by W. W. Jacobs
through the air the wheels go round and round collecting allthe other parts, and the watch as good as new and ticking away its'ardest will be found in the coat-pocket o' the gentleman I shoot at."
He pointed the pistol fust at one and then at another, as if 'e couldn'tmake up 'is mind, and none of 'em seemed to 'ave much liking for it.Peter Gubbins told 'im not to shoot at 'im because he 'ad a 'ole in hispocket, and Bill Chambers, when it pointed at 'im, up and told 'im to letsomebody else 'ave a turn. The only one that didn't flinch was BobPretty, the biggest poacher and the greatest rascal in Claybury. He'dbeen making fun o' the tricks all along, saying out loud that he'd seen'em all afore--and done better.
"Go on," he ses; "I ain't afraid of you; you can't shoot straight."
The conjurer pointed the pistol at 'im. Then 'e pulled the trigger andthe pistol went off bang, and the same moment o' time Bob Pretty jumpedup with a 'orrible scream, and holding his 'ands over 'is eyes dancedabout as though he'd gone mad.
Everybody started up at once and got round 'im, and asked 'im wot was thematter; but Bob didn't answer 'em. He kept on making a dreadful noise,and at last 'e broke out of the room and, holding 'is 'andkercher to 'isface, ran off 'ome as 'ard as he could run.
"You've done it now, mate," ses Bill Chambers to the conjurer. "Ithought you wouldn't be satisfied till you'd done some 'arm. You've beenand blinded pore Bob Pretty."
"Nonsense," ses the conjurer. "He's frightened, that's all."
"Frightened!" ses Peter Gubbins. "Why, you fired Dicky Weed's watchstraight into 'is face."
"Rubbish," ses the conjurer; "it dropped into 'is pocket, and he'll findit there when 'e comes to 'is senses."
"Do you mean to tell me that Bob Pretty 'as gone off with my watch in 'ispocket?" screams Dicky Weed.
"I do," ses the other.
"You'd better get 'old of Bob afore 'e finds it out, Dicky," ses BillChambers.
Dicky Weed didn't answer 'im; he was already running along to BobPretty's as fast as 'is legs would take 'im, with most of us folleringbehind to see wot 'appened.
"He was running along to Bob Pretty's as fast as 'is legswould take 'im."]
The door was fastened when we got to it, but Dicky Weed banged away at itas 'ard as he could bang, and at last the bedroom winder went up andMrs. Pretty stuck her 'ead out.
"H'sh!" she ses, in a whisper. "Go away."
"I want to see Bob," ses Dicky Weed.
"You can't see 'im," ses Mrs. Pretty. "I'm getting 'im to bed. He'sbeen shot, pore dear. Can't you 'ear 'im groaning?"
We 'adn't up to then, but a'most direckly arter she 'ad spoke you couldha' heard Bob's groans a mile away. Dreadful, they was.
"There, there, pore dear," ses Mrs. Pretty.
"Shall I come in and 'elp you get 'im to bed?" ses Dicky Weed, 'arfcrying.
"No, thank you, Mr. Weed," ses Mrs. Pretty. "It's very kind of you tooffer, but 'e wouldn't like any hands but mine to touch 'im. I'll sendin and let you know 'ow he is fust thing in the morning."
"Try and get 'old of the coat, Dicky," ses Bill Chambers, in a whisper."Offer to mend it for 'im. It's sure to want it."
"Well, I'm sorry I can't be no 'elp to you," ses Dicky Weed, "but Inoticed a rent in Bob's coat and, as 'e's likely to be laid up a bit, itud be a good opportunity for me to mend it for 'im. I won't charge 'imnothing. If you drop it down I'll do it now."
"Thankee," ses Mrs. Pretty; "if you just wait a moment I'll clear thepockets out and drop it down to you."
