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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:35:11 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:35:11 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/10790-0.txt b/10790-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ef3cbb3 --- /dev/null +++ b/10790-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,513 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10790 *** + +SAILORS' KNOTS + +By W.W. Jacobs + + +1909 + + + +PRIZE MONEY + + +The old man stood by the window, gazing at the frozen fields beyond. The +sign of the Cauliflower was stiff with snow, and the breath of a pair of +waiting horses in a wagon beneath ascended in clouds of steam. + +[Illustration: "The sign of the Cauliflower was stiff with snow."] + +"Amusements" he said slowly, as he came back with a shiver and, resuming +his seat by the tap-room fire, looked at the wayfarer who had been idly +questioning him. "Claybury men don't have much time for amusements. +The last one I can call to mind was Bill Chambers being nailed up in a +pig-sty he was cleaning out, but there was such a fuss made over that +--by Bill--that it sort o' disheartened people." + +He got up again restlessly, and, walking round the table, gazed long and +hard into three or four mugs. + +"Sometimes a little gets left in them," he explained, meeting the +stranger's inquiring glance. The latter started, and, knocking on the +table with the handle of his knife, explained that he had been informed +by a man outside that his companion was the bitterest teetotaller in +Claybury. + +"That's one o' Bob Pretty's larks," said the old man, flushing. "I see +you talking to 'im, and I thought as 'ow he warn't up to no good. +Biggest rascal in Claybury, he is. I've said so afore, and I'll say so +agin." + +He bowed to the donor and buried his old face in the mug. + +"A poacher!" he said, taking breath. "A thief!" he continued, after +another draught. "I wonder whether Smith spilt any of this a-carrying of +it in?" + +He put down the empty mug and made a careful examination of the floor, +until a musical rapping on the table brought the landlord into the room +again. + +"My best respects," he said, gratefully, as he placed the mug on the +settle by his side and slowly filled a long clay pipe. Next time you see +Bob Pretty ask 'im wot happened to the prize hamper. He's done a good +many things has Bob, but it'll be a long time afore Claybury men'll look +over that. + +It was Henery Walker's idea. Henery 'ad been away to see an uncle of 'is +wife's wot had money and nobody to leave it to--leastways, so Henery +thought when he wasted his money going over to see 'im--and he came back +full of the idea, which he 'ad picked up from the old man. + +"We each pay twopence a week till Christmas," he ses, "and we buy a +hamper with a goose or a turkey in it, and bottles o' rum and whiskey and +gin, as far as the money'll go, and then we all draw lots for it, and the +one that wins has it." + +It took a lot of explaining to some of 'em, but Smith, the landlord, +helped Henery, and in less than four days twenty-three men had paid their +tuppences to Henery, who 'ad been made the seckitary, and told him to +hand them over to Smith in case he lost his memory. + +Bob Pretty joined one arternoon on the quiet, and more than one of 'em +talked of 'aving their money back, but, arter Smith 'ad explained as 'ow +he would see fair play, they thought better of it. + +"He'll 'ave the same chance as all of you," he ses. "No more and no +less." + +"I'd feel more easy in my mind, though, if'e wasn't in it," ses Bill +Chambers, staring at Bob. "I never knew 'im to lose anything yet." + +"You don't know everything, Bill," ses Bob, shaking his 'ead. "You don't +know me; else you wouldn't talk like that. I've never been caught doing +wrong yet, and I 'ope I never shall." + +"It's all right, Bill," ses George Kettle. "Mr. Smith'll see fair, and +I'd sooner win Bob Pretty's money than anybody's." + +"I 'ope you will, mate," ses Bob; "that's what I joined for." + +"Bob's money is as good as anybody else's," ses George Kettle, looking +round at the others. "It don't signify to me where he got it from." + +"Ah, I don't like to hear you talk like that George," ses Bob Pretty. +"I've thought more than once that you 'ad them ideas." + +He drank up his beer and went off 'ome, shaking his 'cad, and, arter +three or four of'em 'ad explained to George Kettle wot he meant, George +went off 'ome, too. + +The week afore Christmas, Smith, the landlord, said as 'ow he 'ad got +enough money, and three days arter we all came up 'ere to see the prize +drawn. It was one o' the biggest hampers Smith could get; and there was +a fine, large turkey in it, a large goose, three pounds o' pork sausages, +a bottle o' whiskey, a bottle o' rum, a bottle o' brandy, a bottle o' +gin, and two bottles o' wine. The hamper was all decorated with holly, +and a little flag was stuck in the top. + +On'y men as belonged was allowed to feel the turkey and the goose, and +arter a time Smith said as 'ow p'r'aps they'd better leave off, and 'e +put all the things back in the hamper and fastened up the lid. + +"How are we going to draw the lottery?" ses John Biggs, the blacksmith. + +"There'll be twenty-three bits o' paper," ses Smith, "and they'll be +numbered from one to twenty-three. Then they'll be twisted up all the +same shape and put in this 'ere paper bag, which I shall 'old as each man +draws. The chap that draws the paper with the figger on it wins." + +He tore up twenty-three bits o' paper all about the same size, and then +with a black-lead pencil 'e put the numbers on, while everybody leaned +over 'im to see fair play. Then he twisted every bit o' paper up and +held them in his 'and. + +"Is that satisfactory?" he ses. + +"Couldn't be fairer," ses Bill Chambers. + +"Mind," ses Smith, putting them into a tall paper bag that had 'ad sugar +in it and shaking them up, "Number I wins the prize. Who's going to draw +fust?" + +All of 'em hung back and looked at each other; they all seemed to think +they'd 'ave a better chance when there wasn't so many numbers left in the +bag. + +"Come on," ses Smith, the landlord. "Some-body must be fust." + +"Go on, George Kettle," ses Bob Pretty. "You're sure to win. I 'ad a +dream you did." + +"Go on yourself," ses George. + +"I never 'ave no luck," ses Bob; "but if Henery Walker will draw fust, +I'll draw second. Somebody must begin." + +"O' course they must," ses Henery, "and if you're so anxious why don't +you 'ave fust try?" + +Bob Pretty tried to laugh it off, but they wouldn't 'ave it, and at last +he takes out a pocket-'andkerchief and offers it to Smith, the landlord. + +"All right, I'll go fust if you'll blindfold me," he ses. + +"There ain't no need for that, Bob," ses Mr. Smith. "You can't see in +the bag, and even if you could it wouldn't help you." + +"Never mind; you blindfold me," ses Bob; "it'll set a good example to the +others." + +Smith did it at last, and when Bob Pretty put his 'and in the bag and +pulled out a paper you might ha' heard a pin drop. + +"Open it and see what number it is, Mr. Smith," ses Bob Pretty. "Twenty- +three, I expect; I never 'ave no luck." + +Smith rolled out the paper, and then 'e turned pale and 'is eyes seemed +to stick right out of his 'ead. + +"He's won it!" he ses, in a choky voice. "It's Number I. Bob Pretty +'as won the prize." + +[Illustration: "He's won it!" he ses, in a choky voice. +"It's Number I."] + +You never 'eard such a noise in this 'ere public-'ouse afore or since; +everybody shouting their 'ardest, and Bill Chambers stamping up and down +the room as if he'd gone right out of his mind. + +"Silence!" ses Mr. Smith, at last. "Silence! How dare you make that +noise in my 'ouse, giving it a bad name? Bob Pretty 'as won it fair and +square. Nothing could ha' been fairer. You ought to be ashamed o' +yourselves." + +Bob Pretty wouldn't believe it at fust. He said that Smith was making +game of 'im, and, when Smith held the paper under 'is nose, he kept the +handkerchief on his eyes and wouldn't look at it. + +"I've seen you afore to-day," he says, nodding his 'ead. "I like a joke +as well as anybody, but it ain't fair to try and make fun of a pore, +'ard-working man like that." + +I never see a man so astonished in my life as Bob Pretty was, when 'e +found out it was really true. He seemed fair 'mazed-like, and stood +there scratching his 'ead, as if he didn't know where 'e was. He come +round at last, arter a pint o' beer that Smith 'ad stood 'im, and then he +made a little speech, thanking Smith for the fair way he 'ad acted, and +took up the hamper. + +"'Strewth, it is heavy," he ses, getting it up on his back. "Well, so +long, mates." + +"Ain't you--ain't you going to stand us a drink out o' one o' them +bottles?" ses Peter Gubbins, as Bob got to the door. + +Bob Pretty went out as if he didn't 'ear; then he stopped, sudden-like, +and turned round and put his 'ead in at the door agin, and stood looking +at 'em. + +"No, mates," he ses, at last, "and I wonder at you for asking, arter what +you've all said about me. I'm a pore man, but I've got my feelings. I +drawed fust becos nobody else would, and all the thanks I get for it is +to be called a thief." + +He went off down the road, and by and by Bill Chambers, wot 'ad been +sitting staring straight in front of 'im, got up and went to the door, +and stood looking arter 'im like a man in a dream. None of 'em seemed to +be able to believe that the lottery could be all over so soon, and Bob +Pretty going off with it, and when they did make up their minds to it, it +was one o' the most miserable sights you ever see. The idea that they +'ad been paying a pint a week for Bob Pretty for months nearly sent some +of 'em out of their minds. + +"It can't be 'elped," ses Mr. Smith. "He 'ad the pluck to draw fust, and +he won; anybody else might ha' done it. He gave you the offer, George +Kettle, and you, too, Henery Walker." + +Henery Walker was too low-spirited to answer 'im; and arter Smith 'ad +said "Hush!" to George Kettle three times, he up and put 'im outside for +the sake of the 'ouse. + +When 'e came back it was all quiet and everybody was staring their +'ardest at little Dicky Weed, the tailor, who was sitting with his head +in his 'ands, thinking, and every now and then taking them away and +looking up at the ceiling, or else leaning forward with a start and +looking as if 'e saw something crawling on the wall. + +"Wot's the matter with you?" ses Mr. Smith. + +Dicky Weed didn't answer 'im. He shut his eyes tight and then 'e jumps +up all of a sudden. "I've got it!" he says. "Where's that bag?" + +"Wot bag?" ses Mr. Smith, staring at 'im. "The bag with the papers in," +ses Dicky. + +"Where Bob Pretty ought to be," ses Bill Chambers. "On the fire." + +"Wot?" screams Dicky Weed. "Now you've been and spoilt everything!" + +"Speak English," ses Bill. + +"I will!" ses Dicky, trembling all over with temper. "Who asked you to +put it on the fire? Who asked you to put yourself forward? I see it all +now, and it's too late." + +"Wot's too late?" ses Sam Tones. + +"When Bob Pretty put his 'and in that bag," ses Dicky Weed, holding up +'is finger and looking at them, "he'd got a bit o' paper already in it--a +bit o' paper with the figger I on it. That's 'ow he done it. While we +was all watching Mr. Smith, he was getting 'is own bit o' paper ready." + +He 'ad to say it three times afore they understood 'im, and then they +went down on their knees and burnt their fingers picking up bits o' paper +that 'ad fallen in the fireplace. They found six pieces in all, but not +one with the number they was looking for on it, and then they all got up +and said wot ought to be done to Bob Pretty. + +"You can't do anything," ses Smith, the landlord. "You can't prove it. +After all, it's only Dicky's idea." + +Arf-a-dozen of 'em all began speaking at once, but Bill Chambers gave 'em +the wink, and pretended to agree with 'im. + +"We're going to have that hamper back," he ses, as soon as Mr. Smith 'ad +gone back to the bar, "but it won't do to let 'im know. He don't like to +think that Bob Pretty was one too many for 'im." + +"Let's all go to Bob Pretty's and take it," ses Peter Gubbins, wot 'ad +been in the Militia. + +Dicky Weed shook his 'ead. "He'd 'ave the lor on us for robbery," he +ses; "there's nothing he'd like better." + +They talked it over till closing-time, but nobody seemed to know wot to +do, and they stood outside in the bitter cold for over arf an hour still +trying to make up their minds 'ow to get that hamper back. Fust one went +off 'ome and then another, and at last, when there was on'y three or four +of 'em left, Henery Walker, wot prided himself on 'is artfulness, 'ad an +idea. + +"One of us must get Bob Pretty up 'ere to-morrow night and stand 'im a +pint, or p'r'aps two pints," he ses. "While he's here two other chaps +must 'ave a row close by his 'ouse and pretend to fight. Mrs. Pretty and +the young 'uns are sure to run out to look at it, and while they are out +another chap can go in quiet-like and get the hamper." + +It seemed a wunnerful good idea, and Bill Chambers said so; and 'e +flattered Henery Walker up until Henery didn't know where to look, as the +saying is. + +"And wot's to be done with the hamper when we've got it?" ses Sam Jones. + +"Have it drawed for agin," ses Henery. "It'll 'ave to be done on the +quiet, o' course." + +Sam Jones stood thinking for a bit. "Burn the hamper and draw lots for +everything separate," 'e ses, very slow. "If Bob Pretty ses it's 'is +turkey and goose and spirits, tell 'im to prove it. We sha'n't know +nothing about it." + +Henery Walker said it was a good plan; and arter talking it over they +walked 'ome all very pleased with theirselves. They talked it over next +day with the other chaps; and Henery Walker said arterwards that p'r'aps +it was talked over a bit too much. + +It took 'em some time to make up their minds about it, but at last it was +settled that Peter Gubbins was to stand Bob Pretty the beer; Ted Brown, +who was well known for his 'ot temper, and Joe Smith was to 'ave the +quarrel; and Henery Walker was to slip in and steal the hamper, and 'ide +the things up at his place. + +Bob Pretty fell into the trap at once. He was standing at 'is gate in +the dark, next day, smoking a pipe, when Peter Gubbins passed, and Peter, +arter stopping and asking 'im for a light, spoke about 'is luck in +getting the hamper, and told 'im he didn't bear no malice for it. + +"You 'ad the pluck to draw fust," he ses, "and you won." + +Bob Pretty said he was a Briton, and arter a little more talk Peter asked +'im to go and 'ave a pint with 'im to show that there was no ill-feeling. +They came into this 'ere Cauliflower public-'ouse like brothers, and in +less than ten minutes everybody was making as much fuss o' Bob Pretty as +if 'e'd been the best man in Claybury. + +"Arter all, a man can't 'elp winning a prize," ses Bill Chambers, looking +round. + +"I couldn't," ses Bob. + +He sat down and 'elped