"His left foot was the lame one," she said, after a thoughtful pause. "I
can see him standing there"--she said it so decidedly that we
involuntarily turned to look, but he was not there, except in her
memory--"and it was his right shoulder that humped up. Yes, I am quite
sure of it."
"This is very curious," said Mr. Sawyer. "I am afraid there is something
wrong. Besides, Scorer never could have done such a thing. He was as
honest as the day."
"And yet he let this cottage sixteen times over to sixteen different
parties, and I have had the privilege, such as it is, of holding the
fort against them all."
"I can't believe William Scorer would do such a thing," he said, looking
at us with eyes full of puzzled suspicion, as though he were not quite
sure whether I had told him all I knew of the matter.
"Joseph," said I.
He tapped his foot impatiently, and we lapsed into silence. An idea
struck me suddenly.
"Is there a Joseph Scorer as well as a William?" I asked.
He looked at me abstractedly.
"There was a brother," he said at last, "and, if I remember rightly, a
twin brother, but I have not heard of him for years. I do not think I
ever saw him. I have an idea he went to the bad." Our eyes met and held
one another, and my thought crossed his.
"What do you suspect, Mr. Oxenham?" he asked.
"I suspect that I met Joseph and you know William," I said.
"But I left William in charge here."
"And I found Joseph."
"Then where is William?"
"William is the missing link. Find him, and we get to the bottom of the
matter."
"Yes, that sounds common sense. Now, where is William?"
That was by no means an easy question to answer. Mr. Joseph Scorer could
probably have told us, but as the discovery of William was but the first
step towards the discovery of Joseph, that fact did not advance us.
The puzzle, however, solved itself in the simplest manner possible, and
without any assistance from us.
As there was a spare bedroom in the cottage, the least we could do was
to put it at Mr. Sawyer's disposal if he cared to make use of it. So we
invited Mr. Sawyer to occupy it for a day or two, and he consented to do
so, and turned out to be a very pleasant and genial companion.
The tide next morning did not serve well for bathing till about an hour
after breakfast. Then Sawyer and I and some of the youngsters went in.
It was one of those absolutely still mornings when the water is as
smooth as oil, and you can hear the beat of the steamers' paddles miles
away, and when you shout it is like shouting inside a bell.
We were all swimming and paddling about, enjoying ourselves immensely,
when I saw the three little fat pugs and the three old ladies coming
along the beach path to take their regular wistful morning look at the
cottage, where they ought to have been living, and were not.
Then from behind the cottage came a great tumult--the noise of many
voices, mingled with groans and laughter, and there swept round the side
of it a mob of people, who came to a stand on the little green plot in
front.
We were still wondering what was the meaning of it, when Amelia Blatt,
our servant, came tearing down the sands towards us, holding on to her
square inch of cap with one hand, and to her flying skirts with the
other.
"They want you up there," she panted.
"Who are they, and what do they want?"
"It's all them folks he let the house to, and they've got 'im----"
And as we made for the shore, Amelia, who was a very modest girl, fled
precipitately up the slope.
"Hey, Milly!" I shouted, "bring us down a couple of those big bath
towels."
[Illustration: "'THEY WANT YOU UP THERE,' SHE PANTED."]
Amelia made no answer, but presently the big bath-towels met us under
the arms of a small boy. We twisted our ordinary towels apron-wise over
our dripping bathing-suits, and draped the big bath-towels gracefully
over our shoulders, and then stalked as majestically as circumstances
permitted towards the noisy crowd, which resolved itself into its
component elements as we drew near.
The outer fringe consisted of excited and irrepressible small boys of
the town, who scampered round and round, shouting and dancing, and
cuffing one another, in sheer enjoyment of living and the knowledge that
something unusual was on foot. Inside them stood a number of the town
loafers, all facing in towards the centre of the ring, and laughing and
making jocular remarks to one another. Closer in still, came an excited
circle of our friends who, like the old ladies, ought to have been
living in the cottage, but were not. The irascible old gentleman was
there, purple in the face and swearing frightfully; the solicitor was
there, with a slightly anticipatory look in his face; the Strong Man was
there, and looked as if he wanted to break something; and closer in than
all these, forming a solid bodyguard of white flannels and laughing
faces and briar pipes, were our young friends from Oxford.
