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At the tenth round Bill couldn't see out of 'is eyes, and kept wasting 'is strength on the empty air, and once on the referee. Ginger watched 'is opportunity, and at last, with a terrific smash on the point o'
Bill's jaw, knocked 'im down and then looked round for the landlord's knee.
Bill made a game try to get up when "Time!" was called, but couldn't; and the referee, who was 'olding a 'andkerchief to 'is nose, gave the fight to Ginger.
It was the proudest moment o' Ginger d.i.c.k's life. He sat there like a king, smiling 'orribly, and Sam's voice as he paid 'is losings sounded to 'im like music, in spite o' the words the old man see fit to use. It was so 'ard to get Peter Russet's money that it a'most looked as though there was going to be another prize-fight, but 'e paid up at last and went off, arter fust telling Ginger part of wot he thought of 'im.
There was a lot o' quarrelling, but the bets was all settled at last, and the landlord o' the Jolly Pilots, who was in 'igh feather with the money he'd won, gave Ginger the five pounds he'd promised and took him 'ome in a cab.
"You done well, my lad," he ses. "No, don't smile. It looks as though your 'ead's coming off."
"I 'ope you'll tell Miss Tucker 'ow I fought," ses Ginger.
"I will, my lad," ses the landlord; "but you'd better not see 'er for some time, for both your sakes."
"I was thinking of 'aving a day or two in bed," ses Ginger.
"Best thing you can do," ses the landlord; "and mind, don't you ever fight Bill Lumm agin. Keep out of 'is way."
"Why? I beat 'im once, an' I can beat 'im agin," ses Ginger, offended.
"Beat 'im?" ses the landlord. He took 'is cigar out of 'is mouth as though 'e was going to speak, and then put it back agin and looked out of the window.
"Yes, beat 'im," ses Ginger'. "You was there and saw it."
"He lost the fight a-purpose," ses the landlord, whispering. "Miss Tucker found out that you wasn't a prize-fighter-leastways, I did for 'er-and she told Bill that, if 'e loved 'er so much that he'd 'ave 'is sinful pride took down by letting you beat 'im, she'd think diff'rent of 'im. Why, 'e could 'ave settled you in a minute if he'd liked. He was on'y playing with you."
Ginger stared at 'im as if 'e couldn't believe 'is eyes. "Playing?" he ses, feeling 'is face very gently with the tips of his fingers.
"Yes," ses the landlord; "and if he ever hits you agin you'll know I'm speaking the truth."
Ginger sat back all of a heap and tried to think. "Is Miss Tucker going to keep company with 'im agin, then?" he ses, in a faint voice.
"No," ses the landlord; "you can make your mind easy on that point."
"Well, then, if I walk out with 'er I shall 'ave to fight Bill all over agin," ses Ginger.
The landlord turned to 'im and patted 'im on the shoulder. "Don't you take up your troubles afore they come, my lad," he ses, kindly; "and mind and keep wot I've told you dark, for all our sakes."
He put 'im down at the door of 'is lodgings and, arter shaking 'ands with 'im, gave the landlady a s.h.i.+lling and told 'er to get some beefsteak and put on 'is face, and went home. Ginger went straight off to bed, and the way he carried on when the landlady fried the steak afore bringing it up showed 'ow upset he was.
It was over a week afore he felt 'e could risk letting Miss Tucker see 'im, and then at seven o'clock one evening he felt 'e couldn't wait any longer, and arter spending an hour cleaning 'imself he started out for the Jolly Pilots.
He felt so 'appy at the idea o' seeing her agin that 'e forgot all about Bill Lumm, and it gave 'im quite a shock when 'e saw 'im standing outside the Pilots. Bill took his 'ands out of 'is pockets when he saw 'im and came toward 'im.
"It's no good to-night, mate," he ses; and to Ginger's great surprise shook 'ands with 'im.
"No good?" ses Ginger, staring.
"No," ses Bill; "he's in the little back-parlour, like a whelk in 'is sh.e.l.l; but we'll 'ave 'im sooner or later."
"Him? Who?" ses Ginger, more puzzled than ever.