hisself out o' Sam Jones's baccy-box; and one or +two got up on the quiet and went outside to listen to wot was going on +down the road. Everybody was wondering wot was happening, and when Bob +Pretty got up and said 'e must be going, Bill Chambers caught 'old of him +by the coat and asked 'im to have arf a pint with 'im. + +Bob had the arf-pint, and arter that another one with Sam Jones, and then +'e said 'e really must be going, as his wife was expecting 'im. He +pushed Bill Chambers's 'at over his eyes--a thing Bill can't abear--and +arter filling 'is pipe agin from Sam Jones's box he got up and went. + +"Mind you," ses Bill Chambers, looking round, "if 'e comes back and ses +somebody 'as taken his hamper, nobody knows nothing about it." + +"I 'ope Henery Walker 'as got it all right," ses Dicky Weed. "When shall +we know?" + +"He'll come up 'ere and tell us," ses Bill Chambers. "It's time 'e was +here, a'most." + +Five minutes arterwards the door opened and Henery Walker came staggering +in. He was as white as a sheet, his 'at was knocked on one side of his +'ead, and there was two or three nasty-looking scratches on 'is cheek. +He came straight to Bill Chambers's mug--wot 'ad just been filled--and +emptied it, and then 'e sat down on a seat gasping for breath. + +[Illustration: "The door opened and Henery Walker came staggering in."] + +"Wots the matter, Henery?" ses Bill, staring at 'im with 'is mouth open. + +Henery Walker groaned and shook his 'ead. "Didn't you get the hamper?" +ses Bill, turning pale. Henery Walker shook his 'ead agin. + +"Shut up!" he ses, as Bill Chambers started finding fault. "I done the +best I could. Nothing could ha' 'appened better--to start with. +Directly Ted Brown and Joe Smith started, Mrs. Pretty and her sister, and +all the kids excepting the baby, run out, and they'd 'ardly gone afore I +was inside the back door and looking for that hamper, and I'd hardly +started afore I heard them coming back agin. I was at the foot o' the +stairs at the time, and, not knowing wot to do, I went up 'em into Bob's +bedroom." + +"Well?" ses Bill Chambers, as Henery Walker stopped and looked round. + +"A'most direckly arterwards I 'eard Mrs. Pretty and her sister coming +upstairs," ses Henery Walker, with a shudder. "I was under the bed at +the time, and afore I could say a word Mrs. Pretty gave a loud screech +and scratched my face something cruel. I thought she'd gone mad." + +"You've made a nice mess of it!" ses Bill Chambers. + +"Mess!" ses Henery, firing up. "Wot would you ha' done?" + +"I should ha' managed diff'rent," ses Bill Chambers. "Did she know who +you was?" + +"Know who I was?" ses Henery. "O' course she did. It's my belief that +Bob knew all about it and told 'er wot to do." + +"Well, you've done it now, Henery," ses Bill Chambers. "Still, that's +your affair." + +"Ho, is it?" ses Henery Walker. "You 'ad as much to do with it as I 'ad, +excepting that you was sitting up 'ere in comfort while I was doing all +the work. It's a wonder to me I got off as well as I did." + +Bill Chambers sat staring at 'im and scratching his 'ead, and just then +they all 'eard the voice of Bob Pretty, very distinct, outside, asking +for Henery Walker. Then the door opened, and Bob Pretty, carrying his +'ead very 'igh, walked into the room. + +"Where's Henery Walker?" he ses, in a loud voice. + +[Illustration: "'Where's Henery Walker?' he ses, in a loud voice."] + +Henery Walker put down the empty mug wot he'd been pretending to drink +out of and tried to smile at 'im. + +"Halloa, Bob!" he ses. + +"What was you doing in my 'ouse?" ses Bob Pretty, very severe. + +"I--I just looked in to see whether you was in, Bob," ses Henery. + +"That's why you was found under my bed, I s'pose?" ses Bob Pretty. +"I want a straight answer, Henery Walker, and I mean to 'ave it, else I'm +going off to Cudford for Policeman White." + +"I went there to get that hamper," ses Henery Walker, plucking up spirit. +"You won it unfair last night, and we determined for to get it back. So +now you know." + +"I call on all of you to witness that," ses Bob, looking round. "Henery +Walker went into my 'ouse to steal my hamper. He ses so, and it wasn't +'is fault he couldn't find it. I'm a pore man and I can't afford such +things; I sold it this morning, a bargain, for thirty bob." + +"Well, then there's no call to make a fuss over it, Bob," ses Bill +Chambers. + +"I sold it for thirty bob," ses Bob Pretty, "and when I went out this +evening I left the money on my bedroom mantelpiece--one pound, two +arf-crowns, two two-shilling pieces, and two sixpences. My wife and +her sister both saw it there. That they'll swear to." + +"Well, wot about it?" ses Sam Jones, staring at 'im. + +"Arter my pore wife 'ad begged and prayed Henery Walker on 'er bended +knees to spare 'er life and go," ses Bob Pretty, "she looked at the +mantel-piece and found the money 'ad disappeared." + +Henery Walker got up all white and shaking and flung 'is arms about, +trying to get 'is breath. + +"Do you mean to say I stole it?" he ses, at last. + +"O' course I do," ses Bob Pretty. "Why, you said yourself afore these +witnesses and Mr. Smith that you came to steal the hamper. Wot's the +difference between stealing the hamper and the money I sold it for?" + +Henery Walker tried for to answer 'im, but he couldn't speak a word. + +"I left my pore wife with 'er apron over her 'ead sobbing as if her 'art +would break," ses Bob Pretty; "not because o' the loss of the money so +much, but to think of Henery Walker doing such a thing--and 'aving to go +to jail for it." + +"I never touched your money, and you know it," ses Henery Walker, finding +his breath at last. I don't believe it was there. You and your wife 'ud +swear anything." + +"As you please, Henery," ses Bob Pretty. "Only I'm going straight off to +Cudford to see Policeman White; he'll be glad of a job, I know. There's +three of us to swear to it, and you was found under my bed." + +"Let bygones be bygones, Bob," ses Bill Chambers, trying to smile at 'im. + +"No, mate," ses Bob Pretty. "I'm going to 'ave my rights, but I don't +want to be 'ard on a man I've known all my life; and if, afore I go to my +bed to-night, the thirty shillings is brought to me, I won't say as I +won't look over it." + +He stood for a moment shaking his 'ead at them, and then, still holding +it very 'igh, he turned round and walked out. + +"He never left no money on the mantelpiece," ses Sam Jones, at last. + +"Don't you believe it. You go to jail, Henery." + +"Anything sooner than be done by Bob Pretty," ses George Kettle. + +"There's not much doing now, Henery," ses Bill Chambers, in a soft voice. + +Henery Walker wouldn't listen to 'em, and he jumped up and carried on +like a madman. His idea was for 'em all to club together to pay the +money, and to borrow it from Smith, the landlord, to go on with. They +wouldn't 'ear of it at fust, but arter Smith 'ad pointed out that they +might 'ave to go to jail with Henery, and said things about 'is license, +they gave way. Bob Pretty was just starting off to see Policeman White +when they took the money, and instead o' telling 'im wot they thought of +'im, as they 'ad intended, Henery Walker 'ad to walk alongside of 'im and +beg and pray of 'im to take the money. He took it at last as a favor to +Henery, and bought the hamper back with it next morning--cheap. +Leastways, he said so. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Prize Money, by W.W. Jacobs + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10790 *** diff --git a/10790-h.zip b/10790-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9f4e872 --- /dev/null +++ b/10790-h.zip diff --git a/10790-h/039.jpg b/10790-h/039.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..dcb7d73 --- /dev/null +++ b/10790-h/039.jpg diff --git a/10790-h/040.jpg b/10790-h/040.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..08e3c9e --- /dev/null +++ b/10790-h/040.jpg diff --git a/10790-h/041.jpg b/10790-h/041.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bd83de8 --- /dev/null +++ b/10790-h/041.jpg diff --git a/10790-h/042.jpg b/10790-h/042.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d32aa2f --- /dev/null +++ b/10790-h/042.jpg diff --git a/10790-h/10790-h.htm b/10790-h/10790-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..871f0fd --- /dev/null +++ b/10790-h/10790-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1202 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" + content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> +<meta content="pg2html (binary version 0.12a)" + name="generator"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of + Sailors' Knots: PRIZE MONEY + by W.W. Jacobs. +</title> +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + * { font-family: Times; + } + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin: 15%; + margin-top: .75em; + font-size: 14pt; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; } + PRE { font-family: Courier, monospaced;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; font-size: 14pt; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + // --> +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Prize Money, by W.W. Jacobs + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Prize Money + Sailor's Knots, Part 10. + +Author: W.W. Jacobs + +Release Date: January 22, 2004 [EBook #10790] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PRIZE MONEY *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<h1> + SAILORS' KNOTS +</h1> +<br /> +<h2> + By W.W. Jacobs +</h2> +<br /><br /> +<h3> + 1909 +</h3> + +<br><br> +<h2>Part 10.</h2> + + +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="title (50K)" src="title.jpg" height="718" width="453" /> +</center> +<br><br> +<br /><br /> +<hr> +<br /><br /> + + +<h2>List of Illustrations</h2> +<br /> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + + + +<p class="toc"><a href="#image-39"> +"The Sign of the Cauliflower Was Stiff With Snow." +</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#image-40"> +"He's Won It!" he Ses, in a Choky Voice. +"it's Number I." +</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#image-41"> +"The Door Opened and Henery Walker Came Staggering In." +</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#image-42"> +"'Where's Henery Walker?' he Ses, in a Loud Voice." +</a></p> + + + + + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + + + +<!--IMAGE END--> +<a name="2H_4_10"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h2> + PRIZE MONEY +</h2> +<p> + The old man stood by the window, gazing at the frozen fields beyond. The + sign of the Cauliflower was stiff with snow, and the breath of a pair of + waiting horses in a wagon beneath ascended in clouds of steam. +</p> +<a name="image-39"><!--IMG--></a> +<center> +<img src="039.jpg" height="444" width="486" +alt="'The Sign of the Cauliflower Was Stiff With Snow.' +"> +</center> +<!--IMAGE END--> +<p> + "Amusements" he said slowly, as he came back with a shiver and, resuming + his seat by the tap-room fire, looked at the wayfarer who had been idly + questioning him. "Claybury men don't have much time for amusements. + The last one I can call to mind was Bill Chambers being nailed up in a + pig-sty he was cleaning out, but there was such a fuss made over that + —by Bill—that it sort o' disheartened people." +</p> +<p> + He got up again restlessly, and, walking round the table, gazed long and + hard into three or four mugs. +</p> +<p> + "Sometimes a little gets left in them," he explained, meeting the + stranger's inquiring glance. The latter started, and, knocking on the + table with the handle of his knife, explained that he had been informed + by a man outside that his companion was the bitterest teetotaller in + Claybury. +</p> +<p> + "That's one o' Bob Pretty's larks," said the old man, flushing. "I see + you talking to 'im, and I thought as 'ow he warn't up to no good. + Biggest rascal in Claybury, he is. I've said so afore, and I'll say so + agin." +</p> +<p> + He bowed to the donor and buried his old face in the mug. +</p> +<p> + "A poacher!" he said, taking breath. "A thief!" he continued, after + another draught. "I wonder whether Smith spilt any of this a-carrying of + it in?" +</p> +<p> + He put down the empty mug and made a careful examination of the floor, + until a musical rapping on the table brought the landlord into the room + again. +</p> +<p> + "My best respects," he said, gratefully, as he placed the mug on the + settle by his side and slowly filled a long clay pipe. Next time you see + Bob Pretty ask 'im wot happened to the prize hamper. He's done a good + many things has Bob, but it'll be a long time afore Claybury men'll look + over that. +</p> +<p> + It was Henery Walker's idea. Henery 'ad been away to see an uncle of 'is + wife's wot had money and nobody to leave it to—leastways, so Henery + thought when he wasted his money going over to see 'im—and he came back + full of the idea, which he 'ad picked up from the old man. +</p> +<p> + "We each pay twopence a week till Christmas," he ses, "and we buy a + hamper with a goose or a turkey in it, and bottles o' rum and whiskey and + gin, as far as the money'll go, and then we all draw lots for it, and the + one that wins has it." +</p> +<p> + It took a lot of explaining to some of 'em, but Smith, the landlord, + helped Henery, and in less than four days twenty-three men had paid their + tuppences to Henery, who 'ad been made the seckitary, and told him to + hand them over to Smith in case he lost his memory. +</p> +<p> + Bob Pretty joined one arternoon on the quiet, and more than one of 'em + talked of 'aving their money back, but, arter Smith 'ad explained as 'ow + he would see fair play, they thought better of it. +</p> +<p> + "He'll 'ave the same chance as all of you," he ses. "No more and no + less." +</p> +<p> + "I'd feel more easy in my mind, though, if'e wasn't in it," ses Bill + Chambers, staring at Bob. "I never knew 'im to lose anything yet." +</p> +<p> + "You don't know everything, Bill," ses Bob, shaking his 'ead. "You don't + know me; else you wouldn't talk like that. I've never been caught doing + wrong yet, and I 'ope I never shall." +</p> +<p> + "It's all right, Bill," ses George Kettle. "Mr. Smith'll see fair, and + I'd sooner win Bob Pretty's money than anybody's." +</p> +<p> + "I 'ope you will, mate," ses Bob; "that's what I joined for." +</p> +<p> + "Bob's money is as good as anybody else's," ses George Kettle, looking + round at the others. "It don't signify to me where he got it from." +</p> +<p> + "Ah, I don't like to hear you talk like that George," ses Bob Pretty. + "I've thought more than once that you 'ad them ideas." +</p> +<p> + He drank up his beer and went off 'ome, shaking his 'cad, and, arter + three or four of'em 'ad explained to George Kettle wot he meant, George + went off 'ome, too. +</p> +<p> + The week afore Christmas, Smith, the landlord, said as 'ow he 'ad got + enough money, and three days arter we all came up 'ere to see the prize + drawn. It was one o' the biggest hampers