A Dog with a Bad Name Part 15

"But, Jonah, dear, it's only suspicion. He may be all right."

"Oh, anything _may_ be," retorted the philosophic Jonah. "The thing is--is it?"

As Mrs Trimble was unable to answer this question, she retired from the discussion, and hoped devoutly nothing was going to happen which would necessitate her doing more work about the school than she at present did.

The unconscious Jeffreys meanwhile was upstairs, was.h.i.+ng himself before starting for his weekly "evening out." He had more than usual before him on this particular evening, as, besides calling at the post-office-- an errand he never missed--he had discovered another old bookshop across the river which kept open till seven o'clock. And after that he had promised Freddy and Teddy, with whom from the first he had kept up a warm friends.h.i.+p, to call up at their house and help them mend their tricycle. With this full programme before him, he lost no time in starting on his travels; little dreaming that the quick pace at which he strode along gave unwonted exercise to Mr Jonah Trimble, who, animated by an amiable curiosity, dogged his footsteps at a respectful distance.

It was about five o'clock when Jeffreys reached the post-office. The clerk knew him by this time, and this evening handed him a letter without being asked. It was a short friendly line from Mr Frampton with no news--at any rate about Forrester; and Trimble, as he watched him emerge from the office, letter in hand, and haggard in face, chalked down in in his own mind a first clue as to the mystery that was exercising him.

From the post-office Jeffreys strolled leisurely down the streets toward the bridge, stopping to look into some of the shops by the way, and occasionally making Trimble's heart jump by looking behind him.

In due time he pulled up at the bookseller's shop. Trimble saw the proprietor welcome his visitor with a nod which bespoke an acquaintance of some standing. He saw Jeffreys turning over the contents of some of the trays, taking up a book now and then and examining it, and sometimes propping himself up against the doorpost and reading page after page.

It was not very entertaining work for the spy; but curiosity is patient, and Jonah as he watched the unconscious reader at a safe distance fortified himself by the conviction that he was watching the working-out of some deep-laid plot.

Presently he saw Jeffreys disappear into the shop, and what was his amazement, when presently he "casually" pa.s.sed the door, to see him seated with the bookseller at a table earnestly poring over and discussing a small faded sheet of paper which lay between them! Trimble would have given worlds to know what the mysterious doc.u.ment was, and what villainy was brewing. Had he known it, he might not have stood out there in the evening air quite as patiently as he did. For the mysterious doc.u.ment happened to be nothing but an old tattered and torn Commonwealth tract which Jeffreys had discovered folded up between the leaves of an ancient volume of poetry, and which he and his friend the bookseller were spending a very agreeable half-hour in piecing together and deciphering.

About seven o'clock Jeffreys rose to go, pocketing the precious relic, which his friend had given him; and Trimble, having carefully noted down the name of the shop and the personal appearance of the suspicious bookseller, followed gingerly back across the bridge. The streets were getting less crowded, and Jonah had increasing difficulty in keeping himself concealed as he crawled along on the opposite side of the way some thirty or forty yards in the rear of his man.

Just as Jeffreys was crossing the s.p.a.ce opposite the grand front of the minster a dog sprang forward to meet him with every token of joy. It was Julius, and Jeffreys knew that the master could not be very far away. He turned round for a moment, as though he meditated flight, and gave Jonah a spasm by the unexpected movement. But before he could decide Mr Halgrove strolled pleasantly round the corner, and nodded to him as if he and his ward had not parted five minutes before.

"Ah, John, fine evening for a stroll. On your way home?"

Mr Halgrove till that moment had not had the faintest idea that his ward was still in York.

"No," said Jeffreys, patting the dog's head and looking very much the reverse of comfortable.

"They say the front of the minster is beginning to crumble at places,"

said Mr Halgrove, looking up at the n.o.ble pile before them; "I hope it's not true. Are you much here?"

"No. I live in another part of the town."

"Very odd my meeting you," said Mr Halgrove. "I was thinking of you only to-day. I had a letter from Mr Frampton."

"Indeed, sir--about Forrester?"

"About--oh, your little victim? Oddly enough, it was not. It was to remind me that your last half-term's fees were not paid. Don't you think it would be judicious to clear up this little score? Looks bad, you know--to run away with score against you."

Jeffrey's face turned pale. He had at least supposed that up to the time of his expulsion from his guardian's house Mr Halgrove would have considered himself responsible for his maintenance.

"I never dreamt," he faltered. "How much is it?"

"Quite a little sum, isn't it? Come, you were last at school. Too bad to pose me with compound division at my time of life. Half a term at 40 a year?"

"Seven pounds!" gasped Jeffreys.

