The Definite Object Part 38

"How will--say, ten dollars do?"

"Ten dollars! For blacking your eye, sir?"

"Lumme, Joe!" cried the Old Un, "get back into the ring and black 'em both--"

"Shut up!" said Joe, scowling down into the Old Un's eager face, "you 'eartless old bloodsucker, you!"

"Bloodsucker!" screamed the old man, "w'ot, me? I'll punch you on the ear-'ole, Joe, so's you never 'ear nothin' no more."

"Are you on, Joe?" asked Ravenslee, while the Old Un, swearing softly, unlaced his gloves.

"But, crumbs, sir--axin' your pardon, things'll come a bit expensive, won't they? Y' see--"

"So much the better, ye blighted perisher!" snarled the Old Un, "an'

don't forget as the Guv owes you thirty dollars a'ready--an' 'arves, mind."

"Stow it, you old bag o' wickedness--"

"Bag o'--" the Old Un let fall the boxing gloves and turning on Joe, reached up and shook a feeble old fist under the champion's ma.s.sive chin. "Look at this, me lad--look at this!" he croaked. "Some day I shall ketch you sich a perishin' punch as'll double ye up till kingdom come, me lad, and--Lord, the Guv's countin' out our money--"

"Thirty of 'em, Joe," said Ravenslee, holding out a wad of bills.

"Why, sir," said Joe, backing away, "axing yer pardon, but I'd rayther not--you give me such uncommon good wages, sir, and a bonus every race we run, win or lose--so, sir, I--I'd rayther not--"

"Not?" cried the Old Un, "not take money as is 'arf mine--Oh, kick 'im, somebody--kick 'im! Pound 'im for a pigeon-'earted perishin' pork pig--"

"That'll be no sugar in your tea t'night, old viciousness! But, sir, I'd rayther not--"

"Don't 'eed 'im, Guv--don't 'eed the flappin' flounder. If 'e wont obleege ye in a little matter like thirty dollars, I will--I'll always obleege you--"

"That's enough from you, old tombstones."

"Tombstones!" hissed the Old Un, scowling darkly and squaring his trembling fists, "all right, me lad, 'ere 's where I ketch ye one as'll flatten ye out till the day o' doom--"

Hereupon Joe caught him above the elbows, and lifting him in mighty hands that yet were gentle, seated the snarling old fellow in the armchair.

"Old Un," said he, shaking his finger, "if ye give me any more of it--off t' bed I take ye without any tea at all!" The Old Un, cowering beneath that portentous finger, swore plaintively and promptly subsided.

"And now," said Ravenslee, thrusting the money into Joe's reluctant hand, "when I make a bargain, I generally keep it. I wish all my money had been spent to such good purpose."

"What about me?" whined the old man humbly, "don't I get none, Joe-lad?"

"Not a cent, you old rasper!"

"Blimy, Guv, you won't forget a old cove as 'ud shed 'is best blood for ye?"

"The Guv'nor don't want yer blood, old skin-and-bones. And now, come on, sir--"

"Stay a minute, Joe, the Old Un generally keeps time for us when we spar rounds."

"That I do, Guv," cried the old man, "an' give ye advice worth its weight in solid gold; you owe me a lot, s' 'elp me."

"About how much?"

"Well, Guv, I ain't got me ledger-book 'andy, but roughly speakin' I should say about five or six 'undred dollars. But seein' you 's you an'

I'm me--a old man true-'earted as never crossed n.o.body--let's say--fifteen dollars."

"Why, you old--thievin'--vagabone!" gasped Joe, as Ravenslee gravely handed over the money.

"Vagabone yourself!" said the Old Un, counting the bills over in trembling fingers. "The Guv wants a bath--take 'im away--'ook it, d'j 'ear?"

"Has Patterson got everything ready, Joe?" enquired Ravenslee, taking up his clothes.

"No, sir," mumbled Joe, "but I'll have ye bath ready in a jiffy, sir."

"But where's Patterson?"

"Well, 'e--'e 's out, sir."

"And the footmen?"

"They're out, sir."

"Oh! And the housekeeper--er--what's her name--Mrs. Smythe?"

"Gone to call on her relations, sir."

"Ah! And the maids?"

"Mrs. Smythe give 'em leave of habsence, sir. Y' see, sir," said Joe apologetically, "you're 'ere so seldom, sir."

"My servants are not exactly--er--worked to death, Joe?"

"No, sir."

"Manage to look after themselves quite well?"

"Yes, sir."

"It seems I need some one to look after them--and me."

"Yes, sir."

"A woman, Joe--one I can trust and honour and--what d' ye think?"

"I think--er--yes, sir."

"Well--what do you suggest?"