Smith could get; and there was + a fine, large turkey in it, a large goose, three pounds o' pork sausages, + a bottle o' whiskey, a bottle o' rum, a bottle o' brandy, a bottle o' + gin, and two bottles o' wine. The hamper was all decorated with holly, + and a little flag was stuck in the top. +</p> +<p> + On'y men as belonged was allowed to feel the turkey and the goose, and + arter a time Smith said as 'ow p'r'aps they'd better leave off, and 'e + put all the things back in the hamper and fastened up the lid. +</p> +<p> + "How are we going to draw the lottery?" ses John Biggs, the blacksmith. +</p> +<p> + "There'll be twenty-three bits o' paper," ses Smith, "and they'll be + numbered from one to twenty-three. Then they'll be twisted up all the + same shape and put in this 'ere paper bag, which I shall 'old as each man + draws. The chap that draws the paper with the figger on it wins." +</p> +<p> + He tore up twenty-three bits o' paper all about the same size, and then + with a black-lead pencil 'e put the numbers on, while everybody leaned + over 'im to see fair play. Then he twisted every bit o' paper up and + held them in his 'and. +</p> +<p> + "Is that satisfactory?" he ses. +</p> +<p> + "Couldn't be fairer," ses Bill Chambers. +</p> +<p> + "Mind," ses Smith, putting them into a tall paper bag that had 'ad sugar + in it and shaking them up, "Number I wins the prize. Who's going to draw + fust?" +</p> +<p> + All of 'em hung back and looked at each other; they all seemed to think + they'd 'ave a better chance when there wasn't so many numbers left in the + bag. +</p> +<p> + "Come on," ses Smith, the landlord. "Some-body must be fust." +</p> +<p> + "Go on, George Kettle," ses Bob Pretty. "You're sure to win. I 'ad a + dream you did." +</p> +<p> + "Go on yourself," ses George. +</p> +<p> + "I never 'ave no luck," ses Bob; "but if Henery Walker will draw fust, + I'll draw second. Somebody must begin." +</p> +<p> + "O' course they must," ses Henery, "and if you're so anxious why don't + you 'ave fust try?" +</p> +<p> + Bob Pretty tried to laugh it off, but they wouldn't 'ave it, and at last + he takes out a pocket-'andkerchief and offers it to Smith, the landlord. +</p> +<p> + "All right, I'll go fust if you'll blindfold me," he ses. +</p> +<p> + "There ain't no need for that, Bob," ses Mr. Smith. "You can't see in + the bag, and even if you could it wouldn't help you." +</p> +<p> + "Never mind; you blindfold me," ses Bob; "it'll set a good example to the + others." +</p> +<p> + Smith did it at last, and when Bob Pretty put his 'and in the bag and + pulled out a paper you might ha' heard a pin drop. +</p> +<p> + "Open it and see what number it is, Mr. Smith," ses Bob Pretty. "Twenty- + three, I expect; I never 'ave no luck." +</p> +<p> + Smith rolled out the paper, and then 'e turned pale and 'is eyes seemed + to stick right out of his 'ead. +</p> +<p> + "He's won it!" he ses, in a choky voice. "It's Number I. Bob Pretty + 'as won the prize." +</p> +<a name="image-40"><!--IMG--></a> +<center> +<img src="040.jpg" height="452" width="571" +alt="'He's Won It!' he Ses, in a Choky Voice. +'it's Number I.' +"> +</center> +<!--IMAGE END--> +<p> + You never 'eard such a noise in this 'ere public-'ouse afore or since; + everybody shouting their 'ardest, and Bill Chambers stamping up and down + the room as if he'd gone right out of his mind. +</p> +<p> + "Silence!" ses Mr. Smith, at last. "Silence! How dare you make that + noise in my 'ouse, giving it a bad name? Bob Pretty 'as won it fair and + square. Nothing could ha' been fairer. You ought to be ashamed o' + yourselves." +</p> +<p> + Bob Pretty wouldn't believe it at fust. He said that Smith was making + game of 'im, and, when Smith held the paper under 'is nose, he kept the + handkerchief on his eyes and wouldn't look at it. +</p> +<p> + "I've seen you afore to-day," he says, nodding his 'ead. "I like a joke + as well as anybody, but it ain't fair to try and make fun of a pore, + 'ard-working man like that." +</p> +<p> + I never see a man so astonished in my life as Bob Pretty was, when 'e + found out it was really true. He seemed fair 'mazed-like, and stood + there scratching his 'ead, as if he didn't know where 'e was. He come + round at last, arter a pint o' beer that Smith 'ad stood 'im, and then he + made a little speech, thanking Smith for the fair way he 'ad acted, and + took up the hamper. +</p> +<p> + "'Strewth, it is heavy," he ses, getting it up on his back. "Well, so + long, mates." +</p> +<p> + "Ain't you—ain't you going to stand us a drink out o' one o' them + bottles?" ses Peter Gubbins, as Bob got to the door. +</p> +<p> + Bob Pretty went out as if he didn't 'ear; then he stopped, sudden-like, + and turned round and put his 'ead in at the door agin, and stood looking + at 'em. +</p> +<p> + "No, mates," he ses, at last, "and I wonder at you for asking, arter what + you've all said about me. I'm a pore man, but I've got my feelings. I + drawed fust becos nobody else would, and all the thanks I get for it is + to be called a thief." +</p> +<p> + He went off down the road, and by and by Bill Chambers, wot 'ad been + sitting staring straight in front of 'im, got up and went to the door, + and stood looking arter 'im like a man in a dream. None of 'em seemed to + be able to believe that the lottery could be all over so soon, and Bob + Pretty going off with it, and when they did make up their minds to it, it + was one o' the most miserable sights you ever see. The idea that they + 'ad been paying a pint a week for Bob Pretty for months nearly sent some + of 'em out of their minds. +</p> +<p> + "It can't be 'elped," ses Mr. Smith. "He 'ad the pluck to draw fust, and + he won; anybody else might ha' done it. He gave you the offer, George + Kettle, and you, too, Henery Walker." +</p> +<p> + Henery Walker was too low-spirited to answer 'im; and arter Smith 'ad + said "Hush!" to George Kettle three times, he up and put 'im outside for + the sake of the 'ouse. +</p> +<p> + When 'e came back it was all quiet and everybody was staring their + 'ardest at little Dicky Weed, the tailor, who was sitting with his head + in his 'ands, thinking, and every now and then taking them away and + looking up at the ceiling, or else leaning forward with a start and + looking as if 'e saw something crawling on the wall. +</p> +<p> + "Wot's the matter with you?" ses Mr. Smith. +</p> +<p> + Dicky Weed didn't answer 'im. He shut his eyes tight and then 'e jumps + up all of a sudden. "I've got it!" he says. "Where's that bag?" +</p> +<p> + "Wot bag?" ses Mr. Smith, staring at 'im. "The bag with the papers in," + ses Dicky. +</p> +<p> + "Where Bob Pretty ought to be," ses Bill Chambers. "On the fire." +</p> +<p> + "Wot?" screams Dicky Weed. "Now you've been and spoilt everything!" +</p> +<p> + "Speak English," ses Bill. +</p> +<p> + "I will!" ses Dicky, trembling all over with temper. "Who asked you to + put it on the fire? Who asked you to put yourself forward? I see it all + now, and it's too late." +</p> +<p> + "Wot's too late?" ses Sam Tones. +</p> +<p> + "When Bob Pretty put his 'and in that bag," ses Dicky Weed, holding up + 'is finger and looking at them, "he'd got a bit o' paper already in it—a + bit o' paper with the figger I on it. That's 'ow he done it. While we + was all watching Mr. Smith, he was getting 'is own bit o' paper ready." +</p> +<p> + He 'ad to say it three times afore they understood 'im, and then they + went down on their knees and burnt their fingers picking up bits o' paper + that 'ad fallen in the fireplace. They found six pieces in all, but not + one with the number they was looking for on it, and then they all got up + and said wot ought to be done to Bob Pretty. +</p> +<p> + "You can't do anything," ses Smith, the landlord. "You can't prove it. + After all, it's only Dicky's idea." +</p> +<p> + Arf-a-dozen of 'em all began speaking at once, but Bill Chambers gave 'em + the wink, and pretended to agree with 'im. +</p> +<p> + "We're going to have that hamper back," he ses, as soon as Mr. Smith 'ad + gone back to the bar, "but it won't do to let 'im know. He don't like to + think that Bob Pretty was one too many for 'im." +</p> +<p> + "Let's all go to Bob Pretty's and take it," ses Peter Gubbins, wot 'ad + been in the Militia. +</p> +<p> + Dicky Weed shook his 'ead. "He'd 'ave the lor on us for robbery," he + ses; "there's nothing he'd like better." +</p> +<p> + They talked it over till closing-time, but nobody seemed to know wot to + do, and they stood outside in the bitter cold for over arf an hour still + trying to make up their minds 'ow to get that hamper back. Fust one went + off 'ome and then another, and at last, when there was on'y three or four + of 'em left, Henery Walker, wot prided himself on 'is artfulness, 'ad an + idea. +</p> +<p> + "One of us must get Bob Pretty up 'ere to-morrow night and stand 'im a + pint, or p'r'aps two pints," he ses. "While he's here two other chaps + must 'ave a row close by his 'ouse and pretend to fight. Mrs. Pretty and + the young 'uns are sure to run out to look at it, and while they are out + another chap can go in quiet-like and get the hamper." +</p> +<p> + It seemed a wunnerful good idea, and Bill Chambers said so; and 'e + flattered Henery Walker up until Henery didn't know where to look, as the + saying is. +</p> +<p> + "And wot's to be done with the hamper when we've got it?" ses Sam Jones. +</p> +<p> + "Have it drawed for agin," ses Henery. "It'll 'ave to be done on the + quiet, o' course." +</p> +<p> + Sam Jones stood thinking for a bit. "Burn the hamper and draw lots for + everything separate," 'e ses, very slow. "If Bob Pretty ses it's 'is + turkey and goose and spirits, tell 'im to prove it. We sha'n't know + nothing about it." +</p> +<p> + Henery Walker said it was a good plan; and arter talking it over they + walked 'ome all very pleased with theirselves. They talked it over next + day with the other chaps; and Henery Walker said arterwards that p'r'aps + it was talked over a bit too much. +</p> +<p> + It took 'em some time to make up their minds about it, but at last it was + settled that Peter Gubbins was to stand Bob Pretty the beer; Ted Brown, + who was well known for his 'ot temper, and Joe Smith was to 'ave the + quarrel; and Henery Walker was to slip in and steal the hamper, and 'ide + the things up at his place. +</p> +<p> + Bob Pretty fell into the trap at once. He was standing at 'is gate in + the dark, next day, smoking a pipe, when Peter Gubbins passed, and Peter, + arter stopping and asking 'im for a light, spoke about 'is luck in + getting the hamper, and told 'im he didn't bear no malice for it. +</p> +<p> + "You 'ad the pluck to draw fust," he ses, "and you won." +</p> +<p> + Bob Pretty said he was a Briton, and arter a little more talk Peter asked + 'im to go and 'ave a pint with 'im to show that there was no ill-feeling. + They came into this 'ere Cauliflower public-'ouse like brothers, and in + less than ten minutes everybody was making as much fuss o' Bob Pretty as + if 'e'd been the best man in Claybury. +</p> +<p> + "Arter all, a man can't 'elp winning a prize," ses Bill Chambers, looking + round. +</p> +<p> + "I couldn't," ses Bob. +</p> +<p> + He sat down and 'elped hisself out o' Sam Jones's baccy-box; and one or + two got up on the quiet and went outside to listen to wot was going on + down the road. Everybody was wondering wot was happening, and when Bob + Pretty got up and said 'e must be going, Bill Chambers caught 'old of him + by the coat and asked 'im to have arf a pint with 'im. +</p> +<p> + Bob had the arf-pint, and arter that another one with Sam Jones, and then + 'e said 'e really must be going, as his wife was expecting 'im. He + pushed Bill Chambers's 'at over his eyes—a thing Bill can't abear—and + arter filling 'is pipe agin from Sam Jones's box he got up and went. +</p> +<p> + "Mind you," ses Bill Chambers, looking round, "if 'e comes back and ses + somebody 'as taken his hamper, nobody knows nothing about it." +</p> +<p> + "I 'ope Henery Walker 'as got it all right," ses Dicky Weed. "When shall + we know?" +</p> +<p> + "He'll come up 'ere and tell us," ses Bill Chambers. "It's time 'e was + here, a'most." +</p> +<p> + Five minutes arterwards the door opened and Henery Walker came staggering + in. He was as white as a sheet, his 'at was knocked on one side of his + 'ead, and there was two or three nasty-looking scratches on 'is cheek. + He came straight to Bill Chambers's mug—wot 'ad just been filled—and + emptied it, and then 'e sat down on a seat gasping for breath. +</p> +<a name="image-41"><!--IMG--></a> +<center> +<img src="041.jpg" height="489" width="599" +alt="'The Door Opened and Henery Walker Came Staggering In.' +"> +</center> +<!--IMAGE END--> +<p> + "Wots the matter, Henery?" ses Bill, staring at 'im with 'is mouth open. +</p> +<p> + Henery Walker groaned and shook his 'ead. "Didn't you get the hamper?" + ses Bill, turning pale. Henery Walker shook his 'ead agin. +</p> +<p> + "Shut up!" he ses, as Bill Chambers started finding fault. "I done the + best I could. Nothing could ha' 'appened better—to start with. + Directly Ted Brown and Joe Smith started, Mrs. Pretty and her sister, and + all the kids excepting the baby, run out, and they'd 'ardly gone afore I + was inside the back door and looking for that hamper, and I'd hardly + started afore I heard them coming back agin. I was at the foot o' the + stairs at the time, and, not knowing wot to do, I went up 'em into Bob's + bedroom." +</p> +<p> + "Well?" ses Bill Chambers, as Henery Walker stopped and looked round. +</p> +<p> + "A'most direckly arterwards I 'eard Mrs. Pretty and her sister coming + upstairs," ses Henery Walker, with a shudder. "I was under the bed at + the time, and afore I could say a word Mrs. Pretty gave a loud screech + and scratched my face something cruel. I thought she'd gone mad." +</p> +<p> + "You've made a nice mess of it!" ses Bill Chambers. +</p> +<p> + "Mess!" ses Henery, firing up. "Wot would you ha' done?" +</p> +<p> + "I should ha' managed diff'rent," ses Bill Chambers. "Did she know who + you was?" +</p> +<p> + "Know who I was?" ses Henery. "O' course she did. It's my belief that + Bob knew all about it and told 'er wot to do." +</p> +<p> + "Well, you've done it now, Henery," ses Bill Chambers. "Still, that's + your affair." +</p> +<p> + "Ho, is it?" ses Henery Walker. "You 'ad as much to do with it as I 'ad, + excepting that you was sitting up 'ere in comfort while I was doing all + the work. It's a wonder to me I got off as well as I did." +</p> +<p> + Bill Chambers sat staring at 'im and scratching his 'ead, and just then + they all 'eard the voice of Bob Pretty, very distinct, outside, asking + for Henery Walker. Then the door opened, and Bob Pretty, carrying his + 'ead very 'igh, walked into the room. +</p> +<p> + "Where's Henery Walker?" he ses, in a loud voice. +</p> +<a name="image-42"><!--IMG--></a> +<center> +<img src="042.jpg" height="523" width="584" +alt="''Where's Henery Walker?' he Ses, in a Loud Voice.' +"> +</center> +<!