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+*** 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 ***