The three little old ladies, with their pugs in their arms, crept round
the revolving outskirts of the crowd, and joined my wife, who stood
wondering in the doorway, and began timidly questioning her as to the
meaning of the uproar.
Mr. Sawyer and I elbowed our way through the crowd, and the bodyguard
opened to let us into the circle.
In the centre stood a little, trembling meek, brown-eyed, crooked man.
"Scorer!" said I, "by all that's wonderful!"
[Illustration: "WE STALKED AS MAJESTICALLY AS OUR CIRCUMSTANCES
PERMITTED TOWARDS THE NOISY CROWD."]
"William!" said Sawyer.
"Jos---! No, by Jove! it is the other leg!"
"Now, William," said Mr. Sawyer, "what is the meaning of all this?"
The crooked little man's eyes brightened when he saw Mr. Sawyer.
"Mr. Sawyer, sir, I know no more than a babe unborn. I come in by the
10.30, and no sooner hadn't my foot touched the ground than these young
gentlemen they gathered round me and began a arskin' what I meant by it,
and then all them others came along. I dunno what's matter wi' em. Seems
to me they're all gone crazy."
"Where's Joseph?"
"Why, ain't he 'ere? I left him 'ere when I went into h--orspital; and
'e said 'e'd keep things all shipshape till I come out."
"Where did you find him? I thought he was away."
"He come to see me just when I were sickening, Mr. Sawyer, sir, and he
promised to keep things all straight and shipshape till I were right
again. So I sent off the wife to her folks--for her trouble--you know,
and then Joe he took me along to the h--orspital, and he said he'd keep
things all--"
"I see," said Mr. Sawyer; "and how's the wife?"
"She's A1, Mr. Sawyer, sir."
"And the baby?"
"He's a reg'lar little ripper, sir, and as straight as a lath."
There was more ingenuous pride packed into those last five words than
any five words ever held before; but the meek brown eyes shone suddenly
moist.
One of the Oxford boys started, "Three cheers for the baby! Hip, hip,
hurrah!--rah!!--rah!!!" And then they fell naturally into "He's a jolly
good fellow!" and yelled it at top of their voices, while they all
joined hands and danced round us till their faces were all on fire, and
all their pipes were out for want of breath to keep them going, and
William Scorer's eyes were like to fall out of his head. They did not
quite understand matters, but they saw there had been some mistake, and
they were all very healthy and very happy. They could not forget Joseph,
but they heartily forgave William for his brother's sins, and they vowed
they would not have missed the fun for three times the amount of
Joseph's little peculations.
"What's it all mean, Mr. Sawyer, sir?" asked the bewildered William.
"It means this, William, that that scamp of a brother of yours has let
this house of mine some sixteen times over to sixteen different people,
and all for about the same date, and that most of them have paid him a
deposit. Hence----" and he waved his hand comprehensively over the
throng.
"Nay,--sure--ly!" said the little man, and it seemed to me that his
stricken wonder was not absolutely untinged with admiration.
There was nothing more to be said or done. Everybody recognised that
fact. Joseph was not to be found, and William was not to blame.
The stout little gentleman vowed he'd be something'd if he'd ever heard
of such a something'd queer business before. The Strong Man looked
regretfully at William, and wished he was Joseph just for five minutes
or so. The solicitor recognised the fact that a case would not lie
against little "Dot-and-carry-one," as he called him, so he put it in
his pipe and smoked it, and by degrees the crowd thinned away, and left
us in peaceable possession. The last to go were the three little old
ladies, and from their manner I should say they were by no means
convinced of the existence of William's brother Joseph.
The Oxford boys, by the way, insisted on chairing little William to the
"Blue Pig," down the Wilborough Road, and tried to induce him to enjoy
himself, but as he declined to touch anything stronger than gingerbeer,
there was no great harm done.
Mr. Sawyer stayed a couple of days with us, and offered us the cottage
free for next August, to make up for the annoyances we had suffered;
and, unless we hear that William Scorer has been taken ill again, and
that his brother Joseph has come to nurse him, we shall accept the
invitation.
[Illustration: "'THREE CHEERS FOR THE BABY! HIP, HIP, HURRAH!'"]
[Illustration: "TWO'S COMPANY."]