The Tale of Timber Town Part 19

"Anything to oblige you, gentlemen," said Carnac. "Let it be ten pounds, and you can withdraw as soon as you win your money back. It's a free country: you can have one throw, two, or any number you please. But don't say you were coerced, if you lose."

Tresco answered by putting his ten pounds in the pool.

The situation seemed to amuse Young William. He stood behind the goldsmith's chair, holding his sides to suppress his laughter, and making pantomimic signs to Garstang, who looked on with stolid composure and an evil smile.

The players made their throws, and Carnac won the pool.

"Never mind," cried the Prospector, with strong expletives. "There's my stake--let me have another shy. Game to the finish." He rose to his feet, threw his money down on the table with a bang, reeled as he stood, and sat down heavily.

And so the game went on. No luck came to Tresco, and but a few pounds remained in front of him. "One more Kitty, and that finishes me," he said, as he placed his stake in the pool.

As usual, he lost.

"Here's seven pounds left," he cried. "Even money all round, and sudden death on a single throw."

The final pool was made up. The digger threw first--a paltry seven.

Dolphin followed with five. It was Tresco's turn to play next, and he threw eleven.

Carnac dallied long with the dice. He was about to throw, when the Prospector rose from his seat and, swaying, caught at the suave gambler's arm for support. With a rattle the dice-box fell. Carnac uttered an oath. Before the players three dice lay upon the table.

Tresco swore deep and loud, and in a moment had fastened both his hands upon the cheat's throat. Carnac struggled, the table with all its money fell with a crash, but the sinister Garstang made a swift movement, and before Tresco's face there glittered the barrel of a revolver.

"Drop him," said Garstang hoa.r.s.ely. "Loose hold, or you're dead."

The goldsmith dropped his man, but Garstang still covered him with his weapon.

"Stow the loot, William," said Dolphin, suiting the action to the word; and while the two trusty comrades filled their pockets with gold and bank-notes, Carnac slunk from the room. With a heavy lurch the digger tumbled up against the wall, and then fell heavily to the floor.

"Don't give so much as a squeak," said Garstang to the goldsmith, "or you'll lie beside your mate, only much sounder."

Dolphin and Young William, laden with booty, now retired with all speed, and Garstang, still covering his man, walked slowly backward to the door. He made a sudden step and was gone; the door shut with a bang; the key turned in the lock, and Benjamin Tresco was left alone with the insensible form of Bill the Prospector.

"Hocussed, by Heaven!" cried the goldsmith. "Fleeced and drugged in one evening."

CHAPTER XI.

The Temptation of the Devil.

The atmosphere of the little room at the back of Tresco's shop was redolent of frying chops. The goldsmith was cooking his breakfast.

As he sneezed and coughed, and watered at the eyes, he muttered, "This is the time of all others that I feel the lack of Betsy Jane or a loving wife."

There was the sound of a foot on the narrow stairs, and Jake Ruggles appeared, his hair still damp from his morning ablutions and his face as clean as his muddy complexion would permit.

"'Mornin', boss."

"Good morning, my lad."

"Chops?"

"Chops and repentance," said the goldsmith.

"Whatyer givin' us?" asked Jake, indignant. "Who's takin' any repentance this morning?--not me, you bet."

"There's a game called Euchre, Jake--never play it. There is likewise a game called Kitty, which is worse. You can lose more money in one night at one of these games than you can earn in six months."

"Speak f'yerself," said the irreverent Jake. "I own I wasn't at a temp'rance meetin' las' night, but I was in bed long before you come home."

"I was attending a sick friend," said Benjamin, dishing up the chops. "I confess I was kept out a little late."

"Must 'a' bin the horrors--I hope 'e didn't die."

"You are mistaken, my brilliant youth. But I own it was something not unlike it. My friend was drugged while having a friendly game of chance with men he deemed to be respectable. One of them dosed his liquor, while another rooked him with loaded dice, and what with one thing and another he was fleeced of all his cash, and was hocussed into the bargain."

"An' what was _you_ doin' there?"

"I? I was being rooked too, but either the drug was the wrong sort to hocuss _me_, or I overturned my gla.s.s by accident, but I escaped with the loss of a few pounds."

"Hocuss yer grandmother!" Jake's ferret-like eyes looked unutterable scorn. "Your bloomin' hocuss was brandy."

"The mind of Youth is perverse and foolish," said the goldsmith, as he poured out the tea. "When the voice of Experience and the voice of Wisdom say, 'Eschew cards, abjure dice, avoid men with lumps on their necks and revolvers in their pockets,' sapient Youth says, 'The old man's goin' dotty.' But we shall see. Youth's innings will come, and I bet a fiver--no, no, what am I thinking of?--I stake my honour that Youth's middle stump gets bowled first ball."

Three years before Tresco had arrived in Timber Town, and had started business on borrowed money. Everything had favoured him but his own improvidence, and on the eve of what he believed to be a financial boom, he found himself in what he described as "a cleft stick." The quarter's rent was a fortnight overdue, the interest on his mortgaged stock must be paid in a few days; and in addition to this he was now saddled with a debt of honour which, if paid, would leave him in a bankrupt condition.

Rising from his half-finished meal, he put on his ap.r.o.n, went into the workshop, and sat down at his bench.

The money which he had held for satisfying the immediate calls of his creditors was squandered, and in the course of the morning he might expect a visit from his landlord, demanding payment.

He might put the digger from his mind--a man drugged overnight would not trouble him next day. The thought gave him relief, and he took up his tool and began to engrave a monogram on a piece of silver. The outlines of the letters were marked in pencil, and the point of his graver deftly ploughed little furrows. .h.i.ther and thither, till the beauty of the design displayed itself.

Jake had opened the shop and taken down the shutters. The goldsmith had lighted his pipe, and the workshop had a.s.sumed its usual air of industry, when a rapping was heard on the gla.s.s case which stood on the counter of the shop.

Benjamin, glad to welcome so early a customer, rose with a beaming face, and bustled out of the workshop.

Bill the Prospector stood before him.

"_Good_ morning!" Tresco's greeting was effusively delivered. "I hope I see you well."

"A bit thick in the head, mate," said the digger, "but not much the worse, 'cept I ain't got so much as a bean to get a breakfast with."

"Come in, come in," exclaimed Benjamin, as he ushered the digger into the back room, where such chops as had escaped the voracious appet.i.te of Jake Ruggles remained upon the table.

"Sit down, my friend; eat, and be well filled," said the goldsmith.

"I'll brew another pot of tea, and soon our Richard will be himself again."