Dead Mens Money | Page 6

all!" I hastened to say. "If you knew it all,
you'd see it's a very ordinary business that this man can't do himself,
being kept to his bed. But all the same, there's naught like taking
precautions beforehand, and so I'll tell you what we'll do. I should be
back in town soon after twelve, and I'll give a tap at your window as I
pass it, and then you'll know all's right."
That would be an easy enough thing to manage, for Maisie's room,
where she slept with a younger sister, was on the ground floor of her
father's house in a wing that butted on to the street, and I could knock at
the pane as I passed by. Yet still she seemed uneasy, and I hastened to
say what--not even then knowing her quite as well as I did later--I
thought would comfort her in any fears she had. "It's a very easy job,
Maisie," I said; "and the ten pounds'll go a long way in buying that
furniture we're always talking about."
She started worse than before when I said that and gripped the hand
that I had round her waist.
"Hughie!" she exclaimed. "He'll not be giving you ten pounds for a bit
of a ride like that! Oh, now I'm sure there's danger in it! What would a
man be paying ten pounds for to anybody just to take a message? Don't
go, Hughie! What do you know of yon man except that he's a stranger
that never speaks to a soul in the place, and wanders about like he was
spying things? And I would liefer go without chair or table, pot or pan,
than that you should be running risks in a lonesome place like that, and

at that time, with nobody near if you should be needing help. Don't go!"
"You're misunderstanding," said I. "It's a plain and easy thing--I've
nothing to do but ride there and back. And as for the ten pounds, it's
just this way: yon Mr. Gilverthwaite has more money than he knows
what to do with. He carries sovereigns in his pockets like they were
sixpenny pieces! Ten pounds is no more to him that ten pennies to us.
And we've had the man in our house seven weeks now, and there's
nobody could say an ill word of him."
"It's not so much him," she answered. "It's what you may meet--there!
For you've got to meet--somebody. You're going, then?"
"I've given my word, Maisie," I said. "And you'll see there'll be no
harm, and I'll give you a tap at the window as I pass your house coming
back. And we'll do grand things with that ten pounds, too."
"I'll never close my eyes till I hear you, then," she replied. "And I'll not
be satisfied with any tap, neither. If you give one, I'll draw the blind an
inch, and make sure it's yourself, Hughie."
We settled it at that, with a kiss that was meant on my part to be one of
reassurance, and presently we parted, and I went off to get my bicycle
in readiness for the ride.
CHAPTER III
THE RED STAIN
It was just half-past nine by the town clocks when I rode out across the
old Border Bridge and turned up the first climb of the road that runs
alongside the railway in the direction of Tillmouth Park, which was, of
course, my first objective. A hot, close night it was--there had been
thunder hanging about all day, and folk had expected it to break at any
minute, but up to this it had not come, and the air was thick and
oppressive. I was running with sweat before I had ridden two miles
along the road, and my head ached with the heaviness of the air, that
seemed to press on me till I was like to be stifled. Under ordinary

circumstances nothing would have taken me out on such a night. But
the circumstances were not ordinary, for it was the first time I had ever
had the chance of earning ten pounds by doing what appeared to be a
very simple errand; and though I was well enough inclined to be
neighbourly to Mr. Gilverthwaite, it was certainly his money that was
my chief inducement in going on his business at a time when all decent
folk should be in their beds. And for this first part of my journey my
thoughts ran on that money, and on what Maisie and I would do with it
when it was safely in my pocket. We had already bought the
beginnings of our furnishing, and had them stored in an unused
warehouse at the back of her father's premises; with Mr. Gilverthwaite's
bank-note, lying there snugly in waiting for