Night Watches | Page 5

at the front door
at half-past eleven sent him off to sleep again. Mrs. Scutts, who was
sitting downstairs, opened it and admitted her husband.
"All serene?" he inquired. "What are you looking like that for? What's
up?"
He sat quivering with alarm and rage as she told him, and then,
mounting the stairs with a heavy tread, stood gazing in helpless fury at
the slumbering form of Mr. James Flynn.
"Get out o' my bed," he said at last, in a choking voice.
"What, Bill!" said Mr. Flynn, opening his eyes.
"Get out o' my bed," repeated the other. "You've made a nice mess of it
between you. It's a fine thing if a man can't go out for 'arf a pint without
coming home and finding all the riffraff of the neighbourhood in 'is
bed."

"'Ow's the pore back, Bill?" inquired Mr. Flynn, with tenderness.
Mr. Scutts gurgled at him. "Outside!" he said as soon as he could get
his breath.
"Bill," said the voice of Mrs. Scutts, outside the door.
"Halloa," growled her husband.
"He mustn't go," said Mrs. Scutts. "Those gentlemen are coming again,
and they think he is you."
"WHAT!" roared the infuriated Mr. Scutts.
"Don't you see? It's me what's got the pore back now, Bill," said Mr.
Flynn. "You can't pass yourself off as me, Bill; you ain't good-looking
enough."
Mr. Scutts, past speech, raised his clenched fists to the ceiling.
"He'll 'ave to stay in your bed," continued the voice of Mrs. Scutts.
"He's got a good 'art, and I know he'll do it; won't you, Jim?"
Mr. Flynn pondered. "Tell my landlady in the morning that I've took
your back room," he said. "What a fortunit thing it is I'm out o' work.
What are you walking up and down like that for, Bill? Back coming on
agin?"
"Then o' course," pursued the voice of Mrs. Scutts, in meditative
accents, "there's the club doctor and the other gentleman that knows
Bill. They might come at any moment. There's got to be two Bills in
bed, so that if one party comes one Bill can nip into the back room, and
if the other Bill--party, I mean--comes, the other Bill--you know what I
mean!"
Mr. Scutts swore himself faint.
"That's 'ow it is, mate," said Mr. Flynn. "It's no good standing there
saying your little piece of poetry to yourself. Take off your clo'es and

get to bed like a little man. Now! now! Naughty! Naughty!"
"P'r'aps I oughtn't to 'ave let 'em up, Bill," said his wife; "but I was
afraid they'd smell a rat if I didn't. Besides, I was took by surprise."
"You get off to bed," said Mr. Scutts. "Get off to bed while you're
safe."
"And get a good night's rest," added the thoughtful Mr. Flynn. "If Bill's
back is took bad in the night I'll look after it."
Mr. Scutts turned a threatening face on him. "For two pins--" he began.
"For two pins I'll go back 'ome and stay there," said Mr. Flynn.
He put one muscular leg out of bed, and then, at the earnest request of
Mr. Scutts, put it back again. In a few simple, manly words the latter
apologized, by putting all the blame on Mrs. Scutts, and, removing his
clothes, got into bed.
Wrapped in bedclothes, they passed the following day listening for
knocks at the door and playing cards. By evening both men were weary,
and Mr. Scutts made a few pointed remarks concerning dodging
doctors and deceitful visitors to which Mr. Flynn listened in silent
approval.
"They mightn't come for a week," he said, dismally. "It's all right for
you, but where do I come in? Halves?"
Mr. Scutts had a rush of blood to the head.
"You leave it to me, mate," he said, controlling himself by an effort. "If
I get ten quid, say, you shall have 'arf."
"And suppose you get more?" demanded the other.
"We'll see," said Mr. Scutts, vaguely.
Mr. Flynn returned to the charge next day, but got no satisfaction. Mr.

Scutts preferred to talk instead of the free board and lodging his friend
was getting. On the subject of such pay for such work he was almost
eloquent.
"I'll bide my time," said Mr. Flynn, darkly. "Treat me fair and I'll treat
you fair."
His imprisonment came to an end on the fourth day. There was a knock
at the door, and the sound of men's voices, followed by the hurried
appearance of Mrs. Scutts.
"It's Jim's lot," she said, in a hurried whisper. "I've just come up to get
the room ready."
Mr. Scutts took his friend by the hand, and after warmly urging him not
to forget the expert instructions he had received concerning his back,
slipped into the back room, and,