by W. W. Jacobs
went upto see 'ow Henery was getting on he was carrying on that alarming thatshe couldn't do nothing with 'im.
He was laid up for over a week, though it's my opinion he wasn't muchhurt, and the trouble was that nobody knew which gentleman 'ad shot 'im.Mr. Sutton talked it over with them, and at last, arter a good deal o'trouble, and Henery pulling up 'is trousers and showing them 'is leg tillthey was fair sick of the sight of it, they paid 'im ten pounds, the sameas they 'ad Bill.
It took Bob Pretty two days to get his arf, but he kept very quiet aboutit, not wishing to make a fuss in the village for fear Mr. Sutton shouldget to hear of the club. At last he told Henery Walker that 'e was goingto Wickham to see 'is lawyer about it, and arter Smith the landlord 'adread the paper to Henery and explained 'ow he'd very likely 'ave to paymore than the whole ten pounds then, 'e gave Bob his arf and said henever wanted to see 'im again as long as he lived.
Bob stood treat up at the _Cauliflower_ that night, and said 'ow bad he'dbeen treated. The tears stood in 'is eyes a'most, and at last 'e saidthat if 'e thought there was going to be any more fuss of that kind he'dwind up the club.
"It's the best thing you can do," ses Sam Jones; "I'm not going to belongto it any longer, so I give you notice. If so be as I get shot I wantthe money for myself."
"Me, too," ses Peter Gubbins; "it 'ud fair break my 'art to give BobPretty five pounds. I'd sooner give it to my wife."
All the other chaps said the same thing, but Bob pointed out to them thatthey 'ad taken their sixpences on'y the night afore, and they must stayin for the week. He said that was the law. Some of 'em talked aboutgiving 'im 'is sixpences back, but Bob said if they did they must pay upall the sixpences they had 'ad for three weeks. The end of it was theysaid they'd stay in for that week and not a moment longer.
The next day Sam Jones and Peter Gubbins altered their minds. Sam founda couple o' shillings that his wife 'ad hidden in her Sunday bonnet, andPeter Gubbins opened 'is boy's money-box to see 'ow much there was in it.They came up to the _Cauliflower_ to pay Bob their eighteen-pences, but hewasn't there, and when they went to his 'ouse Mrs. Pretty said as 'owhe'd gone off to Wickham and wouldn't be back till Saturday. So they 'adto spend the money on beer instead.
That was on Tuesday, and things went on all right till Friday, when Mr.Sutton 'ad another shoot. The birds was getting scarce and the gentlementhat anxious to shoot them there was no 'olding them. Once or twice thekeepers spoke to 'em about carefulness, and said wot large familiesthey'd got, but it wasn't much good. They went on blazing away, and justat the corner of the wood Sam Jones and Peter Gubbins was both hit; Samin the leg and Peter in the arm.
The noise that was made was awful--everybody shouting that they 'adn'tdone it, and all speaking at once, and Mr. Sutton was dancing abouta'most beside 'imself with rage. Pore Sam and Peter was 'elped along bythe others; Sam being carried and Peter led, and both of 'em with theidea of getting all they could out of it, making such 'orrible noisesthat Mr. Sutton couldn't hear 'imself calling his friends names.
"There seems to be wounded men calling out all over the place," he ses,in a temper.
"I think there is another one over there, sir," ses one o' the keepers,pointing.
Sam Jones and Peter Gubbins both left off to listen, and then they allheard it distinctly. A dreadful noise it was, and when Mr. Sutton andone or two more follered it up they found poor Walter Bell lying on 'isface in a bramble.
"Wot's the matter?" ses Mr. Sutton, shouting at 'im.
"I've been shot from behind," ses Walter. "I'd got something in my boot,and I was just stooping down to fasten it up agin when I got it.
"But there oughtn't to be anybody 'ere," ses Mr. Sutton to one of thekeepers.
"They get all over the place, sir," ses the 'keeper, scratching his 'ead."I fancied I 'eard a gun go off here a minute or two arter the others wasshot."
"I believe he's done it 'imself," says Mr. Sutton, stamping his foot.
