My Friend Smith Part 72

"Yaas," said Billy, with a grin.

"You know, Batchelor, you once introduced me to this young gentleman when we were rolling home one night after a spree--fearfully slow parties some of those!--and I've given him a job pretty often since--and he was just telling me about you. Lodging Drury Lane way, I hear?"

"Yes," said I. There was something so genuine in the tone of my old schoolfellow that I could almost forgive him his grand clothes.

"I say, couldn't you come along to my rooms to-night? I'm all by myself. Jolly to talk over old days. Come on, Smith."

"Thanks," said Smith, who, I could see, felt half shy of this old comrade, "but I have to work for an exam., and it's coming off now in a week or two."

"Well, Batchelor, you come," said Flanagan.

I hesitated a moment, and then consented. The fact was, I suspected Flanagan might possibly get his clothes made at Shoddy's. In which case, as to all appearance he must be a good customer, he might, I thought, use his influence with the tailor to prevent the threatened visit to-morrow.

So I went with him, much to his satisfaction, and we had a pleasant evening together. He confided to me his troubles. How he was getting tired of the "usual lot," and of London altogether, and wanted his father to let him be a farmer. How he was always getting into trouble up here in town, living by himself, with far more money than he wanted, and no one "to pull him up," as he called it. How he often recalled Stonebridge House with all its hardships, and wished himself back there instead of in this unsatisfactory world of London.

"If I could only grind like Smith," said he, "it wouldn't be so bad; but what's the use of my grinding? In fact, what's the use of my being up here at all, when I only get into rows, and spend one half of my time going to the dogs and the other in pulling up?"

"Well," said I, "that's better than me, who spend all my time in going to the dogs."

"Oh, but you had Smith to keep you steady," said he. "You couldn't go far wrong with him. I've got no one of that sort. I really wish my father would put me to farming. A fellow couldn't go to the dogs, you know, all among the cows, and pigs, and horses--that is," added he, laughing, "not the sort of dogs I mean."

There was a great deal in Flanagan's troubles with which I could sympathise. He was a fellow with a kind nature at bottom, but too easy- going to withstand the temptations of London.

In return for his confidence I told him most of my troubles. He was greatly interested in the story, and especially reproached himself with his share in aiding and abetting my past extravagances.

When, however, I came to tell him of my financial troubles with Hawkesbury and Shoddy he brightened up suddenly.

"Why, why ever didn't you tell me of that before, Batchelor?" he exclaimed. "And this beggar Shoddy's going to show you up, is he? Ha, ha! we'll disappoint him for once in a way. I know him of old."

"I was wondering if you knew him," said I, suddenly feeling my spirits lightened, "and would mind asking him not to call up at the office."

"Of course I will," said Flanagan, jumping up and taking his hat. "Come along, old man, he won't be shut up yet, I expect. If he is we'll wake him up."

And off we went, my heart full of joy at this unexpected hope.

Shoddy's shop was still open, and its lord was at home. He greeted Flanagan obsequiously, as a good customer.

"Ah, Shoddy, how are you? Just make out my friend's bill here, will you--look sharp!"

Shoddy, in as much surprise as I was, promptly obeyed, adding the interest for the last year and the next.

"Knock off that last six-and-six," demanded my friend.

"But that's for--"

"Knock it off, do you hear?" shouted Flanagan, "and receipt it."

Fancy my astonishment! I had expected to see Shoddy persuaded to abandon his idea of calling at the office; but this was far more than I ever dreamt of.

"Oh, Flanagan," I began, "you really--"

"Shut up," said Flanagan. "May as well owe it to me as Shoddy. There,"

added he, putting down the money and giving me the receipt, "and look here, Mr Shoddy, the next time you try your sharp practice on us I change my tailor."

"And now," said he, putting a note into my hand, "this will help to square accounts with Hawkesbury and some of the others. Mind you pay it back, do you hear?"

Before I could even turn to speak to him he had bolted round the corner and vanished!

CHAPTER THIRTY.

HOW I PAID OFF A SCORE, AND MADE A RATHER AWKWARD DISCOVERY.

I stood staring at the five-pound note which Flanagan had left in my hand in a state of utter bewilderment.

My first impulse was to give chase to my benefactor and compel him to take back the money. My second was to do nothing of the sort, but rejoice with thankfulness over the help thus unexpectedly sent me.

It was little enough I had done to deserve any one's kindness, and it was only too reasonable to expect to have to get myself out of my own troubles. But here, like some good fairy, my old Irish schoolfellow had stepped on to the scene, and sent all those troubles to the right-about with a single turn of the hand.

What rejoicings Jack and I had that night over my good fortune! What careful plans we made for a systematic repayment of the loan! and how jubilantly I looked forward to handing Hawkesbury back his thirty shillings in the morning!

Since I had received that letter of his my wrath had somewhat abated towards him. Much as I disliked and suspected him, still I could not feel quite certain that he might not after all have meant well by what he did, however blundering and objectionable a way he had taken to show it. That, however, did not interfere with my satisfaction now at the prospect of being quits.

It was a positive luxury, as Jack and I entered the office next morning, to be able to meet his amiable, condescending smile in a straightforward way, and not by colouring up and looking confused and chafing inwardly.

I was anxious to get the ceremony over as soon as possible, and therefore walked straight up to his desk, and, placing the thirty shillings before him, said, in a voice which I did not trouble to conceal from the other clerks present.

"That's the thirty shillings you paid Wallop for me the other day, Hawkesbury. I'm much obliged for the loan of it."

If some one had informed him he was to start in five minutes for the North Pole, he could not have looked more amazed or taken aback.

Nothing, evidently, had been farther from his thoughts than that I should be able to repay the loan, and to have it here returned into his hands before I had been his debtor a week fairly astonished him.

His face darkened suddenly into an expression very unusual with him, as he looked first at the money, then at me.

However, I gave him no time to say anything, but hurried off to my desk, feeling--for the first time since my return to Hawk Street--that there was not a man at the office I dared not look in the face.

As I expected, he sidled up to me at the first opportunity.

"Batchelor," said he, "you must really take the money back. I am sure you must want it. I should be quite uncomfortable to feel I was depriving you of it."

And so saying, he actually laid the two coins down on my desk.

"Thank you," I began; "but if--"

"Please don't talk so loud," said he; "I would rather everybody didn't hear."

"Then," said I, "kindly take the money off my desk. It's yours."