the ragged trousered philanthropists-第20章

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d　be　done；　most　of　you　would　be　sorry　and　would　do　all　you　could　to　prevent　it。'

‘'E　don't　know　'isself；'　sneered　Crass。　　‘Accordin'　to　'im；　Tariff　Reform　ain't　no　bloody　good　…　Free　Trade　ain't　no　bloody　good；　and　everybody　else　is　wrong！　　But　when　you　arst　'im　what　ought　to　be　done　…　'e's　flummoxed。'

Crass　did　not　feel　very　satisfied　with　the　result　of　this　machinery　argument；　but　he　consoled　himself　with　the　reflection　that　he　would　be　able　to　flatten　out　his　opponent　on　another　subject。　　The　cutting　from　the　Obscurer　which　he　had　in　his　pocket　would　take　a　bit　of　answering！　When　you　have　a　thing　in　print　…　in　black　and　white　…　why　there　it　is；　and　you　can't　get　away　from　it！　　If　it　wasn't　right；　a　paper　like　that　would　never　have　printed　it。　　However；　as　it　was　now　nearly　half　past　eight；　he　resolved　to　defer　this　triumph　till　another　occasion。　　It　was　too　good　a　thing　to　be　disposed　of　in　a　hurry。



Chapter　8

The　Cap　on　the　Stairs


After　breakfast；　when　they　were　working　together　in　the　drawing…room；　Easton；　desiring　to　do　Owen　a　good　turn；　thought　he　would　put　him　on　his　guard；　and　repeated　to　him　in　a　whisper　the　substance　of　the　conversation　he　had　held　with　Crass　concerning　him。

‘Of　course；　you　needn't　mention　that　I　told　you；　Frank；'　he　said；　‘but　I　thought　I　ought　to　let　you　know：　you　can　take　it　from　me；　Crass　ain't　no　friend　of　yours。'

‘I've　know　that　for　a　long　time；　mate；'　replied　Owen。　　‘Thanks　for　telling　me；　all　the　same。'

‘The　bloody　rotter's　no　friend　of　mine　either；　or　anyone　else's；　for　that　matter；'　Easton　continued；　‘but　of　course　it　doesn't　do　to　fall　out　with　'im　because　you　never　know　what　he'd　go　and　say　to　ol'　'Unter。'

‘Yes；　one　has　to　remember　that。'

‘Of　course　we　all　know　what's　the　matter　with　'im　as　far　as　YOU'RE　concerned；'　Easton　went　on。　　‘He　don't　like　'avin'　anyone　on　the　firm　wot　knows　more　about　the　work　than　'e　does　'imself　…　thinks　'e　might　git　worked　out　of　'is　job。'

Owen　laughed　bitterly。

‘He　needn't　be　afraid　of　ME　on　THAT　account。　　I　wouldn't　have　his　job　if　it　were　offered　to　me。'

‘But　'e　don't　think　so；'　replied　Easton；　‘and　that's　why　'e's　got　'is　knife　into　you；'

‘I　believe　that　what　he　said　about　Hunter　is　true　enough；'　said　Owen。　‘Every　time　he　comes　here　he　tries　to　goad　me　into　doing　or　saying　something　that　would　give　him　an　excuse　to　tell　me　to　clear　out。　　I　might　have　done　it　before　now　if　I　had　not　guessed　what　he　was　after；　and　been　on　my　guard。'

Meantime；　Crass；　in　the　kitchen；　had　resumed　his　seat　by　the　fire　with　the　purpose　of　finishing　his　pipe　of　tobacco。　　Presently　he　took　out　his　pocket…book　and　began　to　write　in　it　with　a　piece　of　black…lead　pencil。　　When　the　pipe　was　smoked　out　he　knocked　the　bowl　against　the　grate　to　get　rid　of　the　ash；　and　placed　the　pipe　in　his　waistcoat　pocket。　　Then；　having　torn　out　the　leaf　on　which　he　had　been　writing；　he　got　up　and　went　into　the　pantry；　where　Bert　was　still　struggling　with　the　old　whitewash。

‘Ain't　yer　nearly　finished？　　I　don't　want　yer　to　stop　in　'ere　all　day；　yer　know。'

‘I　ain't　got　much　more　to　do　now；'　said　the　boy。　　‘Just　this　bit　under　the　bottom　shelf　and　then　I'm　done。'

‘Yes；　and　a　bloody　fine　mess　you've　made；　what　I　can　see　of　it！'　growled　Crass。　　‘Look　at　all　this　water　on　the　floor！'

Bert　looked　guiltily　at　the　floor　and　turned　very　red。

‘I'll　clean　it　all　up'；　he　stammered。　　‘As　soon　as　I've　got　this　bit　of　wall　done；　I'll　wipe　all　the　mess　up　with　the　swab。'

Crass　now　took　a　pot　of　paint　and　some　brushes　and；　having　put　some　more　fuel　on　the　fire；　began　in　a　leisurely　way　to　paint　some　of　the　woodwork　in　the　kitchen。　　Presently　Bert　came　in。

