the ragged trousered philanthropists-第52章

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ody　well　like；　and　if　you　don't　like　it　you　can　go　to　'ell！'

‘Oh！　　Yer　will；　will　yer？'　said　the　Old　Dear。　　‘We'll　soon　see　about　that。'　　And；　opening　the　door　at　the　back　of　the　bar；　he　roared　out：

‘Alf！'

‘Yes；　sir；'　replied　a　voice；　evidently　from　the　basement。

‘Just　come　up　'ere。'

‘All　right；'　replied　the　voice；　and　footsteps　were　heard　ascending　some　stairs。

‘You'll　see　some　fun　in　a　minute；'　gleefully　remarked　Crass　to　Easton。

The　polyphone　continued　to　play　1The　Boys　of　the　Bulldog　Breed。'

Philpot　crossed　over　to　the　Semi…drunk。　　‘Look　'ere；　old　man；'　he　whispered；　‘take　my　tip　and　go　'ome　quietly。　　You'll　only　git　the　worse　of　it；　you　know。'

‘Not　me；　mate；'　replied　the　other；　shaking　his　head　doggedly。　　‘'Ere　I　am；　and　'ere　I'm　goin'　to　bloody　well　stop。'

‘No；　you　ain't；'　replied　Philpot　coaxingly。　‘'Look　'ere。　I'll　tell　you　wot　we'll　do。　　You　'ave　just　one　more　'arf…pint　along　of　me；　and　then　we'll　both　go　'ome　together。　　I'll　see　you　safe　'ome。'

‘See　me　safe　'ome！　Wotcher　mean？'　indignantly　demanded　the　other。　　'Do　you　think　I'm　drunk　or　wot？'

‘No。　　Certainly　not；'　replied　Philpot；　hastily。　　‘You're　all　right；　as　right　as　I　am　myself。　　But　you　know　wot　I　mean。　　Let's　go　'ome。　　You　don't　want　to　stop　'ere　all　night；　do　you？'

By　this　time　Alf　had　arrived　at　the　door　of　the　back　of　the　bar。　　He　was　a　burly　young　man　about　twenty…two　or　twenty…three　years　of　age。

‘Put　it　outside；'　growled　the　landlord；　indicating　the　culprit。

The　barman　instantly　vaulted　over　the　counter；　and；　having　opened　wide　the　door　leading　into　the　street；　he　turned　to　the　half…drunken　man　and；　jerking　his　thumb　in　the　direction　of　the　door；　said：

‘Are　yer　goin'？'

‘I'm　goin'　to　'ave　'arf　a　pint　along　of　this　genelman　first　…'

‘Yes。　　It's　all　right；'　said　Philpot　to　the　landlord。　　‘Let's　'ave　two　'arf…pints；　and　say　no　more　about　it。'

‘You　mind　your　own　business；'　shouted　the　landlord；　turning　savagely　on　him。　　‘'E'll　get　no　more　'ere！　　I　don't　want　no　drunken　men　in　my　'ouse。　　Who　asked　you　to　interfere？'

‘Now　then！'　exclaimed　the　barman　to　the　cause　of　the　trouble；　‘Outside！'

‘Not　me！'　said　the　Semi…drunk　firmly。　　‘Not　before　I've　'ad　my　'arf　…'

But　before　he　could　conclude；　the　barman　had　clutched　him　by　the　collar；　dragged　him　violently　to　the　door　and　shot　him　into　the　middle　of　the　road；　where　he　fell　in　a　heap　almost　under　the　wheels　of　a　brewer's　dray　that　happened　to　be　passing。　　This　accomplished；　Alf　shut　the　door　and　retired　behind　the　counter　again。

‘Serve　'im　bloody　well　right；'　said　Crass。

‘I　couldn't　'elp　laughin'　when　I　seen　'im　go　flyin'　through　the　bloody　door；'　said　Bundy。

‘You　oughter　'ave　more　sense　than　to　go　interferin'　like　that；'　said　Crass　to　Philpot。　　‘It　was　nothing　to　do　with　you。'

Philpot　made　no　reply。　　He　was　standing　with　his　back　to　the　others；　peeping　out　into　the　street　over　the　top　of　the　window　casing。　　Then　he　opened　the　door　and　went　out　into　the　street。　　Crass　and　the　others　…　through　the　window　…　watched　him　assist　the　Semi…drunk　to　his　feet　and　rub　some　of　the　dirt　off　his　clothes；　and　presently　after　some　argument　they　saw　the　two　go　away　together　arm　in　arm。

Crass　and　the　others　laughed；　and　returned　to　their　half…finished　drinks。

‘Why；　old　Joe　ain't　drunk　'ardly　'arf　of　'is！'　cried　Easton；　seeing　Philpot's　porter　on　the　counter。　　'Fancy　going　away　like　that！'

‘More　fool　'im；'　growled　Crass。　　‘There　was　no　need　for　it：　the　man's　all　right。'

The　Besotted　Wretch　gulped　his　beer　down　as　quickly　as　he　could；　with　his　eyes　fixed　greedily　on　Philpot's　glass。　He　had　just　finished　his　own　and　was　about　to　suggest　that　it　was　a　pity　to　waste　the　porter　when　Philpot　unexpectedly　reappeared。

‘Hullo！　　What　'ave　you　done　with　'im？'　inquired　Crass。

‘I　think　'e'll　be　all　right；'　replied　Philpot。　　‘He　wouldn't　let　me　go　no　further　with　'im：　said　if　I　didn't　go　away；　'e'd　go　for　me！　　But　I　believe　'e'll　be　all　right。　　I　think　the　fall　sobered　'im　a　bit。'

