by W. W. Jacobs
shillings, then," ses George Barstow, getting more and moresuspicious like; "four shillings--five shillings."
Bill Chambers shook his 'ead, and George Barstow, more and more certainthat he 'ad caught 'im trying to kill 'is cat and that 'e wouldn't eatthe stuff, rose 'im up to ten shillings.
Bill looked at the butter and then 'e looked at the ten shillings on thetable, and at last he shut 'is eyes and gulped it down and put the moneyin 'is pocket.
"You see, I 'ave to be careful, Bill," ses George Barstow, rather upset.
Bill Chambers didn't answer 'im. He sat there as white as a sheet, andmaking such extraordinary faces that George was arf afraid of 'im.
"Anything wrong, Bill?" he ses at last.
Bill sat staring at 'im, and then all of a sudden he clapped 'is'andkerchief to 'is mouth and, getting up from his chair, opened the doorand rushed out. George Barstow thought at fust that he 'ad eaten pisonfor the sake o' the ten shillings, but when 'e remembered that BillChambers 'ad got the most delikit stummick in Claybury he altered 'ismind.
The cat was better next morning, but George Barstow had 'ad such a frightabout it 'e wouldn't let it go out of 'is sight, and Joe Clark began tothink that 'e would 'ave to wait longer for that property than 'e hadthought, arter all. To 'ear 'im talk anybody'd ha' thought that 'e lovedthat cat. We didn't pay much attention to it up at the _Cauliflower_'ere, except maybe to wink at 'im--a thing he couldn't a bear--but at'ome, o' course, his young 'uns thought as everything he said wasGospel; and one day, coming 'ome from work, as he was passing GeorgeBarstow's he was paid out for his deceitfulness.
"I've wronged you, Joe Clark," ses George Barstow, coming to the door,"and I'm sorry for it."
"Oh!" ses Joe, staring.
"Give that to your little Jimmy," ses George Barstow, giving 'im ashilling. "I've give 'im one, but I thought arterwards it wasn'tenough."
"What for?" ses Joe, staring at 'im agin.
"For bringing my cat 'ome," ses George Barstow. "'Ow it got out I can'tthink, but I lost it for three hours, and I'd about given it up when yourlittle Jimmy brought it to me in 'is arms. He's a fine little chap and'e does you credit."
Joe Clark tried to speak, but he couldn't get a word out, and HeneryWalker, wot 'ad just come up and 'eard wot passed, took hold of 'is armand helped 'im home. He walked like a man in a dream, but arf-way hestopped and cut a stick from the hedge to take 'ome to little Jimmy. Hesaid the boy 'ad been asking him for a stick for some time, but up tillthen 'e'd always forgotten it.
At the end o' the fust year that cat was still alive, to everybody'ssurprise; but George Barstow took such care of it 'e never let it out of'is sight. Every time 'e went out he took it with 'im in a hamper, and,to prevent its being pisoned, he paid Isaac Sawyer, who 'ad the biggestfamily in Claybury, sixpence a week to let one of 'is boys taste its milkbefore it had it.
The second year it was ill twice, but the horse-doctor that GeorgeBarstow got for it said that it was as 'ard as nails, and with care itmight live to be twenty. He said that it wanted more fresh air andexercise; but when he 'eard 'ow George Barstow come by it he said thatp'r'aps it would live longer indoors arter all.
At last one day, when George Barstow 'ad been living on the fat o' theland for nearly three years, that cat got out agin. George 'ad raisedthe front-room winder two or three inches to throw something outside,and, afore he knew wot was 'appening, the cat was out-side and going upthe road about twenty miles an hour.
George Barstow went arter it, but he might as well ha' tried to catch thewind. The cat was arf wild with joy at getting out agin, and he couldn'tget within arf a mile of it.
He stayed out all day without food or drink, follering it about until itcame on dark, and then, o' course, he lost sight of it, and, hopingagainst 'ope that it would come home for its food, he went 'ome andwaited for it. He sat up all night dozing in a chair in the front roomwith the door left open, but it was all no use; and arter thinking for along time wot was best to do, he went out and told some o' the folks itwas lost and offered a reward of five pounds for it.
