Part 58 (2/2)

replied Bundy, as he a.s.sisted to lift a sack of cement weighing about two hundredweight on to Dawson's back. 'We're finished now.'

When they had cleared away all the dirt and fragments of bricks and mortar, while Cra.s.s and Slyme proceeded with the painting, Bundy and Dawson loaded up their hand-cart with the old range and the bags of unused cement and plaster, which they took back to the yard. Meantime, Misery was wandering about the house and gounds like an evil spirit seeking rest and finding none. He stood for some time gloomily watching the four gardeners, who were busily at work laying strips of turf, mowing the lawn, rolling the gravel paths and tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the trees and bushes. The boy Bert, Philpot, Harlow, Easton and Sawkins were loading a hand-cart with ladders and empty paint-pots to return to the yard. Just as they were setting out, Misery stopped them, remarking that the cart was not half loaded--he said it would take a month to get all the stuff away if they went on like that; so by his directions they placed another long ladder on top of the pile and once more started on their way, but before they had gone two dozen yards one of the wheels of the cart collapsed and the load was scattered over the roadway.

Bert was at the same side of the cart as the wheel that broke and he was thrown violently to the ground, where he lay half stunned, in the midst of the ladders and planks. When they got him out they were astonished to find that, thanks to the special Providence that watches over all small boys, he was almost unhurt--just a little dazed, that was all; and by the time Sawkins returned with another cart, Bert was able to help to gather up the fallen paint-pots and to accompany the men with the load to the yard. At the corner of the road they paused to take a last look at the 'job'.

'There it stands!' said Harlow, tragically, extending his arm towards the house. 'There it stands! A job that if they'd only have let us do it properly, couldn't 'ave been done with the number of 'ands we've 'ad, in less than four months; and there it is, finished, messed up, s...o...b..red over and scamped, in nine weeks!'

'Yes, and now we can all go to 'ell,' said Philpot, gloomily.

At the yard they found Bundy and his mate, Ned Dawson, who helped them to hang up the ladders in their usual places. Philpot was glad to get out of a.s.sisting to do this, for he had contracted a rather severe attack of rheumatism when working outside at the 'Cave'. Whilst the others were putting the ladders away he a.s.sisted Bert to carry the paint-pots and buckets into the paint shop, and while there he filled a small medicine bottle he had brought with him for the purpose, with turpentine from the tank. He wanted this stuff to rub into his shoulders and legs, and as he secreted the bottle in the inner pocket of his coat, he muttered: 'This is where we gets some of our own back.'

They took the key of the yard to the office and as they separated to go home Bundy suggested that the best thing they could do would be to sew their b.l.o.o.d.y mouths up for a few months, because there was not much probability of their getting another job until about March.

The next morning while Cra.s.s and Slyme were finis.h.i.+ng inside, Owen wrote the two gates. On the front entrance 'The Cave' and on the back 'Tradesmens Entrance', in gilded letters. In the meantime, Sawkins and Bert made several journeys to the Yard with the hand-cart.

Cra.s.s--working in the kitchen with Slyme--was very silent and thoughtful. Ever since the job was started, every time Mr Sweater had visited the house to see what progress was being made, Cra.s.s had been grovelling to him in the hope of receiving a tip when the work was finished. He had been very careful to act upon any suggestions that Sweater had made from time to time and on several occasions had taken a lot of trouble to get just the right tints of certain colours, making up a number of different shades and combinations, and doing parts of the skirtings or mouldings of rooms in order that Mr Sweater might see exactly--before they went on with it--what it would look like when finished. He made a great pretence of deferring to Sweater's opinion, and a.s.sured him that he did not care how much trouble he took as long as he--Sweater--was pleased. In fact, it was no trouble at all: it was a pleasure. As the work neared completion, Cra.s.s began to speculate upon the probable amount of the donation he would receive as the reward of nine weeks of cringing, fawning, abject servility. He thought it quite possible that he might get a quid: it would not be too much, considering all the trouble he had taken. It was well worth it. At any rate, he felt certain that he was sure to get ten bob; a gentleman like Mr Sweater would never have the cheek to offer less. The more he thought about it the more improbable it appeared that the amount would be less than a quid, and he made up his mind that whatever he got he would take good care that none of the other men knew anything about it.

HE was the one who had had all the worry of the job, and he was the only one ent.i.tled to anything there was to be had. Besides, even if he got a quid, by the time you divided that up amongst a dozen--or even amongst two or three--it would not be worth having.

At about eleven o'clock Mr Sweater arrived and began to walk over the house, followed by Cra.s.s, who carried a pot of paint and a small brush and made believe to be 'touching up' and finis.h.i.+ng off parts of the work. As Sweater went from one room to another Cra.s.s repeatedly placed himself in the way in the hope of being spoken to, but Sweater took no notice of him whatever. Once or twice Cra.s.s's heart began to beat quickly as he furtively watched the great man and saw him thrust his thumb and finger into his waistcoat pocket, but on each occasion Sweater withdrew his hand with nothing in it. After a while, observing that the gentleman was about to depart without having spoken, Cra.s.s determined to break the ice himself.

'It's a little better weather we're 'avin' now, sir.'

'Yes,' replied Sweater.

'I was beginnin' to be afraid as I shouldn't be hable to git heverything finished in time for you to move in before Christmas, sir,'

Cra.s.s continued, 'but it's hall done now, sir.'

Sweater made no reply.

'I've kept the fire agoin' in hall the rooms has you told me, sir,'

resumed Cra.s.s after a pause. 'I think you'll find as the place is nice and dry, sir; the honly places as is a bit damp is the kitchen and scullery and the other rooms in the bas.e.m.e.nt, sir, but of course that's nearly halways the case, sir, when the rooms is partly hunderground, sir.

'But of course it don't matter so much about the bas.e.m.e.nt, sir, because it's honly the servants what 'as to use it, sir, and even down there it'll be hall right hin the summer, sir.'

One would scarcely think, from the contemptuous way in which he spoke of 'servants' that Cra.s.s's own daughter was 'in service', but such was the case.

'Oh, yes, there's no doubt about that,' replied Sweater as he moved towards the door; 'there's no doubt it will be dry enough in the summer. Good morning.'

'Good morning to YOU, sir,' said Cra.s.s, following him. 'I 'opes as you're pleased with all the work, sir; everything satisfactory, sir.'

'Oh, yes. I think it looks very nice; very nice indeed; I'm very pleased with it,' said Sweater affably. 'Good morning.'

'Good morning, sir,' replied the foreman with a sickly smile as Sweater departed.

When the other was gone, Cra.s.s sat down dejectedly on the bottom step of the stairs, overwhelmed with the ruin of his hopes and expectations.

He tried to comfort himself with the reflection that all hope was not lost, because he would have to come to the house again on Monday and Tuesday to fix the venetian blinds; but all the same he could not help thinking that it was only a very faint hope, for he felt that if Sweater had intended giving anything he would have done so today; and it was very improbable that he would see Sweater on Monday or Tuesday at all, for the latter did not usually visit the job in the early part of the week. However, Cra.s.s made up his mind to hope for the best, and, pulling himself together, he presently returned to the kitchen, where he found Slyme and Sawkins waiting for him. He had not mentioned his hopes of a tip to either of them, but they did not need any telling and they were both determined to have their share of whatever he got.

They eyed him keenly as he entered.

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