--IMAGE END--> +<p> + Henery Walker put down the empty mug wot he'd been pretending to drink + out of and tried to smile at 'im. +</p> +<p> + "Halloa, Bob!" he ses. +</p> +<p> + "What was you doing in my 'ouse?" ses Bob Pretty, very severe. +</p> +<p> + "I—I just looked in to see whether you was in, Bob," ses Henery. +</p> +<p> + "That's why you was found under my bed, I s'pose?" ses Bob Pretty. + "I want a straight answer, Henery Walker, and I mean to 'ave it, else I'm + going off to Cudford for Policeman White." +</p> +<p> + "I went there to get that hamper," ses Henery Walker, plucking up spirit. + "You won it unfair last night, and we determined for to get it back. So + now you know." +</p> +<p> + "I call on all of you to witness that," ses Bob, looking round. "Henery + Walker went into my 'ouse to steal my hamper. He ses so, and it wasn't + 'is fault he couldn't find it. I'm a pore man and I can't afford such + things; I sold it this morning, a bargain, for thirty bob." +</p> +<p> + "Well, then there's no call to make a fuss over it, Bob," ses Bill + Chambers. +</p> +<p> + "I sold it for thirty bob," ses Bob Pretty, "and when I went out this + evening I left the money on my bedroom mantelpiece—one pound, two + arf-crowns, two two-shilling pieces, and two sixpences. My wife and + her sister both saw it there. That they'll swear to." +</p> +<p> + "Well, wot about it?" ses Sam Jones, staring at 'im. +</p> +<p> + "Arter my pore wife 'ad begged and prayed Henery Walker on 'er bended + knees to spare 'er life and go," ses Bob Pretty, "she looked at the + mantel-piece and found the money 'ad disappeared." +</p> +<p> + Henery Walker got up all white and shaking and flung 'is arms about, + trying to get 'is breath. +</p> +<p> + "Do you mean to say I stole it?" he ses, at last. +</p> +<p> + "O' course I do," ses Bob Pretty. "Why, you said yourself afore these + witnesses and Mr. Smith that you came to steal the hamper. Wot's the + difference between stealing the hamper and the money I sold it for?" +</p> +<p> + Henery Walker tried for to answer 'im, but he couldn't speak a word. +</p> +<p> + "I left my pore wife with 'er apron over her 'ead sobbing as if her 'art + would break," ses Bob Pretty; "not because o' the loss of the money so + much, but to think of Henery Walker doing such a thing—and 'aving to go + to jail for it." +</p> +<p> + "I never touched your money, and you know it," ses Henery Walker, finding + his breath at last. I don't believe it was there. You and your wife 'ud + swear anything." +</p> +<p> + "As you please, Henery," ses Bob Pretty. "Only I'm going straight off to + Cudford to see Policeman White; he'll be glad of a job, I know. There's + three of us to swear to it, and you was found under my bed." +</p> +<p> + "Let bygones be bygones, Bob," ses Bill Chambers, trying to smile at 'im. +</p> +<p> + "No, mate," ses Bob Pretty. "I'm going to 'ave my rights, but I don't + want to be 'ard on a man I've known all my life; and if, afore I go to my + bed to-night, the thirty shillings is brought to me, I won't say as I + won't look over it." +</p> +<p> + He stood for a moment shaking his 'ead at them, and then, still holding + it very 'igh, he turned round and walked out. +</p> +<p> + "He never left no money on the mantelpiece," ses Sam Jones, at last. +</p> +<p> + "Don't you believe it. You go to jail, Henery." +</p> +<p> + "Anything sooner than be done by Bob Pretty," ses George Kettle. +</p> +<p> + "There's not much doing now, Henery," ses Bill Chambers, in a soft voice. +</p> +<p> + Henery Walker wouldn't listen to 'em, and he jumped up and carried on + like a madman. His idea was for 'em all to club together to pay the + money, and to borrow it from Smith, the landlord, to go on with. They + wouldn't 'ear of it at fust, but arter Smith 'ad pointed out that they + might 'ave to go to jail with Henery, and said things about 'is license, + they gave way. Bob Pretty was just starting off to see Policeman White + when they took the money, and instead o' telling 'im wot they thought of + 'im, as they 'ad intended, Henery Walker 'ad to walk alongside of 'im and + beg and pray of 'im to take the money. He took it at last as a favor to + Henery, and bought the hamper back with it next morning—cheap. + Leastways, he said so. +</p> + + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Prize Money, by W.W. 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Jacobs + +Release Date: January 22, 2004 [EBook #10790] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PRIZE MONEY *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + +SAILORS' KNOTS + +By W.W. Jacobs + + +1909 + + + +PRIZE MONEY + + +The old man stood by the window, gazing at the frozen fields beyond. The +sign of the Cauliflower was stiff with snow, and the breath of a pair of +waiting horses in a wagon beneath ascended in clouds of steam. + +[Illustration: "The sign of the Cauliflower was stiff with snow."] + +"Amusements" he said slowly, as he came back with a shiver and, resuming +his seat by the tap-room fire, looked at the wayfarer who had been idly +questioning him. "Claybury men don't have much time for amusements. +The last one I can call to mind was Bill Chambers being nailed up in a +pig-sty he was cleaning out, but there was such a fuss made over that +--by Bill--that it sort o' disheartened people." + +He got up again restlessly, and, walking round the table, gazed long and +hard into three or four mugs. + +"Sometimes a little gets left in them," he explained, meeting the +stranger's inquiring glance. The latter started, and, knocking on the +table with the handle of his knife, explained that he had been informed +by a man outside that his companion was the bitterest teetotaller in +Claybury. + +"That's one o' Bob Pretty's larks," said the old man, flushing. "I see +you talking to 'im, and I thought as 'ow he warn't up to no good. +Biggest rascal in Claybury, he is. I've said so afore, and I'll say so +agin." + +He bowed to the donor and buried his old face in the mug. + +"A poacher!" he said, taking breath. "A thief!" he continued, after +another draught. "I wonder whether Smith spilt any of this a-carrying of +it in?" + +He put down the empty mug and made a careful examination of the floor, +until a musical rapping on the table brought the landlord into the room +again. + +"My best respects," he said, gratefully, as he placed the mug on the +settle by his side and slowly filled a long clay pipe. Next time you see +Bob Pretty ask 'im wot happened to the prize hamper. He's done a good +many things has Bob, but it'll be a long time afore Claybury men'll look +over that. + +It was Henery Walker's idea. Henery 'ad been away to see an uncle of 'is +wife's wot had money and nobody to leave it to--leastways, so Henery +thought when he wasted his money going over to see 'im--and he came back +full of the idea, which he 'ad picked up from the old man. + +"We each pay twopence a week till Christmas," he ses, "and we buy a +hamper with a goose or a turkey in it, and bottles o' rum and whiskey and +gin, as far as the money'll go, and then we all draw lots for it, and the +one that wins has it." + +It took a lot of explaining to some of 'em, but Smith, the landlord, +helped Henery, and in less than four days twenty-three men had paid their +tuppences to Henery, who 'ad been made the seckitary, and told him to +hand them over to Smith in case he lost his memory. + +Bob Pretty joined one arternoon on the quiet, and more than one of 'em +talked of 'aving their money back, but, arter Smith 'ad explained as 'ow +he would see fair play, they thought better of it. + +"He'll 'ave the same chance as all of you," he ses. "No more and no +less." + +"I'd feel more easy in my mind, though, if'e wasn't in it," ses Bill +Chambers, staring at Bob. "I never knew 'im to lose anything yet." + +"You don't know everything, Bill," ses Bob, shaking his 'ead. "You don't +know me; else you wouldn't talk like that. I've never been caught doing +wrong yet, and I 'ope I never shall." + +"It's all right, Bill," ses George Kettle. "Mr. Smith'll see fair, and +I'd sooner win Bob Pretty's money than anybody's." + +"I 'ope you will, mate," ses Bob; "that's what I joined for." + +"Bob's money is as good as anybody else's," ses George Kettle, looking +round at the others. "It don't signify to me where he got it from." + +"Ah, I don't like to hear you talk like that George," ses Bob Pretty. +"I've thought more than once that you 'ad them ideas." + +He drank up his beer and went off 'ome, shaking his 'cad, and, arter +three or four of'em 'ad explained to George Kettle wot he meant, George +went off 'ome, too. + +The week afore Christmas, Smith, the landlord, said as 'ow he 'ad got +enough money, and three days arter we all came up 'ere to see the prize +drawn. It was one o' the biggest hampers Smith could get; and there was +a fine, large turkey in it, a large goose, three pounds o' pork sausages, +a bottle o' whiskey, a bottle o' rum, a bottle o' brandy, a bottle o' +gin, and two bottles o' wine. The hamper was all decorated with holly, +and a little flag was stuck in the top. + +On'y men as belonged was allowed to feel the turkey and the goose, and +arter a time Smith said as 'ow p'r'aps they'd better leave off, and 'e +put all the things back in the hamper and fastened up the lid. + +"How are we going to draw the lottery?" ses John Biggs, the blacksmith. + +"There'll be twenty-three bits o' paper," ses Smith, "and they'll be +numbered from one to twenty-three. Then they'll be twisted up all the +same shape and put in this 'ere paper bag, which I shall 'old as each man +draws. The chap that draws the paper with the figger on it wins." + +He tore up twenty-three bits o' paper all about the same size, and then +with a black-lead pencil 'e put the numbers on, while everybody leaned +over 'im to see fair play. Then he twisted every bit o' paper up and +held them in his 'and. + +"Is that satisfactory?" he ses. + +"Couldn't be fairer," ses Bill Chambers. + +"Mind," ses Smith, putting them into a tall paper bag that had 'ad sugar +in it and shaking them up, "Number I wins the prize. Who's going to draw +fust?" + +All of 'em hung back and looked at each other; they all seemed to think +they'd 'ave a better chance when there wasn't so many numbers left in the +bag. + +"Come on," ses Smith, the landlord. "Some-body must be fust." + +"Go on, George Kettle," ses Bob Pretty. "You're sure to win. I 'ad a +dream you did." + +"Go on yourself," ses George. + +"I never 'ave no luck," ses Bob; "but if Henery Walker will draw fust, +I'll draw second. Somebody must begin." + +"O' course they must," ses Henery, "and if you're so anxious why don't +you 'ave fust try?" + +Bob Pretty tried to laugh it off, but they wouldn't 'ave it, and at last +he takes out a pocket-'andkerchief and offers it to Smith, the landlord. + +"All right, I'll go fust if you'll blindfold me," he ses. + +"There ain't no need for that, Bob," ses Mr. Smith. "You can't see in +the bag, and even if you could it wouldn't help you." + +"Never mind; you blindfold me," ses Bob; "it'll set a good example to the +others." + +Smith did it at last, and when Bob Pretty put his 'and in the bag and +pulled out a paper you might ha' heard a pin drop. + +"Open it and see what number it is, Mr. Smith," ses Bob Pretty. "Twenty- +three, I expect; I never 'ave no luck." + +Smith rolled out the paper, and then 'e turned pale and 'is eyes seemed +to stick right out of his 'ead. + +"He's won it!" he ses, in a choky voice. "It's Number I. Bob Pretty +'as won the prize." + +[Illustration: "He's won it!" he ses, in a choky voice. +"It's Number I."] + +You never 'eard such a noise in this 'ere public-'ouse afore or since; +everybody shouting their 'ardest, and Bill Chambers stamping up and down +the room as if he'd gone right out of his mind. + +"Silence!" ses Mr. Smith, at last. "Silence! How dare you make that +noise in my 'ouse, giving it a bad name? Bob Pretty 'as won it fair and +square. Nothing could ha' been fairer. You ought to be ashamed o' +yourselves." + +Bob Pretty wouldn't believe it at fust. He said that Smith was making +game of 'im, and, when Smith held the paper under 'is nose, he kept the +handkerchief on his eyes and wouldn't look at it. + +"I've seen you afore to-day," he says, nodding his 'ead. "I like a joke +as well as anybody, but it ain't fair to try and make fun of a pore, +'ard-working man like that." + +I never see a man so astonished in my life as Bob Pretty was, when 'e +found out it was really true. He seemed fair 'mazed-like, and stood +there scratching his 'ead, as if he didn't know where 'e was. He come +round at last, arter a pint o' beer that Smith 'ad stood 'im, and then he +made a little speech, thanking Smith for the fair way he 'ad acted, and +took up the hamper. + +"'Strewth, it is heavy," he ses, getting it up on his back. "Well, so +long, mates." + +"Ain't you--ain't you going to stand us a drink out o' one o' them +bottles?" ses Peter Gubbins, as Bob got to the door. + +Bob Pretty went out as if he didn't 'ear; then he stopped, sudden-like, +and turned round and put his 'ead in at the door agin, and stood looking +at 'em. + +"No, mates," he ses, at last, "and I wonder at you for asking, arter what +you've all said about me. I'm a pore man, but I've got my feelings. I +drawed fust becos nobody else would, and all the thanks I get for it is +to be called a thief." + +He went off down the road, and by and by Bill Chambers, wot 'ad been +sitting staring straight in front of 'im, got up and went to the door, +and stood looking arter 'im like a man in a dream. None of 'em seemed to +be able to believe that the lottery could be all over so soon, and Bob +Pretty going off with it, and when they did make up their minds to it, it +was one o' the most miserable sights you ever see. The idea that they +'ad been paying a pint a week for Bob Pretty for months nearly sent some +of 'em out of their minds. + +"It can't be 'elped," ses Mr. Smith. "He 'ad the pluck to draw fust, and +he won; anybody else might ha' done it. He gave you the offer, George +Kettle, and you, too, Henery Walker." + +Henery Walker was too low-spirited to answer 'im; and arter Smith 'ad +said "Hush!" to George Kettle three times, he up and put 'im outside for +the sake of the 'ouse. + +When 'e came back it was all quiet and everybody was staring their +'ardest at little Dicky Weed, the tailor, who was sitting with his head +in his 'ands, thinking, and every now and then taking them away and +looking up at the ceiling, or else leaning forward with a start and +looking as if 'e saw something crawling on the wall. + +"Wot's the matter with you?" ses Mr. Smith. + +Dicky Weed didn't answer 'im. He shut his eyes tight and then 'e jumps +up all of a sudden. "I've got it!" he says. "Where's that bag?" + +"Wot bag?" ses Mr. Smith, staring at 'im. "The bag with the papers in," +ses Dicky. + +"Where Bob Pretty ought to be," ses Bill Chambers. "On the fire." + +"Wot?" screams Dicky Weed. "Now you've been and spoilt everything!" + +"Speak English," ses Bill. + +"I will!" ses Dicky, trembling