You never saw such a hunt then in all your life. Nearly every man,woman, and child in Claybury left their work or school and went to tryand earn that five pounds. By the arternoon George Barstow made it tenpounds provided the cat was brought 'ome safe and sound, and people aswas too old to walk stood at their cottage doors to snap it up as it cameby.
Joe Clark was hunting for it 'igh and low, and so was 'is wife and theboys. In fact, I b'lieve that everybody in Claybury excepting the parsonand Bob Pretty was trying to get that ten pounds.
O' course, we could understand the parson--'is pride wouldn't let 'im;but a low, poaching, thieving rascal like Bob Pretty turning up 'is noseat ten pounds was more than we could make out. Even on the second day,when George Barstow made it ten pounds down and a shilling a week for ayear besides, he didn't offer to stir; all he did was to try and make funo' them as was looking for it.
"Have you looked everywhere you can think of for it, Bill?" he ses toBill Chambers. "Yes, I 'ave," ses Bill.
"Well, then, you want to look everywhere else," ses Bob Pretty. "I knowwhere I should look if I wanted to find it."
"Why don't you find it, then?" ses Bill.
"'Cos I don't want to make mischief," ses Bob Pretty. "I don't want tobe unneighbourly to Joe Clark by interfering at all."
"Not for all that money?" ses Bill.
"Not for fifty pounds," ses Bob Pretty; "you ought to know me better thanthat, Bill Chambers."
"It's my belief that you know more about where that cat is than you oughtto," ses Joe Gubbins.
"You go on looking for it, Joe," ses Bob Pretty, grinning; "it's goodexercise for you, and you've only lost two days' work."
"I'll give you arf a crown if you let me search your 'ouse, Bob," sesBill Chambers, looking at 'im very 'ard.
"I couldn't do it at the price, Bill," ses Bob Pretty, shaking his 'ead."I'm a pore man, but I'm very partikler who I 'ave come into my 'ouse."
O' course, everybody left off looking at once when they heard about Bob--not that they believed that he'd be such a fool as to keep the cat in his'ouse; and that evening, as soon as it was dark, Joe Clark went round tosee 'im.
"Don't tell me as that cat's found, Joe," ses Bob Pretty, as Joe openedthe door.
"Not as I've 'eard of," said Joe, stepping inside. "I wanted to speak toyou about it; the sooner it's found the better I shall be pleased."
"It does you credit, Joe Clark," ses Bob Pretty.
"It's my belief that it's dead," ses Joe, looking at 'im very 'ard; "butI want to make sure afore taking over the property."
Bob Pretty looked at 'im and then he gave a little cough. "Oh, you wantit to be found dead," he ses. "Now, I wonder whether that cat's worthmost dead or alive?"
Joe Clark coughed then. "Dead, I should think," he ses at last."George Barstow's just 'ad bills printed offering fifteen pounds for it,"ses Bob Pretty.
"I'll give that or more when I come into the property," ses Joe Clark.
"There's nothing like ready-money, though, is there?" ses Bob.
"I'll promise it to you in writing, Bob," ses Joe, trembling.
"There's some things that don't look well in writing, Joe," says BobPretty, considering; "besides, why should you promise it to me?"
"O' course, I meant if you found it," ses Joe.
"Well, I'll do my best, Joe," ses Bob Pretty; "and none of us can do nomore than that, can they?"
They sat talking and argufying over it for over an hour, and twice BobPretty got up and said 'e was going to see whether George Barstowwouldn't offer more. By the time they parted they was as thick asthieves, and next morning Bob Pretty was wearing Joe Clark's watch andchain, and Mrs. Pretty was up at Joe's 'ouse to see whether there was anyof 'is furniture as she 'ad a fancy for.
She didn't seem to be able to make up 'er mind at fust between a chest o'drawers that 'ad belonged to Joe's mother and a grand-father clock. Shewalked from
one to the other for about ten minutes,
