Edward Barry | Page 4

you, Mr. Watson," replied the young man, "but I'll be
all right now. I've got a ship, the skipper has given me an advance out
of his own pocket, and as soon as I get my watch and other things out
of old Levi's I'm going up the town to buy some clothes."
"You ain't going into a pawnshop yourself, are you?" inquired Todd.
"Don't you do it, young fellow. Why, the skipper as give you the
advance might see you going in, and chuck it up in your teeth again

some day."
"Aye, that's true," said another; "men like us can't run the risk of being
seen even looking in at a pawnshop window."
"Well, as I can't get any one to go for me, I must go myself," said Barry,
who was quick to perceive that his companions thought nothing of a
man having to avail himself of a pawnbroker's shop, but did think it
exceedingly improper to be seen entering or leaving one.
"Leave it till Monday morning," said another. "I'll get one of the hands
aboard my hooker to go for you if you give me the tickets."
Barry shook his head. "I've promised to be aboard to-night, and we sail
early on Monday morning."
"Humph! That's a corker," said the man with the rumbling voice;
"there's no getting out of that;" then rising from his seat he walked to
the door, opened it, and then turning his head, said, "Just come here a
minute, mister, and I'll tell you how we might manage it."
Barry followed him out into the passage and then upstairs into his
bedroom.
"Look here," said Watson as he struck a match, lit a candle and then his
pipe, and speaking amidst a cloud of smoke, "you don't know much of
me, and I don't know much of you, but I do know that you're one of the
right sort. I could see you were getting pretty well pushed, although
you have always kept a stiff upper lip. Now, look there. There's my
chest. Help yourself to some dry togs--they'll fit you right enough.
Then go out, and do all you want to do, and if you have time come back
here and we'll have a glass of grog together. If you haven't--why, it
don't matter. I've been on my beam ends often enough, I can tell you."
Barry put out his hand. "Thank you, Mr. Watson. If you'll lend me a
suit of clothes, I'll feel grateful. I've only those I stand up in, and I'm
feeling jolly cold. But I've a good suit or two in pawn with my other
gear, and I'll be back here with them in half an hour."

Without another word Watson opened his sea chest and threw a
collection of clothing upon the bed.
"There's shirts, collars, ties, and everything else you want in the chest,
and boots under the bed. Blow out the light when you've finished, lock
the door, and leave the key in the bar, and if you're on for a yarn when
you come back, you'll find me downstairs with old Billy Todd. Welsh
rarebit at ten o'clock."
Then refusing to listen to Barry's thanks, he went out to rejoin his
companions.
Immediately he had finished dressing himself in his new friend's
clothes, Barry rolled his own up in a bundle, locked the room door, and
hurried down into the bar, where he left the key as directed, and had
some coffee and a sandwich or two instead of supper, for he was
anxious to return as quickly as possible, and then make his way down
to the Mahina.
The pawnbroker's shop was less than ten minutes' walk from the hotel,
and stepping briskly along he soon reached its doors, entered, and went
directly to the open counter instead of availing himself of one of the
dirty, ill-smelling little confessional boxes wherein hapless creatures
confess their poverty to Poverty's Father Confessor, mine uncle.
Producing his tickets, a young Hebrew gentleman at once gave him his
immediate attention, and one by one the articles were brought and
delivered to him, after repayment of the money loaned and interest,
which transaction took four pounds out of the ten he possessed. His
watch and chain were the last to be produced, and as he was winding up
the former, before placing it in his vest pocket, he heard a voice
proceeding from the nearest confessional box, speaking to one of the
assistants, which caused him to start and then listen intently. It was a
voice he remembered well--clear, refined, but tremulous with age.
"I can assure you," it said, "that it was bought in Calcutta fifty years
ago, and cost two hundred rupees."

"Vell, my good sir, it doesn't madder nodings to me vat it cost.