Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour Part 53

'In course,' said Jack; 'it's what the p.a.w.nbrokers call a watch with its appurts.' (Jack had his watch at his uncle's and knew the terms exactly.)

'It's a repeater, mind,' observed Pacey, taking off the chain.

'The chain's heavy,' said Jack, running it up in his hand; 'and here's a pistol-key and a beautiful pencil-case, with the Pacey crest and motto,'

observed Jack, trying to decipher the latter. 'If it had been without the words, whatever they are,' said he, giving up the attempt, 'it would have been worth more, but the gold's fine, and a new stone can easily be put in.'

He then pulled an old hunting-card out of his pocket, and proceeded to make sundry calculations and estimates in pencil on the back.

'Well, now,' said he, at length, looking up, 'I should say, such a watch as that and appurts,' holding them up, 'couldn't be bought in a shop under eight-and-twenty pund.'

'It cost five-and-thirty,' observed Mr. Pacey.

'Did it!' rejoined Jack, adding, 'then you were done.'

Jack then proceeded to do a little more arithmetic, during which process Mr. Puffington pa.s.sed the wine and gave as a toast--'Success to the handicap.'

'Well,' at length said Jack, having apparently struck a balance, 'hands in pocket, gen'lemen. If this is an award, Mr. Pacey's gold watch and appurts gives Mr. Sponge's chestnut horse seventy golden sovereigns. Show money,'

whispered Jack to Pacey, adding, 'I'll stand the shot.'

'Stop!' roared Guano, 'do either of you sport your hand?'

'Yes, I do,' replied Mr. Pacey coolly.

'And I,' said Mr. Sponge.

'Hold hard, then, gen'lemen!' roared Jack, getting excited, and beginning to foam. 'Hold hard, gen'lemen!' repeated he, just as he was in the habit of roaring at the troublesome customers in Lord Scamperdale's field; 'Mr.

Pacey and Mr. Sponge both sport their hands.'

'I'll lay a guinea Pacey doesn't hold money,' exclaimed Guano.

'Done!' exclaimed Parson Blossomnose.

'I'll bet it does,' observed Charley Slapp.

'I'll take you,' replied Mr. Miller.

Then the hubbub of betting commenced, and raged with fury for a short time; some betting sovereigns, some half-sovereigns, other half-crowns and shillings, as to whether the hands of one or both held money.

Givers and takers being at length accommodated, perfect silence at length reigned, and all eyes turned upon the double fists of the respective champions.

Jack having adjusted his great tortoisesh.e.l.l-rimmed spectacles, and put on a most consequential air, inquired, like a gambling-house keeper, if they were 'All done'--had all 'made their game?' And 'Yes! yes! yes!' resounded from all quarters.

'Then, gen'lemen,' said Jack, addressing Pacey and Sponge, who still kept their closed hands on the table, '_show_!'

At the word, their hands opened, and each held money.

'A deal! a deal! a deal!' resounded through the room, accompanied with clapping of hands, thumping of the table, and dancing of gla.s.ses. 'You owe me a guinea,' exclaimed one. 'I want half a sovereign of you,' roared another. 'Here's my half-crown,' said a third, handing one across the table to the fortunate winner. A general settlement took place, in the midst of which the 'watch and appurts' were handed to Mr. Sponge.

'We'll drink Mr. Pacey's health,' said Mr. Puffington, helping himself to a b.u.mper, and pa.s.sing the lately replenished decanters. 'He's done the thing like a sportsman, and deserves to have luck with his deal. Your good health, Mr. Pacey!' continued he, addressing himself specifically to our friend, 'and luck to your horse.'

'Your good health, Mr. Pacey--your good health, Mr. Pacey--your good health, Mr. Pacey,' then followed in the various intonations that mark the feelings of the speaker towards the toastee, as the bottles pa.s.sed round the table.

The excitement seemed to have given fresh zest to the wine, and those who had been shirking, or filling on heel-taps, now began filling b.u.mpers, while those who always filled b.u.mpers now took back hands.

There is something about horse-dealing that seems to interest every one.

Conversation took a brisk turn, and nothing but the darkness of the night prevented their having the horse out and trying him. Pacey wanted him brought into the dining-room, _a la_ Briggs, but Puff wouldn't stand that.

The transfer seemed to have invested the animal with supernatural charms, and those who in general cared nothing about horses wanted to have a sight of him.

Toasting having commenced, as usual, it was proceeded with. Sponge's health followed that of Mr. Pacey's, Mr. Puffington availing himself of the opportunity afforded by proposing it, of expressing the gratification it afforded himself and all true sportsmen to see so distinguished a character in the country; and he concluded by hoping that the diminution of his stud would not interfere with the length of his visit--a toast that was drunk with great applause.

