Part 28 (1/2)
”Oh, it's you, Mr. Gerard. Yes, he's in. He's been asking for you,” and she told him where to find him.
Nick ascended the stairs, knocked at the door.
”Come in,” said a thick voice.
Nick entered and found Jerry struggling with a sketch.
”I don't feel a bit humorous,” said Jerry.
”You're a pretty specimen,” began Nick.
”Look here, Old Nick, if you've come here to upbraid me I don't want to see you. What I want is ten pounds to see me through.”
Nick laughed.
”I'll let you have it if you promise to keep all right.”
”Snakes alive. You don't suppose I want to be sacked, do you?” exclaimed Jerry.
”I'd be sorry if you were, so would thousands of people. We'd all miss you, Jerry. 'The Sketch' wouldn't be the same paper,” answered Nick.
”That's awfully good of you,” said the repentant Jerry. ”It means a lot to me. I'll not go back on you, Nick, I promise you, and you shall have some good stuff to amuse you next week.”
”That's right, old boy. Buck up. Here's the cash. Have you heard the latest?”
”I haven't been out for days.”
”Barellan's lame; Nicholl told me this morning. I've just met Bellshaw.
He's in a towering rage, cursing everybody, and everything. He can handle some language when he likes. He's a heavyweight at it,” said Nick.
”Bellshaw's a beast,” replied Jerry. ”I'm not sorry for him, but I am for Leigh and Hadwin.”
”So am I, and I told him so,” said Nick.
”What'll happen?” asked Jerry.
”I suppose he'll scratch him if there's no chance of getting him to the post.”
”Lame horses have gone to the post and won a Melbourne Cup,” said Jerry.
”I'd sooner have one with four legs sound.”
”I say, Nick?”
”Yes.”
”What do you fancy?”