all over with temper. "Who asked you to +put it on the fire? Who asked you to put yourself forward? I see it all +now, and it's too late." + +"Wot's too late?" ses Sam Tones. + +"When Bob Pretty put his 'and in that bag," ses Dicky Weed, holding up +'is finger and looking at them, "he'd got a bit o' paper already in it--a +bit o' paper with the figger I on it. That's 'ow he done it. While we +was all watching Mr. Smith, he was getting 'is own bit o' paper ready." + +He 'ad to say it three times afore they understood 'im, and then they +went down on their knees and burnt their fingers picking up bits o' paper +that 'ad fallen in the fireplace. They found six pieces in all, but not +one with the number they was looking for on it, and then they all got up +and said wot ought to be done to Bob Pretty. + +"You can't do anything," ses Smith, the landlord. "You can't prove it. +After all, it's only Dicky's idea." + +Arf-a-dozen of 'em all began speaking at once, but Bill Chambers gave 'em +the wink, and pretended to agree with 'im. + +"We're going to have that hamper back," he ses, as soon as Mr. Smith 'ad +gone back to the bar, "but it won't do to let 'im know. He don't like to +think that Bob Pretty was one too many for 'im." + +"Let's all go to Bob Pretty's and take it," ses Peter Gubbins, wot 'ad +been in the Militia. + +Dicky Weed shook his 'ead. "He'd 'ave the lor on us for robbery," he +ses; "there's nothing he'd like better." + +They talked it over till closing-time, but nobody seemed to know wot to +do, and they stood outside in the bitter cold for over arf an hour still +trying to make up their minds 'ow to get that hamper back. Fust one went +off 'ome and then another, and at last, when there was on'y three or four +of 'em left, Henery Walker, wot prided himself on 'is artfulness, 'ad an +idea. + +"One of us must get Bob Pretty up 'ere to-morrow night and stand 'im a +pint, or p'r'aps two pints," he ses. "While he's here two other chaps +must 'ave a row close by his 'ouse and pretend to fight. Mrs. Pretty and +the young 'uns are sure to run out to look at it, and while they are out +another chap can go in quiet-like and get the hamper." + +It seemed a wunnerful good idea, and Bill Chambers said so; and 'e +flattered Henery Walker up until Henery didn't know where to look, as the +saying is. + +"And wot's to be done with the hamper when we've got it?" ses Sam Jones. + +"Have it drawed for agin," ses Henery. "It'll 'ave to be done on the +quiet, o' course." + +Sam Jones stood thinking for a bit. "Burn the hamper and draw lots for +everything separate," 'e ses, very slow. "If Bob Pretty ses it's 'is +turkey and goose and spirits, tell 'im to prove it. We sha'n't know +nothing about it." + +Henery Walker said it was a good plan; and arter talking it over they +walked 'ome all very pleased with theirselves. They talked it over next +day with the other chaps; and Henery Walker said arterwards that p'r'aps +it was talked over a bit too much. + +It took 'em some time to make up their minds about it, but at last it was +settled that Peter Gubbins was to stand Bob Pretty the beer; Ted Brown, +who was well known for his 'ot temper, and Joe Smith was to 'ave the +quarrel; and Henery Walker was to slip in and steal the hamper, and 'ide +the things up at his place. + +Bob Pretty fell into the trap at once. He was standing at 'is gate in +the dark, next day, smoking a pipe, when Peter Gubbins passed, and Peter, +arter stopping and asking 'im for a light, spoke about 'is luck in +getting the hamper, and told 'im he didn't bear no malice for it. + +"You 'ad the pluck to draw fust," he ses, "and you won." + +Bob Pretty said he was a Briton, and arter a little more talk Peter asked +'im to go and 'ave a pint with 'im to show that there was no ill-feeling. +They came into this 'ere Cauliflower public-'ouse like brothers, and in +less than ten minutes everybody was making as much fuss o' Bob Pretty as +if 'e'd been the best man in Claybury. + +"Arter all, a man can't 'elp winning a prize," ses Bill Chambers, looking +round. + +"I couldn't," ses Bob. + +He sat down and 'elped hisself out o' Sam Jones's baccy-box; and one or +two got up on the quiet and went outside to listen to wot was going on +down the road. Everybody was wondering wot was happening, and when Bob +Pretty got up and said 'e must be going, Bill Chambers caught 'old of him +by the coat and asked 'im to have arf a pint with 'im. + +Bob had the arf-pint, and arter that another one with Sam Jones, and then +'e said 'e really must be going, as his wife was expecting 'im. He +pushed Bill Chambers's 'at over his eyes--a thing Bill can't abear--and +arter filling 'is pipe agin from Sam Jones's box he got up and went. + +"Mind you," ses Bill Chambers, looking round, "if 'e comes back and ses +somebody 'as taken his hamper, nobody knows nothing about it." + +"I 'ope Henery Walker 'as got it all right," ses Dicky Weed. "When shall +we know?" + +"He'll come up 'ere and tell us," ses Bill Chambers. "It's time 'e was +here, a'most." + +Five minutes arterwards the door opened and Henery Walker came staggering +in. He was as white as a sheet, his 'at was knocked on one side of his +'ead, and there was two or three nasty-looking scratches on 'is cheek. +He came straight to Bill Chambers's mug--wot 'ad just been filled--and +emptied it, and then 'e sat down on a seat gasping for breath. + +[Illustration: "The door opened and Henery Walker came staggering in."] + +"Wots the matter, Henery?" ses Bill, staring at 'im with 'is mouth open. + +Henery Walker groaned and shook his 'ead. "Didn't you get the hamper?" +ses Bill, turning pale. Henery Walker shook his 'ead agin. + +"Shut up!" he ses, as Bill Chambers started finding fault. "I done the +best I could. Nothing could ha' 'appened better--to start with. +Directly Ted Brown and Joe Smith started, Mrs. Pretty and her sister, and +all the kids excepting the baby, run out, and they'd 'ardly gone afore I +was inside the back door and looking for that hamper, and I'd hardly +started afore I heard them coming back agin. I was at the foot o' the +stairs at the time, and, not knowing wot to do, I went up 'em into Bob's +bedroom." + +"Well?" ses Bill Chambers, as Henery Walker stopped and looked round. + +"A'most direckly arterwards I 'eard Mrs. Pretty and her sister coming +upstairs," ses Henery Walker, with a shudder. "I was under the bed at +the time, and afore I could say a word Mrs. Pretty gave a loud screech +and scratched my face something cruel. I thought she'd gone mad." + +"You've made a nice mess of it!" ses Bill Chambers. + +"Mess!" ses Henery, firing up. "Wot would you ha' done?" + +"I should ha' managed diff'rent," ses Bill Chambers. "Did she know who +you was?" + +"Know who I was?" ses Henery. "O' course she did. It's my belief that +Bob knew all about it and told 'er wot to do." + +"Well, you've done it now, Henery," ses Bill Chambers. "Still, that's +your affair." + +"Ho, is it?" ses Henery Walker. "You 'ad as much to do with it as I 'ad, +excepting that you was sitting up 'ere in comfort while I was doing all +the work. It's a wonder to me I got off as well as I did." + +Bill Chambers sat staring at 'im and scratching his 'ead, and just then +they all 'eard the voice of Bob Pretty, very distinct, outside, asking +for Henery Walker. Then the door opened, and Bob Pretty, carrying his +'ead very 'igh, walked into the room. + +"Where's Henery Walker?" he ses, in a loud voice. + +[Illustration: "'Where's Henery Walker?' he ses, in a loud voice."] + +Henery Walker put down the empty mug wot he'd been pretending to drink +out of and tried to smile at 'im. + +"Halloa, Bob!" he ses. + +"What was you doing in my 'ouse?" ses Bob Pretty, very severe. + +"I--I just looked in to see whether you was in, Bob," ses Henery. + +"That's why you was found under my bed, I s'pose?" ses Bob Pretty. +"I want a straight answer, Henery Walker, and I mean to 'ave it, else I'm +going off to Cudford for Policeman White." + +"I went there to get that hamper," ses Henery Walker, plucking up spirit. +"You won it unfair last night, and we determined for to get it back. So +now you know." + +"I call on all of you to witness that," ses Bob, looking round. "Henery +Walker went into my 'ouse to steal my hamper. He ses so, and it wasn't +'is fault he couldn't find it. I'm a pore man and I can't afford such +things; I sold it this morning, a bargain, for thirty bob." + +"Well, then there's no call to make a fuss over it, Bob," ses Bill +Chambers. + +"I sold it for thirty bob," ses Bob Pretty, "and when I went out this +evening I left the money on my bedroom mantelpiece--one pound, two +arf-crowns, two two-shilling pieces, and two sixpences. My wife and +her sister both saw it there. That they'll swear to." + +"Well, wot about it?" ses Sam Jones, staring at 'im. + +"Arter my pore wife 'ad begged and prayed Henery Walker on 'er bended +knees to spare 'er life and go," ses Bob Pretty, "she looked at the +mantel-piece and found the money 'ad disappeared." + +Henery Walker got up all white and shaking and flung 'is arms about, +trying to get 'is breath. + +"Do you mean to say I stole it?" he ses, at last. + +"O' course I do," ses Bob Pretty. "Why, you said yourself afore these +witnesses and Mr. Smith that you came to steal the hamper. Wot's the +difference between stealing the hamper and the money I sold it for?" + +Henery Walker tried for to answer 'im, but he couldn't speak a word. + +"I left my pore wife with 'er apron over her 'ead sobbing as if her 'art +would break," ses Bob Pretty; "not because o' the loss of the money so +much, but to think of Henery Walker doing such a thing--and 'aving to go +to jail for it." + +"I never touched your money, and you know it," ses Henery Walker, finding +his breath at last. I don't believe it was there. You and your wife 'ud +swear anything." + +"As you please, Henery," ses Bob Pretty. "Only I'm going straight off to +Cudford to see Policeman White; he'll be glad of a job, I know. There's +three of us to swear to it, and you was found under my bed." + +"Let bygones be bygones, Bob," ses Bill Chambers, trying to smile at 'im. + +"No, mate," ses Bob Pretty. "I'm going to 'ave my rights, but I don't +want to be 'ard on a man I've known all my life; and if, afore I go to my +bed to-night, the thirty shillings is brought to me, I won't say as I +won't look over it." + +He stood for a moment shaking his 'ead at them, and then, still holding +it very 'igh, he turned round and walked out. + +"He never left no money on the mantelpiece," ses Sam Jones, at last. + +"Don't you believe it. You go to jail, Henery." + +"Anything sooner than be done by Bob Pretty," ses George Kettle. + +"There's not much doing now, Henery," ses Bill Chambers, in a soft voice. + +Henery Walker wouldn't listen to 'em, and he jumped up and carried on +like a madman. His idea was for 'em all to club together to pay the +money, and to borrow it from Smith, the landlord, to go on with. They +wouldn't 'ear of it at fust, but arter Smith 'ad pointed out that they +might 'ave to go to jail with Henery, and said things about 'is license, +they gave way. Bob Pretty was just starting off to see Policeman White +when they took the money, and instead o' telling 'im wot they thought of +'im, as they 'ad intended, Henery Walker 'ad to walk alongside of 'im and +beg and pray of 'im to take the money. He took it at last as a favor to +Henery, and bought the hamper back with it next morning--cheap. +Leastways, he said so. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Prize Money, by W.W. 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Jacobs. +</title> +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + * { font-family: Times; + } + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin: 15%; + margin-top: .75em; + font-size: 14pt; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; } + PRE { font-family: Courier, monospaced;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; font-size: 14pt; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + // --> +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Prize Money, by W.W. Jacobs + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Prize Money + Sailor's Knots, Part 10. + +Author: W.W. Jacobs + +Release Date: January 22, 2004 [EBook #10790] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PRIZE MONEY *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<h1> + SAILORS' KNOTS +</h1> +<br /> +<h2> + By W.W. Jacobs +</h2> +<br /><br /> +<h3> + 1909 +</h3> + +<br><br> +<h2>Part 10.</h2> + + +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="title (50K)" src="title.jpg" height="718" width="453" /> +</center> +<br><br> +<br /><br /> +<hr> +<br /><br /> + + +<h2>List of Illustrations</h2> +<br /> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + + + +<p class="toc"><a href="#image-39"> +"The Sign of the Cauliflower Was Stiff With Snow." +</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#image-40"> +"He's Won It!" he Ses, in a Choky Voice. +"it's Number I." +</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#image-41"> +"The Door Opened and Henery Walker Came Staggering In." +</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#image-42"> +"'Where's Henery Walker?' he Ses, in a Loud Voice." +</a></p> + + + + + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + + + +<!--IMAGE END--> +<a name="2H_4_10"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h2> + PRIZE MONEY +</h2> +<p> + The old man stood by the window, gazing at the frozen fields beyond. The + sign of the Cauliflower was stiff with snow, and the breath of a pair of + waiting horses in a wagon beneath ascended in clouds of steam. +</p> +<a name="image-39"><!--IMG--></a> +<center> +<img src="039.jpg" height="444" width="486" +alt="'The Sign of the Cauliflower Was Stiff With Snow.' +"> +</center> +<!