any time a good sleeper, late hours always mean for me an uncomfortable night, and it was again so with me, then. It must have been nearly four o'clock before I dropped off to sleep, but then I slept heavily and to my consternation did not wake up until the clock of the Town Hall was striking nine.

I was in a fine state of mind. I had intended to be at Teddy's before six, and start off from my rooms on the motor cycle, at latest, by about ten. Now, it would be midday or even later before I could get away, and it would make a lot of difference to the itinerary I had mapped out.

I dressed hurriedly and then an idea struck me. To save time, I would load up my luggage and go down to Teddy's with it all packed on the push bike. Then when I was ready I could start away on the motor cycle direct from there, for if Teddy were giving me the key, I could leave the push bike in the garage until after I returned from the holiday. There was also an added inducement to me in this plan. The landlady of my rooms was a very inquisitive woman, and she would not then have to speculate as to in what way I had so suddenly become the possessor of a motor cycle. She knew I had not been particularly flush of money of late, for once recently, after a bad day at the races, I had had to let my weekly account stand over, and she had been impertinently curious why. I had cursed myself at the time, for I hated people prying into my affairs.

I had a snatch at breakfast, and got down to Teddy's just in time to bid him good-bye. Then I started at once upon the motor cycle, but soon found that it wanted much more to put it in condition than he had told me. To begin with I couldn't get the engine to fire at all first, and I rushed it up and down the drive until I was red in the face, much to the amusement of a grinning painter working upon the roof of the house next door. The fellow was so interested that finally I became annoyed and took the bike round to the other side of the garage, where he could not see what was going on.

The engine was horribly dirty, and I quickly came to the conclusion that if I were going to start off upon my journey with any feeling of security I must take the whole thing down and thoroughly overhaul it.

I worked hard without a break until well into the afternoon, and then at 4 o'clock, beginning to feel hungry I knocked off to go and get something to eat. To my annoyance, too, I had to go into the city to buy two new inner tubes. The ones then on the bike were patched all over and beyond safety.

After my meal I went into a motor cycle shop in Rundle-street to get the inner tubes, and then occurred the second of those trivial happenings that were to make all the difference to my life in after years.

I was just coming out of the shop after having got what I wanted, when I saw one of the city detectives that I knew passing by. He was Ferguson, and a cousin of one of the clerks in our bank. I knew his work took him all over the State, and I thought it would be a good thing to ask him now which was the best road to take for Port Augusta. I nipped after him and had almost reached him when he suddenly dashed across the road to catch a newsboy, who was crying the afternoon papers.

"Entries for the Christmas Cup," was shouting the boy, "All the winners at Moonee Valley."

It was too much bother to follow across the road, and so I let the detective go, but—upon what small things do great ones depend.

Had Mr. Detective Alan Ferguson, at about 4.30 that afternoon not been so keen on learning the entries for the Adelaide Christmas Cup, or so anxious either to know what horses had won at Moonee Valley, I might have cross-examined him about the road to Port Augusta, and in consequence, two weeks later, he might have been well on his way to his inspectorship.

But there—that is what chance is.

It was past 7 before I had finally got the motor cycle to my satisfaction, and was washing my hands in the garage sink. I was intending to go back at once to my rooms, and after a good night's rest make a very early start in the morning, when suddenly I thought of a new plan.

I would not waste another hour of my holiday. I would start off with a long night ride. Would do the 200 odd miles to Port Augusta in the dark.

I considered for a few moments. It had been nearly a full moon when I was arriving at my rooms the previous night. Well and good. It would be moonlight again to-night. I would take the road straight away, and be in Port Augusta before the morning came.

Ah! but I was not too sure of the road, and it was too late now to buy a map. I looked at my watch. The public library was still open, however, and I could go there and work out my route.

Finally, it was exactly 20 minutes past 9 when I locked the garage door and rode off into the night. The moon had not yet risen.

Thus I left Adelaide in the darkness, and as I threaded my way along the by-streets to strike the Great North road, it happened that no one noted my going, and upon no one's memory was recorded the beginning of that journey that in so few hours only was to set the whole State of South Australia in such a fever of excitement, and for me, threaten so many anxious weeks, with the penalty of penal servitude, or worse still—perhaps with the horror of a shameful death.

I intended making for the mountain ranges beyond Port Augusta, and for most of the 200 miles my way would lie along the side of the gulf, giving me an easy and comfortable journey.

A score or so of miles to the north of the city of Adelaide, and the made roads begin to fade quickly into roads or tracks. The middle of the highway may in some parts be macadamised, but on either side, and often at a lower level, stretch the natural earth roads or dirt tracks. And in fine weather, for the motorist, these dirt tracks surely constitute one of the most glorious highways in all the world.

They are as soft as velvet on the surface, and yet there is the feeling of a hardness, as of glass, underneath, and to the ardent speedster it is an ecstacy to follow along their curves. But in wet weather, and indeed even after a little rain, it is quite another story, and then woe betide the unwary motorist who ventures upon them.

That night they were in their most perfect condition, and I shall never forget my ride. Looking back, I see it was like a delicious and entrancing overture preceding the rising of a curtain for the presentation of a dark and dreadful drama.