mrs murphy's respects and Will the doctor come round to number 8 pine
Court to See her baby.
top floor.
Jim often received such rough missives. This, in fact, was rather a
literary performance than otherwise for Pine Court.
He tossed the note back on to the counter, buttoned up his overcoat, and
sallied forth promptly. He left the light burning, and scribbled "Back
soon" on a sheet of paper for Koko's information.
His destination was only seven minutes' walk distant. Not a soul was to
be seen as Jim made his way down the narrow alley by which one reached
the court from the street. If it were possible, this place appeared
even more forlorn than the outer world.
It seemed to Jim, as he passed into No. 8, that the building was
curiously silent. As he ascended to the first floor not a sound fell on
his ears. The house smelt damp, and had an unoccupied air about it.
Could it be that this was the tenement which had been recently condemned
as unfit for habitation, owing to its rottenness? If so, why was Mrs
Murphy installed on the top floor?
Jim knew, however, that it was hard to make some of these wretched
beings go, even out of a house such as this. Mrs Murphy would probably
be evicted in due course. Meanwhile, her baby was ill, and Jim had got
to doctor the little thing.
So dark was it that he had to light matches in order to see his way up
the creaking staircase. And as he ascended to the second floor he was
entirely unconscious of the fact that he was being followed. For behind
him, with cunning stealth, crept a man with a bandaged head.
[Illustration: BEHIND HIM, WITH CUNNING STEALTH, CREPT A MAN WITH A
BANDAGED HEAD.]
As Jim went higher the silence struck him yet more forcibly, and he
began to wonder whether he could have made a mistake about the number.
Still, there was no harm in seeing whether Mrs Murphy _was_ located on
the top floor. So he continued his ascent, the figure behind pursuing
him with noiseless steps.
At last! Here was the top floor, and here was a crazy-looking door.
And still there was absolutely no sign or sound of a living presence in
the place.
He knocked at the door.
"Does Mrs Murphy live here?" he called.
"Yes; come in," replied a woman's voice.
So he turned the handle and pushed the door open.
Instantly he stopped; the room was innocent of any furniture, but
confronting him stood half a dozen roughs, and dimly, in the background,
he could distinguish a woman's form.
_It was a trap_--and safety lay only in immediate flight. He turned
towards the stairs, but, as he did so, the man with the bandaged head
tripped him up, so that Jim fell backwards into the room. One wild
glance he cast upon his assailant, and then the bandaged man, with a
savage snarl, swung his belt. The buckle hit Jim full on the forehead;
there came a great roaring in his ears, and while he was feebly grasping
the air the buckle descended again and finished its work.
*CHAPTER XXVI.*
*THE VULTURES.*
For a moment the Hooligan stood motionless, as if surprised by the ease
with which he had accomplished his revenge. For a moment only, however.
Approaching the prostrate form of the young doctor, he gave Jim a savage
kick in the side. Jim did not move or speak.
"We've got 'im this time, boys," exclaimed the rough. "He's done."
But here there was an unlooked-for interruption. The woman whose voice
had lured Jim to his destruction ran forward and confronted the leader
of the gang.
She was a flower-seller, and had the healthy complexion common to her
open-air calling. A thick mane of black hair hung over her eyes, and
she was ill-kempt and shabby, but she was not wholly without grace of
form or feature.
"You said it was an old gent coming up for rent. You lied. It's the
tall doctor."
The Hooligan glared at her.
"Well,--wot then?"
"If I'd known it was 'im, I'd 'ave warned 'im, that's wot! 'E saved my
baby's life. You shan't touch 'im again."
The Hooligan waved her off without ceremony.
"Shut your silly mouth, will you! It's done now. Get back over there,
or I'll treat you as I've treated 'im."
Appalled by his tone, the woman shrank back to the gloomy corner whence
she had emerged.
The others laughed coarsely. The room was dimly illumined by the light
that came from the lamp-post in the court without, but this was
sufficient to show them that their victim was unconscious, if not dead.
"See wot's on him," said one, a hunchback.
They crowded round the still figure, and commenced a quick search of
Jim's pockets. The bandaged man--not without some wrangling--was
allowed to retain Mortimer's watch and chain; the hunchback greedily
possessed himself of the coins he extracted from Jim's pockets--two
half-sovereigns, some silver, and a few coppers; another of the gang
annexed Jim's cuff-links and studs.
