Part 27 (2/2)
”Oh, bleeding h.e.l.l,” he said. The Nephews cl.u.s.tered around.
”We're for it, sort of thing.”
”Second time this year, uncle.”
Boggis glared at the victim.
”Well, how was I to know? I wasn't to know, was I? I mean, look at him, how much would you you expect him to have on him? Couple of coppers, right? I mean, we'd never have done for him, only it was on our way home. You try and do someone a favor, this is what happens.” expect him to have on him? Couple of coppers, right? I mean, we'd never have done for him, only it was on our way home. You try and do someone a favor, this is what happens.”
”How much has he got, then?” said Tomjon.
”There must be a hundred silver dollars in here,” moaned Boggis, waving a purse. ”I mean, that's not my league. That's not my cla.s.s. I can't handle that sort of money. You've got to be in the Guild of Lawyers or something to steal that much. It's way over my quota, is that.”
”Give it back then,” said Tomjon.
”But I done him a receipt!”
”They've all got, you know, numbers on,” explained the younger of the nephews. ”The Guild checks up, sort of...”
Hwel grabbed Tomjon's hand.
”Will you excuse us a moment?” he said to the frantic thief, and dragged Tomjon to the other side of the alley.
”OK,” he said. ”Who's gone mad? Them? Me? You?”
Tomjon explained.
”It's legal?”
”Up to a certain point. Fascinating, isn't it? Man in a pub told me about it, sort of thing.”
”But he's stolen too much too much?”
”So it appears. I gather the Guild is very strict about it.”
There was a groan from the victim hanging between them. He tinkled gently.
”Look after him,” said Tomjon. ”I'll sort this out.”
He went back to the thieves, who were looking very worried.
”My client feels,” he said, ”that the situation could be resolved if you give the money back.”
”Ye-es,” said Boggis, approaching the idea as if it was a brand new theory of cosmic creation. ”But it's the receipt, see, we have to fill it up, time and place, signed and everything...”
”My client feels that possibly you could rob him of, let us say, five copper pieces,” said Tomjon, smoothly.
”-I b.l.o.o.d.y don't!-” shouted the Fool, who was coming around.
”That represents two copper pieces as the going rate, plus expenses of three copper pieces for time, call-out fees-”
”Wear and tear on cosh,” said Boggis.
”Exactly.”
”Very fair. Very fair.” Boggis looked over Tomjon's head at the Fool, who was now completely conscious and very angry. ”Very fair,” he said loudly. ”Statesmanlike. Much obliged, I'm sure.” He looked down at Tomjon. ”And anything for yourself, sir?” he added. ”Just say the word. We've got a special on GBH this season. Practically painless, you'll barely feel a thing.”
”Hardly breaks the skin,” said the older nephew. ”Plus you get choice of limb.”
”I believe I am well served in that area,” said Tomjon smoothly.
”Oh. Well. Right you are then. No problem.”
”Which merely leaves,” continued Tomjon, as the thieves started to walk away, ”the question of legal fees.”
The gentle grayness at the stump of the night flowed across Ankh-Morpork. Tomjon and Hwel sat on either side of the table in their lodgings, counting.
”Three silver dollars and eighteen copper pieces in profit, I make it,” said Tomjon.
”That was amazing,” said the Fool. ”I mean, the way they volunteered to go home and get some more money as well, after you gave them that speech about the rights of man.”
He dabbed some more ointment on his head.
”And the youngest one started to cry,” he added. ”Amazing.”
”It wears off,” said Hwel.
”You're a dwarf, aren't you?”
Hwel didn't feel he could deny this.
”I can tell you're a Fool,” he said.
”Yes. It's the bells, isn't it?” said the Fool wearily, rubbing his ribs.
”Yes, and the bells.” Tomjon grimaced and kicked Hwel under the table.
”Well, I'm very grateful,” said the Fool. He stood up, and winced. ”I'd really like to show my grat.i.tude,” he added. ”Is there a tavern open around here?”
Tomjon joined him at the window, and pointed down the length of the street.
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