--IMAGE END--> +<p> + "Amusements" he said slowly, as he came back with a shiver and, resuming + his seat by the tap-room fire, looked at the wayfarer who had been idly + questioning him. "Claybury men don't have much time for amusements. + The last one I can call to mind was Bill Chambers being nailed up in a + pig-sty he was cleaning out, but there was such a fuss made over that + —by Bill—that it sort o' disheartened people." +</p> +<p> + He got up again restlessly, and, walking round the table, gazed long and + hard into three or four mugs. +</p> +<p> + "Sometimes a little gets left in them," he explained, meeting the + stranger's inquiring glance. The latter started, and, knocking on the + table with the handle of his knife, explained that he had been informed + by a man outside that his companion was the bitterest teetotaller in + Claybury. +</p> +<p> + "That's one o' Bob Pretty's larks," said the old man, flushing. "I see + you talking to 'im, and I thought as 'ow he warn't up to no good. + Biggest rascal in Claybury, he is. I've said so afore, and I'll say so + agin." +</p> +<p> + He bowed to the donor and buried his old face in the mug. +</p> +<p> + "A poacher!" he said, taking breath. "A thief!" he continued, after + another draught. "I wonder whether Smith spilt any of this a-carrying of + it in?" +</p> +<p> + He put down the empty mug and made a careful examination of the floor, + until a musical rapping on the table brought the landlord into the room + again. +</p> +<p> + "My best respects," he said, gratefully, as he placed the mug on the + settle by his side and slowly filled a long clay pipe. Next time you see + Bob Pretty ask 'im wot happened to the prize hamper. He's done a good + many things has Bob, but it'll be a long time afore Claybury men'll look + over that. +</p> +<p> + It was Henery Walker's idea. Henery 'ad been away to see an uncle of 'is + wife's wot had money and nobody to leave it to—leastways, so Henery + thought when he wasted his money going over to see 'im—and he came back + full of the idea, which he 'ad picked up from the old man. +</p> +<p> + "We each pay twopence a week till Christmas," he ses, "and we buy a + hamper with a goose or a turkey in it, and bottles o' rum and whiskey and + gin, as far as the money'll go, and then we all draw lots for it, and the + one that wins has it." +</p> +<p> + It took a lot of explaining to some of 'em, but Smith, the landlord, + helped Henery, and in less than four days twenty-three men had paid their + tuppences to Henery, who 'ad been made the seckitary, and told him to + hand them over to Smith in case he lost his memory. +</p> +<p> + Bob Pretty joined one arternoon on the quiet, and more than one of 'em + talked of 'aving their money back, but, arter Smith 'ad explained as 'ow + he would see fair play, they thought better of it. +</p> +<p> + "He'll 'ave the same chance as all of you," he ses. "No more and no + less." +</p> +<p> + "I'd feel more easy in my mind, though, if'e wasn't in it," ses Bill + Chambers, staring at Bob. "I never knew 'im to lose anything yet." +</p> +<p> + "You don't know everything, Bill," ses Bob, shaking his 'ead. "You don't + know me; else you wouldn't talk like that. I've never been caught doing + wrong yet, and I 'ope I never shall." +</p> +<p> + "It's all right, Bill," ses George Kettle. "Mr. Smith'll see fair, and + I'd sooner win Bob Pretty's money than anybody's." +</p> +<p> + "I 'ope you will, mate," ses Bob; "that's what I joined for." +</p> +<p> + "Bob's money is as good as anybody else's," ses George Kettle, looking + round at the others. "It don't signify to me where he got it from." +</p> +<p> + "Ah, I don't like to hear you talk like that George," ses Bob Pretty. + "I've thought more than once that you 'ad them ideas." +</p> +<p> + He drank up his beer and went off 'ome, shaking his 'cad, and, arter + three or four of'em 'ad explained to George Kettle wot he meant, George + went off 'ome, too. +</p> +<p> + The week afore Christmas, Smith, the landlord, said as 'ow he 'ad got + enough money, and three days arter we all came up 'ere to see the prize + drawn. It was one o' the biggest hampers Smith could get; and there was + a fine, large turkey in it, a large goose, three pounds o' pork sausages, + a bottle o' whiskey, a bottle o' rum, a bottle o' brandy, a bottle o' + gin, and two bottles o' wine. The hamper was all decorated with holly, + and a little flag was stuck in the top. +</p> +<p> + On'y men as belonged was allowed to feel the turkey and the goose, and + arter a time Smith said as 'ow p'r'aps they'd better leave off, and 'e + put all the things back in the hamper and fastened up the lid. +</p> +<p> + "How are we going to draw the lottery?" ses John Biggs, the blacksmith. +</p> +<p> + "There'll be twenty-three bits o' paper," ses Smith, "and they'll be + numbered from one to twenty-three. Then they'll be twisted up all the + same shape and put in this 'ere paper bag, which I shall 'old as each man + draws. The chap that draws the paper with the figger on it wins." +</p> +<p> + He tore up twenty-three bits o' paper all about the same size, and then + with a black-lead pencil 'e put the numbers on, while everybody leaned + over 'im to see fair play. Then he twisted every bit o' paper up and + held them in his 'and. +</p> +<p> + "Is that satisfactory?" he ses. +</p> +<p> + "Couldn't be fairer," ses Bill Chambers. +</p> +<p> + "Mind," ses Smith, putting them into a tall paper bag that had 'ad sugar + in it and shaking them up, "Number I wins the prize. Who's going to draw + fust?" +</p> +<p> + All of 'em hung back and looked at each other; they all seemed to think + they'd 'ave a better chance when there wasn't so many numbers left in the + bag. +</p> +<p> + "Come on," ses Smith, the landlord. "Some-body must be fust." +</p> +<p> + "Go on, George Kettle," ses Bob Pretty. "You're sure to win. I 'ad a + dream you did." +</p> +<p> + "Go on yourself," ses George. +</p> +<p> + "I never 'ave no luck," ses Bob; "but if Henery Walker will draw fust, + I'll draw second. Somebody must begin." +</p> +<p> + "O' course they must," ses Henery, "and if you're so anxious why don't + you 'ave fust try?" +</p> +<p> + Bob Pretty tried to laugh it off, but they wouldn't 'ave it, and at last + he takes out a pocket-'andkerchief and offers it to Smith, the landlord. +</p> +<p> + "All right, I'll go fust if you'll blindfold me," he ses. +</p> +<p> + "There ain't no need for that, Bob," ses Mr. Smith. "You can't see in + the bag, and even if you could it wouldn't help you." +</p> +<p> + "Never mind; you blindfold me," ses Bob; "it'll set a good example to the + others." +</p> +<p> + Smith did it at last, and when Bob Pretty put his 'and in the bag and + pulled out a paper you might ha' heard a pin drop. +</p> +<p> + "Open it and see what number it is, Mr. Smith," ses Bob Pretty. "Twenty- + three, I expect; I never 'ave no luck." +</p> +<p> + Smith rolled out the paper, and then 'e turned pale and 'is eyes seemed + to stick right out of his 'ead. +</p> +<p> + "He's won it!" he ses, in a choky voice. "It's Number I. Bob Pretty + 'as won the prize." +</p> +<a name="image-40"><!--IMG--></a> +<center> +<img src="040.jpg" height="452" width="571" +alt="'He's Won It!' he Ses, in a Choky Voice. +'it's Number I.' +"> +</center> +<!--IMAGE END--> +<p> + You never 'eard such a noise in this 'ere public-'ouse afore or since; + everybody shouting their 'ardest, and Bill Chambers stamping up and down + the room as if he'd gone right out of his mind. +</p> +<p> + "Silence!" ses Mr. Smith, at last. "Silence! How dare you make that + noise in my 'ouse, giving it a bad name? Bob Pretty 'as won it fair and + square. Nothing could ha' been fairer. You ought to be ashamed o' + yourselves." +</p> +<p> + Bob Pretty wouldn't believe it at fust. He said that Smith was making + game of 'im, and, when Smith held the paper under 'is nose, he kept the + handkerchief on his eyes and wouldn't look at it. +</p> +<p> + "I've seen you afore to-day," he says, nodding his 'ead. "I like a joke + as well as anybody, but it ain't fair to try and make fun of a pore, + 'ard-working man like that." +</p> +<p> + I never see a man so astonished in my life as Bob Pretty was, when 'e + found out it was really true. He seemed fair 'mazed-like, and stood + there scratching his 'ead, as if he didn't know where 'e was. He come + round at last, arter a pint o' beer that Smith 'ad stood 'im, and then he + made a little speech, thanking Smith for the fair way he 'ad acted, and + took up the hamper. +</p> +<p> + "'Strewth, it is heavy," he ses, getting it up on his back. "Well, so + long, mates." +</p> +<p> + "Ain't you—ain't you going to stand us a drink out o' one o' them + bottles?" ses Peter Gubbins, as Bob got to the door. +</p> +<p> + Bob Pretty went out as if he didn't 'ear; then he stopped, sudden-like, + and turned round and put his 'ead in at the door agin, and stood looking + at 'em. +</p> +<p> + "No, mates," he ses, at last, "and I wonder at you for asking, arter what + you've all said about me. I'm a pore man, but I've got my feelings. I + drawed fust becos nobody else would, and all the thanks I get for it is + to be called a thief." +</p> +<p> + He went off down the road, and by and by Bill Chambers, wot 'ad been + sitting staring straight in front of 'im, got up and went to the door, + and stood looking arter 'im like a man in a dream. None of 'em seemed to + be able to believe that the lottery could be all over so soon, and Bob + Pretty going off with it, and when they did make up their minds to it, it + was one o' the most miserable sights you ever see. The idea that they + 'ad been paying a pint a week for Bob Pretty for months nearly sent some + of 'em out of their minds. +</p> +<p> + "It can't be 'elped," ses Mr. Smith. "He 'ad the pluck to draw fust, and + he won; anybody else might ha' done it. He gave you the offer, George + Kettle, and you, too, Henery Walker." +</p> +<p> + Henery Walker was too low-spirited to answer 'im; and arter Smith 'ad + said "Hush!" to George Kettle three times, he up and put 'im outside for + the sake of the 'ouse. +</p> +<p> + When 'e came back it was all quiet and everybody was staring their + 'ardest at little Dicky Weed, the tailor, who was sitting with his head + in his 'ands, thinking, and every now and then taking them away and + looking up at the ceiling, or else leaning forward with a start and + looking as if 'e saw something crawling on the wall. +</p> +<p> + "Wot's the matter with you?" ses Mr. Smith. +</p> +<p> + Dicky Weed didn't answer 'im. He shut his eyes tight and then 'e jumps + up all of a sudden. "I've got it!" he says. "Where's that bag?" +</p> +<p> + "Wot bag?" ses Mr. Smith, staring at 'im. "The bag with the papers in," + ses Dicky. +</p> +<p> + "Where Bob Pretty ought to be," ses Bill Chambers. "On the fire." +</p> +<p> + "Wot?" screams Dicky Weed. "Now you've been and spoilt everything!" +</p> +<p> + "Speak English," ses Bill. +</p> +<p> + "I will!" ses Dicky, trembling all over with temper. "Who asked you to + put it on the fire? Who asked you to put yourself forward? I see it all + now, and it's too late." +</p> +<p> + "Wot's too late?" ses Sam Tones. +</p> +<p> + "When Bob Pretty put his 'and in that bag," ses Dicky Weed, holding up + 'is finger and looking at them, "he'd got a bit o' paper already in it—a + bit o' paper with the figger I on it. That's 'ow he done it. While we + was all watching Mr. Smith, he was getting 'is own bit o' paper ready." +</p> +<p> + He 'ad to say it three times afore they understood 'im, and then they + went down on their knees and burnt their fingers picking up bits o' paper + that 'ad fallen in the fireplace. They found six pieces in all, but not + one with the number they was looking for on it, and then they all got up + and said wot ought to be done to Bob Pretty. +</p> +<p> + "You can't do anything," ses Smith, the landlord. "You can't prove it. + After all, it's only Dicky's idea." +</p> +<p> + Arf-a-dozen of 'em all began speaking at once, but Bill Chambers gave 'em + the wink, and pretended to agree with 'im. +</p> +<p> + "We're going to have that hamper back," he ses, as soon as Mr. Smith 'ad + gone back to the bar, "but it won't do to let 'im know. He don't like to + think that Bob Pretty was one too many for 'im." +</p> +<p> + "Let's all go to Bob Pretty's and take it," ses Peter Gubbins, wot 'ad + been in the Militia. +</p> +<p> + Dicky Weed shook his 'ead. "He'd 'ave the lor on us for robbery," he + ses; "there's nothing he'd like better." +</p> +<p> + They talked it over till closing-time, but nobody seemed to know wot to + do, and they stood outside in the bitter cold for over arf an hour still + trying to make up their minds 'ow to get that hamper back. Fust one went + off 'ome and then another, and at last, when there was on'y three or four + of 'em left, Henery Walker, wot prided himself on 'is artfulness, 'ad an + idea. +</p> +<p> + "One of us must get Bob Pretty up 'ere to-morrow night and stand 'im a + pint, or p'r'aps two pints," he ses. "While he's here two other chaps + must 'ave a row close by his 'ouse and pretend to fight. Mrs. Pretty and + the young 'uns are sure to run out to look at it, and while they are out + another chap can go in quiet-like and get the hamper." +</p> +<p> + It seemed a wunnerful good idea, and Bill Chambers said so; and 'e + flattered Henery Walker up until Henery didn't know where to look, as the + saying is. +</p> +<p> + "And wot's to be done with the hamper when we've got it?" ses Sam Jones. +</p> +<p> + "Have it drawed for agin," ses Henery. "It'll 'ave to be done on the + quiet, o' course." +</p> +<p> + Sam Jones stood thinking for a bit. "Burn the hamper and draw lots for + everything separate," 'e ses, very slow. "If Bob Pretty ses it's 'is + turkey and goose and spirits, tell 'im to prove it. We sha'n't know + nothing about it." +</p> +<p> + Henery Walker said it was a good plan; and arter talking it over they + walked 'ome all very pleased with theirselves. They talked it over next + day with the other chaps; and Henery Walker said arterwards that p'r'aps + it was talked over a bit too much. +</p> +<p> + It took 'em some time to make up their minds about it, but at last it was + settled that Peter Gubbins was to stand Bob Pretty the beer; Ted Brown, + who was well known for his 'ot temper, and Joe Smith was to 'ave the + quarrel; and Henery Walker was to slip in and steal the hamper, and 'ide + the things up at his place. +</p> +<p> + Bob Pretty fell into the trap at once. He was standing at 'is gate in + the dark, next day, smoking a pipe, when Peter Gubbins passed, and Peter, + arter stopping and asking 'im for a light, spoke about 'is luck in + getting the hamper, and told 'im he didn't bear no malice for it. +</p> +<p> + "You 'ad the pluck to draw fust," he ses, "and you won." +</p> +<p> + Bob Pretty said he was a Briton, and arter a little more talk Peter asked + 'im to go and 'ave a pint with 'im to show that there was no ill-feeling. + They came into this 'ere Cauliflower public-'ouse like brothers, and in + less than ten minutes everybody was making as much fuss o' Bob Pretty as + if 'e'd been the best man in Claybury. +</p> +<p> + "Arter all, a man can't 'elp winning a prize," ses Bill Chambers, looking + round. +</p> +<p> + "I couldn't," ses Bob. +</p> +<p> + He sat down and 'elped hisself out o' Sam Jones's baccy-box; and one or + two got up on the quiet and went outside to listen to wot was going on + down the road. Everybody was wondering wot was happening, and when Bob + Pretty got up and said 'e must be going, Bill Chambers caught 'old of him + by the coat and asked 'im to have arf a pint with 'im. +</p> +<p> + Bob had the arf-pint, and arter that another one with Sam Jones, and then + 'e said 'e really must be going, as his wife was expecting 'im. He + pushed Bill Chambers's 'at over his eyes—a thing Bill can't abear—and + arter filling 'is pipe agin from Sam Jones's box he got up and went. +</p> +<p> + "Mind you," ses Bill Chambers, looking round, "if 'e comes back and ses + somebody 'as taken his hamper, nobody knows nothing about it." +</p> +<p> + "I 'ope Henery Walker 'as got it all right," ses Dicky Weed. "When shall + we know?" +</p> +<p> + "He'll come up 'ere and tell us," ses Bill Chambers. "It's time 'e was + here, a'most." +</p> +<p> + Five minutes arterwards the door opened and Henery Walker came staggering + in. He was as white as a sheet, his 'at was knocked on one side of his + 'ead, and there was two or three nasty-looking scratches on 'is cheek. + He came straight to Bill Chambers's mug—wot 'ad just been filled—and + emptied it, and then 'e sat down on a seat gasping for breath. +</p> +<a name="image-41"><!