The War in the Air Part 5

3

The next morning found the firm of Grubb & Smallways in a state of profound despondency. It seemed a small matter to them that the newspaper and cigarette shop opposite displayed such placards as this:--

--------------------------------------- REPORTED AMERICAN ULTIMATUM.

BRITAIN MUST FIGHT.

OUR INFATUATED WAR OFFICE STILL REFUSES TO LISTEN TO MR. b.u.t.tERIDGE.

GREAT MONO-RAIL DISASTER AT TIMBUCTOO.---------------------------------------

or this:-- --------------------------------------- WAR A QUESTION OF HOURS.

NEW YORK CALM.

EXCITEMENT IN BERLIN.---------------------------------------

or again:-- --------------------------------------- WAs.h.i.+NGTON STILL SILENT.

WHAT WILL PARIS DO?

THE PANIC ON THE BOURSE.

THE KING'S GARDEN PARTY TO THE MASKED TWAREGS.

MR. b.u.t.tERIDGE TAKES AN OFFER.

LATEST BETTING FROM TEHERAN.---------------------------------------

or this:-- --------------------------------------- WILL AMERICA FIGHT?

ANTI-GERMAN RIOT IN BAGDAD.

THE MUNIc.i.p.aL SCANDALS AT DAMASCUS.

MR. b.u.t.tERIDGE'S INVENTION FOR AMERICA.---------------------------------------

Bert stared at these over the card of pump-clips in the pane in the door with unseeing eyes. He wore a blackened flannel s.h.i.+rt, and the jacketless ruins of the holiday suit of yesterday. The boarded-up shop was dark and depressing beyond words, the few scandalous hiring machines had never looked so hopelessly disreputable. He thought of their fellows who were "out," and of the approaching disputations of the afternoon. He thought of their new landlord, and of their old landlord, and of bills and claims. Life presented itself for the first time as a hopeless fight against fate....

"Grubb, o' man," he said, distilling the quintessence, "I'm fair sick of this shop."

"So'm I," said Grubb.

"I'm out of conceit with it. I don't seem to care ever to speak to a customer again."

"There's that trailer," said Grubb, after a pause.

"Blow the trailer!" said Bert. "Anyhow, I didn't leave a deposit on it.

I didn't do that. Still--"

He turned round on his friend. "Look 'ere," he said, "we aren't gettin'

on here. We been losing money hand over fist. We got things tied up in fifty knots."

"What can we do?" said Grubb.

"Clear out. Sell what we can for what it will fetch, and quit. See?

It's no good 'anging on to a losing concern. No sort of good. Jest foolishness."

"That's all right," said Grubb--"that's all right; but it ain't your capital been sunk in it."

"No need for us to sink after our capital," said Bert, ignoring the point.

"I'm not going to be held responsible for that trailer, anyhow. That ain't my affair."

"n.o.body arst you to make it your affair. If you like to stick on here, well and good. I'm quitting. I'll see Bank Holiday through, and then I'm O-R-P-H. See?"

"Leavin' me?"

"Leavin' you. If you must be left."

Grubb looked round the shop. It certainly had become distasteful. Once upon a time it had been bright with hope and new beginnings and stock and the prospect of credit. Now--now it was failure and dust. Very likely the landlord would be round presently to go on with the row about the window.... "Where d'you think of going, Bert?" Grubb asked.

Bert turned round and regarded him. "I thought it out as I was walking 'ome, and in bed. I couldn't sleep a wink."

"What did you think out?"

"Plans."

"What plans?"

"Oh! You're for stickin, here."

"Not if anything better was to offer."

"It's only an ideer," said Bert.

"You made the girls laugh yestiday, that song you sang."

"Seems a long time ago now," said Grubb.

"And old Edna nearly cried--over that bit of mine."

"She got a fly in her eye," said Grubb; "I saw it. But what's this got to do with your plan?"

"No end," said Bert.

"'Ow?"