Odd Craft | Page 6

that day 'anging out of the winder, but it was not
till ha'-past four in the after-noon that Isaac, still wearing Peter's clothes
and carrying a couple of large green plants under 'is arm, turned into
the road, and from the way 'e was smiling they thought it must be all
right.
"Wot 'ave you been such a long time for?" ses Ginger, in a low, fierce
voice, as Isaac stopped underneath the winder and nodded up to 'em.
"I met a old friend," ses Isaac.

"Met a old friend?" ses Ginger, in a passion. "Wot d'ye mean, wasting
time like that while we was sitting up 'ere waiting and starving?"
"I 'adn't seen 'im for years," ses Isaac, "and time slipped away afore I
noticed it."
"I dessay," ses Ginger, in a bitter voice. "Well, is the money all right?"
"I don't know," ses Isaac; "I ain't got the clothes."
"Wot?" ses Ginger, nearly falling out of the winder. "Well, wot 'ave
you done with mine, then? Where are they? Come upstairs."
"I won't come upstairs, Ginger," ses Isaac, "because I'm not quite sure
whether I've done right. But I'm not used to going into pawnshops, and
I walked about trying to make up my mind to go in and couldn't."
"Well, wot did you do then?" ses Ginger, 'ardly able to contain hisself.
"While I was trying to make up my mind," ses old Isaac, "I see a man
with a barrer of lovely plants. 'E wasn't asking money for 'em, only old
clothes."
"Old clothes?" ses Ginger, in a voice as if 'e was being suffocated.
"I thought they'd be a bit o' green for you to look at," ses the old man,
'olding the plants up; "there's no knowing 'ow long you'll be up there.
The big one is yours, Ginger, and the other is for Peter."
"'Ave you gone mad, Isaac?" ses Peter, in a trembling voice, arter
Ginger 'ad tried to speak and couldn't.
Isaac shook 'is 'ead and smiled up at 'em, and then, arter telling Peter to
put Ginger's blanket a little more round 'is shoulders, for fear 'e should
catch cold, 'e said 'e'd ask the landlady to send 'em up some bread and
butter and a cup o' tea.
They 'eard 'im talking to the landlady at the door, and then 'e went off
in a hurry without looking behind 'im, and the landlady walked up and

down on the other side of the road with 'er apron stuffed in 'er mouth,
pretending to be looking at 'er chimney-pots.
Isaac didn't turn up at all that night, and by next morning those two
unfortunate men see 'ow they'd been done. It was quite plain to them
that Isaac 'ad been deceiving them, and Peter was pretty certain that 'e
took the money out of the bed while 'e was fussing about making it.
Old Isaac kept 'em there for three days, sending 'em in their clothes bit
by bit and two shillings a day to live on; but they didn't set eyes on 'im
agin until they all signed on aboard the Planet, and they didn't set eyes
on their money until they was two miles below Gravesend.
[Illustration: "Old Isaac kept 'em there for three days."]

THE CASTAWAY
Mrs. John Boxer stood at the door of the shop with her hands clasped
on her apron. The short day had drawn to a close, and the lamps in the
narrow little thorough-fares of Shinglesea were already lit. For a time
she stood listening to the regular beat of the sea on the beach some
half-mile distant, and then with a slight shiver stepped back into the
shop and closed the door.
[Illustration: "Mrs. John Boxer stood at the door of the shop with her
hands clasped on her apron."]
The little shop with its wide-mouthed bottles of sweets was one of her
earliest memories. Until her marriage she had known no other home,
and when her husband was lost with the North Star some three years
before, she gave up her home in Poplar and returned to assist her
mother in the little shop.
In a restless mood she took up a piece of needle-work, and a minute or
two later put it down again. A glance through the glass of the door
leading into the small parlour revealed Mrs. Gimpson, with a red shawl
round her shoulders, asleep in her easy-chair.

Mrs. Boxer turned at the clang of the shop bell, and then, with a wild
cry, stood gazing at the figure of a man standing in the door-way. He
was short and bearded, with oddly shaped shoulders, and a left leg
which was not a match; but the next moment Mrs. Boxer was in his
arms sobbing and laughing together.