DYCK BROS. LTD.

White Super Power Trucks
—Chevrolet Dealers—

Electric and Acetylene Welding
Phone 2116

P.O. Box 41 LUMBY, B.C.

LUMBY HOTEL
W. BORGENS - Prop.
*
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Phone 2501 LUMBY, B.C.

Okanagan Investments Ltd.
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GENERAL FINANCIAL AGENTS
TRUSTS and ESTATES MANAGED

Phone 98 - 332

Kelowna, British Columbia

CcKOV

“THE VOICE OF THE OKANAGAN”
KELOWNA, B.C.
630 KC

Basic Station C.B.C. Trans-Canada
Network

FUMERTON’S LTD.

DEPARTMENT STORE
411 Bernard Ave.
“Where Cash Beats Credit’
DRY GOODS, SMALL WARES,
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KELOWNA B.C.

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KELOWNA, B.C.

Packers and Shippers of Fresh Fruits
and Vegetables, Feed and Orchard
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Rolly’s Auto Body Works

Frame, Body and Fender Repairs
Auto Painting and Welding
"If Your Body is Bent and Your
Fender is Showing”
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Phone 1120
230 Leon Ave.

Kelowna, B.C.

LOURISTS #0
iry Kelowna’s Newest Cate

DE LUXE GRILL

Formerly Chapins Cafe
275 Bernard Ave.

KELOWNA B.C.

Page Twenty-eight

superintendent’s questions, Dougal
said that Miss Holland had only
stayed for a short visit, she had left
nothing behind her in the house, and
she had left the farm suddenly as a
result of a quarrel over Dougal’s sup-
posed actions toward a servant girl.
He denied any knowledge of Miss
Holland’s affairs, her investments or
her relatives. Finally, he said, he had
never at any time received any mail in
her name.

At the end of three-quarters of an
hour, as Pryke got up to go, he re-
marked: “There is a suggestion that
Miss Holland is shut up somewhere in
this house. Do you mind if I look
around?”

“Not at all,” said Dougal genially.
“Look everywhere, I'll show you
around.”

The two men explored the house,
and found it vacant. Every now and
again, Pryke would pause before some
object of art or expensive piece of
furniture and ask the ownership.
“Mine,” said Dougal, with his usual
breeziness. “Everything in the house
is mine.”

Before he had interviewed Dougal,
Pryke had seen Florence Blackwell,
and the girl was positive of the date
that Dougal and Miss Holland had
last been seen together, the day they
drove off together in the trap. She
had every good reason to remember
that day, it was May 19, 1899.

After his interview with Dougal,
Pryke left Moat Farm in a pensive
mood, and he made his way to the
Stansted railway station. He intro-
duced himself to the ticket agent,
then checked the ticket stubs for May
19, 1899. No one had bought a ticket
for London on that day. He also found
out that the last train from London
arrived at Stansted at 7:05 that eve-
ning.

Scotland Yard Was Busy

While this was going on, Inspector
Bower of Scotland Yard had been
busy in London, and he had learned
some interesting things. He came
down to Essex to consult with Pryke.

Bower had located Miss Holland’s
nephew, her bank account and her
solicitors. At the National Provincial
Bank he had seen the last cheque
made out by “Miss Holland,’ dated
Aug. 28, 1902, and it had come in a
letter from Moat Farm. The proceeds
of the cheque had been deposited to
the account of J. Heath in the London
& County Bank in Bishop’s Stortford.
The nephew was positive that his
aunt’s signature was a forgery, and
Bower suggested that Dougal be
charged with forgery.

Now events were moving to a Cli-
max and at a swift pace.

The day after Pryke’s visit to Moat
Farm, Dougal happened to be down
at the Stansted railway station, and
an old porter chattily told Dougal that

a detective chap had been around the
day before checking over ticket stubs
to see who had gone up to London
“four years ago, come May.”

“Fower years ago, mark yer,”
cackled the old chap, as he tottered
off, wheezing and chuckling, amazed
by the methods of modern crime de-
tectors.

Dougal studied the platform for
what seemed an age—then he collect-
ed his wits, and took the first train
for Bishop Stortford and drew from
the bank all but a few shillings of J.
Heath’s funds. By the time another
hour had gone by he was on the train
for London, and when it pulled in to
Liverpool Street station, he elbowed
his way impatiently through the
platform throng and got out into
Bishopsgate Street. “Birkbeck Bank
in Holborn,” he yelled to the cabby
as he swung aboard a hansom, “and
don’t waste time!”

“That damn prying Pryke!” he
cursed to himself, as the cab swung
and jolted through the narrow streets.

Out of the cab in Holborn he made
a bee line for the bank, and in a few
minutes had withdrawn his deposit.
Now he had about six hundred
pounds, and out in the street he sud-
denly realized that it included a lot
of Bank of England notes of large
denominations. He must get rid of
them. They were numbered, they
could be traced. And there was still
time.

Hailing another cab, he shouted “the
Bank,” as he settled inside. To all
Londoners “the Bank” means the
Bank of England, the austere institu-
tion that has handled Britain’s fin-
ances for 265 years.

At Threadneedle Street Dougal
paid his cabman, and walked briskly
into the cathedral-like atmosphere of
England’s financial citadel. Going up
to a cashier he laid down a wad of
notes, Bank of England notes, and
asked for gold.

Arrested at Bank

The cashier idly drew the bundle
of notes towards him, giving Dougal
a casual glance. In a routine fashion
the bank man noted the number of
the first note on the pile, and auto-
matically reacting to his daily routine,
his eyes checked the “stop” list beside
him.

Although the cashier’s face be-
trayed no flicker of interest, his
thoughts jerked to a sharp focus of
attention. The number was identical
with that of a note that had been
“stopped” by the Birkbeck Bank, a
few minutes before Dougal’s appear-
ance.

Casually excusing himself, while
Dougal stood impatiently at the
counter, the cashier went into a
nearby office.

There is always a city police in-
spector on duty in the Bank of Eng-

THE SHOULDER STRAP