--IMG--></a> +<center> +<img src="041.jpg" height="489" width="599" +alt="'The Door Opened and Henery Walker Came Staggering In.' +"> +</center> +<!--IMAGE END--> +<p> + "Wots the matter, Henery?" ses Bill, staring at 'im with 'is mouth open. +</p> +<p> + Henery Walker groaned and shook his 'ead. "Didn't you get the hamper?" + ses Bill, turning pale. Henery Walker shook his 'ead agin. +</p> +<p> + "Shut up!" he ses, as Bill Chambers started finding fault. "I done the + best I could. Nothing could ha' 'appened better—to start with. + Directly Ted Brown and Joe Smith started, Mrs. Pretty and her sister, and + all the kids excepting the baby, run out, and they'd 'ardly gone afore I + was inside the back door and looking for that hamper, and I'd hardly + started afore I heard them coming back agin. I was at the foot o' the + stairs at the time, and, not knowing wot to do, I went up 'em into Bob's + bedroom." +</p> +<p> + "Well?" ses Bill Chambers, as Henery Walker stopped and looked round. +</p> +<p> + "A'most direckly arterwards I 'eard Mrs. Pretty and her sister coming + upstairs," ses Henery Walker, with a shudder. "I was under the bed at + the time, and afore I could say a word Mrs. Pretty gave a loud screech + and scratched my face something cruel. I thought she'd gone mad." +</p> +<p> + "You've made a nice mess of it!" ses Bill Chambers. +</p> +<p> + "Mess!" ses Henery, firing up. "Wot would you ha' done?" +</p> +<p> + "I should ha' managed diff'rent," ses Bill Chambers. "Did she know who + you was?" +</p> +<p> + "Know who I was?" ses Henery. "O' course she did. It's my belief that + Bob knew all about it and told 'er wot to do." +</p> +<p> + "Well, you've done it now, Henery," ses Bill Chambers. "Still, that's + your affair." +</p> +<p> + "Ho, is it?" ses Henery Walker. "You 'ad as much to do with it as I 'ad, + excepting that you was sitting up 'ere in comfort while I was doing all + the work. It's a wonder to me I got off as well as I did." +</p> +<p> + Bill Chambers sat staring at 'im and scratching his 'ead, and just then + they all 'eard the voice of Bob Pretty, very distinct, outside, asking + for Henery Walker. Then the door opened, and Bob Pretty, carrying his + 'ead very 'igh, walked into the room. +</p> +<p> + "Where's Henery Walker?" he ses, in a loud voice. +</p> +<a name="image-42"><!--IMG--></a> +<center> +<img src="042.jpg" height="523" width="584" +alt="''Where's Henery Walker?' he Ses, in a Loud Voice.' +"> +</center> +<!--IMAGE END--> +<p> + Henery Walker put down the empty mug wot he'd been pretending to drink + out of and tried to smile at 'im. +</p> +<p> + "Halloa, Bob!" he ses. +</p> +<p> + "What was you doing in my 'ouse?" ses Bob Pretty, very severe. +</p> +<p> + "I—I just looked in to see whether you was in, Bob," ses Henery. +</p> +<p> + "That's why you was found under my bed, I s'pose?" ses Bob Pretty. + "I want a straight answer, Henery Walker, and I mean to 'ave it, else I'm + going off to Cudford for Policeman White." +</p> +<p> + "I went there to get that hamper," ses Henery Walker, plucking up spirit. + "You won it unfair last night, and we determined for to get it back. So + now you know." +</p> +<p> + "I call on all of you to witness that," ses Bob, looking round. "Henery + Walker went into my 'ouse to steal my hamper. He ses so, and it wasn't + 'is fault he couldn't find it. I'm a pore man and I can't afford such + things; I sold it this morning, a bargain, for thirty bob." +</p> +<p> + "Well, then there's no call to make a fuss over it, Bob," ses Bill + Chambers. +</p> +<p> + "I sold it for thirty bob," ses Bob Pretty, "and when I went out this + evening I left the money on my bedroom mantelpiece—one pound, two + arf-crowns, two two-shilling pieces, and two sixpences. My wife and + her sister both saw it there. That they'll swear to." +</p> +<p> + "Well, wot about it?" ses Sam Jones, staring at 'im. +</p> +<p> + "Arter my pore wife 'ad begged and prayed Henery Walker on 'er bended + knees to spare 'er life and go," ses Bob Pretty, "she looked at the + mantel-piece and found the money 'ad disappeared." +</p> +<p> + Henery Walker got up all white and shaking and flung 'is arms about, + trying to get 'is breath. +</p> +<p> + "Do you mean to say I stole it?" he ses, at last. +</p> +<p> + "O' course I do," ses Bob Pretty. "Why, you said yourself afore these + witnesses and Mr. Smith that you came to steal the hamper. Wot's the + difference between stealing the hamper and the money I sold it for?" +</p> +<p> + Henery Walker tried for to answer 'im, but he couldn't speak a word. +</p> +<p> + "I left my pore wife with 'er apron over her 'ead sobbing as if her 'art + would break," ses Bob Pretty; "not because o' the loss of the money so + much, but to think of Henery Walker doing such a thing—and 'aving to go + to jail for it." +</p> +<p> + "I never touched your money, and you know it," ses Henery Walker, finding + his breath at last. I don't believe it was there. You and your wife 'ud + swear anything." +</p> +<p> + "As you please, Henery," ses Bob Pretty. "Only I'm going straight off to + Cudford to see Policeman White; he'll be glad of a job, I know. There's + three of us to swear to it, and you was found under my bed." +</p> +<p> + "Let bygones be bygones, Bob," ses Bill Chambers, trying to smile at 'im. +</p> +<p> + "No, mate," ses Bob Pretty. "I'm going to 'ave my rights, but I don't + want to be 'ard on a man I've known all my life; and if, afore I go to my + bed to-night, the thirty shillings is brought to me, I won't say as I + won't look over it." +</p> +<p> + He stood for a moment shaking his 'ead at them, and then, still holding + it very 'igh, he turned round and walked out. +</p> +<p> + "He never left no money on the mantelpiece," ses Sam Jones, at last. +</p> +<p> + "Don't you believe it. You go to jail, Henery." +</p> +<p> + "Anything sooner than be done by Bob Pretty," ses George Kettle. +</p> +<p> + "There's not much doing now, Henery," ses Bill Chambers, in a soft voice. +</p> +<p> + Henery Walker wouldn't listen to 'em, and he jumped up and carried on + like a madman. His idea was for 'em all to club together to pay the + money, and to borrow it from Smith, the landlord, to go on with. They + wouldn't 'ear of it at fust, but arter Smith 'ad pointed out that they + might 'ave to go to jail with Henery, and said things about 'is license, + they gave way. Bob Pretty was just starting off to see Policeman White + when they took the money, and instead o' telling 'im wot they thought of + 'im, as they 'ad intended, Henery Walker 'ad to walk alongside of 'im and + beg and pray of 'im to take the money. He took it at last as a favor to + Henery, and bought the hamper back with it next morning—cheap. + Leastways, he said so. +</p> + + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Prize Money, by W.W. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/old/10790-h/title.jpg b/old/10790-h/title.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..84180c6 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10790-h/title.jpg diff --git a/old/10790.txt b/old/10790.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4210512 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10790.txt @@ -0,0 +1,932 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Prize Money, by W.W. Jacobs + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Prize Money + Sailor's Knots, Part 10. + +Author: W.W. Jacobs + +Release Date: January 22, 2004 [EBook #10790] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PRIZE MONEY *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + +SAILORS' KNOTS + +By W.W. Jacobs + + +1909 + + + +PRIZE MONEY + + +The old man stood by the window, gazing at the frozen fields beyond. The +sign of the Cauliflower was stiff with snow, and the breath of a pair of +waiting horses in a wagon beneath ascended in clouds of steam. + +[Illustration: "The sign of the Cauliflower was stiff with snow."] + +"Amusements" he said slowly, as he came back with a shiver and, resuming +his seat by the tap-room fire, looked at the wayfarer who had been idly +questioning him. "Claybury men don't have much time for amusements. +The last one I can call to mind was Bill Chambers being nailed up in a +pig-sty he was cleaning out, but there was such a fuss made over that +--by Bill--that it sort o' disheartened people." + +He got up again restlessly, and, walking round the table, gazed long and +hard into three or four mugs. + +"Sometimes a little gets left in them," he explained, meeting the +stranger's inquiring glance. The latter started, and, knocking on the +table with the handle of his knife, explained that he had been informed +by a man outside that his companion was the bitterest teetotaller in +Claybury. + +"That's one o' Bob Pretty's larks," said the old man, flushing. "I see +you talking to 'im, and I thought as 'ow he warn't up to no good. +Biggest rascal in Claybury, he is. I've said so afore, and I'll say so +agin." + +He bowed to the donor and buried his old face in the mug. + +"A poacher!" he said, taking breath. "A thief!" he continued, after +another draught. "I wonder whether Smith spilt any of this a-carrying of +it in?" + +He put down the empty mug and made a careful examination of the floor, +until a musical rapping on the table brought the landlord into the room +again. + +"My best respects," he said, gratefully, as he placed the mug on the +settle by his side and slowly filled a long clay pipe. Next time you see +Bob Pretty ask 'im wot happened to the prize hamper. He's done a good +many things has Bob, but it'll be a long time afore Claybury men'll look +over that. + +It was Henery Walker's idea. Henery 'ad been away to see an uncle of 'is +wife's wot had money and nobody to leave it to--leastways, so Henery +thought when he wasted his money going over to see 'im--and he came back +full of the idea, which he 'ad picked up from the old man. + +"We each pay twopence a week till Christmas," he ses, "and we buy a +hamper with a goose or a turkey in it, and bottles o' rum and whiskey and +gin, as far as the money'll go, and then we all draw lots for it, and the +one that wins has it." + +It took a lot of explaining to some of 'em, but Smith, the landlord, +helped Henery, and in less than four days twenty-three men had paid their +tuppences to Henery, who 'ad been made the seckitary, and told him to +hand them over to Smith in case he lost his memory. + +Bob Pretty joined one arternoon on the quiet, and more than one of 'em +talked of 'aving their money back, but, arter Smith 'ad explained as 'ow +he would see fair play, they thought better of it. + +"He'll 'ave the same chance as all of you," he ses. "No more and no +less." + +"I'd feel more easy in my mind, though, if'e wasn't in it," ses Bill +Chambers, staring at Bob. "I never knew 'im to lose anything yet." + +"You don't know everything, Bill," ses Bob, shaking his 'ead. "You don't +know me; else you wouldn't talk like that. I've never been caught doing +wrong yet, and I 'ope I never shall." + +"It's all right, Bill," ses George Kettle. "Mr. Smith'll see fair, and +I'd sooner win Bob Pretty's money than anybody's." + +"I 'ope you will, mate," ses Bob; "that's what I joined for." + +"Bob's money is as good as anybody else's," ses George Kettle, looking +round at the others. "It don't signify to me where he got it from." + +"Ah, I don't like to hear you talk like that George," ses Bob Pretty. +"I've thought more than once that you 'ad them ideas." + +He drank up his beer and went off 'ome, shaking his 'cad, and, arter +three or four of'em 'ad explained to George Kettle wot he meant, George +went off 'ome, too. + +The week afore Christmas, Smith, the landlord, said as 'ow he 'ad got +enough money, and three days arter we all came up 'ere to see the prize +drawn. It was one o' the biggest hampers Smith could get; and there was +a fine, large turkey in it, a large goose, three pounds o' pork sausages, +a bottle o' whiskey, a bottle o' rum, a bottle o' brandy, a bottle o' +gin, and two bottles o' wine. The hamper was all decorated with holly, +and a little flag was stuck in the top. + +On'y men as belonged was allowed to feel the turkey and the goose, and +arter a time Smith said as 'ow p'r'aps they'd better leave off, and 'e +put all the things back in the hamper and fastened up the lid. + +"How are we going to draw the lottery?" ses John Biggs, the blacksmith. + +"There'll be twenty-three bits o' paper," ses Smith, "and they'll be +numbered from one to twenty-three. Then they'll be twisted up all the +same shape and put in this 'ere paper bag, which I shall 'old as each man +draws. The chap that draws the paper with the figger on it wins." + +He tore up twenty-three bits o' paper all about the same size, and then +with a black-lead pencil 'e put the numbers on, while everybody leaned +over 'im to see fair play. Then he twisted every bit o' paper up and +held them in his 'and. + +"Is that satisfactory?" he ses. + +"Couldn't be fairer," ses Bill Chambers. + +"Mind," ses Smith, putting them into a tall paper bag that had 'ad sugar +in it and shaking them up, "Number I wins the prize. Who's going to draw +fust?" + +All of 'em hung back and looked at each other; they all seemed to think +they'd 'ave a better chance when there wasn't so many numbers left in the +bag. + +"Come on," ses Smith, the landlord. "Some-body must be fust." + +"Go on, George Kettle," ses Bob Pretty. "You're sure to win. I 'ad a +dream you did." + +"Go on yourself," ses George. + +"I never 'ave no luck," ses Bob; "but if Henery Walker will draw fust, +I'll draw second. Somebody must begin." + +"O' course they must," ses Henery, "and if you're so anxious why don't +you 'ave fust try?" + +Bob Pretty tried to laugh it off, but they wouldn't 'ave it, and at last +he takes out a pocket-'andkerchief and offers it to Smith, the landlord. + +"All right, I'll go fust if you'll blindfold me," he ses. + +"There ain't no need for that, Bob," ses Mr. Smith. "You can't see in +the bag, and even if you could it wouldn't help you." + +"Never mind; you blindfold me," ses Bob; "it'll set a good example to the +others." + +Smith did it at last, and when Bob Pretty put his 'and in the bag and +pulled out a paper you might ha' heard a pin drop. + +"Open it and see what number it is, Mr. Smith," ses Bob Pretty. "Twenty- +three, I expect; I never 'ave no luck." + +Smith rolled out the paper, and then 'e turned pale and 'is eyes seemed +to stick right out of his 'ead. + +"He's won it!" he ses, in a choky voice. "It's Number I. Bob Pretty +'as won the prize." + +[Illustration: "He's won it!" he ses, in a choky voice. +"It's Number I."] + +You