by W. W. Jacobs
comes 'ome in case they come back."
"Right-o," said the obliging Mr. Flynn. "Just step in and tell mylandlady I'm 'aving a chat with Bill."
He lit his pipe and sat up in bed smoking until a knock at the frontdoor at half-past eleven sent him off to sleep again. Mrs. Scutts, whowas sitting downstairs, opened it and admitted her husband.
"All serene?" he inquired. "What are you looking like that for?What's up?"
He sat quivering with alarm and rage as she told him, and then, mountingthe stairs with a heavy tread, stood gazing in helpless fury at theslumbering form of Mr. James Flynn.
"Get out o' my bed," he said at last, in a choking voice.
"What, Bill!" said Mr. Flynn, opening his eyes.
"Get out o' my bed," repeated the other. "You've made a nice mess of itbetween you. It's a fine thing if a man can't go out for 'arf a pintwithout coming home and finding all the riffraff of the neighbourhood in'is bed."
"'Ow's the pore back, Bill?" inquired Mr. Flynn, with tenderness.
Mr. Scutts gurgled at him. "Outside!" he said as soon as he could gethis breath.
"Bill," said the voice of Mrs. Scutts, outside the door.
"Halloa," growled her husband.
"He mustn't go," said Mrs. Scutts. "Those gentlemen are coming again,and they think he is you."
"WHAT!" roared the infuriated Mr. Scutts.
"Don't you see? It's me what's got the pore back now, Bill," said Mr.Flynn. "You can't pass yourself off as me, Bill; you ain't good-lookingenough."
Mr. Scutts, past speech, raised his clenched fists to the ceiling.
"He'll 'ave to stay in your bed," continued the voice of Mrs. Scutts."He's got a good 'art, and I know he'll do it; won't you, Jim?"
Mr. Flynn pondered. "Tell my landlady in the morning that I've tookyour back room," he said. "What a fortunit thing it is I'm out o' work.What are you walking up and down like that for, Bill? Back coming onagin?"
"Then o' course," pursued the voice of Mrs. Scutts, in meditativeaccents, "there's the club doctor and the other gentleman that knowsBill. They might come at any moment. There's got to be two Bills inbed, so that if one party comes one Bill can nip into the back room, andif the other Bill--party, I mean--comes, the other Bill--you know what Imean!"
Mr. Scutts swore himself faint.
"That's 'ow it is, mate," said Mr. Flynn. "It's no good standing theresaying your little piece of poetry to yourself. Take off your clo'esand get to bed like a little man. Now! now! Naughty! Naughty!"
"P'r'aps I oughtn't to 'ave let 'em up, Bill," said his wife; "but I wasafraid they'd smell a rat if I didn't. Besides, I was took bysurprise."
"You get off to bed," said Mr. Scutts. "Get off to bed while you'resafe."
"And get a good night's rest," added the thoughtful Mr. Flynn. "IfBill's back is took bad in the night I'll look after it."
Mr. Scutts turned a threatening face on him. "For two pins--" he began.
"For two pins I'll go back 'ome and stay there," said Mr. Flynn.
He put one muscular leg out of bed, and then, at the earnest request ofMr. Scutts, put it back again. In a few simple, manly words the latterapologized, by putting all the blame on Mrs. Scutts, and, removing hisclothes, got into bed.
Wrapped in bedclothes, they passed the following day listening forknocks at the door and playing cards. By evening both men were weary,and Mr. Scutts made a few pointed remarks concerning dodging doctors anddeceitful visitors to which Mr. Flynn listened in silent approval.
"They mightn't come for a week," he said, dismally. "It's all right foryou, but where do I come in? Halves?"
Mr. Scutts had a rush of blood to the head.
"You leave it to me, mate," he said, controlling himself by an effort."If I get ten quid, say, you shall have 'arf."
"And suppose you get more?" demanded the other.
"We'll see," said Mr. Scutts, vaguely.
Mr. Flynn returned to the charge next day, but got no satisfaction. Mr.Scutts preferred to talk instead of the free board and lodging hisfriend was getting. On the subject of such pay for such work he wasalmost eloquent.
"I'll bide my time," said Mr. Flynn, darkly. "Treat me fair and I'lltreat you fair."
His imprisonment came to an end on the fourth day. There was a knock atthe door, and the sound of men's voices, followed by the hurriedappearance of Mrs. Scutts.
"It's Jim's lot," she said, in a hurried whisper. "I've just come up toget the room ready."
Mr. Scutts took his friend by the hand, and after warmly urging him notto forget the expert instructions he had received concerning his back,slipped into the back room, and, a prey to forebodings, awaited theresult.
"Well, he looks better," said the doctor, regarding Mr. Flynn.
"Much better," said his companion.
Mrs. Scutts shook her head. "His pore back don't seem no better, sir,"she said in a low voice. "Can't you do something for it?"
"Let me have a look at it," said the doctor. "Undo your shirt."
Mr. Flynn, with slow fingers, fumbled with the button at his neck andlooked hard at Mrs. Scutts.
"She can't bear to see me suffer," he said, in a feeble voice, as sheleft the room.
He bore the examination with the fortitude of an early Christian martyr.In response to inquiries he said he felt as though the mainspring of hisback had gone.
"How long since you walked?" inquired the doctor.
"Not since the accident," said Mr. Flynn, firmly.
"Try now," said the doctor.
Mr. Flynn smiled at him reproachfully.
"You can't walk because you think you can't," said the doctor; "that isall. You'll have to be encouraged the same way that a child is. Ishould like to cure you, and I think I can."
He took a small canvas bag from the other man and opened it. "Fortypounds," he said. "Would you like to count it?"
Mr. Flynn's eyes shone.
"It is all yours," said the doctor, "if you can walk across the room andtake it from that gentleman's hand."
"Honour bright?" asked Mr. Flynn, in tremulous tones, as the other manheld up the bag and gave him an encouraging smile.
"Honour bright," said the doctor.
With a spring that nearly broke the bed, Mr. Flynn quitted it andsnatched the bag, and at the same moment Mrs. Scutts, impelled by amaddened arm, burst into the room.
"Your back!" she moaned. "It'll kill you Get back to bed."
"I'm cured, lovey," said Mr. Flynn, simply.
"His back is as strong as ever," said the doctor, giving it a thump.
Mr. Flynn, who had taken his clothes from a chair and was hastilydressing himself, assented.
"But if you'll wait 'arf a tick I'll walk as far as the corner withyou," he said, quickly. "I'd like to make sure it's all right."
He paused at the foot of the stairs and, glancing up at the palid andmurderous face of Mr. Scutts, which protruded from the back bedroom,smiled at him rapturously. Then, with a lordly air, he tossed him fivepieces of gold.