"I don't see 'ow he could, sir," ses the keeper, touching his cap andlooking at Walter as was still lying with 'is face on 'is arms.
They carried Walter 'ome that way on a hurdle, and Dr. Green spent allthe rest o' that day picking shots out o' them three men and telling 'emto keep still. He 'ad to do Sam Jones by candle-light, with Mrs. Jones'olding the candle with one hand and crying with the other. Twice thedoctor told her to keep it steady, and poor Sam 'ad only just passed theremark, "How 'ot it was for October," when they discovered that the bedwas on fire. The doctor said that Sam was no trouble. He got off of thebed by 'imself, and, when it was all over and the fire put out, thedoctor found him sitting on the stairs with the leg of a broken chair in'is hand calling for 'is wife.
Of course, there was a terrible to-do about it in Claybury, and up at theHall, too. All of the gentlemen said as 'ow they hadn't done it, and Mr.Sutton was arf crazy with rage. He said that they 'ad made 'im thelaughing-stock of the neighbourhood, and that they oughtn't to shoot withanything but pop-guns. They got to such high words over it that two ofthe gentlemen went off 'ome that very night.
There was a lot of talk up at the _Cauliflower,_ too, and more than onepointed out 'ow lucky Bob Pretty was in getting four men out of the sixin his club. As I said afore, Bob was away at the time, but he came backthe next night and we 'ad the biggest row here you could wish for to see.
Henery Walker began it. "I s'pose you've 'eard the dreadful news, BobPretty?" he ses, looking at 'im.
"I 'ave," ses Bob; "and my 'art bled for 'em. I told you wot thosegentlemen was like, didn't I? But none of you would believe me. Now youcan see as I was right."
"It's very strange," ses Henery Walker, looking round; "it's very strangethat all of us wot's been shot belonged to Bob Pretty's precious club."
"It's my luck, Henery," ses Bob, "always was lucky from a child."
"And I s'pose you think you're going to 'ave arf of the money they get?"ses Henery Walker.
"Don't talk about money while them pore chaps is suffering," ses Bob."I'm surprised at you, Henery."
"You won't 'ave a farthing of it," ses Henery Walker; "and wot's more,Bob Pretty, I'm going to 'ave my five pounds back."
"Don't you believe it, Henery," ses Bob, smiling at 'im.
"I'm going to 'ave my five pounds back," ses Henery, "and you know why.I know wot your club was for now, and we was all a pack o' silly foolsnot to see it afore."
"Speak for yourself, Henery," ses John Biggs, who thought Henery waslooking at 'im.
"I've been putting two and two together," ses Henery, looking round, "andit's as plain as the nose on your face. Bob Pretty hid up in the woodand shot us all himself!"
For a moment you might 'ave heard a pin drop, and then there was such anoise nobody could hear theirselves speak. Everybody was shouting his'ardest, and the on'y quiet one there was Bob Pretty 'imself.
"Poor Henery; he's gorn mad," he ses, shaking his 'ead.
"You're a murderer," ses Ralph Thomson, shaking 'is fist at him.
"Henery Walker's gorn mad," ses Bob agin. "Why, I ain't been near theplace. There's a dozen men'll swear that I was at Wickham each timethese misfortunate accidents 'appened."
"Men like you, they'd swear anything for a pot o' beer," ses Henery."But I'm not going to waste time talking to you, Bob Pretty. I'm goingstraight off to tell Mr. Sutton."
"I shouldn't do that if I was you, Henery," ses Bob.
"I dessay," ses Henery Walker; "but then you see I am."
"I thought you'd gorn mad, Henery," ses Bob, taking a drink o' beer thatsomebody 'ad left on the table by mistake, "and now I'm sure of it. Why,if you tell Mr. Sutton that it wasn't his friends that shot them porefellers he won't pay them anything. 'Tain't likely 'e would, is it?"
Henery Walker, wot 'ad been standing up looking fierce at 'im, sat downagin, struck all of a heap.
"And he might want your ten pounds back, Henery," said Bob in a softvoice. "And seeing as 'ow you was kind enough to give five to me, andspent
