The Definite Object Part 78

"Oh?" said Ravenslee, and looking around, caught the Spider watching him wide-eyed, his jaws grimly tense and immobile; but meeting his glance, the Spider lowered his eyes, shifted his smartly-gaitered legs, and chewed viciously.

"So, Guv," piped the Old Un cheerily, "we're out for the criminal's gore--specially me. We're goin' to track the perisher to 'is 'orrible doom--

"'Where'er he be To th' gallers tree Oh, Guv, we mean t' bring him; An' laugh with j'y When nice an' 'igh The blinkin' bobbies swing 'im.'"

"And you think you know who it was?"

"I do, Guv, I do!" nodded the Old Un. "I knows as 'twas a enemy as done it; Joe thinks it was one o' them gang fellers, an' Spider don't say who he thinks done it."

Once again Ravenslee caught the Spider's eye watching him furtively, and once again he noticed that the Spider's jaws were clamped hard, while he was twisting his natty chauffeur's cap in fingers strangely agitated.

"Sir," said Joe, "me an' the Spider searched that wood, an' we found a coat--"

"Shut up, Joe," snarled the Old Un, "you're tellin' it all wrong. Guv, Joe an' the Spider went a-seekin' an' a-searchin' that wood, an' they found a--cloo--"

"Oh?" said Ravenslee.

"A cloo as is a-goin' t' 'ang somebody yet--a cloo, Guv, as ain't t' be ekalled for blood-guilt an' mystery. Joe," said the Old Un, sinking his voice to a hoa.r.s.e whisper, "the hour is come--perjooce the cloo!"

Hereupon Joe produced a pocketbook and took thence a highly ornate coat b.u.t.ton whereto a shred of cloth was attached.

"I found this, sir," said he, "close by where you was a-lyin'." So Ravenslee took the b.u.t.ton upon his palm, and, as he eyed it, the Spider saw his black brows twitch suddenly together, then--he yawned.

"And you found this in the wood, Joe?" he enquired sleepily.

"I did, sir. With that to help 'em, the perlice would have the murdering cove in no time, and more than once I've been going to hand it over to 'em. But then I thought I'd better wait a bit; if you died was time enough, an' if you didn't I'd keep it for you--so, sir, there it is."

"You did quite right, Joe. Yes, you did very right indeed!"

For a long moment Ravenslee sat languidly twisting the b.u.t.ton in thin white fingers, then flicked it far out over the bal.u.s.trade down among the dense evergreens in the garden below. The Old Un gasped, Joe gaped, and the Spider sighed audibly.

"Lorgorramighty! Oh, Guv, Guv--" quavered the old man, "you've throwed away our cloo--our blood-cloo--th' p'lice--you've lost our evidence--"

"Old Un, of course I have! You see, I don't like clews, or blood, or the police. You have all been clever enough, wise enough to keep this confounded business quiet, and so will I--"

"But, oh, Guv, arter somebody tryin' t' kill ye like a dog--ain't there goin' t' be no vengeance, no gallers-tree, no 'lectric chair nor nothin'--"

"Nothing!" answered Ravenslee gently. "Somebody tried to kill me, but somebody didn't kill me; here I am, getting stronger every day, so we'll let it go at that."

"Why then--I'm done!" said the Old Un, rising.

"Guv, you're crool an' stony-'carted! 'Ere 's me, a pore old cove as has been dreamin' an' dreamin' o' gallers-trees an' 'lectric chairs, and 'ere 's you been an' took 'em off me! Guv, I'm disapp'inted wi' ye. Oh, ingrat.i.tood, thou art the Guv!" So saying, the Old Un clapped on his hat and creaked indignantly away.

"Crumbs!" exclaimed Joe, "what a bloodthirsty old cove he is, with his gallers-trees! This means jam, this does."

"Jam?" repeated Ravenslee wonderingly.

"Sir, whenever the Old Un's put out, 'e flies to jam same as some chaps do to drink; makes a fair old beast of hisself, he do. If you'll excuse us, sir, Spider an' me'll just keep a eye on him to see as he don't go upsettin' his old innards again."

Ravenslee nodded, and smiling, watched them hurry after the little old man; but gradually his amus.e.m.e.nt waned, and he became lost in frowning thought. So deeply abstracted was he that he started to find Mrs. Trapes regarding him with her sharp, bright eyes.

"Mr. Geoffrey, here's a cup o' beef tea as I've prepared with my own hand--"

"But where's--"

"She's gone t' bed. Here's a cup o' beef tea as is stiff with nourishment, so get it into your system good an' quick."

"Gone to bed--"

"She says it's a headache, o' course--drink it down while it's hot--but I reckon it's more 'n a headache--yes, sir. A while back I says t'

you--'woo her,' I says, Mr. Geoffrey. I now says--let her alone awhile.

The poor child's all wore out--it's nerves as is the matter with her, I reckon. So, Mr. Ravenslee, be patient, this ain't no wooin' time; it's rest she needs an' change of air--"

"Why, then, Mrs. Trapes, she shall have them!"

CHAPTER x.x.xVII

THE WOES OF MR. BRIMBERLY

Mr. Brimberly, having dined well as was his custom, lay at his ease in a luxurious lounge chair in the shade of the piazza; the day was hot, wherefore on a table at his elbow was a syphon, a bottle, and a long gla.s.s in which ice tinkled alluringly; between his plump fingers was a large cigar and across his plump knees was an open paper over which he yawned and puffed and sipped in turn. Nevertheless Mr. Brimberly was bored and dropping the paper, languidly cherished a languorous whisker, staring dull-eyed across stately terraces and wide, neat lawns to where, beyond winding yew walks and n.o.ble trees, the distant river flowed.

Presently as he sat he was aware of a small girl in a white pinafore approaching along one of these walks--a small being who hopped along by means of a little crutch and sang to herself in a soft, happy voice.

Mr. Brimberly blinked.

Heedless of the eyes that watched her, the child turned into the rose garden, pausing now and then to inhale the scent of some great bloom that filled the air with its sweetness.

Mr. Brimberly sat up, for he permitted few to enter the rose garden.

All at once the child, singing still, reached up and broke off a great scarlet bloom.

Mr. Brimberly arose.

"Little girl!" he called, in voice round and sonorous, "little girl, come you 'ere and come immediate!"

The child started, turned, and after a moment's hesitation hobbled forward, her little face as white as her pinafore. At the foot of the broad steps leading up to the piazza she paused, looking up at him with great, pleading eyes.

Mr. Brimberly beckoned with portentous finger.

"Little girl, come 'ere!" he repeated. "Come up 'ere and come immediate!"

The small crutch tapped laboriously up the steps, and she stood before Mr. Brimberly's imposing figure mute, breathless, and trembling a little.

"Little girl," he demanded, threatening of whisker, "'oo are you and--what?"