‘I've　finished　there；'　he　said。

‘About　time；　too。　　You'll　'ave　to　look　a　bit　livelier　than　you　do；　you　know；　or　me　and　you　will　fall　out。'

Bert　did　not　answer。

‘Now　I've　got　another　job　for　yer。　　You're　fond　of　drorin；　ain't　yer？'　continued　Crass　in　a　jeering　tone。

‘Yes；　a　little；'　replied　the　boy；　shamefacedly。

‘Well；'　said　Crass；　giving　him　the　leaf　he　had　torn　out　of　the　pocket…book；　‘you　can　go　up　to　the　yard　and　git　them　things　and　put　'em　on　a　truck　and　dror　it　up　'ere；　and　git　back　as　soon　as　you　can。　Just　look　at　the　paper　and　see　if　you　understand　it　before　you　go。　　I　don't　want　you　to　make　no　mistakes。'

Bert　took　the　paper　and　with　some　difficulty　read　as　follows：

　　　　I　pare　steppes　8　foot　　　　　1/2　gallon　Plastor　off　perish　　　　　1　pale　off　witewosh　　　　　12　lbs　wite　led　　　　　1/2　gallon　Linsede　Hoil　　　　　Do。　Do。　turps

‘I　can　make　it　out　all　right。'

‘You'd　better　bring　the　big　truck；'　said　Crass；　‘because　I　want　you　to　take　the　venetian　blinds　with　you　on　it　when　you　take　it　back　tonight。　They've　got　to　be　painted　at　the　shop。'

‘All　right。'

When　the　boy　had　departed　Crass　took　a　stroll　through　the　house　to　see　how　the　others　were　getting　on。　　Then　he　returned　to　the　kitchen　and　proceeded　with　his　work。

Crass　was　about　thirty…eight　years　of　age；　rather　above　middle　height　and　rather　stout。　　He　had　a　considerable　quantity　of　curly　black　hair　and　wore　a　short　beard　of　the　same　colour。　　His　head　was　rather　large；　but　low；　and　flat　on　top。　　When　among　his　cronies　he　was　in　the　habit　of　referring　to　his　obesity　as　the　result　of　good　nature　and　a　contented　mind。　　Behind　his　back　other　people　attributed　it　to　beer；　some　even　going　to　far　as　to　nickname　him　the　‘tank'。

There　was　no　work　of　a　noisy　kind　being　done　this　morning。　　Both　the　carpenters　and　the　bricklayers　having　been　taken　away；　temporarily；　to　another　‘job'。　　At　the　same　time　there　was　not　absolute　silence：　occasionally　Crass　could　hear　the　voices　of　the　other　workmen　as　they　spoke　to　each　other；　sometimes　shouting　from　one　room　to　another。　　Now　and　then　Harlow's　voice　rang　through　the　house　as　he　sang　snatches　of　music…hall　songs　or　a　verse　of　a　Moody　and　Sankey　hymn；　and　occasionally　some　of　the　others　joined　in　the　chorus　or　interrupted　the　singer　with　squeals　and　catcalls。　　Once　or　twice　Crass　was　on　the　point　of　telling　them　to　make　less　row：　there　would　be　a　fine　to　do　if　Nimrod　came　and　heard　them。　　Just　as　he　had　made　up　his　mind　to　tell　them　to　stop　the　noise；　it　ceased　of　itself　and　he　heard　loud　whispers：

‘Look　out！　　Someone's　comin'。'

The　house　became　very　quiet。

Crass　put　out　his　pipe　and　opened　the　window　and　the　back　door　to　get　rid　of　the　smell　of　the　tobacco　smoke。　　Then　he　shifted　the　pair　of　steps　noisily；　and　proceeded　to　work　more　quickly　than　before。　　Most　likely　it　was　old　Misery。

He　worked　on　for　some　time　in　silence；　but　no　one　came　to　the　kitchen：　whoever　it　was　must　have　gone　upstairs。　　Crass　listened　attentively。　Who　could　it　be？　　He　would　have　liked　to　go　to　see　whom　it　was；　but　at　the　same　time；　if　it　were　Nimrod；　Crass　wished　to　be　discovered　at　work。　　He　therefore　waited　a　little　longer　and　presently　he　heard　the　sound　of　voices　upstairs　but　was　unable　to　recognize　them。　　He　was　just　about　to　go　out　into　the　passage　to　listen；　when　whoever　it　was　began　coming　downstairs。　　Crass　at　once　resumed　his　work。　　The　footsteps　came　along　the　passage　leading　to　the　kitchen：　slow；　heavy；　ponderous　footsteps；　but　yet　the　sound　was　not　such　as　would　be　made　by　a　man　heavily　shod。　　It　was　not　Misery；　evidently。

