by W. W. Jacobs
Produced by David Widger
CAPTAINS ALL
By W.W. Jacobs
BOB'S REDEMPTION
"Bob's Redemption."]
"GRATITOODE!" said the night-watchman, with a hard laugh. "_Hmf!_ Don'ttalk to me about gratitoode; I've seen too much of it. If people wotI've helped in my time 'ad only done arf their dooty--arf, mind you--Ishould be riding in my carriage."
Forgetful of the limitations of soap-boxes he attempted to illustrate hisremark by lolling, and nearly went over backwards. Recovering himself byan effort he gazed sternly across the river and smoked fiercely. It wasevident that he was brooding over an ill-used past.
'Arry Thomson was one of them, he said, at last. For over six months Iwrote all 'is love-letters for him, 'e being an iggernerant sort of manand only being able to do the kisses at the end, which he always insistedon doing 'imself: being jealous. Only three weeks arter he was married'e come up to where I was standing one day and set about me withoutsaying a word. I was a single man at the time and I didn't understandit. My idea was that he 'ad gone mad, and, being pretty artful andalways 'aving a horror of mad people, I let 'im chase me into apolice-station. Leastways, I would ha' let 'im, but he didn't come,and I all but got fourteen days for being drunk and disorderly.
Then there was Bill Clark. He 'ad been keeping comp'ny with a gal andgot tired of it, and to oblige 'im I went to her and told 'er he was amarried man with five children. Bill was as pleased as Punch at fust,but as soon as she took up with another chap he came round to see me andsaid as I'd ruined his life. We 'ad words about it--naturally--and I didruin it then to the extent of a couple o' ribs. I went to see 'im in thehorsepittle--place I've always been fond of--and the langwidge he used tome was so bad that they sent for the Sister to 'ear it.
That's on'y two out of dozens I could name. Arf the unpleasantnesses inmy life 'ave come out of doing kindnesses to people, and all thegratitoode I've 'ad for it I could put in a pint-pot with a pint o' beeralready in it.
The only case o' real gratitoode I ever heard of 'appened to a shipmateo' mine--a young chap named Bob Evans. Coming home from Auckland in abarque called the _Dragon Fly_ he fell overboard, and another chap namedGeorge Crofts, one o' the best swimmers I ever knew, went overboard arter'im and saved his life.
We was hardly moving at the time, and the sea was like a duck pond, butto 'ear Bob Evans talk you'd ha' thought that George Crofts was thebravest-'arted chap that ever lived. He 'adn't liked him afore, same asthe rest of us, George being a sly, mean sort o' chap; but arter George'ad saved his life 'e couldn't praise 'im enough. He said that so longas he 'ad a crust George should share it, and wotever George asked 'im heshould have.
The unfortnit part of it was that George took 'im at his word, and allthe rest of the v'y'ge he acted as though Bob belonged to 'im, and by thetime we got into the London river Bob couldn't call his soul 'is own. Heused to take a room when he was ashore and live very steady, as 'e wassaving up to get married, and as soon as he found that out George invited'imself to stay with him.
"It won't cost you a bit more," he ses, "not if you work it properly."
Bob didn't work it properly, but George having saved his life, and neverletting 'im forget it, he didn't like to tell him so. He thought he'dlet 'im see gradual that he'd got to be careful because of 'is gal, andthe fust evening they was ashore 'e took 'im along with 'im there to tea.
Gerty Mitchell--that was the gal's name--'adn't heard of Bob's accident,and when she did she gave a little scream, and putting 'er arms round hisneck, began to kiss 'im right in front of George and her mother.
"You ought to give him one too," ses Mrs. Mitchell, pointing to George.
George wiped 'is mouth on the back of his 'and, but Gerty pretended notto 'ear.
"Fancy if you'd been drownded!" she ses, hugging Bob agin.
"He was pretty near," ses George, shaking his 'ead. "I'm a pore swimmer,but I made up my mind either to save 'im or else go down to a waterygrave myself."
He wiped his mouth on the back of his 'and agin, but all the notice Gertytook of it was to send her young brother Ted out for some beer. Thenthey all 'ad supper together, and Mrs. Mitchell drank good luck to Georgein a glass o' beer, and said she 'oped that 'er own boy would grow uplike him. "Let 'im grow up a good and brave man, that's all I ask," sheses. "I don't care about 'is looks."
"He might have both," ses George, sharp-like. "Why not?"
Mrs. Mitchell said she supposed he might, and then she cuffed young Ted'sears for making a noise while 'e was eating, and then cuffed 'im agin forsaying that he'd finished 'is supper five minutes ago.
George and Bob walked 'ome together, and all the way there George saidwot a pretty gal Gerty was and 'ow lucky it was for Bob that he 'adn'tbeen drownded. He went round to tea with 'im the next day to Mrs.Mitchell's, and arter tea, when Bob and Gerty said they was going out tospend the evening together, got 'imself asked too.
They took a tram-car and went to a music-hall, and Bob paid for the threeof 'em. George never seemed to think of putting his 'and in his pocket,and even arter the music-hall, when they all went into a shop and 'adstewed eels, he let Bob pay.
As I said afore, Bob Evans was chock-full of gratefulness, and it seemedonly fair that he shouldn't grumble at spending a little over the man wot'ad risked 'is life to save his; but wot with keeping George at his room,and paying for 'im every time they went out, he was spending a lot moremoney than 'e could afford.
"You're on'y young once, Bob," George said to him when 'e made a remarkone arternoon as to the fast way his money was going, "and if it hadn'tha' been for me you'd never 'ave lived to grow old."
Wot with spending the money and always 'aving George with them when theywent out, it wasn't long afore Bob and Gerty 'ad a quarrel. "I don'tlike a pore-spirited man," she ses. "Two's company and three's none,and, besides, why can't he pay for 'imself? He's big enough. Why shouldyou spend your money on 'im? He never pays a farthing."
Bob explained that he couldn't say anything because 'e owed his life toGeorge, but 'e might as well 'ave talked to a lamp-post. The more heargued the more angry Gerty got, and at last she ses, "Two's company andthree's none, and if you and me can't go out without George Crofts, thenme and 'im 'll go out with-out you."
She was as good as her word, too, and the next night, while Bob 'ad goneout to get some 'bacca, she went off alone with George. It was teno'clock afore they came back agin, and Gerty's eyes were all shining and'er cheeks as pink as roses. She shut 'er mother up like a concertinathe moment she began to find fault with 'er, and at supper she sat nextto George and laughed at everything 'e said.
George and Bob walked all the way 'ome arter supper without saying aword, but arter they got to their room George took a side-look at Bob,and then he ses, suddenlike, "Look 'ere! I saved your life, didn't I?"
"You did," ses Bob, "and I thank you for it."
"I saved your life," ses George agin, very solemn. "If it hadn't ha'been for me you couldn't ha' married anybody."
"That's true," ses Bob.
"Me and Gerty 'ave been having a talk," ses George, bending down to undohis boots. "We've been getting on very well together; you can't 'elpyour feelings, and the long and the short of it is, the pore gal hasfallen in love with me."
Bob didn't say a word.
"If you look at it this way it's fair enough," ses George. "I gave youyour life and you give me your gal. We're quits now. You don't owe meanything and I don't owe you anything. That's the way Gerty puts it, andshe told me to tell you so."
"If--if she don't want me I'm agreeable," ses Bob, in a choking voice."We'll call it quits, and next time I tumble overboard I 'ope you won'tbe handy."
He took Ger
ty's photygraph out of 'is box and handed it to George."You've got more right to it now
