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The Story of Antony Grace Part 37

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"Oh, here you are, then," he cried roughly.

"What, not in bed!" I said.

"In bed? How was I going to bed? I was just orf to the station to send word round as you was missing, and to make inquiries where the vans went from."

"Oh, Mr Revitts! Oh, Bill, I am sorry!" I cried.

"Don't you Bill me, young man," he cried. "Now, lookye here. Was it an accident to the van as made you late?"



"No," I said; "it was--"

"There!" he cried, bringing his fist down heavily upon the table. "I won't hear another word. I won't listen to you. Those vans was doo back at ten thirty--say eleven, and it's now two forty-five."

"Yes, Bill, but--"

"Don't Bill me," he cried; and, running to the corner of the room, he caught up a black silver-topped cane, with shabby silk ta.s.sels. "Look here," he said; "for the last hour or two I've been thinking whether, as your best friend, I oughtn't to give you a good wilting down, only you're such a man now that I can't stoop to hit the feller as I've made my friend."

"But will you listen to me, Bill?" I cried angrily.

"No, I won't," he said, throwing down the cane. "You've been up to your larks, you have, and I tell you what it is, I won't have larks."

"I haven't," I cried.

"You have, sir, so don't deny it. What am I to say to my Mary when she comes up, if she finds you going wrong? I won't have larks, so there's an end of it, d'ye hear? There, you needn't look sulky, and you won't go and lodge somewhere else. You'll stay here and I won't have no larks. I know what it means; I've seen boys begin with stopping out o'

nights, and I know what sort o' chickens they turn out. Stopping out late o' nights an' larks means going to the bad; and you ain't going to the bad if I know it."

"I couldn't help it, Bill; I've been along with Mr Hallett."

"Then I'll punch Mr Hallett's head," he cried in a rage, as he stamped up and down the room, till some one rapped at the ceiling of the floor below. "No, I won't. I'll pay him a visit in full uniform with my bracelet on, that's what I'll do with him."

"Don't be so foolish, Bill," I cried, as in imagination I saw Mr Revitts stalking along amongst the frames at the office, as if about to take Mr Hallett into custody.

"Foolish?" he cried. "And look here, once for all, don't you Bill me.

As for that Hallett, he's a bad 'un, that's what he is, and I'll let him know--carrying on larks with a youngster like you."

"Mr Hallett's a gentleman," I said indignantly.

"Oh, is he?" said Revitts excitedly; "then I'd rather be a pore police-constable. Why, I never so much as took you inside a public to have half-a-pint o' beer, I was so particular over your morals; and your precious gentleman takes you to dozens, and keeps you out till two forty-five. Why, you make the whole room smell o' beer."

"I don't, Bill," I cried; "it's that hay. Look here, it's sticking to my clothes."

"Then, what ha' yer been sleeping under haystacks for, when here was your own bed waiting for you? That's the way. That's the first step to being a rogue and a vagabond. Do you know, young fellow, as I could have taken you and locked you up, and had you afore the magistrates next morning, if I'd found you lying under haystacks?"

"What a dear old stupid you are, Bill," I cried, half angry, half amused; for he had talked so fast and been in such a rage, that I could not get a chance to explain.

"Am I?" he cried, just as if I had added fresh fuel to the flame. "If I am--I'm honest, so now then. That's more than your Mr Hallett can say.

But I haven't done with him yet."

"Why don't you be quiet, Bill?" I said.

"Quiet, when you get out on larks?"

"You won't let me speak."

"Let you speak! No, I won't. Here have I been worried to death about you, thinking all the chaps had got on, and that the van was upset, and all the time it was your games."

"We went strolling about the forest, Bill," I said, as I removed my stockings and bathed my sore feet, "and had to walk ever so much of the way home, and that's what made me so late."

He s.n.a.t.c.hed up my boots from where I had set them, and found that they were covered with dust.

"But you said you'd been sleeping in the hay," he said stubbornly.

"Yes; on the top of a hay-cart, coming up to Whitechapel, and I went to sleep."

Revitts began rubbing his ear in a puzzled way; and then, as if seized by a bright idea, he took out his notebook and pencil.

"Now look here," he said, making believe to take down my words and shaking his pencil at me in a magisterial way. "Why should you have to walk nearly all the way home, because you went for a stroll in the woods with that there Hallett?"

This last with a contemptuous emphasis on the name of my companion.

"Why, I told you, Bill. When we got back to the inn the last van had gone."

"There; now, you're shuffling," he said. "You never said a word about the van being gone."

"Didn't I, Bill? Well, I meant to say so. Mr Hallett thought it would be much nicer to go for a walk in the woods than to sit in that hot room where the men were drinking and smoking, so we did, only we stopped too long."

Revitts shut his pocket-book with a snap, scratched his head with the end of his pencil, wetted the point between his lips, and had another scratch; then pushed the pencil into the loop at the side, replaced the book in his breast, and b.u.t.toned it up tight, as he stood staring hard at me. Then he coughed behind his hand, rubbed his ear again, unb.u.t.toned his coat, b.u.t.toned it up tightly, cleared his throat again, and then said:

"Well, it was circ.u.mstantial evidence, cert'nly."

"It's too bad, Bill," I said, in an injured tone; "you had no business to doubt me."

"More I hadn't, old lad," he replied in a deprecating way. "But you know, Ant'ny, I had been a-sitting here wait-wait-waiting and thinking all sorts o' things."

"Why didn't you go to bed?"

"I'd been thinking, old lad, that being a holiday, you might be hungry, and look here."

He opened the little cupboard and took out a raised pork pie and a bottle of pale ale.

"I'd got the cloth laid and the knives and forks out ready, but I got in such a wax about one o'clock that I s.n.a.t.c.hed 'em all off and cleared 'em away."

"And why did you get in a wax, Bill?" I said. "You ought to have known me better."

"So I ought, old lad," he said penitently; "but I got thinking you'd chucked me over, and was out on larks with that there Hallett; and it ain't nice to be chucked over for a chap like that, specially when you seem to belong to me. You'll shake hands, won't you, Tony?"

"Of course I will."

"And I won't doubt you another time; let's have the pie, after all."

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