the ragged trousered philanthropists-第30章

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ost　as　soon　as　it　came　and　was　replaced　by　the　dread　that　he　would　not　be　able　to　hold　out　long　enough　to　reach　the　lamp…post；　after　all。　　Clenching　his　teeth；　he　made　a　tremendous　effort　and　staggered　forward　two　or　three　more　steps　and　then　…　the　cart　stopped。　　He　struggled　with　it　despairingly　for　a　few　seconds；　but　all　the　strength　had　suddenly　gone　out　of　him：　his　legs　felt　so　weak　that　he　nearly　collapsed　on　to　the　ground；　and　the　cart　began　to　move　backwards　down　the　hill。　　He　was　just　able　to　stick　to　it　and　guide　it　so　that　it　ran　into　and　rested　against　the　kerb；　and　then　he　stood　holding　it　in　a　half…dazed　way；　very　pale；　saturated　with　perspiration；　and　trembling。　　His　legs　in　particular　shook　so　much　that　he　felt　that　unless　he　could　sit　down　for　a　little；　he　would　FALL　down。

He　lowered　the　handle　very　carefully　so　as　not　to　spill　the　whitewash　out　of　the　pail　which　was　hanging　from　a　hook　under　the　cart；　then；　sitting　down　on　the　kerbstone；　he　leaned　wearily　against　the　wheel。

A　little　way　down　the　road　was　a　church　with　a　clock　in　the　tower。　　It　was　five　minutes　to　ten　by　this　clock。　　Bert　said　to　himself　that　when　it　was　ten　he　would　make　another　start。

Whilst　he　was　resting　he　thought　of　many　things。　　Just　behind　that　church　was　a　field　with　several　ponds　in　it　where　he　used　to　go　with　other　boys　to　catch　effets。　　It　if　were　not　for　the　cart　he　would　go　across　now；　to　see　whether　there　were　any　there　still。　　He　remembered　that　he　had　been　very　eager　to　leave　school　and　go　to　work；　but　they　used　to　be　fine　old　times　after　all。

Then　he　thought　of　the　day　when　his　mother　took　him　to　Mr　Rushton's　office　to　‘bind'　him。　　He　remembered　that　day　very　vividly：　it　was　almost　a　year　ago。　　How　nervous　he　had　been！　　His　hand　had　trembled　so　that　he　was　scarcely　able　to　hold　the　pen。　　And　even　when　it　was　all　over；　they　had　both　felt　very　miserable；　somehow。　　His　mother　had　been　very　nervous　in　the　office　also；　and　when　they　got　home　she　cried　a　lot　and　called　him　her　poor　little　fatherless　boy；　and　said　she　hoped　he　would　be　good　and　try　to　learn。　　And　then　he　cried　as　well；　and　promised　her　that　he　would　do　his　best。　　He　reflected　with　pride　that　he　was　keeping　his　promise　about　being　a　good　boy　and　trying　to　learn：　in　fact；　he　knew　a　great　deal　about　the　trade　already　…　he　could　paint　back　doors　as　well　as　anybody！　and　railings　as　well。　　Owen　had　taught　him　lots　of　things　and　had　promised　to　do　some　patterns　of　graining　for　him　so　that　he　might　practise　copying　them　at　home　in　the　evenings。　　Owen　was　a　fine　chap。　　Bert　resolved　that　he　would　tell　him　what　Crass　had　been　saying　to　Easton。　　Just　fancy；　the　cheek　of　a　rotter　like　Crass；　trying　to　get　Owen　the　sack！　　It　would　be　more　like　it　if　Crass　was　to　be　sacked　himself；　so　that　Owen　could　be　the　foreman。

One　minute　to　ten。

With　a　heavy　heart　Bert　watched　the　clock。　　His　legs　were　still　aching　very　badly。　　He　could　not　see　the　hands　of　the　clock　moving；　but　they　were　creeping　on　all　the　same。　　Now；　the　minute　hand　was　over　the　edge　of　the　number；　and　he　began　to　deliberate　whether　he　might　not　rest　for　another　five　minutes？　　But　he　had　been　such　a　long　time　already　on　his　errand　that　he　dismissed　the　thought。　　The　minute　hand　was　now　upright　and　it　was　time　to　go　on。

Just　as　he　was　about　to　get　up　a　harsh　voice　behind　him　said：

‘How　much　longer　are　you　going　to　sit　there？'

Bert　started　up　guiltily；　and　found　himself　confronted　by　Mr　Rushton；　who　was　regarding　him　with　an　angry　frown；　whilst　close　by　towered　the　colossal　figure　of　the　obese　Sweater；　the　expression　on　his　greasy　countenance　betokening　the　pain　he　experienced　on　beholding　such　as　appalling　example　of　juvenile　depravity。

‘What　do　you　mean　by　sich　conduct？'　demanded　Rushton；　indignantly。　‘The　idear　of　sitting　there　like　that　when　most　likely　the　men　are　waiting　for　them　things？'

Crimson　with　shame　and　confusion；　the　boy　made　no　reply。

‘You've　been　there　a　long　time；'　continued　Rushton；　‘I've　been　watchin'　you　all　the　time　I've　been　comin'　down　the　road。'

Bert　tried　to　speak　to　explain　why　he　had　been　resting；　but　his　mouth　and　his　tongue　had　become　quite　parched　from　terror　and　he　was　unable　to　articulate　a　single　word。