‘Oh；　'e's　all　right；'　said　Crass　offhandedly。　　‘There's　nothing　the　matter　with　'im。'

Philpot　now　drank　his　porter；　and　bidding　‘good　night'　to　the　Old　Dear；　the　landlady　and　the　Besotted　Wretch；　they　all　set　out　for　home。　As　they　went　along　the　dark　and　lonely　thoroughfare　that　led　over　the　hill　to　Windley；　they　heard　from　time　to　time　the　weird　roaring　of　the　wild　animals　in　the　menagerie　that　was　encamped　in　the　adjacent　field。　Just　as　they　reached　a　very　gloomy　and　deserted　part；　they　suddenly　observed　a　dark　object　in　the　middle　of　the　road　some　distance　in　front　of　them。　　It　seemed　to　be　a　large　animal　of　some　kind　and　was　coming　slowly　and　stealthily　towards　them。

They　stopped；　peering　in　a　half…frightened　way　through　the　darkness。　The　animal　continued　to　approach。　　Bundy　stooped　down　to　the　ground；　groping　about　in　search　of　a　stone；　and　…　with　the　exception　of　Crass；　who　was　too　frightened　to　move　…　the　others　followed　his　example。　They　found　several　large　stones　and　stood　waiting　for　the　creature　…　whatever　it　was　…　to　come　a　little　nearer　so　as　to　get　a　fair　shot　at　it。　　They　were　about　to　let　fly　when　the　creature　fell　over　on　its　side　and　moaned　as　if　in　pain。　　Observing　this；　the　four　men　advanced　cautiously　towards　it。　　Bundy　struck　a　match　and　held　it　over　the　prostrate　figure。　　It　was　the　Semi…drunk。

After　parting　from　Philpot；　the　poor　wretch　had　managed　to　walk　all　right　for　some　distance。　　As　Philpot　had　remarked；　the　fall　had　to　some　extent　sobered　him；　but　he　had　not　gone　very　far　before　the　drink　he　had　taken　began　to　affect　him　again　and　he　had　fallen　down。　Finding　it　impossible　to　get　up；　he　began　crawling　along　on　his　hands　and　knees；　unconscious　of　the　fact　that　he　was　travelling　in　the　wrong　direction。　　Even　this　mode　of　progression　failed　him　at　last；　and　he　would　probably　have　been　run　over　if　they　had　not　found　him。　　They　raised　him　up；　and　Philpot；　exhorting　him　to　‘pull　himself　together'　inquired　where　he　lived。　　The　man　had　sense　enough　left　to　be　able　to　tell　them　his　address；　which　was　fortunately　at　Windley；　where　they　all　resided。

Bundy　and　Philpot　took　him　home；　separating　from　Crass　and　Easton　at　the　corner　of　the　street　where　both　the　latter　lived。

Crass　felt　very　full　and　satisfied　with　himself。　He　had　had　six　and　a　half　pints　of　beer；　and　had　listened　to　two　selections　on　the　polyphone　at　a　total　cost　of　one　penny。

Easton　had　but　a　few　yards　to　go　before　reaching　his　own　house　after　parting　from　Crass；　but　he　paused　directly　he　heard　the　latter's　door　close；　and　leaning　against　a　street　lamp　yielded　to　the　feeling　of　giddiness　and　nausea　that　he　had　been　fighting　against　all　the　way　home。　　All　the　inanimate　objects　around　him　seemed　to　be　in　motion。　The　lights　of　the　distant　street　lamps　appeared　to　be　floating　about　the　pavement　and　the　roadway　rose　and　fell　like　the　surface　of　a　troubled　sea。　　He　searched　his　pockets　for　his　handkerchief　and　having　found　it　wiped　his　mouth；　inwardly　congratulating　himself　that　Crass　was　not　there　to　see　him。　　Resuming　his　walk；　after　a　few　minutes　he　reached　his　own　home。　　As　he　passed　through；　the　gate　closed　of　itself　after　him；　clanging　loudly。　　He　went　rather　unsteadily　up　the　narrow　path　that　led　to　his　front　door　and　entered。

The　baby　was　asleep　in　the　cradle。　　Slyme　had　gone　up　to　his　own　room；　and　Ruth　was　sitting　sewing　by　the　fireside。　　The　table　was　still　set　for　two　persons；　for　she　had　not　yet　taken　her　tea。

Easton　lurched　in　noisily。　　‘'Ello；　old　girl！'　he　cried；　throwing　his　dinner　basket　carelessly　on　the　floor　with　an　affectation　of　joviality　and　resting　his　hands　on　the　table　to　support　himself。　　‘I've　come　at　last；　you　see。'

Ruth　left　off　sewing；　and；　letting　her　hands　fall　into　her　lap；　sat　looking　at　him。　　She　had　never　seen　him　like　this　before。　　His　face　was　ghastly　pale；　the　eyes　bloodshot　and　red…rimmed；　the　lips　tremulous　and　moist；　and　the　ends　of　the　hair　of　his　fair　moustache；　stuck　together　with　saliva　and　stained　with　beer；　hung　untidily　round　his　mouth　in　damp　clusters。

Perceiving　that　she　did　not　speak　or　smile；　Easton　concluded　that　she　was　angry　and　became　grave　himself。

‘I've　come　at　last；　you　see；　my　dear；　better　late　than　never。'

He