Once Aboard the Lugger Part 80

Wyvern!" she cried, "I _am_ sorry! What has happened? How do you know? Do tell us everything of when you went to Herons' Holt last night."

Bill took a chair. He said gloomily: "There's not much to tell. I felt I couldn't wait at that infernal inn any longer, so I left the detective in charge, went to the inn where we'd found George, didn't see him, and came back to Herons' Holt. I saw old Marrapit for about two minutes in the hall. He foamed at me all about George, foamed out that I was one of George's friends, and foamed me out of the door before I could get in a word. Said I never was to come near the place again. I asked him about Margaret, and he had a kind of fit--a kind of fit."

George said softly: "I know what you mean, old man."

"A kind of fit," Bill gloomily repeated. Then he struck one clenched fist into the palm of the other hand. "And hang it!" he cried, "I've won her! According to the bargain old Marrapit made with me, I've won her. If it had not been for me you wouldn't have taken the cat to that hut in the wood, and if you hadn't taken it there Marrapit wouldn't have it _now_. It's through me he got it, isn't it?"

"Bill," George told him, "it is. You rotted my show all right. No mistake about that."

It was a fearful situation as between these two young men. In silence, in gloom, they gazed each upon the ground.

Bill took a glance at George's face; turned hurriedly from the despair there stamped; set his eyes upon my pretty Mary. He gave a sigh.

"But, George, old man, you've come out of it the better," he said.

"You've lost the money you wanted, but you've got your--you've got Miss Humfray. I've lost my--I've lost Margaret."

In great melancholy George rose; crossed to his Mary; sat upon the arm of her chair; caressed her pretty shoulders.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Bill. Bill, we're in a most fearful hole. We haven't got a sou, and I've got no work. You're doing well. You're making money. You're bound to get Margaret in time. As for us--"

Bill was deeply stirred. "I say, I am sorry," he told them. He sat up very straight. "Look here, don't get down on your luck. Come out and have lunch with me and tell me just how you're fixed. If a small loan will do you any good I'm certain my guv'nor will stand it. He likes you awfully, George. Come on. I shan't see you again otherwise for some time. I'm off on another Special Commissioner job for the _Daily_, you know."

George gave a slight shudder. "Oh? Thank goodness, I'm not the object of it this time. What is it?"

"What is it? Why, you've seen the _Daily_ this morning, haven't you?"

"I'll never open the infernal thing again."

Bill did not heed the aspersion. "It's really rather funny, you know,"

he went on. "Look here." He tugged at his pocket; produced a _Daily_.

A pencil dislodged by the paper fell to the ground; rolled beneath the table.

Bill stooped after it. The cat that lay there, disturbed, walked forth--arching its proud orange back.

II.

With eyes that goggled tremendously Bill stared at it; with a finger that shook he pointed at it; turned his head to George. "George," he asked, "whose cat is that?"

George looked at Mary; gave a bitter little laugh. "I suppose it's ours," he replied. "Eh, Mary?"

A sad little smile his Mary gave, "I suppose it is," she agreed.

From one to the other Bill looked, suspicion in those goggling eyes.

"You _suppose_ it is?" he emphasised. Again he swiftly looked from George to Mary; again stared at the splendid orange form. "George," he said sharply--"George, what is that cat's name?"

George regarded him with a whimsical smile. "Bill, you old duffer, you don't think it's the Rose, do you?"

Yet more sharply than before Bill spoke. "George, is that cat's name Abis.h.a.g?"

"_Abis.h.a.g?_ What an awful--"

Bill turned from him with an impatient gesture. He called to the cat, "Abis.h.a.g! Abis.h.a.g!"

With upreared tail the fine creature trotted to him.

"Good Lord!" George broke out. "Is that _your_ cat, Bill?"

Bill turned upon him. "_My_ cat! You know thundering well it's not my cat."

"But it knows you, Mr. Wyvern," Mary told him wonderingly.

There was sorrow, a look of pity in this young man's eyes as reproachfully he regarded my Mary.

He swung round upon George. "George, you've made a fool of me once--"

"I don't know what on earth's the matter with you," George told him.

With knitted brows Bill for a moment searched his face. "I ask you point-blank," he said slowly. "Did you steal this cat, George?"

George struck the stern young man upon the back. "Is _that_ what you're driving at, you old a.s.s? Stole it! D'you suppose I'll ever _touch_ a cat again? That's the infernal cat Mrs. Major left in that hut when she hooked off the Rose. Marrapit told you, didn't he?"

Into a chair Bill collapsed--legs thrust straight before him, head against the cushioned back. He gasped. "George, this is a licker, a fair licker." Enormously this staggered man swelled as he inhaled a tremendous breath; upon a vast sigh he let it go. "That cat--" he said. He got to his legs and paced the room; astonished, Mary and George regarded him. "That cat--I'll bet my life that's the cat!"

III.

My Mary was trembling before this fearful agitation. For support she took her George's hand. "Oh, Mr. Wyvern!" she cried, "whatever is it?

Have we got into another awful trouble through those dreadful, _dreadful_ cats?"

"Look at the _Daily_," Bill said. "Look at the _Daily_. George, give me a cigarette. I must smoke. This is an absolute licker."

My frightened Mary jumped for the paper where it had fallen; spread it upon the table; opened it. "Oh, George!" she cried. "Oh, George!"; pressed a pretty finger upon these flaming words:

ANOTHER CAT OUTRAGE.

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