The Motor Pirate

by G. Sidney Paternoster

  CHAPTER II

  THE COMPTON CHAMBERLAIN OUTRAGE

  "A MOTOR PIRATE "TAKES TOLL OF TRAVELLERS IN THE WEST.

  "A VEILED STRANGER ON A MYSTERIOUS MOTOR FLIES "THE BLACK FLAG NEAR SALISBURY.

  "ON receipt of the following extraordinary story from the Central NewsAgency this morning, the _Star_ at once sent a representative to makeinquiries on the spot. His inquiries reveal the existence of a newterror to all who travel by road. Following are the facts communicatedto us by the agency:--

  "'A daring highway robbery was committed near Salisbury late last night.The victims were two gentlemen who had been touring in the west countryby motor. They had intended to reach Salisbury early yesterday evening,but were delayed by a puncture. When about eight miles from Salisburythey were attacked by the occupant of another car, who wrecked theirvehicle, and, after robbing them of all their valuables, decamped,leaving them badly injured by the wayside. There they were discoveredsome time afterwards and removed to the nearest inn at ComptonChamberlain, where they remain under medical attendance.--_CentralNews._'

  "The _Star_ special correspondent wires:--

  "Compton Chamberlain, 12.30.

  "There is no doubt but that the Motor Pirate has a real existence. Onarriving at Salisbury I at once proceeded to make inquiries as to whatwas known of the outrage, but Salisbury generally was sceptical on thesubject. I found, however, that the affair had been reported at thecounty police office; and I at once drove on here, and am now in aposition to assert that this quiet Wiltshire village has been the sceneof the most astounding robbery of modern times. It is safe to prophecythat in a few more months Dick Turpin will be forgotten. He has a rivalin the field whose exploits will soon relegate him into comparativeobscurity.

  "The first visible evidence of the outrage was afforded me about aquarter of a mile from Compton. The road dips here slightly, and at theend of the incline a motor-car was drawn to the side of the road, orrather the remains of what had once been a smart Daimler of some 7 or 8h.p. A stonebreaker was at work on an adjacent pile of flints, and whenI alighted to examine the wreck, he nailed me with, 'Hoy, mister! Ye'dbetter leave thick thur car alone. The p'lice be comin' to tek un upzhortly.'

  "I gathered from him that he had been told to keep an eye upon the car,but beyond having heard that the owners had met with an accident, heknew nothing. There was no doubt about the accident. The car was sobroken up that it looked as if it had been in collision with an armouredtrain.

  "Compton Chamberlain, 2.45 p.m.

  "I have just succeeded in interviewing the owner of the motor-car, a Mr.James Bradshaw, of 379, Maida Vale. His companion was Mr. GainsboroughRoberts, of 200, Clapham Common. Mr. Roberts is suffering from severeconcussion, and has not regained consciousness; but fortunately Mr.Bradshaw's injuries, though painful, are not dangerous, and he has beengood enough to give me a full account of his unique adventure. It seemsthe two gentlemen had been touring in the west country for ten days, andwere on their way home. They stopped the previous night at Exeter,leaving about ten in the morning with the intention of reachingSalisbury about five or six yesterday evening. They lunched atIlminster, and afterwards had traversed another twenty-five miles oftheir journey when one of their tyres unfortunately punctured. This wasshortly after they had passed through Wincanton. When the tyre wasmended, something went wrong with the electric ignition, and altogetherthe repairs proved such a tedious job that they could not make a freshstart until close upon lighting-up time.

  "The delay had not troubled them, for the weather was beautifully fine.As, however, they were very hungry, they determined to stop atShaftesbury for dinner before finishing the day's run they had mappedout. There is a particularly long hill into Shaftesbury, and they didnot reach that town until 8.30. At the hotel they met another party ofmotorists, and, agreeing to dine together, it was not until after tenthat they found themselves once more on their way, with twenty miles ofa hilly road to cover. The lateness of the hour did not trouble themmuch. They had wired to Salisbury for rooms; the night was fine andclear; a bright moon was shining; the roads were clear of traffic, andtheir motor was guaranteed to do its thirty-five miles an hour. Theythought that it would be a good opportunity to find out what Mr.Bradshaw's car was really capable of doing on a hilly track.

  "Mr. Bradshaw declares that he had never enjoyed a run more than he didon this occasion. A brisk wind was blowing behind them, they found therewas more downhill than up, the road was absolutely clear, and they wereable to take the declines at a pace which took the sting out of theascents."

