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Language: English
SINCLAIR'S LUCK
"School! School!"
Sydney Horler
Trapped in Tripoli!
Tom Bevan
Sinclair's Luck!
Percy F. Westerman
SINCLAIR'S LUCK
A STORY OF ADVENTURE IN
EAST AFRICA
BY
PERCY F. WESTERMAN
AUTHOR OF
"BILLY BARCROFT, OF THE R.N.A.S."
"THE DREADNOUGHT OF THE AIR,"
"THE RIVAL SUBMARINES," ETC., ETC.
{Illustration: logo}
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE TWO CHUMS 9
II. "MEETING THE CASE" 18
III. FAREWELL 25
IV. "REGARDLESS OF THE RISK" 30
V. IN THE DITCH—AND OUT 41
VI. VAN DER WYCK'S GIFT 49
VII. DETAINED AT CAPE TOWN 54
VIII. HELD UP 59
IX. ROBBERY UNDER ARMS 66
X. THE MOUNTAIN TRACK 71
XI. AT THE EDGE OF THE CHASM 80
XII. BESET BY LIONS 86
XIII. THE MORNING AFTER 94
XIV. BY VIRTUE OF THE TALISMAN 99
XV. AT KILEMBONGA 106
XVI. SIBENGA'S ENVOYS 112
XVII. THE PLAGUE OF LOCUSTS 121
XVIII. THE AMBUSH 130
XIX. HOTLY PURSUED 138
XX. NIPPED IN THE BUD 144[
XXI. THE OTHER VAN DER WYCK 153
XXII. PALAVER 160
XXIII. THE BULL ELEPHANT 167
XXIV. A LUCKY SHOT 175
XXV. MISSING 182
XXVI. A DOUBTFUL CLUE 188
XXVII. THE RAVING OF THE WITCH- 195
DOCTOR
XXVIII. KIDNAPPED 206
XXIX. IN THE HANDS OF THE 212
MAKOH'LENGA
XXX. TO WHAT END 221
XXXI. THE GOLDEN IMAGE 229
XXXII. AT THE FATAL MOMENT 238
XXXIII. WHERE THE GOLD WENT 244
XXXIV. EXPLANATIONS AND SURPRISES 248
Illustrations
Facing
page
"SUDDENLY DESMOND FELL WITH A Frontispiece
LOUD THUD"
"HE FIRED TWO SHOTS IN QUICK 42
SUCCESSION"
"HIS FOOT CAUGHT IN THE TRAILING 174
TENDRIL AND HE CRASHED HEAVILY"
"WE'VE DONE IT, BY JOVE!'" 230
SINCLAIR'S LUCK
CHAPTER I
THE TWO CHUMS
It was the first day of the summer term. Stockmere was in a state of
commotion that is usually associated with the commencement of a
new session. There were boys promoted to higher forms, boys
remaining in a state of "as you were," new boys wandering about
aimlessly like strangers in a strange land, fearful the while lest by
word or deed they should transgress the moral and social side of
their new school-fellows. There were boys seeking old chums; boys
casting about for fresh ones. Housemasters and formmasters were
discussing boys; the Head and the Matron were doing likewise. In
short, the topic was "Boys."
"Let's get out of this crush," continued Tiny. "Lorrimer and Perkins
are cackling away in our study. You know what they are. I vote we
push off up on the moors. I'll ask Collier."
"H'm, about time," rejoined Mr. Collier. "All right, carry on."
Sinclair told his story simply and without hesitation. There were no
secrets between the two chums. They shared their pleasures, their,
for the most part trivial, troubles, their perplexities, and their worldly
goods (as far as their school belongings went) whole-heartedly.
"Fact is," said Colin, "my governor has been losing a lot of money
since the War, and he can't afford to keep me at Stockmere after this
term. I found out quite accidentally that the pater had been pretty
badly hit for some time. I ought to have left a year ago, only he kept
it dark and managed to let me stay on. He was hoping for things to
improve financially only they didn't. So that's that."
"I hardly know," replied his chum. "Of course, my idea of going to
an engineering college is off. After all's said and done, it means
earning nothing until a fellow's well over twenty-one, and then he's
lucky if he makes as much as a miner or a bricklayer. At any rate,
I've got to do something—to earn something. In fact, I don't think I
ought to have come back this term."
"I hardly know," he replied. "Anything to help things along. I've got
thirteen weeks to think over it. By that time—but, I say, Tiny, you
won't say a word to any of the other fellows?" he added anxiously.
"My word," he exclaimed, "isn't it tophole? I'll race you to the crest
of Shutter Pike."
For the first fifty yards Tiny led, but gradually Colin recovered the
initial advantage his companion had gained, and before the last fifty
yards he had drawn up level. Then, putting his whole energy into the
race, Sinclair dashed ahead and flung himself upon the grassy knoll
at the summit. To his surprise, Tiny had stopped and was holding his
hands against his ribs and coughing violently.
"Buck up, man!" Sinclair shouted. "I'm a bit out of training .... Why,
what's the matter? Anything wrong?"
"Did you fall?" he asked anxiously, for the bluish-grey pallor on his
chum's face rather took him aback.
