Light Freights | Page 6

wot it
is. 'You should ha' known better than that.'
"'Well, it's no good making a fuss about it,' ses Reddish. It was only a
wild man arter all, and he'd ha' died anyway, cos 'e wouldn't eat the raw
meat we gave 'im, and 'is pan o' water was scarcely touched. He'd ha'
starved himself anyhow. I'm sorry, as I said before, but I must be off;
I've got an appointment down at the docks.'
"He moved towards the door; Ginger Dick gave Russet a nudge and
whispered something and Russet passed it on to Sam.
"What about the 'undered quid?' ses pore Beauty's uncle, catching 'old
o' Reddish as 'e passed 'im.
"'Eh?' ses Reddish, surprised--'Oh, that's off.'
"'Ho!' says Sam. 'Ho! is it? We want a 'undered quid off of you; an'
wot's more, we mean to 'ave it.'
"'But the tiger's ate 'im,' says Mrs. Reddish, explaining.
"'I know that,' ses Sam, sharply. 'But 'e was our wild man, and we want
to be paid for 'im. You should ha' been more careful. We'll give you
five minutes; and if the money ain't paid by that time we'll go straight
off to the police-station.'
"'Well, go,' ses Ted Reddish.
"Sam got up, very stern, and looked at Ginger.
"'You'll be ruined if we do,' ses Ginger.
"'All right,' ses Ted Reddish, comfortably.
"I'm not sure they can't 'ang you,' ses Russet.
"'I ain't sure either,' says Reddish; 'and I'd like to know 'ow the law
stands, in case it 'appens agin.'

"'Come on, Sam,' ses Ginger; 'come straight to the police-station.'
"He got up, and moved towards the door. Ted Reddish didn't move a
muscle, but Mrs. Reddish flopped on her knees and caught old Sam
round the legs, and 'eld him so's 'e couldn't move.
"'Spare 'im,' she ses, crying.
"'Lea' go o' my legs, mum,' ses Sam.
"'Come on, Sam,' ses Ginger; 'come to the police.'
"Old Sam made a desperit effort, and Mrs. Reddish called 'im a crool
monster, and let go and 'id 'er face on 'er husband's shoulder as they all
moved out of the parlour, larfing like a mad thing with hysterics.
"They moved off slowly, not knowing wot to do, as, of course, they
knew they daren't go to the police about it. Ginger Dick's temper was
awful; but Peter Russet said they mustn't give up all 'ope--he'd write to
Ted Reddish and tell 'im as a friend wot a danger 'e was in. Old Sam
didn't say anything, the loss of his nevy and twenty-five pounds at the
same time being almost more than 'is 'art could bear, and in a slow,
melancholy fashion they walked back to old Sam's lodgings.
"'Well, what the blazes is up now?' ses Ginger Dick, as they turned the
corner.
"There was three or four 'undered people standing in front of the 'ouse,
and women's 'eads out of all the winders screaming their 'ardest for the
police, and as they got closer they 'eard a incessant knocking. It took
'em nearly five minutes to force their way through the crowd, and then
they nearly went crazy as they saw the wild man with 'alf the
winder-blind missing, but otherwise well and 'arty, standing on the step
and giving rat-a-tat-tats at the door for all 'e was worth.
"They never got to know the rights of it, Beauty getting so excited
every time they asked 'im 'ow he got on that they 'ad to give it up. But
they began to 'ave a sort of idea at last that Ted Reddish 'ad been 'aving

a game with 'em, and that Mrs. Reddish was worse than wot 'e was."

A GARDEN PLOT
The able-bodied men of the village were at work, the children were at
school singing the multiplication-table lullaby, while the wives and
mothers at home nursed the baby with one hand and did the housework
with the other. At the end of the village an old man past work sat at a
rough deal table under the creaking signboard of the Cauliflower,
gratefully drinking from a mug of ale supplied by a chance traveller
who sat opposite him.
The shade of the elms was pleasant and the ale good. The traveller
filled his pipe and, glancing at the dusty hedges and the white road
baking in the sun, called for the mugs to be refilled, and pushed his
pouch towards his companion. After which he paid a compliment to the
appearance of the village.
"It ain't what it was when I was a boy," quavered the old man, filling
his pipe with trembling fingers. "I mind when the grindstone was stuck
just outside the winder o' the forge instead o' being one side as it now is;
and as for the shop winder--it's