The other four savagely demanded that the money, at least, should be
divided up amongst them, and were assured that they would get their
share. They received this promise with remarks that indicated that
there was little honour among these thieves, and it looked as if a
struggle for the booty were about to ensue, when the hunchback made a
discovery which rendered the other finds insignificant in comparison.
"'Ere's a cheque."
So saying, he struck a match with feverish haste.
"'_Undred pounds_! My Sam! This is a bit o' luck. 'E didn't get this
out o' Mount Street, I'll wager."
"Let's 'ave a squint at it," said the bandaged man. "Ay," he continued,
after examining the pink and white slip, "this is a bit of orl right.
'Undred quid! That'll be nearly fifteen quid apiece."
"A bit o' paper like that ain't no good to us," growled one of the gang;
"'ow can we change it? 'Ooever tries to will be nabbed."
The hunchback interposed. "Don't you make no mistake, Jerry. We can
change it. Gentleman 'Arry 'll do it. 'E can get up just like a
toff--he wasn't a valit six years for nuthink. It ain't crossed, and so
'e can get cash over the counter. 'E's told me that when 'e was in
service 'e often changed cheques for the nobs wot employed 'im."
Thereupon the bandaged man arranged with the hunchback that "Gentleman
'Arry" was to be approached on the subject that night, and promised five
pounds if he changed the cheque first thing in the morning.
"There ain't nuthink else on 'im, is there?" inquired the bandaged man,
when this matter had been settled.
The hunchback went all through Jim's pockets again, but his search only
yielded some keys, a pocket-handkerchief, and a few letters.
"No, nuthink else, mates."
"Then we'll clear."
As they all rose to their feet, the flower-seller again confronted the
leader.
"'Ow about me?" she demanded. "Didn't I get 'im in 'ere? 'E'd 'ave
cottoned something was wrong if 'e 'adn't been answered by a woman."
The Hooligans grinned at each other. The bandaged man had arranged this
matter with the girl; it was no business of the others.
"Oh, you shall 'ave a new 'at, Sally," the bandaged man assured her,
with a leer.
"Wot else?"
"Anyfink yer like, Sally. But I thought you did it out o' friendship
for me, because I was so kind to your 'usband before they nabbed 'im,"
added the Hooligan, with an unpleasant grimace.
"I'll see I get my share," said the girl, showing her white teeth.
"Wot! Would you take the kind doctor's 'ard-earned welf? 'Im wot was
so good to yore byby! For shame, Sally!"
'"E's done for now, and it doesn't matter to 'im. I'll 'ave my share, or
know the reason why."
"You'll split on us?"
"Yes, on the 'ole lot of yer! I don't join in a dirty job like this for
love. I've a baby to keep at 'ome, and I want money, so you watch it!"
The bandaged man winked at his fellows. "That'll be orl right," he said.
"It's on'y 'er wye. Well, let's get out o' this, boys."
As the others moved towards the door the bandaged man and the girl
stayed by Jim's side. As the former gazed upon the prostrate and silent
figure, an evil smile distorted his countenance. "We're quits now," he
muttered, shaking his fist at the white face, "you an' me. You 'urt me,
and now I've 'urt you."
A twinge in the wound which he had come by through Jim's agency made him
wince. He uttered an appalling oath.
"No, we ain't quite quits! I'll spoil your beauty for you, to end with,
my pretty doctor."
He raised his iron-shod heel above Jim's face, but ere the foot could
descend the flower-girl pushed the Hooligan aside with such force that
he reeled against the wall.
"Leave 'im alone--ain't you satisfied?" she exclaimed sharply.
The man recovered himself with another oath, and smacked the girl across
the face with his open hand.
"That's for you, you interferin' cat!"
With a snarl worthy of the creature she had been likened to, the girl
hurled herself at her aggressor, and clawed his face with venomous
finger-nails. In the struggle the Hooligan's bandage came off,
revealing an unhealed wound. Crying out with pain, the rough threw the
girl off with all his might, and, turning quickly, was hacking at Jim's
head and body, when the girl, regaining her balance, flung herself
across the motionless figure on the floor, and there remained while the
Hooligan kicked and struck both at herself and Jim with ungovernable
fury. Time and again he tried to drag her away, but she held staunch to
her post in spite of his blows and execrations.
By this time the Hooligan had worked himself into a state of frenzy.
