Part 21 (1/2)

'Why can't we?'

'Because it can't be done!' cried Cra.s.s fiercely. 'It's impossible!'

'You're always sayin' that everything's all wrong,' complained Harlow, 'but why the 'ell don't you tell us 'ow they're goin' to be put right?'

'It doesn't seem to me as if any of you really wish to know. I believe that even if it were proved that it could be done, most of you would be sorry and would do all you could to prevent it.'

''E don't know 'isself,' sneered Cra.s.s. 'Accordin' to 'im, Tariff Reform ain't no b.l.o.o.d.y good--Free Trade ain't no b.l.o.o.d.y good, and everybody else is wrong! But when you arst 'im what ought to be done--'e's flummoxed.'

Cra.s.s 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 Cra.s.s 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, Cra.s.s 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 b.l.o.o.d.y 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, Cra.s.s, in the kitchen, had resumed his seat by the fire with the purpose of finis.h.i.+ng 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 b.l.o.o.d.y fine mess you've made, what I can see of it!'

growled Cra.s.s. 'Look at all this water on the floor!'

Bert looked guiltily at the floor and turned very red.