"You're not up to the mark, that's evident," said Colin. "What have
you been doing these hols? You're right out of condition. You'll have
to train, my festive."
"I will," replied Desmond. "I've been slacking a bit, but I'll soon get
into form. I say, it's close on four. Let's get a move on."
"Don't say anything to Collier," said Tiny, as they passed the lodge
gates. "About this little cough of mine, I mean."
Tea over, Desmond and Sinclair went to the rooms they shared with
Lorrimer and "Polly" Perkins. Here everything was in a state of
disorder. The furniture had only just been removed from their last
term's den; their boxes and trunks, half unpacked, were piled upon
the table and chairs, while an assortment of bats, tennis rackets,
fishing rods, nets, and other articles inseparable with schoolboys
filled every available corner of the room.
"You're a nice pair!" exclaimed Lorrimer. "Mooching off and leaving
Polly and me to square things up."
"And a fine square up you've made of it," replied Tiny. "Hullo, what's
this? My razor! Polly, you are the absolute limit."
The summons did not surprise him. Coupled with the fact that he
was one of the head boys, and that this was the first day of a new
term, it was not unusual for a youth in Desmond's position to be
called to the Head's study.
Dr. Narfield was standing with his back to the empty fireplace in a
characteristic attitude, his mortar-board on the back of his head and
his hands clasped under the tails of his gown:
"Yes, Desmond," replied the Head, looking at the lad over the top of
his spectacles. "I thought, Desmond, that you, a head boy, would be
above a senseless practical joke."
"I can't exactly explain, sir," he replied. "I didn't put it into my bag,
and I certainly didn't intend to frighten Mrs. Symonds or anybody."
"Then how did it get into your bag?" asked the Head patiently.
Previous experiences had taught him the advisability of a patient
hearing and not to judge by circumstantial evidence. He knew
perfectly well the best way to detect a guilty culprit was to let him tell
his story without comment until he had made the fatal error of
condemning himself.
"It was like this, sir," explained Desmond. "The train was crowded,
and I rode in the guard's van. In the van, amongst other things, was
a large box labelled 'Eels—Perishable.' It had a small crack in it, and
very soon I saw an eel's tail appear. Then somehow other tails found
their way through and the box began to open."
"Go on, Desmond," he said gravely. Tiny, finding that the Head did
not ridicule his tale, plunged into his narrative without further
hesitation.
"I told the guard," he continued, "but he was busy writing in a book,
and told me it wasn't his business. It wasn't mine, so I just watched.
And before we got to Little Porton the eels had forced open the box
and were wriggling all over the place—hundreds of them, sir. The
guard got the wind up then—I mean, sir, he was in a bit of a funk. I
didn't exactly care for it myself, although it was a topping rag to
watch. So we both sat on some luggage and kept our feet up,
although at every station the guard had to get out. And a crowd of
eels got out, too. There were dozens of them left on every platform,
and by the time we got to Colbury Monkton the van was almost
empty. I must have left my bag unfastened—in fact, I remember
closing it when I got out—so I suppose one of them wriggled in."
CHAPTER II
"MEETING THE CASE"
"By the way," he continued, addressing Mr. Collier, who sat next to
him, "have you noticed anything peculiar about Desmond?"
"He hasn't seemed quite up to the mark for some time," replied Mr.
Collier. "A rather troublesome cough——"
"Precisely," interrupted the Head. "That was the fact to which I was
going to refer. He's a big fellow obviously outgrowing his strength. I
don't like that cough. It's strange his people didn't notice it. Some
parents never do. However, Collier, without frightening the lad, send
him over to the sanatorium to-morrow morning and get Dr. Anderson
to run over him. I believe I mentioned that Sinclair was leaving this
term?"
"Yes, indeed," replied the sixth form housemaster. "And I'm very
sorry to hear it. We'll miss him in the next inter-school sports."
* * * * *
"Now hold your breath ... count ten ... say, 'Ah.'"
"In the sanny, doctor!" exclaimed the astonished Tiny. "Why, sir, is
there anything very much wrong with me?"
"You want to go into dock for a slight overhaul and refit, Desmond,"
he replied. "Nothing much, but if neglected, your cough will develop
into something serious. You've been maintaining a full head of steam
in a boiler with defective tubes. Those tubes haven't blown out yet,
but they might. You understand what I mean? Very well, then. It's
merely a matter of going slow, taking reasonable precautions, and
undergoing a sort of treatment, and we'll soon have you fit again."
* * * * *
"I ran over young Desmond this morning, Dr. Narfield," reported Dr.
Anderson. "It's no use mincing matters, although I tried, ineffectually,
I fear, to bluff the lad. One lung is badly affected; the other shows
signs of pulmonary weakness. The best thing to be done is to send
that youngster abroad—to a warm, dry climate. It will mean you
losing a promising pupil, but that's an assured thing in any case. If
he does go abroad there's a thundering good chance that he will
make a complete recovery. If he doesn't—well——"
Dr. Anderson turned his thumbs down. There was no mistaking the
significance of the act.
"I'll write to his parents at once," declared the Head. "I don't
suppose for one moment they have noticed Desmond's condition.
Parents rarely do; they trust implicitly to the school physician.