"Not quite, 6 13 s.h.i.+llings, 4 pence. Fancy my being better at mental arithmetic than you!"

"I haven't got any money. I only get a pound a month and my board."

"My dear boy, I congratulate you. Twelve pounds a year! Now, wasn't it a pity you didn't take that 5 note I offered you? Suppose you take it now!"

Mr Halgrove put his hand to his pocket and took out his purse.

"No!" exclaimed Jeffreys, in a tone that made Trimble, who was busy engaged in inspecting the architecture of the minster from behind a deep b.u.t.tress close to the speaker, jump--"I'd sooner die!"

"Don't do that, my dear fellow, don't do that," said Mr Halgrove, with a smile which belied the anger he felt at the refusal; "rather than that I'll keep the money. I have no wish to commit a murder. It's not in my line. That's one point in which you and I differ, isn't it?"

Jeffreys made as though he would spring upon him. What was it checked him? Was it the solemn minster--was it a dread of his guardian's superior strength--was it fear of punishment? Or was it a momentary glimpse of a pale face in a moonlit room far away, which took the spirit out of him and made his arm drop at his side?

"Well, I won't keep you," said Mr Halgrove, who had also for a moment looked uneasy. "I dare say you are in a hurry like myself. The fact is, I am going a trip to America next week and have a good deal to attend to. That makes me doubly glad to have met you. Good-bye, my dear boy, good-bye. Come, Julius."

Julius as he slunk off at his master's heels, and heard the smothered oath which escaped Mr Halgrove's lips as soon as he found himself alone, looked round wistfully and pitifully, and wished he were allowed to go where he pleased.

Jeffreys walked on like a man in a dream. For six months he had been working out what had been to him a penance, hoping to live down his bad name, even if he could never win a good.

But now in a moment it seemed as if the labour of those patient months had been dashed to the ground, and his guardian's bitter words branded themselves on his heart as he paced on out of the shadow of the n.o.ble minster into the dusk of the city.

Trimble, nearly bursting with excitement--for he had overheard all the latter part of the conversation--crept after him. What a time he was having!

Jeffreys bent his steps almost aimlessly out of the city into the country beyond. It was only half-past seven, and Teddy and Freddy were expecting him. He had not the heart to fail them, though he would gladly have remained solitary that evening. The Roshers lived in a small cottage some distance down the lane in which six months ago Jeffreys had first encountered the suns.h.i.+ne of their presence. How long ago it seemed now! Ah! that was the very bank on which he sat; and there beyond was the railway embankment at which the navvies were working, now finished and with the gra.s.s growing up its sides.

Trimble's little heart jumped to his mouth as he saw the man he was following stop abruptly and begin to climb the bank. He was too close behind to be able to turn back. All he could do was to crouch down in the ditch and "lie low." He heard Jeffreys as he gained the top of the bank sigh wearily; then he seemed to be moving as if in search of a particular spot; and then the lurker's hair stood on end as he heard the words, hoa.r.s.ely spoken,--

"It was this very place."

What a day Jonah was having! After a quarter of an hour's pause, during which the patient Jonah got nearly soaked to the skin in his watery hiding-place, Jeffreys roused himself and descended into the lane. Any one less abstracted could not have failed to detect the scared face of the spy s.h.i.+ning out like a white rag from the hedge. But Jeffreys heeded nothing and strode on to Ash Cottage.

Long before he got there, Freddy and Teddy, who had been on the look-out for him for an hour, scampered down to meet him.

"Hurrah, Jeff!" shouted Teddy (I grieve to say that these irreverent brethren had long ago fallen into the scandalous habit of calling their teacher by a familiar contraction of his proper name, nor had the master rebuked them). "Hurrah, Jeff! we were afraid you weren't coming."

"The tricycle won't go," said Freddy; "we've pulled it all to bits, and tried to make it right with a hammer, but it's very bad."

"It's glorious you've come to do it. Isn't Jeff a brick, Teddy?"

"Rather--and, oh, did you bring any oil? We used all ours up."

"We've got a screw-driver, though!" said Freddy.

"And lots of string!" shouted Teddy.

"You _are_ a brick to come and do it," shouted both.

Where in the world is there a tonic equal to the laugh of a light- hearted grateful little boy? How could Jeffreys help forgetting his trouble for a time and devoting himself heart and soul to the business of that tricycle? Trimble, as he dodged along after them perplexed and puffing, could hardly believe his eyes as he saw his morose colleague suddenly throw off the burden that was on him and become gay.

"Come along, little chaps--let's see what we can do," said Jeffreys, as the three strode out to the cottage. "Where is he?"

"In the shed. We've got a candle."