Our Casualty, and Other Stories Part 14

"Money isn't everything in the world," said Sam. "There is such a thing as having a good time, a rattling good time, even if you don't make money out of it and run a chance of being arrested. I daresay you'd like to hear what I've been at."

"If you've committed any kind of crime," I said, "I'd rather you didn't tell me. It might be awkward for me afterwards when you are tried."

"I don't think it's exactly a crime," said Sam, "anyhow, it isn't anything wrong, though, of course, it may be slightly illegal. I'd rather like to have your opinion about that."

"Is it a long story? I'm rather busy to-day."

"Not very long," said Sam, "but I daresay it would sound better after dinner. What would you say now to asking me to dine to-night at your club? We could go up to that library place afterwards. There's never anybody there, and I could tell you the whole thing."

Sam knows the ways of my club nearly as well as I do myself. There is never anyone in the library in the evening. I gave the required invitation.

We dined comfortably, and I got a good cigar for Sam afterwards. When the waiter had left the room he plunged into his story.

"You remember the day I was hauled up before that old a.s.s of a magistrate. He jawed a lot and then fined me 3 4s. 6d., which you paid.

Jolly decent of you. I hadn't a shilling in the world, being absolutely stony broke at the time; so if you hadn't paid--and lots of fellows wouldn't--I should have had to go to gaol."

"Never mind about that," I said. "You've paid me back."

"Still, I'm grateful, especially as I should have missed the spree of my life if I'd been locked up. As it was, thanks to you, I walked out of the court without a stain on my character."

"Well, hardly that. You were found guilty of riotous behaviour, you know."

"Anyhow, I walked out," said Sam, "and that's the main point."

It was, of course, the point which mattered most; and, after all, the stain on Sam's character was not indelible. Lots of young fellows behave riotously and turn out excellent men afterwards. I was an undergraduate myself once, and there is a story about Sam's father, now a dean, which is still told occasionally. When he was an undergraduate a cow was found tied up in the big examination hall.

Sam's father, who was very far from being a dean then, had borrowed the cow from a milkman.

"There were a lot of men waiting outside," said Sam. "They wanted to stand me a lunch in honour of my escape."

"Your fellow-rioters, I suppose?"

"Well, most of them had been in the rag, and, of course, they were sorry for me, being the only one actually caught. However, the lunch never came off. There was a queer old fellow standing on the steps of the court who got me by the arm as I came out. Said he wanted to speak to me on important business, and would I lunch with him. I didn't know what he could possibly have to say to me, for I had never seen him before; but he looked--it's rather hard to describe how he looked. He wasn't exactly what you'd call a gentleman, in the way of clothes, I mean; but he struck me as being a sportsman."

"Horsey?"

"Not the least. More like one's idea of some kind of modern pirate, though not exactly. He talked like an American. I went with him, of course."

"Of course," I said, "anyone with an adventurous spirit would prefer lunching with an unknown American buccaneer to sharing a commonplace feast with a mob of boys. Did you happen to hear his name?"

"He said it was Hazlewood, but----"

"But it may not have been?"

"One of the other fellows called him Ca.s.sidy later on."

"Oh," I said, "there were other fellows?"

"There were afterwards," said Sam, "not at first. He and I lunched alone. He did me well. A bottle of champagne for the two of us and offered me a second bottle. I refused that."

"He came to business after the champagne, I suppose?"

"He more or less talked business the whole time, though at first I didn't know quite what he was at. He ga.s.sed a lot about my having knocked down those two policemen. You remember that I knocked down two, don't you? I would have got a third only that they collared me from behind. Well, Hazlewood, or Ca.s.sidy, or whatever his name was, had seen the sc.r.a.p, and seemed to think no end of a lot of me for the fight I put up."

"The magistrate took a serious view of it, too," I said.

"There wasn't much in it," said Sam modestly. "As I told Hazlewood, any fool can knock down a policeman. They're so darned fat. He asked me if I liked fighting policemen. I said I did."

"Of course."

Sam caught some note of sarcasm in my voice. He felt it necessary to modify his statement.

"Well, not policemen in particular. I haven't a special down on policemen. I like a sc.r.a.p with anyone. Then he said--Harlewood, that is--that he admired the way I drove that car down Grafton Street. He said he liked a man who wasn't afraid to take risks; which was rot.

There wasn't any real risk."

"The police swore that you went at thirty miles an hour," I said. "And that street is simply crowded in the middle of the day."

"I don't believe I was doing anything like thirty miles an hour," said Sam. "I should say twenty-seven at the outside. And there was no risk because everybody cleared out of my way. I had the street practically to myself. It was rather fun seeing all the other cars and carts and things piled up upon the footpaths at either side and the people bolting into the shops like rabbits. But there wasn't any risk. However, old Hazlewood evidently thought there was, and seemed frightfully pleased about it He said he had a car of his own, a sixty h.p. Daimler, and that he'd like to see me drive it. I said I'd take him for a spin any time he liked. I gave him a hint that we might start immediately after lunch and run up to Belfast in time for dinner. With a car like that I could have done it easy. However, he wasn't on."

"Do you think he really had the car?"

"Oh, he had her all right I drove her afterwards. Great Scott, such a drive! The next thing he said was that he believed I was a pretty good man in a boat. I said I knew something about boats, though not much."

Modesty is one of Sam's virtues. He is, I believe, an excellent hand in a small yacht, and does a good deal of racing.

"I asked him what put it into his head that I could sail a boat, and he said O'Meara told him. O'Meara is a man I sail with occasionally, and I thought it nice of him to mention my name to this old boy. I can hoist a spinnaker all right and shift a jib, but I'm no good at navigation.

Always did hate sums and always will. I told him that, and he said he could do the navigation himself. All he wanted was a good amateur crew for a thirty-ton yawl with a motor auxiliary. He had four men, and he asked me to make a fifth. I said I'd go like a shot. Strictly speaking, I ought to have been attending lectures; but what good are lectures?"

"Very little," I said. "In fact, hardly any." "I wasn't going to lose a cruise for the sake of any amount of lectures," said Sam, "particularly with the chance of a tour on that sixty h.p. car thrown in."

Sam paused at this point. It seemed to me that he wanted encouragement.

"You'd have been a fool if you had," I said.

"Up to that time," said Sam thoughtfully, "I hadn't tumbled to what he was at. I give you my word of honour I hadn't the dimmest idea that he was after anything in particular. I thought he was simply a good old sport with lots of money, which he knew how to spend in sensible ways."

"The criminal part of the business was mentioned later on, I suppose?"

"I don't know that there's anything criminal about it," said Sam. "I'm jolly well sure it wasn't wrong, under the circ.u.mstances. But it may have been criminal. That's just what I want you to tell me.

"I'll give you my opinion," I said, "when I hear what it was."

"Gun-running," said Sam.

Gun-running has for some time been a popular sport in Ireland, and I find it very difficult to say whether it is against the law or not. The Government goes in for trying to stop it, which looks as if a gun-runner might be prosecuted when caught. On the other hand, the Government never prosecutes gun-runners, even those who openly boast of their exploits, and that looks as if it were quite a legal amus.e.m.e.nt. I promised Sam that I would consider the point, and I asked him to tell me exactly what he did.

"Well," he said, "when I heard it was gunrunning I simply jumped at the chance. Any fellow would. I said I'd start right away, if he liked As a matter of fact, we didn't start for nearly a fortnight The boat turned out to be the _Pegeen_. You know the _Pegeen_, don't you?"

I did not I am not a sailor, and except that I cannot help seeing paragraphs about _Shamrock IV_. in the daily papers I do not think I know the name of a single yacht.