"Who?" ses Bill; "why, Webson, the landlord. You don't mean to tell me you ain't heard about it?"
"Heard wot?" ses Ginger. "I haven't 'card any-thing. I've been indoors with a bad cold all the week."
"Webson and Julia Tucker was married at eleven o'clock yesterday morning," ses Bill Lumm, in a hoa.r.s.e voice. "When I think of the way I've been done, and wot I've suffered, I feel 'arf crazy. He won a 'undered pounds through me, and then got the gal I let myself be disgraced for. I 'ad an idea some time ago that he'd got 'is eye on her."
Ginger d.i.c.k didn't answer 'im a word. He staggered back and braced 'imself up agin the wall for a bit, and arter staring at Bill Lumm in a wild way for pretty near three minutes he crawled back to 'is lodgings and went straight to bed agin.
ODD CHARGES
Seated at his ease in the warm tap-room of the Cauliflower, the stranger had been eating and drinking for some time, apparently unconscious of the presence of the withered ancient who, huddled up in that corner of the settle which was nearer to the fire, fidgeted restlessly with an empty mug and blew with pathetic insistence through a churchwarden pipe which had long been cold. The stranger finished his meal with a sigh of content and then, rising from his chair, crossed over to the settle and, placing his mug on the time-worn table before him, began to fill his pipe.
The old man took a spill from the table and, holding it with trembling fingers to the blaze, gave him a light. The other thanked him, and then, leaning back in his corner of the settle, watched the smoke of his pipe through half-closed eyes, and a.s.sented drowsily to the old man's remarks upon the weather.
"Bad time o' the year for going about," said the latter, "though I s'pose if you can eat and drink as much as you want it don't matter. I s'pose you mightn't be a conjurer from London, sir?"
The traveller shook his head.
"I was 'oping you might be," said the old man. The other manifested no curiosity.
"If you 'ad been," said the old man, with a sigh, "I should ha' asked you to ha' done something useful. Gin'rally speaking, conjurers do things that are no use to anyone; wot I should like to see a conjurer do would be to make this 'ere empty mug full o' beer and this empty pipe full o' s.h.a.g tobacco. That's wot I should ha' made bold to ask you to do if you'd been one."
The traveller sighed, and, taking his short briar pipe from his mouth by the bowl, rapped three times upon the table with it. In a very short time a mug of ale and a paper cylinder of s.h.a.g appeared on the table before the old man.
"Wot put me in mind o' your being a conjurer," said the latter, filling his pipe after a satisfying draught from the mug, "is that you're uncommon like one that come to Claybury some time back and give a performance in this very room where we're now a-sitting. So far as looks go, you might be his brother."
The traveller said that he never had a brother.
We didn't know 'e was a conjurer at fust, said the old man. He 'ad come down for Wickham Fair and, being a day or two before 'and, 'e was going to different villages round about to give performances. He came into the bar 'ere and ordered a mug o' beer, and while 'e was a-drinking of it stood talking about the weather. Then 'e asked Bill Chambers to excuse 'im for taking the liberty, and, putting his 'and to Bill's mug, took out a live frog. Bill was a very partikler man about wot 'e drunk, and I thought he'd ha' had a fit. He went on at Smith, the landlord, something shocking, and at last, for the sake o' peace and quietness, Smith gave 'im another pint to make up for it.
"It must ha' been asleep in the mug," he ses.
Bill said that 'e thought 'e knew who must ha' been asleep, and was just going to take a drink, when the conjurer asked 'im to excuse 'im agin.
Bill put down the mug in a 'urry, and the conjurer put his 'and to the mug and took out a dead mouse. It would ha' been a 'ard thing to say which was the most upset, Bill Chambers or Smith, the landlord, and Bill, who was in a terrible state, asked why it was everything seemed to get into his mug.
"P'r'aps you're fond o' dumb animals, sir," ses the conjurer. "Do you 'appen to notice your coat-pocket is all of a wriggle?"
He put his 'and to Bill's pocket and took out a little green snake; then he put his 'and to Bill's trouser-pocket and took out a frog, while pore Bill's eyes looked as if they was corning out o' their sockets.
"Keep still," ses the conjurer; "there's a lot more to come yet."