  "So for twenty minutes they ran at full speed, and after slowing to passthrough a village, they had just put on full speed again when Mr.Bradshaw's attention was arrested by a curious humming sound whichappeared to arise from something behind. He was, of course, unable toglance back, as all his faculties were engaged in driving the car; butMr. Roberts, whose attention was attracted at the same moment, informedhim that another motor-car was coming up behind. Then, to quote Mr.Bradshaw's own words, 'Thinking the other chap was on for a race, I dideverything I knew to get every ounce out of my motor. But,' hecontinued, 'though I'll swear we were running nearer forty thanthirty-five, the other fellow swooped up and passed us as if we werestanding still.'

  "For the moment he thought that the stranger was one of those Americanspeed motors specially built for racing on the track, but only for amoment. The strange car slackening speed, allowed them to comealongside. What followed may be best described in Mr. Bradshaw's ownwords.

  "'There was only one occupant of the strange car, and, seeing himslacken speed, I naturally thought he wished to speak to us. So, as hecame level, I shouted to him, my exact words being, if I rememberaright, "Hallo, sir! You've got a flyer there." I fancied I heard achuckle from beneath his mask (he wore a hood covering the head fittedwith a mica plate in front) and he replied, "Yes; I fancy my car is fastenough to overtake anything that is to be found on the road." There wassomething in his tone that struck me as peculiar, but I merelyattributed it to the motorist's pride in his car. As however he saidnothing further, but continued to keep alongside, in a manner thatlooked as if he were inclined to gloat over the owner of a less speedymachine, I asked with some little irritation, "Is there anything I cando for you, because if not----" He did not allow me to finish my query."Yes, sir," he replied promptly, "there is something I am going to askyou to do for me," and he gave another of his infernal chuckles.

  "'"Well, what is it?" I demanded, with a little warmth.

  "'"I must request you to hand over all your money and valuables to me,"he replied.

  "'I could not believe my ears. I was so astonished that I gave the wheela turn that nearly landed us in the ditch. Will you believe it? Even inthat swerve the strange car followed mine, and when I had got herstraight in the road, I heard him chuckle again. His manner angered mebeyond bearing.

  "'"What the deuce do you mean?" I shouted.

  "'"There's no need for you to lose your temper," he answered coolly. "Imust, however, trouble you to stop that car at once."

  "'As he spoke he raised his hand, and I saw the barrel of a revolverglisten in the moonlight. There seemed to be only one way out of thepredicament, for I thought I had to deal with a madman, and I took it. Ipretended to be so alarmed that I fell over the steering wheel, and mademy car swerve again. But this time we swerved towards, instead of awayfrom, the stranger. I doubt whether there was light enough for him tohave read my intention in my face, but it was obvious that heanticipated my move, for his car shot forward with such wonderful speedthat the fate I intended to force upon him befell myself. I saw his cardisappearing ahead, and the next moment I was just conscious of a shockthat sent me flying into oblivion.

  "'Exactly how long I remained unconscious I do not know, but when I cameto my senses I found myself lying on the grass at the roadside, havingf
ortunately been thrown on the soft turf. Roberts was lying unconsciouson the road; the car was smashed to bits; our pockets had been turnedinside out, and our money, watches, and every article of value we hadabout us, taken. Needless to say, the stranger had disappeared.'

  "Mr. Bradshaw was not in a state to be of much assistance to his morebadly injured friend, and he was at a complete loss as to what course topursue, when a trap coming from Salisbury fortunately made itsappearance on the scene. Assistance was procured, and the two injuredgentlemen were conveyed to Compton, and medical attention quicklyprovided. Though much shaken, and badly bruised, Mr. Bradshaw hassustained comparatively little injury. Mr. Roberts, however, isdangerously ill, and his relatives have been telegraphed for.

  "As regards the appearance of his assailant, Mr. Bradshaw can give fewparticulars, save that he was clad in a large leather motoring coat, andhis face completely hidden by a mask. The car can, on the contrary, beeasily identified. It is boat-shaped, running to a sharp, cutting edgeboth in front and behind. The body is not raised more than eighteeninches from the ground. The wheels are either within the body, or sosheathed that they are completely hidden. It has apparently seatingaccommodation for two persons, the seat being placed immediately in thecentre of the car. Mr. Bradshaw is quite convinced that petrol is notthe motive force used for its propulsion, and as he cannot imagine thatan electric motor of any kind was employed; the rapidity of motion, theperfection of the steering, the absence of noise and vibration, are soremarkable that he is utterly at a loss as to what build of car wasdriven by the stranger."

  I had just finished reading this extraordinary story when I felt a tapon the shoulder, and, looking up, saw Colonel Maitland standing beforeme.

  "'Pon my word, Sutgrove," he remarked, "I have never before seen any oneso completely enthralled in a newspaper in my life. I've been standingwatching you for nearly a minute."

  I sprang to my feet, and held out my hand.

  "What's the latest from Mr. Justice Jeune's division? When you come tomy years of discretion you will be more interested in the _menu_."