Mr. Sponge replied by saying, 'That he certainly had not intended parting with his horse, though one more or less was neither here nor there, especially in these railway times, when a man had nothing to do but take a half-guinea's worth of electric wire, and have another horse in less than no time; but Mr. Pacey having taken a fancy to the horse, he had been more accommodating to him than he had to his friend, Mr. Spraggon, if he would allow him to call him so (Jack squinted and bowed a.s.sent), who,' continued Mr. Sponge, 'had in vain attempted that morning to get him to put a price upon him.'

'Very true,' whispered Jack to Pacey, with a feel of the elbow in his ribs, adding, in an undertone, 'the beggar doesn't think I've got him in spite of him, though.'

'The horse,' Mr. Sponge continued, 'was an undeniable good 'un, and he wished Mr. Pacey joy of his bargain.'

This venture having been so successful, others attempted similar means, appointing Mr. Spraggon the arbitrator. Captain Guano challenged Mr. Fogo's phaeton, while Mr. Fogo retaliated upon the captain's chestnut horse; but the captain did not hold money to the award. Blossomnose challenged Mr.

Miller's pig; but the latter could not be induced to claim anything of the worthy rector's for Mr. Spraggon to exercise his appraising talents upon.

After an evening of much noise and confusion, the wine-heated party at last broke up--the staying company retiring to their couches, and the outlying ones finding their ways home as best they could.

CHAPTER XLII

THE MORNING'S REFLECTIONS

When young Pacey awoke in the morning he had a very bad headache, and his temples throbbed as if the veins would burst their bounds. The first thing that recalled the actual position of affairs to his mind was feeling under the pillow for his watch: a fruitless search that ended in recalling something of the overnight's proceedings.

Pacey liked a cheap flash, and when elated with wine might be betrayed into indiscretions that his soberer moments were proof against. Indeed, among youths of his own age he was reckoned rather a sharp hand; and it was the vanity of a.s.sociating with men, and wishing to appear a match for them, that occasionally brought him into trouble. In a general way, he was a very cautious hand.

He now lay tumbling and tossing about in bed, and little by little he laid together the outline of the evening's proceedings, beginning with his challenging Mr. Sponge's chestnut, and ending with the resignation of his watch and chain. He thought he was wrong to do anything of the sort. He didn't want the horse, not he. What should he do with him? he had one more than he wanted as it was. Then, paying for him seventy sovereigns! confound it, it would be very inconvenient--_most_ inconvenient--indeed, he couldn't do it, so there was an end of it. The facilities of carrying out after-dinner transactions frequently vanish with the morning's sun. So it was with Mr. Pacey. Then he began to think how to get out of it. Should he tell Mr. Sponge candidly the state of his finances, and trust to his generosity for letting him off? Was Mr. Sponge a likely man to do it? He thought he was. But, then, would he blab? He thought he would, and that would blow him among those by whom he wished to be thought knowing, a man not to be done. Altogether he was very much perplexed: seventy pounds was a vast of money; and then there was his watch gone, too! a hundred and more altogether. He must have been drunk to do it--_very_ drunk, he should say; and then he began to think whether he had not better treat it as an after-dinner frolic, and pretend to forget all about it. That seemed feasible.

All at once it occurred to Pacey that Mr. Spraggon was the purchaser, and that he was only a middle-man. His headache forsook him for the moment, and he felt a new man. It was clearly the case, and bit by bit he recollected all about it. How Jack had told him to challenge the horse, and he would stand to the bargain; how he had whispered him (Pacey) to name him (Jack) arbitrator; and how he had done so, and Jack had made the award. Then he began to think that the horse must be a good one, as Jack would not set too high a price on him, seeing that he was the purchaser. Then he wondered that he had put enough on to induce Sponge to sell him: that rather puzzled him. He lay a long time tossing, and proing and coning, without being able to arrive at any satisfactory solution of the matter. At last he rang his bell, and finding it was eight o'clock he got up, and proceeded to dress himself; which operation being accomplished, he sought Jack's room, to have a little confidential conversation with him on the subject, and arrange about paying Sponge for the horse, without letting out who was the purchaser.

Jack was snoring, with his great mouth wide open, and his grizzly head enveloped in a white cotton nightcap. The noise of Pacey entering awoke him.

'Well, old boy' growled he, turning over as soon as he saw who it was, 'what are you up to?'

'Oh, nothing particular,' replied Mr. Pacey, in a careless sort of tone.

'Then make yourself scarce, or I'll baptize you in a way you won't like,'

growled Jack, diving under the bedclothes.

'Oh, why I just wanted to have--have half a dozen words with you about our last night's' (ha--hem--haw!) 'handicap, you know--about the horse, you know.'

'About the w-h-a-w-t?' drawled Jack, as if perfectly ignorant of what Pacey was talking about.