never 'eard such a noise in this 'ere public-'ouse afore or since; +everybody shouting their 'ardest, and Bill Chambers stamping up and down +the room as if he'd gone right out of his mind. + +"Silence!" ses Mr. Smith, at last. "Silence! How dare you make that +noise in my 'ouse, giving it a bad name? Bob Pretty 'as won it fair and +square. Nothing could ha' been fairer. You ought to be ashamed o' +yourselves." + +Bob Pretty wouldn't believe it at fust. He said that Smith was making +game of 'im, and, when Smith held the paper under 'is nose, he kept the +handkerchief on his eyes and wouldn't look at it. + +"I've seen you afore to-day," he says, nodding his 'ead. "I like a joke +as well as anybody, but it ain't fair to try and make fun of a pore, +'ard-working man like that." + +I never see a man so astonished in my life as Bob Pretty was, when 'e +found out it was really true. He seemed fair 'mazed-like, and stood +there scratching his 'ead, as if he didn't know where 'e was. He come +round at last, arter a pint o' beer that Smith 'ad stood 'im, and then he +made a little speech, thanking Smith for the fair way he 'ad acted, and +took up the hamper. + +"'Strewth, it is heavy," he ses, getting it up on his back. "Well, so +long, mates." + +"Ain't you--ain't you going to stand us a drink out o' one o' them +bottles?" ses Peter Gubbins, as Bob got to the door. + +Bob Pretty went out as if he didn't 'ear; then he stopped, sudden-like, +and turned round and put his 'ead in at the door agin, and stood looking +at 'em. + +"No, mates," he ses, at last, "and I wonder at you for asking, arter what +you've all said about me. I'm a pore man, but I've got my feelings. I +drawed fust becos nobody else would, and all the thanks I get for it is +to be called a thief." + +He went off down the road, and by and by Bill Chambers, wot 'ad been +sitting staring straight in front of 'im, got up and went to the door, +and stood looking arter 'im like a man in a dream. None of 'em seemed to +be able to believe that the lottery could be all over so soon, and Bob +Pretty going off with it, and when they did make up their minds to it, it +was one o' the most miserable sights you ever see. The idea that they +'ad been paying a pint a week for Bob Pretty for months nearly sent some +of 'em out of their minds. + +"It can't be 'elped," ses Mr. Smith. "He 'ad the pluck to draw fust, and +he won; anybody else might ha' done it. He gave you the offer, George +Kettle, and you, too, Henery Walker." + +Henery Walker was too low-spirited to answer 'im; and arter Smith 'ad +said "Hush!" to George Kettle three times, he up and put 'im outside for +the sake of the 'ouse. + +When 'e came back it was all quiet and everybody was staring their +'ardest at little Dicky Weed, the tailor, who was sitting with his head +in his 'ands, thinking, and every now and then taking them away and +looking up at the ceiling, or else leaning forward with a start and +looking as if 'e saw something crawling on the wall. + +"Wot's the matter with you?" ses Mr. Smith. + +Dicky Weed didn't answer 'im. He shut his eyes tight and then 'e jumps +up all of a sudden. "I've got it!" he says. "Where's that bag?" + +"Wot bag?" ses Mr. Smith, staring at 'im. "The bag with the papers in," +ses Dicky. + +"Where Bob Pretty ought to be," ses Bill Chambers. "On the fire." + +"Wot?" screams Dicky Weed. "Now you've been and spoilt everything!" + +"Speak English," ses Bill. + +"I will!" ses Dicky, trembling all over with temper. "Who asked you to +put it on the fire? Who asked you to put yourself forward? I see it all +now, and it's too late." + +"Wot's too late?" ses Sam Tones. + +"When Bob Pretty put his 'and in that bag," ses Dicky Weed, holding up +'is finger and looking at them, "he'd got a bit o' paper already in it--a +bit o' paper with the figger I on it. That's 'ow he done it. While we +was all watching Mr. Smith, he was getting 'is own bit o' paper ready." + +He 'ad to say it three times afore they understood 'im, and then they +went down on their knees and burnt their fingers picking up bits o' paper +that 'ad fallen in the fireplace. They found six pieces in all, but not +one with the number they was looking for on it, and then they all got up +and said wot ought to be done to Bob Pretty. + +"You can't do anything," ses Smith, the landlord. "You can't prove it. +After all, it's only Dicky's idea." + +Arf-a-dozen of 'em all began speaking at once, but Bill Chambers gave 'em +the wink, and pretended to agree with 'im. + +"We're going to have that hamper back," he ses, as soon as Mr. Smith 'ad +gone back to the bar, "but it won't do to let 'im know. He don't like to +think that Bob Pretty was one too many for 'im." + +"Let's all go to Bob Pretty's and take it," ses Peter Gubbins, wot 'ad +been in the Militia. + +Dicky Weed shook his 'ead. "He'd 'ave the lor on us for robbery," he +ses; "there's nothing he'd like better." + +They talked it over till closing-time, but nobody seemed to know wot to +do, and they stood outside in the bitter cold for over arf an hour still +trying to make up their minds 'ow to get that hamper back. Fust one went +off 'ome and then another, and at last, when there was on'y three or four +of 'em left, Henery Walker, wot prided himself on 'is artfulness, 'ad an +idea. + +"One of us must get Bob Pretty up 'ere to-morrow night and stand 'im a +pint, or p'r'aps two pints," he ses. "While he's here two other chaps +must 'ave a row close by his 'ouse and pretend to fight. Mrs. Pretty and +the young 'uns are sure to run out to look at it, and while they are out +another chap can go in quiet-like and get the hamper." + +It seemed a wunnerful good idea, and Bill Chambers said so; and 'e +flattered Henery Walker up until Henery didn't know where to look, as the +saying is. + +"And wot's to be done with the hamper when we've got it?" ses Sam Jones. + +"Have it drawed for agin," ses Henery. "It'll 'ave to be done on the +quiet, o' course." + +Sam Jones stood thinking for a bit. "Burn the hamper and draw lots for +everything separate," 'e ses, very slow. "If Bob Pretty ses it's 'is +turkey and goose and spirits, tell 'im to prove it. We sha'n't know +nothing about it." + +Henery Walker said it was a good plan; and arter talking it over they +walked 'ome all very pleased with theirselves. They talked it over next +day with the other chaps; and Henery Walker said arterwards that p'r'aps +it was talked over a bit too much. + +It took 'em some time to make up their minds about it, but at last it was +settled that Peter Gubbins was to stand Bob Pretty the beer; Ted Brown, +who was well known for his 'ot temper, and Joe Smith was to 'ave the +quarrel; and Henery Walker was to slip in and steal the hamper, and 'ide +the things up at his place. + +Bob Pretty fell into the trap at once. He was standing at 'is gate in +the dark, next day, smoking a pipe, when Peter Gubbins passed, and Peter, +arter stopping and asking 'im for a light, spoke about 'is luck in +getting the hamper, and told 'im he didn't bear no malice for it. + +"You 'ad the pluck to draw fust," he ses, "and you won." + +Bob Pretty said he was a Briton, and arter a little more talk Peter asked +'im to go and 'ave a pint with 'im to show that there was no ill-feeling. +They came into this 'ere Cauliflower public-'ouse like brothers, and in +less than ten minutes everybody was making as much fuss o' Bob Pretty as +if 'e'd been the best man in Claybury. + +"Arter all, a man can't 'elp winning a prize," ses Bill Chambers, looking +round. + +"I couldn't," ses Bob. + +He sat down and 'elped hisself out o' Sam Jones's baccy-box; and one or +two got up on the quiet and went outside to listen to wot was going on +down the road. Everybody was wondering wot was happening, and when Bob +Pretty got up and said 'e must be going, Bill Chambers caught 'old of him +by the coat and asked 'im to have arf a pint with 'im. + +Bob had the arf-pint, and arter that another one with Sam Jones, and then +'e said 'e really must be going, as his wife was expecting 'im. He +pushed Bill Chambers's 'at over his eyes--a thing Bill can't abear--and +arter filling 'is pipe agin from Sam Jones's box he got up and went. + +"Mind you," ses Bill Chambers, looking round, "if 'e comes back and ses +somebody 'as taken his hamper, nobody knows nothing about it." + +"I 'ope Henery Walker 'as got it all right," ses Dicky Weed. "When shall +we know?" + +"He'll come up 'ere and tell us," ses Bill Chambers. "It's time 'e was +here, a'most." + +Five minutes arterwards the door opened and Henery Walker came staggering +in. He was as white as a sheet, his 'at was knocked on one side of his +'ead, and there was two or three nasty-looking scratches on 'is cheek. +He came straight to Bill Chambers's mug--wot 'ad just been filled--and +emptied it, and then 'e sat down on a seat gasping for breath. + +[Illustration: "The door opened and Henery Walker came staggering in."] + +"Wots the matter, Henery?" ses Bill, staring at 'im with 'is mouth open. + +Henery Walker groaned and shook his 'ead. "Didn't you get the hamper?" +ses Bill, turning pale. Henery Walker shook his 'ead agin. + +"Shut up!" he ses, as Bill Chambers started finding fault. "I done the +best I could. Nothing could ha' 'appened better--to start with. +Directly Ted Brown and Joe Smith started, Mrs. Pretty and her sister, and +all the kids excepting the baby, run out, and they'd 'ardly gone afore I +was inside the back door and looking for that hamper, and I'd hardly +started afore I heard them coming back agin. I was at the foot o' the +stairs at the time, and, not knowing wot to do, I went up 'em into Bob's +bedroom." + +"Well?" ses Bill Chambers, as Henery Walker stopped and looked round. + +"A'most direckly arterwards I 'eard Mrs. Pretty and her sister coming +upstairs," ses Henery Walker, with a shudder. "I was under the bed at +the time, and afore I could say a word Mrs. Pretty gave a loud screech +and scratched my face something cruel. I thought she'd gone mad." + +"You've made a nice mess of it!" ses Bill Chambers. + +"Mess!" ses Henery, firing up. "Wot would you ha' done?" + +"I should ha' managed diff'rent," ses Bill Chambers. "Did she know who +you was?" + +"Know who I was?" ses Henery. "O' course she did. It's my belief that +Bob knew all about it and told 'er wot to do." + +"Well, you've done it now, Henery," ses Bill Chambers. "Still, that's +your affair." + +"Ho, is it?" ses Henery Walker. "You 'ad as much to do with it as I 'ad, +excepting that you was sitting up 'ere in comfort while I was doing all +the work. It's a wonder to me I got off as well as I did." + +Bill Chambers sat staring at 'im and scratching his 'ead, and just then +they all 'eard the voice of Bob Pretty, very distinct, outside, asking +for Henery Walker. Then the door opened, and Bob Pretty, carrying his +'ead very 'igh, walked into the room. + +"Where's Henery Walker?" he ses, in a loud voice. + +[Illustration: "'Where's Henery Walker?' he ses, in a loud voice."] + +Henery Walker put down the empty mug wot he'd been pretending to drink +out of and tried to smile at 'im. + +"Halloa, Bob!" he ses. + +"What was you doing in my 'ouse?" ses Bob Pretty, very severe. + +"I--I just looked in to see whether you was in, Bob," ses Henery. + +"That's why you was found under my bed, I s'pose?" ses Bob Pretty. +"I want a straight answer, Henery Walker, and I mean to 'ave it, else I'm +going off to Cudford for Policeman White." + +"I went there to get that hamper," ses Henery Walker, plucking up spirit. +"You won it unfair last night, and we determined for to get it back. So +now you know." + +"I call on all of you to witness that," ses Bob, looking round. "Henery +Walker went into my 'ouse to steal my hamper. He ses so, and it wasn't +'is fault he couldn't find it. I'm a pore man and I can't afford such +things; I sold it this morning, a bargain, for thirty bob." + +"Well, then there's no call to make a fuss over it, Bob," ses Bill +Chambers. + +"I sold it for thirty bob," ses Bob Pretty, "and when I went out this +evening I left the money on my bedroom mantelpiece--one pound, two +arf-crowns, two two-shilling pieces, and two sixpences. My wife and +her sister both saw it there. That they'll swear to." + +"Well, wot about it?" ses Sam Jones, staring at 'im. + +"Arter my pore wife 'ad begged and prayed Henery Walker on 'er bended +knees to spare 'er life and go," ses Bob Pretty, "she looked at the +mantel-piece and found the money 'ad disappeared." + +Henery Walker got up all white and shaking and flung 'is arms about, +trying to get 'is breath. + +"Do you mean to say I stole it?" he ses, at last. + +"O' course I do," ses Bob Pretty. "Why, you said yourself afore these +witnesses and Mr. Smith that you came to steal the hamper. Wot's the +difference between stealing the hamper and the money I sold it for?" + +Henery Walker tried for to answer 'im, but he couldn't speak a word. + +"I left my pore wife with 'er apron over her 'ead sobbing as if her 'art +would break," ses Bob Pretty; "not because o' the loss of the money so +much, but to think of Henery Walker doing such a thing--and 'aving to go +to jail for it." + +"I never touched your money, and you know it," ses Henery Walker, finding +his breath at last. I don't believe it was there. You and your wife 'ud +swear anything." + +"As you please, Henery," ses Bob Pretty. "Only I'm going straight off to +Cudford to see Policeman White; he'll be glad of a job, I know. There's +three of us to swear to it, and you was found under my bed." + +"Let bygones be bygones, Bob," ses Bill Chambers, trying to smile at 'im. + +"No, mate," ses Bob Pretty. "I'm going to 'ave my rights, but I don't +want to be 'ard on a man I've known all my life; and if, afore I go to my +bed to-night, the thirty shillings is brought to me, I won't say as I +won't look over it." + +He stood for a moment shaking his 'ead at them, and then, still holding +it very 'igh, he turned round and walked out. + +"He never left no money on the mantelpiece," ses Sam Jones, at last. + +"Don't you believe it. You go to jail, Henery." + +"Anything sooner than be done by Bob Pretty," ses George Kettle. + +"There's not much doing now, Henery," ses Bill Chambers, in a soft voice. + +Henery Walker wouldn't listen to 'em, and he jumped up and carried on +like a madman. His idea was for 'em all to club together to pay the +money, and to borrow it from Smith, the landlord, to go on with. They +wouldn't 'ear of it at fust, but arter Smith 'ad pointed out that they +might 'ave to go to jail with Henery, and said things about 'is license, +they gave way. Bob Pretty was just starting off to see Policeman White +when they took the money, and instead o' telling 'im wot they thought of +'im, as they 'ad intended, Henery Walker 'ad to walk alongside of 'im and +beg and pray of 'im to take the money. He took it at last as a favor to +Henery, and bought the hamper back with it next morning--cheap. +Leastways, he said so. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Prize Money, by W.W. 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