‘You　know；　that's　not　the　way　to　get　on　in　life；　my　boy；'　observed　Sweater　lifting　his　forefinger　and　shaking　his　fat　head　reproachfully。

‘Get　along　with　you　at　once！'　Rushton　said；　roughly。　　‘I'm　surprised　at　yer！　　The　idear！　　Sitting　down　in　my　time！'

This　was　quite　true。　　Rushton　was　not　merely　angry；　but　astonished　at　the　audacity　of　the　boy。　　That　anyone　in　his　employment　should　dare　to　have　the　impertinence　to　sit　down　in　his　time　was　incredible。

The　boy　lifted　the　handle　of　the　cart　and　once　more　began　to　push　it　up　the　hill。　　It　seemed　heavier　now　that　ever；　but　he　managed　to　get　on　somehow。　　He　kept　glancing　back　after　Rushton　and　Sweater；　who　presently　turned　a　corner　and　were　lost　to　view：　then　he　ran　the　cart　to　the　kerb　again　to　have　a　breathe。　　He　couldn't　have　kept　up　much　further　without　a　spell　even　if　they　had　still　been　watching　him；　but　he　didn't　rest　for　more　than　about　half　a　minute　this　time；　because　he　was　afraid　they　might　be　peeping　round　the　corner　at　him。

After　this　he　gave　up　the　lamp…post　system　and　halted　for　a　minute　or　so　at　regular　short　intervals。　　In　this　way；　he　at　length　reached　the　top　of　the　hill；　and　with　a　sigh　of　relief　congratulated　himself　that　the　journey　was　practically　over。

Just　before　he　arrived　at　the　gate　of　the　house；　he　saw　Hunter　sneak　out　and　mount　his　bicycle　and　ride　away。　　Bert　wheeled　his　cart　up　to　the　front　door　and　began　carrying　in　the　things。　　Whilst　thus　engaged　he　noticed　Philpot　peeping　cautiously　over　the　banisters　of　the　staircase；　and　called　out　to　him：

‘Give　us　a　hand　with　this　bucket　of　whitewash；　will　yer；　Joe？'

‘Certainly；　me　son；　with　the　greatest　of　hagony；'　replied　Philpot　as　he　hurried　down　the　stairs。

As　they　were　carrying　it　in　Philpot　winked　at　Bert　and　whispered：

‘Did　yer　see　Pontius　Pilate　anywheres　outside？'

‘'E　went　away　on　'is　bike　just　as　I　come　in　at　the　gate。'

‘Did　'e？　　Thank　Gord　for　that！　　I　don't　wish　'im　no　'arm；'　said　Philpot；　fervently；　‘but　I　'opes　'e　gets　runned　over　with　a　motor。'

In　this　wish　Bert　entirely　concurred；　and　similar　charitable　sentiments　were　expressed　by　all　the　others　as　soon　as　they　heard　that　Misery　was　gone。

Just　before　four　o'clock　that　afternoon　Bert　began　to　load　up　the　truck　with　the　venetian　blinds；　which　had　been　taken　down　some　days　previously。

‘I　wonder　who'll　have　the　job　of　paintin'　'em？'　remarked　Philpot　to　Newman。

‘P'raps's　they'll　take　a　couple　of　us　away　from　ere。'

‘I　shouldn't　think　so。　　We're　short…'anded　'ere　already。　　Most　likely　they'll　put　on　a　couple　of　fresh　'ands。　　There's　a　'ell　of　a　lot　of　work　in　all　them　blinds；　you　know：　I　reckon　they'll　'ave　to　'ave　there　or　four　coats；　the　state　they're　in。'

‘Yes。　　No　doubt　that's　what　will　be　done；'　replied　Newman；　and　added　with　a　mirthless　laugh：

‘I　don't　suppose　they'll　have　much　difficulty　in　getting　a　couple　of　chaps。'

‘No；　you're　right；　mate。　　There's　plenty　of　'em　walkin'　about　as　a　week's　work　would　be　a　Gordsend　to。'

‘Come　to　think　of　it；'　continued　Newman　after　a　pause；　‘I　believe　the　firm　used　to　give　all　their　blind　work　to　old　Latham；　the　venetian　blind　maker。　　Prap's　they'll　give　'im　this　lot　to　do。'

‘Very　likely；'　replied　Philpot；　‘I　should　think　'e　can　do　'em　cheaper　even　than　us　chaps；　and　that's　all　the　firm　cares　about；'

How　far　their　conjectures　were　fulfilled　will　appear　later。

Shortly　after　Bert　was　gone　it　became　so　dark　that　it　was　necessary　to　light　the　candles；　and　Philpot　remarked　that　although　he　hated　working　under　such　conditions；　yet　he　was　always　glad　when　lighting　up　time　came；　because　then　knocking　off　time　was　not　very　far　behind。

About　five　minutes　to　five；　just　as　they　were　all　putting　their　things　away　for　the　night；　Nimrod　suddenly　appeared　in　the　house。　　He　had　come　hoping　to　find　some　of　them　ready　dressed　to　go　home　before　the　proper　time。　　Having　failed　in　this　laudable　enterprise；　he　stood　silently　by　himself　for　some　seconds　in　the　drawing…room。　　This　was　a　spaciou