As　the　footsteps　entered　the　kitchen；　Crass　looked　round　and　beheld　a　very　tall；　obese　figure；　with　a　large；　fleshy；　coarse…featured；　clean…shaven　face；　and　a　great　double　chin；　the　complexion　being　of　the　colour　and　appearance　of　the　fat　of　uncooked　bacon。　　A　very　large　fleshy　nose　and　weak…looking　pale　blue　eyes；　the　slightly　inflamed　lids　being　almost　destitute　of　eye…lashes。　　He　had　large　fat　feet　cased　in　soft　calfskin　boots；　with　drab…coloured　spats。　　His　overcoat；　heavily　trimmed　with　sealskin；　reached　just　below　the　knees；　and　although　the　trousers　were　very　wide　they　were　filled　by　the　fat　legs　within；　the　shape　of　the　calves　being　distinctly　perceptible。　　Even　as　the　feet　seemed　about　to　burst　the　uppers　of　the　boots；　so　the　legs　appeared　to　threaten　the　trousers　with　disruption。　　This　man　was　so　large　that　his　figure　completely　filled　up　the　doorway；　and　as　he　came　in　he　stooped　slightly　to　avoid　damaging　the　glittering　silk　hat　on　his　head。　　One　gloved　hand　was　thrust　into　the　pocket　of　the　overcoat　and　in　the　other　he　carried　a　small　Gladstone　bag。

When　Crass　beheld　this　being；　he　touched　his　cap　respectfully。

‘Good　morning；　sir！'

‘Good　morning。　　They　told　me　upstairs　that　I　should　find　the　foreman　here。　　Are　you　the　foreman？'

‘Yes；　sir。'

‘I　see　you're　getting　on　with　the　work　here。'

‘Ho　yes　sir；　we're　beginning　to　make　a　bit　hov　a　show　now；　sir；'　replied　Crass；　speaking　as　if　he　had　a　hot　potato　in　his　mouth。

‘Mr　Rushton　isn't　here　yet；　I　suppose？'

‘No；　sir：　'e　don't　horfun　come　hon　the　job　hin　the　mornin；　sir；　'e　generally　comes　hafternoons；　sir；　but　Mr　'Unter's　halmost　sure　to　be　'ere　presently；　sir。'

‘It's　Mr　Rushton　I　want　to　see：　I　arranged　to　meet　him　here　at　ten　o'clock；　but'　…　looking　at　his　watch　…　‘I'm　rather　before　my　time。'

‘He'll　be　here　presently；　I　suppose；'　added　Mr　Sweater。　　‘I'll　just　take　a　look　round　till　he　comes。'

‘Yes；　sir；'　responded　Crass；　walking　behind　him　obsequiously　as　he　went　out　of　the　room。

Hoping　that　the　gentleman　might　give　him　a　shilling；　Crass　followed　him　into　the　front　hall　and　began　explaining　what　progress　had　so　far　been　made　with　the　work；　but　as　Mr　Sweater　answered　only　by　monosyllables　and　grunts；　Crass　presently　concluded　that　his　conversation　was　not　appreciated　and　returned　to　the　kitchen。

Meantime；　upstairs；　Philpot　had　gone　into　Newman's　room　and　was　discussing　with　him　the　possibility　of　extracting　from　Mr　Sweater　the　price　of　a　little　light　refreshment。

‘I　think；'　he　remarked；　‘that　we　oughter　see…ise　this　'ere　tuneropperty　to　touch　'im　for　an　allowance。'

‘We　won't　git　nothin'　out　of　'IM；　mate；'　returned　Newman。　　‘'E's　a　red…'ot　teetotaller。'

‘That　don't　matter。　　'Ow's　'e　to　know　that　we　buys　beer　with　it？　　We　might　'ave　tea；　or　ginger　ale；　or　lime…juice　and　glycerine　for　all　'e　knows！'

Mr　Sweater　now　bgan　ponderously　re…ascending　the　stairs　and　presently　came　into　the　room　where　Philpot　was。　　The　latter　greeted　him　with　respectful　cordiality：

‘Good　morning；　sir。'

‘Good　morning。　　You've　begun　painting　up　here；　then。'

‘Yes；　sir；　we've　made　a　start　on　it；'　replied　Philpot；　affably。

‘Is　this　door　wet？'　asked　Sweater；　glancing　apprehensively　at　the　sleeve　of　his　coat。

‘Yes；　sir；'　answered　Philpot；　and　added；　as　he　looked　meaningly　at　the　great　man；　‘the　paint　is　wet；　sir；　but　the　PAINTERS　is　dry。'

‘Confound　it！'　exclaimed　Sweater；　ignoring；　or　not　hearing　the　latter　part　of　Philpot's　reply。　　‘I've　got　some　of　the　beastly　stuff　on　my　coat　sleeve。'

‘Oh；　that's　nothing；　sir；'　cried　Philpot；　secretly　delighted。　　‘I'll　get　that　orf　for　yer　in　no　time。　　You　wait　just　'arf　a　mo！'

He　had　a　piece　of　clean　rag　in　his　tool　bag；　and　there　was　a　can　of　turps　in　the　room。　　Moistening　the　rag　slightly　with　turps　he　carefully　removed　the　paint　from　Sweater's　sleeve。

‘It's　all　orf　not；　sir；'　he　remarked；　as　he　rubbed　the　place　with　a　dry　part　of　the　rag。　　‘The　smell　of　the　turps　will　go　away　in　about　a　hour's　time。'

‘Thanks；'　said　Sweater。

Philpot　looked　at