GUS' NEW FRIENDS.
GUS saw much of Lucas and his daughter in the days that followed. He
was often invited into their room, and the man showed much interest in
him. Sometimes Lucas would pat Gus on the back, and tell him he was a
smart fellow, and he would make a man of him. Lucy, too, was kind to
him, but she was very sad and quiet. Gus supposed it was being so weak
and lame made her sad.
The boy saw and heard many things when he was with them which made him
wonder. He noticed that though Lucas had no regular employment, he was
never without money. He would speak to the neighbours of the bad times;
but their badness seemed in no way to affect his comfort. His food was
of the best; he had dainties on his table that were to be seen on no
other in Lavender Terrace. He told Gus that he bought them for Lucy's
sake, whose appetite required much tempting; but the fact remained
that he had the power to spend money as none of his neighbours could.
Certainly he had not the fatal weakness which had dragged Gus' father
down into the lowest depths of misery. He never drank to excess. Some
beer with his meals and an occasional glass of spirits was all he took.
But the spirit was of the best quality, as was also the tobacco which
he smoked.
"A gentleman could not have better, Gentleman Gus," he said one day to
the boy, when he was in a merry mood.
"Gentleman Gus indeed!" snarled Jack, with a contemptuous glance at him.
"You hold your tongue!" cried his father. "I tell you he shall be a
gentleman.
"You do as I tell you, my lad," he added, patting Gus on the shoulder,
"and I'll make a gentleman of you."
Gus' colour rose with pleasure. He had no doubt Lucas could help him
to be a gentleman, for the man was in many respects different from the
other men who dwelt at Lavender Terrace.
But Jack scowled more darkly than before, and muttered something the
boy could not understand. Gus was no favourite with him.
A few days later, Lucas invited Gus to come for a tramp with him and
his son. Gus felt honoured by the invitation, and gladly accepted.
They started early in the afternoon. Lucas carried his workman's bag,
so Gus concluded he was going in search of employment. They walked a
long way in a Westerly direction from Glensford, passing through one
suburb of London after another. They did not go to the shops, as Gus
expected.
Lucas seemed more interested in the large handsome houses they
passed—houses standing by themselves in gardens, and in which only rich
people could dwell. The amount of curiosity concerning these which
he displayed was something astonishing. Now he would steal along a
shrubbery to get a nearer view, or swing himself lightly to the top of
a wall. Gus saw with admiration how quick and nimble Lucas and his son
were in their movements. He wished he could climb as well. Even a tall
spiked fence seemed to offer them no obstacle if they wished to get to
the other side. As they went on they talked to each other in a jargon
Gus could not understand, but he could see they were not of one mind,
and that Jack was out of temper with his father.
At last, when the sun was sinking low in the west, and Gus was growing
very weary, Lucas said, as they approached some shops—
"Come, little chap, you're getting tired and hungry, I can see. You go
to that shop and get yourself a glass of milk and a good big bun. Jack
and I'll go on to the next pub, and you can come to us there; but I
know it's no good asking you to take a drink of beer. And you're right,
my little lad. Drink steals a man's brains, and he who muddles his head
with it, can never succeed in business which requires keen wits. Now go
and get your grub, and then come on to us."
As he spoke he handed Gus a bright two-shilling piece, bidding him
bring back the change correctly. Gus thanked him, and ran off.
The woman in charge of the confectioner's shop looked coldly at the
very ragged little boy who came in and asked for a glass of milk and a
bun.
"Can you pay for it?" she demanded.
Gus promptly handed her the two-shilling piece. She looked at it
suspiciously, then threw it on the counter. The sound it made seemed to
confirm her suspicion. She looked at it once more, then gave it back to
Gus.
"That is not good money," she said; "where did you get it?"
"Mr. Lucas gave it to me."
"And who is Mr. Lucas?"
"He's a friend of mine," said Gus; "but what do you mean about the
money?"
"I mean that it's a bad florin; one that never came from the Mint.
There's been a good many of them about lately. I was deceived by one
once, but I shall not be again. Come, if that's all the money you've
got to pay with, you'd best be off."
"I'll tell Mr. Lucas," said Gus, turning away disappointed; "I'm sure
he did not know it was bad money."
"I daresay!" said the woman. "That's a likely story. Where's this Mr.
Lucas that you talk about?"
"He's close by—just a little further along the road," said Gus.
The woman followed him to the door, her looks full of suspicion. It is
so easy to believe the worst of those in whose appearance poverty is
conspicuous. She looked up and down the road, but saw no man.
"You good-for-nothing young scamp!" she cried. "Don't come here with
your false coin and your lies again. Be off with you, quick, or I'll
give you to the police!"
Gus was bewildered. He had not been in the shop more than a minute, he
could not understand how Lucas and his son had got so quickly out of
sight.
"They were going to the public-house," he said.
"There's no public-house just here," said the woman, "and I can tell
you this is not the place for you or your friends—if you have any.
We're honest people here. Come, be off with you, or I'll call a
policeman!"
Gus moved away feeling much disturbed. He could not bear to think
that the woman looked upon him as a cheat, for he had been trained to
strict honesty, and, in spite of what Dick had said, he was convinced
that a gentleman should always act on the square. He walked on in the
direction Lucas and his son had taken, wondering what had become of
them. When he had gone a little distance they suddenly appeared before
him, springing over a fence that skirted some fields.
"Well, boy, have you got my change?" asked Lucas.
Jack burst into a roar of laughter as Gus told his story, ending with
the words, "I told her I was sure you did not know it was bad money."
Lucas laughed too for a moment, but seeing Gus' troubled look, he
checked himself.
"Never mind, lad," he said, "you've done your best. I mean you could
not help it, if the woman would have it, it was bad money."
"Wasn't it?" asked Gus eagerly.
"Of course it wasn't bad money," replied Lucas, laughing; "it was good
money—very good money indeed."
Something in his manner made Gus uneasy. He began to be troubled with
doubts concerning his new friends.
"Didn't I tell you?" cried Jack, turning to his father. "Didn't I tell
you he was too green for anything?"
"Never you mind," returned the other; "he'll be all right by-and-by.
Here, Gus, take this penny; you shall not lose your bun. There's
another shop a little further on, and meanwhile here's our pub."