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d.i.c.ky Weed coughed and looked round, wondering whether the watch was in the room, and, if so, where it was hidden.
"Now I'm 'ere I may as well tidy up the room for you a bit," he ses, getting up. "I don't like sitting idle."
"Thankee, mate," ses Bob; and 'e lay still and watched d.i.c.ky Weed out of the corner of the eye that wasn't covered with the bandages.
I don't suppose that room 'ad ever been tidied up so thoroughly since the Prettys 'ad lived there, but d.i.c.ky Weed couldn't see anything o' the watch, and wot made 'im more angry than anything else was Mrs. Pretty setting down in a chair with 'er 'ands folded in her lap and pointing out places that he 'adn't done.
"You leave 'im alone," ses Bob. "He knows wot 'e's arter. Wot did you do with those little bits o' watch you found when you was bandaging me up, missis?"
"Don't ask me," ses Mrs. Pretty. "I was in such a state I don't know wot I was doing 'ardly."
"Well, they must be about somewhere," ses Bob. "You 'ave a look for 'em, d.i.c.ky, and if you find 'em, keep 'em. They belong to you."
d.i.c.ky Weed tried to be civil and thank 'im, and then he went off 'ome and talked it over with 'is wife agin. People couldn't make up their minds whether Bob Pretty 'ad found the watch in 'is pocket and was shamming, or whether 'e was really shot, but they was all quite certain that, whichever way it was, d.i.c.ky Weed would never see 'is watch agin.
On the Sat.u.r.day evening this 'ere Cauliflower public-'ouse was crowded, everybody being anxious to see the watch trick done over agin. We had 'eard that it 'ad been done all right at Cudford and Monksham; but Bob Pretty said as 'ow he'd believe it when 'e saw it, and not afore.
He was one o' the fust to turn up that night, because 'e said 'e wanted to know wot the conjurer was going to pay him for all 'is pain and suffering and having things said about 'is character. He came in leaning on a stick, with 'is face still bandaged, and sat right up close to the conjurer's table, and watched him as 'ard as he could as 'e went through 'is tricks.
"And now," ses the conjurer, at last, "I come to my celebrated watch trick. Some of you as wos 'ere last Tuesday when I did it will remember that the man I fired the pistol at pretended that 'e'd been shot and run off 'ome with it in 'is pocket."
"You're a liar!" ses Bob Pretty, standing up. "Very good," ses the conjurer; "you take that bandage off and show us all where you're hurt."
"I shall do nothing o' the kind," ses Bob. I don't take my orders from you."
"Take the bandage off," ses the conjurer, "and if there's any shot marks I'll give you a couple o' sovereigns."
"I'm afraid of the air getting to it," ses Bob Pretty.
"You don't want to be afraid o' that, Bob," ses John Biggs, the blacksmith, coming up behind and putting 'is great arms round 'im. "Take off that rag, somebody; I've got hold of 'im."
Bob Pretty started to struggle at fust, but then, seeing it was no good, kept quite quiet while they took off the bandages.
"There! look at 'im," ses the conjurer, pointing. "Not a mark on 'is face, not one."
"Wet!" ses Bob Pretty. "Do you mean to say there's no marks?"
"I do," ses the conjurer.
"Thank goodness," ses Bob Pretty, clasping his 'ands. "Thank goodness! I was afraid I was disfigured for life. Lend me a bit o' looking-gla.s.s, somebody. I can 'ardly believe it."
"You stole d.i.c.ky Weed's watch," ses John Biggs. "I 'ad my suspicions of you all along. You're a thief, Bob Pretty. That's wot you are."
"Prove it," ses Bob Pretty. "You 'eard wot the conjurer said the other night, that the last time he tried 'e failed, and 'ad to give eighteenpence to the man wot the watch 'ad belonged to."
"That was by way of a joke like," ses the conjurer to John Biggs. "I can always do it. I'm going to do it now. Will somebody 'ave the kindness to lend me a watch?"
He looked all round the room, but n.o.body offered-except other men's watches, wot wouldn't lend 'em.
"Come, come," he ses; "ain't none of you got any trust in me? It'll be as safe as if it was in your pocket. I want to prove to you that this man is a thief."
He asked 'em agin, and at last John Biggs took out 'is silver watch and offered it to 'im on the understanding that 'e was on no account to fire it into Bob Pretty's pocket.
"Not likely," ses the conjurer. "Now, everybody take a good look at this watch, so as to make sure there's no deceiving."
He 'anded it round, and arter everybody 'ad taken a look at it 'e took it up to the table and laid it down.
"Let me 'ave a look at it," ses Bob Pretty, going up to the table. "I'm not going to 'ave my good name took away for nothing if I can 'elp it."
He took it up and looked at it, and arter 'olding it to 'is ear put it down agin.
"Is that the flat-iron it's going to be smashed with?" he ses.
"It is," ses the conjurer, looking at 'im nasty like; "p'r'aps you'd like to examine it."
Bob Pretty took it and looked at it. "Yes, mates," he ses, "it's a ordinary flat-iron. You couldn't 'ave anything better for smashing a watch with."
He 'eld it up in the air and, afore anybody could move, brought it down bang on the face o' the watch. The conjurer sprang at 'im and caught at 'is arm, but it was too late, and in a terrible state o' mind 'e turned round to John Biggs.
"He's smashed your watch," he ses; "he's smashed your watch."
"Well," ses John Biggs, "it 'ad got to be smashed, 'adn't it?"
"Yes, but not by 'im," ses the conjurer, dancing about. "I wash my 'ands of it now."
"Look 'ere," ses John Biggs; "don't you talk to me about washing your 'ands of it. You finish your trick and give me my watch back agin same as it was afore."
"Not now he's been interfering with it," ses the conjurer. "He'd better do the trick now as he's so clever."
"I'd sooner 'ave you do it," ses John Biggs. "Wot did you let 'im interfere for?"
"'Ow was I to know wot 'e was going to do?" ses the conjurer. "You must settle it between you now. I'll 'ave nothing more to do with it."
"All right, John Biggs," ses Bob Pretty; "if 'e won't do it, I will. If it can be done, I don't s'pose it matters who does it. I don't think anybody could smash up a watch better than that."
John Biggs looked at it, and then 'e asked the conjurer once more to do the trick, but 'e wouldn't.
"It can't be done now," he ses; "and I warn you that if that pistol is fired I won't be responsible for what'll 'appen."
"George Kettle shall load the pistol and fire it if 'e won't," ses Bob Pretty. "'Aving been in the Militia, there couldn't be a better man for the job."
George Kettle walked up to the table as red as fire at being praised like that afore people and started loading the pistol. He seemed to be more awkward about it than the conjurer 'ad been the last time, and he 'ad to roll the watch-cases up with the flat-iron afore 'e could get 'em in. But 'e loaded it at last and stood waiting.
"Don't shoot at me, George Kettle," ses Bob. "I've been called a thief once, and I don't want to be agin."
"Put that pistol down, you fool, afore you do mischief," ses the conjurer.
"Who shall I shoot at?" ses George Kettle, raising the pistol.