Seeing that he could not get the girl away, he drew a knife from his
belt, but, even as he poised it to strike, the door was kicked open and
a man appeared.
Then a voice rang out commandingly; George Somers--for Koko it was--had
never spoken so in his life before.
"Drop that knife or I fire."
With the howl of a maddened animal the Hooligan sprang to his feet and
bounded forward. The blade flashed ominously in the lamplight. As it
swept downwards towards Koko's heart, there was a sharp report, followed
by a shriek from the Hooligan, who swayed, clutching at the air, and
then toppled forward in a heap, shot through the brain.
Simultaneously came sounds of heavy footsteps on the stairs. The other
members of the gang made a dash for the doorway, but as they reached it
several stalwart forms barred their exit. The Hooligans, realising
their position, fought like tigers to escape, but the police, having
been forewarned of trouble by old Harris, had their truncheons ready,
and used them without stint. Two of the Hooligans dropped to the floor;
another, a big fellow, closed with one of the constables, and they went
swinging and stumbling into the passage without. Taking his
opportunity, the hunchback crept out on to the dark staircase, and was
softly descending when suddenly two bony hands seized him by the neck,
and next moment he and old Harris were rolling over and over down the
rotten stairs, the Jew dealer hanging on to the half-strangled dwarf
with a nervous grip which the other could not overcome, beat and tear as
he would. Halfway down the stairs the writhing pair were met by another
couple of policemen, by whom the hunchback was quickly secured and
handcuffed.
The reinforcing police speedily settled the matter, and all the
Hooligans were soon in custody.
When at length the police were able to draw breath more easily and look
around, they found Somers kneeling by his friend. By Jim's side lay the
insensible form of the flower-seller who had befriended him with such
strange suddenness.
"Jim, old chap! Jim!" cried Koko. "Jim, speak to me."
No sound came from Jim's lips. He lay as he had fallen, with his white
face upturned to the ceiling. But that face was without a mark, so well
shielded had it been by the woman.
"Here, sir, try this," said one of the police, holding out a
pocket-flask.
Quickly Koko unscrewed the top and forced the mouth of the flask between
his friend's lips. The raw spirit trickled down Jim's throat, and, to
Koko's unspeakable relief, Mortimer opened his eyes.
"Is that--you--old man?"
"Yes, Jim! Here, swallow some more. Oh, Jim," he added, in a trembling
voice, "I'm so glad! I thought--you were dead!"
Jim gave a little sigh. "I think they've done for me. I can't
move--they've hurt my back...."
Koko shivered, for he knew what Jim meant.
"We'll take you to the hospital, old man," he said, "and you'll soon be
all right."
Jim's lips moved in reply, and Koko put down his ear.
"Take me home," said Jim--and fainted away.
*CHAPTER XXVII.*
*THE HOME-COMING.*
On the day preceding that fixed for her wedding, Dora Maybury purposely
went down to breakfast later than usual, as she wished to be alone
during the meal. She did not want to meet the prying eyes of her elder
sister, or answer her still more prying questions.
Miss H. R. Maybury, however, was not easily put off. This was the last
day that the two sisters would be spending under the same roof for some
time to come, and H. R. intended to make the most of it.
When, therefore, Dora reached the breakfast-room, she found her sister
seated behind the coffee-urn.
"It is rather provoking of you to be so late, Dora," said H. R. "We
have had to keep breakfast on the table for an hour, just on your
account."
"You needn't have done that," replied Dora, coldly; "I only want a cup
of tea and some bread and butter."
"You won't look much like a bride to-morrow if you starve yourself
to-day," observed H. R.
Dora made no rejoinder, but took her seat at the table.
"There isn't any tea--won't coffee do?" inquired H. R.
"_Any_thing will do," said Dora, shortly.
"Dear me!" cried H. R. "I hope you will be in a nicer mood when you sit
down to breakfast for the first time with Harold."
"I expect he'll say pleasanter things to me than you do," returned Dora.
H. R. was taken somewhat aback. "Here is some coffee," she said, more
amicably; "there is a plate of bacon and eggs for you in the fender,"
she added.
"I couldn't _touch_ it!" cried Dora.
"I don't see why you should lose your appetite because you're going to
be married to-morrow," said H. R.
"Don't you? Well, perhaps you'll understand my feelings better when you
find _yourself_ on the eve of _your_ wedding day!" snapped Dora.
H. R., having no reply ready, pretended to read the morning paper.