‘Let me in, I tell you! I’m nearly drowned!’ The hammering came again, a positive fusillade. This time it had an effect, but not the one which Adam intended. Another voice, deeper than his own, said, ‘What’s all this?’
‘Oh, John! John Trent!’ shouted Erica. There was a yell and an indeterminate scrabbling noise. Then John Trent called out, ‘All right, ladies! All clear now!’ Erica opened the door. John Trent, torch in hand, was on the verandah. Erica pulled him inside.
‘Oh, dear! You
‘Nothing to speak of. What was all that racket?’
‘That was the wretched boy who’s been dogging our footsteps for the past two days. We thought we’d got rid of him.’
‘You don’t value him, then?’
‘We’re sick to death of him.’
‘Oh, that’s all right, then. I’ve just chucked him over your verandah railings.’
‘Oh, dear!’ said Tamsin, distressed.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll retrieve him and bed him down in our shack. He can have the spare bunk and I’ll chase him away in the morning with a flea in his ear that he won’t forget. I’m sorry he’s made such a nuisance of himself. I’ll see it doesn’t happen again. ’
Chapter 4: DODDER
« ^ »
After breakfast on the following day Erica paid a visit to the cabin across the way to thank John Trent for his intervention.
‘But for you, it looks as though we might have been pestered by that youth for the rest of our stay,’ she said.
‘Oh, no, I don’t think so. If he is staying at Youth Hostels he is allowed a maximum of three nights in any one of them. It was abominable of him to attempt to knock you up at that time of night, but I don’t think you’ll see or hear any more of him. I’ve put his motorcycle right and sent him off.’
She had scarcely got back to her own cabin when she and the others had another visitor. This was the warden. He was accompanied by the forester who had led the conducted tour on the Sunday.
‘Not to alarm you,’ he said, ‘but I’m making a round of the cabins because I have just had a police message. A convict has escaped from Hangmoor. He will be in need of money and a change of clothes. The police don’t think he has any outside contacts. He’s a convicted murderer, not a habitual criminal, but he must be desperate and may be dangerous. The police think he is somewhere on the moors and will soon be recaptured, but until that happens it might be as well to stick to the forest walks, or, if you do go out on the moors, to remain in your car and on no account to give anybody a lift. Anyway, whatever you do or wherever you go, my advice is that you all keep together and make sure that your cabin is locked up when you’re out and is made secure at night.’
John Trent came over after the warden had gone.
‘My parents and I are checking out on Saturday morning,’ he said, ‘and I don’t know whether our cabin has been booked for the following week. If it should be left empty you’ll be rather isolated out here, so you’ll be a bit careful until this fellow is caught, won’t you?’
‘You know, said Tamsin, when John had left them, ’I think all that business with Adam has upset my nervous system. I don’t believe I want to go out today.’
‘That’s nonsense,’ said Isobel. ‘We mustn’t give in to a scare. There isn’t one chance in a thousand that we shall run across this murderer. As for Adam Penshaw, well, he was just a nuisance to you, and that was your own fault. You shouldn’t have encouraged him in the first place.’
‘I suppose I encouraged him too, you know, ’ said Hermione. ‘I gave him the lift in my car. Who was to know that he would latch on to us the way he did?’
‘Well, the rain has stopped,’ said Erica, ‘and I can’t see us spending all our time cooped up indoors just because there’s a convict on the run. Why don’t we try one of the forest trails if Tamsin’s ankle will stand up to a bit of walking? We need not go all that far.’
‘Oh, the ankle is all right. I’ll buy an ash-plant just in case. I expect they’ve got some at the shop,’ said Tamsin. ‘If not, they’ll have them in Gledge End.’
‘We’ll each buy one,’ said Hermione, ‘and then it won’t matter how many escaped convicts we meet.’
‘We’re not likely to meet any in the forest,’ said Isobel, ‘with the foresters and the other cabin people all over the place. I’m game for a walk. Who’s coming?’
Into the outhouse at the Youth Hostel slunk a bedraggled, dirty, unshaven man. The outhouse was an open- fronted shed with a bench on all three sides. It was there to accommodate Youth Hostellers who arrived before five in the afternoon, since the hostel admitted nobody before that hour. The man knew nothing of this. He was merely taking a much-needed rest. When he heard voices he got up from the bench and almost collided with two young men who were about to enter the outhouse.
‘No good trying yet. It wants a quarter to five,’ said one. ‘I say! You’re wet, brother! Been sleeping rough?’
‘Lost my way,’ said the man, trying to push past.
‘Mean you were out in the rain last night? They’ve got a drying-room here. You’ll be all right by morning.’
‘Drying room?’
‘Sure. Dry your gear, see? Haven’t you stayed in one of these before?’
‘One of what?’
‘Aren’t you a member?’
‘Member of what? I’ve got to get on. Let me by.’
‘Where are you bound for?’
‘What’s that to you?’ He pushed past and plunged downhill on to the moor, but the questioner was not to be put off so easily. He ran after him and caught up with him. The man turned on him like an angry cat. ‘Let me be! Get lost!’ he said hoarsely.
‘I can’t let you be, brother .You’d be on my conscience. Look, you’re down on your luck. I can see that. Come back with me to the hostel and I’ll get you a bed. A mate of mine can’t come and I’ve got his membership ticket as well as my own. You can be him, so far as the hostel will know. The Lord will forgive me the bit of cheating, as it’s in a good cause. Come on back with me. I’ll see you through. Got any money?’
‘I don’t think you have, but the bed is paid for. We have to book and pay in advance. On the road, are you?’ All this time the earnest young man had remained with a sinewy hand grasping the wanderer’s sleeve. The unkempt man ceased to resist. ‘Would they really give me a bed?’ he asked.
‘Sure, if I show them the card. Your name’s Bert Leeds for tonight. Got it? Bert Leeds. That’s who you are, and you have to leave before ten in the morning. Now I don’t ask any questions, so you don’t need to tell me any lies. I want to be your friend, brother, that’s all. You see, I believe we were put into this sinful world to help each other, so I’m going to help you. Just between ourselves, what’s your name? I want to pray for you.’
‘I don’t have a name and prayers won’t do me any good.’
‘Oh, well, brother, if that’s the way you want it, I won’t press you. Where are you making for?’
‘I’ve got to get to Gledge End, so let me get on.’
‘You’ll never make it across the moor tonight. You look to me like you’ve got a weak chest. You come on back with me, brother. I’m not going to have your death on my conscience.’
‘What did you say my name was?’
‘Bert Leeds. All I have to do is hand in the cards and collect them up again when we leave.’
‘I’ll have to leave early.’
‘That’s all right. You leave as early as you like.’ The other young man came up to them. ‘Oh, hullo, Tony,’ said the Good Samaritan. ‘Are they open?’
‘They are, Steve, they are.’
The bedraggled man licked his lips.
