iS 
Land & Water 
March 14, 19 ^^ 
■Sftov was a hVrd-headed, iKird-working man of affa r. 
N'ow^n this case, which do you think would be the succe..ful 
.ie ' You would naturally put your money «" Ba";\o;^ 
\nd vou would be wrong every time ! For a year or two 
thev worked together, and then Banstow was offered an 
overseas 5 in I tin mine. TlTev continued to live together 
but tS work separated them. Lynneker was employed 
on an ostrich farm The ostrich farm was a huge success, 
but the tin mine failed. That seemecl to make the begmnmg 
■of their divergence. Whatever Lynneker touched succeeded , 
whatever Banstow touched failed. , ^ , . u.H , 
Lynneker was a careless, easy-going person, but he had a 
nati've genius. He could control men. Men loved him . . . 
Mr fori, paused, and knocked the ash of his cheroot into 
1 tray Then he continued : , ,r .u • u* 
"Rmstow worked like a slave. He sat up half the night 
scheming and plotting. He was infallible in his calculations, 
Sd then he just missed. He didn't inspire anyone. 
He misjudged men, and men didn't believe in him. As the 
years went on. and Lynneker became morp and more success- 
ful and Banstow made no progress, the thing began to get 
on'Banstow's nerves. He quarrelled with his friend, and 
they became rivals. The injustice of it all infuriated Banstow. 
He worked, and Lynneker lazed and dreamed, and yet he 
won every time.' They went into the diamond-mining 
industry, and Lynneker began amassing a great fortune in a 
careless, haphazard way. And again Banstow failed. In 
ten years' time Lynneker was an immensely rich man, and 
Banstow was a bankrupt clerk in a labour bureau. And 
then one day, in a mood of sullen resentment, he hatched a 
diabolical plot against Lyiftieker. He bribed some Kaf&rs, 
and tried to get Lynneker convicted of illicit diamond- 
bu\'ing- By the merest fluke the plot was discovered, and 
it "was Banstow who was convicted. He was sentenced to 
seven years' imprisonment. He served his term m full. In 
the meantime Lynneker became a bigger and bigger man m 
Africa. He lived in Johannesburg, and owned great blocks 
of offices. But he always remained a dreamer. Sometimes 
he would ride out at night into the karoo. They sa>' he 
dreamed of a United Africa. I don't know. He certainly 
wrote poetry in the intervals of amassing money. Two 
weeks after Banstow was released from prison, Lynneker's 
body was found out in the karoo, with a bullet through his 
heart. He had ridden out alone one night, and as he hadn't 
returned they sent out a search-party, and found him the 
next day. Banstow was suspected, but apparently he had" 
escaped. Nothing more was seen of him." 
The stranger paused, and then languidly hghted another 
cheroot. The interval seemed so indefinite that at last 
.Albert said : 
"Where does Uncle Herbert come in ?" 
"Your Uncle Herbert was a cipher," replied our visitor. 
He was merely one of the people who came under the 
influence of Lynneker. As a matter of fact, I believe he was 
one of the worst cases. He worshipped Lynneker. Lynneker 
was the obsession of his life. He acted as secretary for 
him for his' vast charitable concerns. And when Lynneker 
was found dead, he nearly went off his head. He howled 
like a terrier who has lost his master." 
JHe glanced round at us, and in the dim light I thought 
I- detected a sneer of contempt. 
" Lynneker died a millionaire." he proceeded, " and among 
other legacies he left your uncle certain blocks of mining 
■ shares which were probably worth about forty or fifty 
thousand pounds. That's how he made his money." 
There was a gasp of relief round the room, and Albert 
wiped his brow. 
" Then the money was straight enough, after all !" 
he said huskily. 
The chilling voice of the stranger came through the darkness: 
" As straight as any money can be." 
Richard stood up and moved to the mantelpiece. 
" Why the hell couldn't he tell us about this before, then ? 
Why was he so secret ?" 
" Herbert Read had no nerves. The thing broke him up. 
Banstow had also been a friend of his at one time, and he 
was convinced that Banstow had killed his master. He had 
periods of -melancholia. The doctors told him that unless he 
went away for a change, and tried to get it out of his head, 
he would be in an asylum in a few months. And so I suppose 
he came over here. But his heart was affected, and when 
I gave him the news I did last week, the shock finished him." 
We all started. i 
■' That bSow was innocent. I was able to show him a 
certificate from the master of The Birmingham, provmg that 
on the night of the murder Banstow was a steerage passenger 
on board his ship, seventy-three miles east-north-east of 
the Azores Lynneker was probably shot by some vagrant 
thief Certainly his watch and all his money were missing. 
We all peered at the man hidden in the recesses of the easy- 
chair, and Albert said : . 
" How was it you had this information ^ 
The figure crossed its legs and the voice rephed languidly : 
"I was interested. I happen to be Karl Banstow!, 
\lbert groped past me on tiptoe, muttering : 
■* In God's name, where is the electric light switch ? 
It is a curious fact regarding these telepathic processes 1 
have hinted at in this chronicle of our uncle's return, that 
from the day when it was demonstrated that the money we 
had inherited was to all intents and purposes clean, our own 
little affairs seemed to take their cue from this consciousness. 
Certain it is that since that time everything seems to have 
prospered for us. (You should see Albert's shops, partic- 
ularly the one on the Broadway, where he is still not too 
proud to serve himself.) As for myself, as I am now in a 
position to lead the indolent life of a scribe m this little 
manor-house up in the Cotswolds, and as this position is due 
entirely to the generosity of ITncle Herbert, it seems only 
right and proper that I should begin my literary career by 
recounting the story of his return. 
Village Memorials 
" The parish of Darrington lies in the centre of the Wapen- 
take of Osgoldcross." This is the opening sentence of the 
introduction to Mr. J. S. Fletcher's Memorials of a Yorkshire 
Parish (John Lane, 7s. 6d. net), and it stimulates the 
imagination. One inevitably wants to hear about that 
picturesque locality, "the centre of the Wapentake oi 
Osgoldcross," and its delightful surroundings, which are so 
well illustrated by Mr. G. P. Rhodes, whose picture of 
Darrington Hall we reproduce here. At the Crown Inn 
of Darrington, which is on the Great North Road, forty 
to sixty coaches would change horses during a day, in 
the memory of old people who have died during the last 
twenty years. And Darrington was the home of the 
highwayman Nevinson, who went to the gallows like 
Darrington Hall 
a Fgentleman, and was the true hero of that famous 
ride from London to York, attributed to Dick Turpin. There 
were also witches at Darrington. Early in the seventeenth 
century one Mary Pannell lived in a cave near by, told 
fortunes, and gave "counsell and helpe" to the villagers, so 
that the place grew too hot for her ; she moved to Ledsham, 
where she was burned, after being tried and convicted for 
witchcraft at York. ^ 
The very names of the families and places that abound 
in this story of a Yorkshire village are almost an epic in 
themselves • many of them are closely connected with the 
history of the county and the realm. To Mr. Fletcher 
cordial thanks are due, not only for the delightful character 
of. these simple annals, but for the example he has set to 
others. There ought not to be a single village in these 
islands without its memorials, written in this pleasant and 
straightforward manner. The story begins in Roman times, 
and continues to the present day, and many glimpses are 
given of the conditions of life of these Yorkshire villagers 
throughout the centuries. 