She turned back into the bedroom, and Dicky Weed ground 'is teethtogether and told Bill Chambers that the next time he took 'is advicehe'd remember it. He stood there trembling all over with temper, andwhen Mrs. Pretty came to the winder agin and dropped the coat on his 'eadand said that Bob felt his kindness very much, and he 'oped Dicky ud makea good job of it, because it was 'is favrite coat, he couldn't speak.He stood there shaking all over till Mrs. Pretty 'ad shut the winder downagin, and then 'e turned to the conjurer, as 'ad come up with the rest ofus, and asked 'im wot he was going to do about it now.
"I tell you he's got the watch," ses the conjurer, pointing up at thewinder. "It went into 'is pocket. I saw it go. He was no more shotthan you were. If 'e was, why doesn't he send for the doctor?"
"I can't 'elp that," ses Dicky Weed. "I want my watch or else twentypounds."
"We'll talk it over in a day or two," ses the conjurer. "I'm giving mycelebrated entertainment at Wickham Fair on Monday, but I'll come back'ere to the Cauliflower the Saturday before and give anotherentertainment, and then we'll see wot's to be done. I can't run away,because in any case I can't afford to miss the fair."
Dicky Weed gave way at last and went off 'ome to bed and told 'is wifeabout it, and listening to 'er advice he got up at six o'clock in themorning and went round to see 'ow Bob Pretty was.
Mrs. Pretty was up when 'e got there, and arter calling up the stairs toBob told Dicky Weed to go upstairs. Bob Pretty was sitting up in bedwith 'is face covered in bandages, and he seemed quite pleased to see'im.
"It ain't everybody that ud get up at six o'clock to see 'ow I'm gettingon," he ses. "You've got a feeling 'art, Dicky."
Dicky Weed coughed and looked round, wondering whether the watch was inthe room, and, if so, where it was hidden.
"Now I'm 'ere I may as well tidy up the room for you a bit," he ses,getting up. "I don't like sitting idle."
"Thankee, mate," ses Bob; and 'e lay still and watched Dicky Weed out ofthe corner of the eye that wasn't covered with the bandages.
I don't suppose that room 'ad ever been tidied up so thoroughly since thePrettys 'ad lived there, but Dicky Weed couldn't see anything o' thewatch, and wot made 'im more angry than anything else was Mrs. Prettysetting down in a chair with 'er 'ands folded in her lap and pointing outplaces that he 'adn't done.
"You leave 'im alone," ses Bob. "_He knows wot 'e's arter_. Wot did youdo with those little bits o' watch you found when you was bandaging meup, missis?"
"Don't ask me," ses Mrs. Pretty. "I was in such a state I don't know wotI was doing 'ardly."
"Well, they must be about somewhere," ses Bob. "You 'ave a look for 'em,Dicky, and if you find 'em, keep 'em. They belong to you."
Dicky Weed tried to be civil and thank 'im, and then he went off 'ome andtalked it over with 'is wife agin. People couldn't make up their mindswhether Bob Pretty 'ad found the watch in 'is pocket and was shamming, orwhether 'e was really shot, but they was all quite certain that,whichever way it was, Dicky Weed would never see 'is watch agin.
On the Saturday evening this 'ere Cauliflower public-'ouse was crowded,everybody being anxious to see the watch trick done over agin. We had'eard that it 'ad been done all right at Cudford and Monksham; but BobPretty said as 'ow he'd believe it when 'e saw it, and not afore.
He was one o' the fust to turn up that night, because 'e said 'e wantedto know wot the conjurer was going to pay him for all 'is pain andsuffering and having things said about 'is character. He came in leaningon a stick, with 'is face still bandaged, and sat right up close to theconjurer's table, and watched him as 'ard as he could as 'e went through'is tricks.
"And now," ses the conjurer, at last, "I come to my celebrated watchtrick. Some of you as wos 'ere last Tuesday when I did it will rememberthat the man I fired the pistol at pretended that 'e'd been shot and runoff 'ome with it in 'is pocket."
"You're a liar!" ses Bob Pretty, standing up. "Very good," ses theconjurer; "you take that bandage off and show us all where you're hurt."
"I shall do nothing o' the kind," ses Bob. I don't take my orders fromyou."
"Take the bandage off," ses the conjurer, "and if there's any shot marksI'll give you a couple o'