  I laughed. "It was not the inanities of the divorce court, Colonel," Iremarked; "but the most astonishing----"

  He checked me with uplifted hand. "Being a rational being," he said, "Iprefer my stories with my cigar. One should come to dinner with a calmmind."

  At this moment Winter entered the room, and, giving a signal to thewaiter, the _hors d'oeuvre_ were placed before us as he seated himselfat the table.

  When he had greeted me I had observed that Colonel Maitland's face hadworn a slightly resigned expression that reminded me of a picture I hadseen somewhere of Christian martyrs being led to the stake. He took amouthful of caviar and the cloud lifted. After the soup the dominantnote of self-sacrifice had vanished entirely. With the fish his featuresattained repose. When we reached the _entree_ his face had the radianceof a translated saint's. Then, with my mind at rest as to the effect ofmy little dinner upon my chief guest, I found time to devote a littleattention to Winter. Yet, bearing in mind the Colonel's objection toanything but light generalities during the serious business of dinner, Iforbore to introduce the topic I was burning to discuss with him. Notuntil the coffee was upon the table, and Colonel Maitland had expressedhis contentment with the dinner, did I venture to refer to it. Then,while our senior was dallying with an early strawberry, Winter gave me alead.

  "By the way, Sutgrove," he said, "what's this I saw on the evening paperbills about a motor pirate?"

  I told him. His interest was awakened to such an extent that he forgotto taste the glass of port which stood before him, and which I hadordered out of compliment to the Colonel's ideas of what was desirable.

  When my story was concluded Winter was silent. Colonel Maitland,however, hazarded the remark that the whole narrative was "a concoctionof some of those newspaper fellows. I have been at the War Office," hesaid, "so I ought to know of what they are capable."

  "I can scarcely imagine that any newspaper would dare hoax its readersto such an extent," remarked Winter.

  "They are capable of anything--anything," replied the Colonel,vigorously. "I have known them on more than one occasion to attack evenmy department."

  "That of course is scandalous," I replied warmly; "but here theconditions are different. They are referring to people who are able toreply if the facts are not as stated. In your case your mouth, ofcourse, was closed."

  "Umph!" growled the Colonel.

  "At the same time," said Winter, "it may very well have happened thatconsciously or unconsciously the papers have been made the victims of apractical joke. To-morrow is the first of April, remember. Or even apartfrom the joke theory, the event happened after dinner, and Mr. Bradshawmay have found it necessary to be prepared with an explanation of hisaccident."

  "But the robbery?" I objected.

  "A passing tramp may have thought the opportunity too good to beneglected."

  "At all events," I persisted, "it is curious that two similar accidentsshould have occurred the same night in the same part of the country."

  "Certainly the coincidence is remarkable," answered Winter. "But do notforget that the two occurrences took place at least a hundred andthirty miles apart within less than three hours of one another. I willswear that no motor yet built would cover those roads inside threehours. I know them. No, Sutgrove. The moral seems to me to be that it isunwise for a motorman to look upon the wine when it is red, if he wantsto get anywhere afterwards."

  The Colonel stretched his hand across the table and removed the glasswhich stood on the table before Winter.

  "My young friend," he observed, "you have, I believe, undertaken tobring me safely home to-night?"

  "You need not fear," replied Winter, laughing, "it's only the liquorssupplied at country inns which drive motor-cars into ditches."

  The Colonel replaced the glass with a smile and refilled his own fromthe cradled bottle at his elbow.

  "I am merely a passenger, but you drive," he remarked. "I think,Sutgrove, under the circumstances, I will be responsible for theremainder of this bottle. It is endowed with certain qualities whichparticularly recommend themselves to me. It would be a sad thing if anaccident were to befall us on our journey. In times of stress such asthese one never knows when the War Office may not require the servicesof a capable man."

  Though the Colonel spoke in jest, in the event his words indicated witha fair amount of accuracy the destination of the port, for while wecontinued to discuss every point in the story, he sipped and sipped andnodded his head beatifically. I did not replenish my glass, but when werose the bottle was empty.

  "Well, Colonel, what do you say to a music hall?" I asked.

  "My boy," he replied, as he patted me on the back, "I sleep far morecomfortably in my bed."

  I realized where the contents of the bottle had gone by thesententiousness of my friend's phrasing, the slight turgidity, so tospeak, of his articulation.

  "My dear boy," he continued, "I have never known you until this moment.You are greater than Columbus. Any one might discover a new continent,but in these days it needs exceptional qualities of enterprise andendurance to discover a fresh restaurant. I am content. Let us go home."

  We donned our overcoats and came into the open air. Winter's motor waswaiting at the door in charge of a man from the _garage_ where he hadleft it. We stepped in.