A Drake by George! Part 24

"And here he be, bringing home the was.h.i.+ng," cried Squinting Jack, as George at the moment appeared upon the road with a fantastic white bundle beneath each arm.

"Don't you believe his tale," whispered the Dumpy Philosopher to his friends, as the American started forward to meet George. "He'm going to make that railway across Dartmoor what'll ruin the whole lot of us--and Mr. Drake ha' been and brought 'en here."

CHAPTER XII

A SPLENDID BARGAIN

It was the most awkwardly thrilling moment of George's life, when he found himself confronted by the millionaire before the eyes of the Elder Inhabitants. Because of the couple of ridiculous bundles he could not grasp the hand of Mr. Jenkins; he dared not explain he was carrying the porcelain about with him; so he muttered something about grand weather and unexpected pleasure, then raced homewards with the American ambling at his side.

"Crampy flung me a line telling me about your masterpieces. I beat the sun this morning in an aeroplane invented by a friend; came to turf on Salisbury plain; friend and driver broke rudder and ankle; caught a horse, rode him barebacked to the nearest garage; bought a car, drove it fifty miles; car broke down, sold it second-hand, hired a train, drove here from the station--all so to speak. If I'm not first, I guess I'm a derned good second."

"You needn't have hurried quite so much," gasped George, wis.h.i.+ng he could exaggerate like that.

"I guess, sir, when it comes to business, a man has got to put in his best licks, or some other fellow will pull his foot ahead and spudgel up the goods. Cramp has unloosed his jaw-tackle to the crowd. I'm not particular scared of the Britishers, who look before they leap, and think before they look, and make their wills before they think; but there's quite a few Americans in your London, England, nosing around for something specially ancient to take home. There's Wenceslas Q. Alloway of Milwaukee. Lager-beer he is, or was, for now he's mostly grape juice for conscience' sake; with an elegant white beard and the innocent ways of an archangel--he's got this collecting craze so bad he'd mortgage his immortality, or a thousand years of it, for a bit of old china, though he'd try to stick in a clause to best the devil, for he's a pretty derned orthodox First Baptist on a Sunday. I'm a Second Adventist, and my crowd has just built a church in Philadelphia which for size and shape makes your Westminster Abbey look a bit retrospective."

"Come inside," said George faintly. "I'm afraid I can't offer you much hospitality, as I'm only staying here with my aunt who is not able to receive visitors."

"Don't mention hospitality, sir. Just give me a sight of your vases, and if they're genuine, you'll be giving me a gorge. Wonderful pretty place.

I'd like to s.h.i.+p the whole of this towns.h.i.+p across to America, put up a barbwire fence around, and charge a dollar for admission. Beautiful place to be buried in! Might I inquire if you are carrying anything specially out of date?"

"I've been shopping," replied George.

"Mr. Drake!" called the voice of the postmistress. "A telegram vor ye, sir."

George tore open the envelope and read, "Just heard from Crampy. Fifteen hundred if O.K. Alloway."

"Knew he'd switch on to the main track up to time, but he can't begin to best me. Guess he's exceeding your speed limit right now, and about midnight his automobile will be killing ducks in this neighbourhood,"

said Jenkins complacently.

"I suppose you know something about china?" George suggested, as he ushered the visitor into the dining room.

"My knowledge of porcelain extends from my head to my finger ends. When you show me Chinese vases I'm at home, sir, I'm surrounded with familiar objects, I'm behind the scenes. Crampy knows something, but I can run a saw upon him. When his wells dry up, that's the time, sir, mine begin to flow," said Jenkins, ostentatiously producing a long cheque-book and slapping it upon the table.

"If you will excuse me a moment, I'll go for the vases," said George.

He carried the bundles up to his room, and consulted the list which Crampy had sent him. Having satisfied himself that the names of Jenkins and Alloway appeared upon it, he went downstairs with the undraped vases, thankful his visitor had called at the time of day when Miss Yard and Nellie were shut up together, and Kezia was occupied in the kitchen.

The millionaire stood in the att.i.tude of a clergyman about to receive a child for baptism; and, when George extended one of the vases, he accepted it reverently, then walked to the window, examined it, tapped and stroked it, hugged and adored it, and very nearly kissed it, before turning to exclaim, "These are the goods, Mr. Drake!"

"Yes, they are very fine specimens," replied George casually.

"I don't say they are unique at present, though that's what they will be when I get 'em across to Philadelphia. I guess there's been an empty mantelpiece in the Emperor of China's palace for quite a few years."

George explained the vases had been discovered by his uncle during one of the anti-foreign riots in China many years ago.

"Your uncle was a great lad, sir. He saw his chance to loot the pieces, so he repelled boarders and took 'em. I should call your uncle a public benefactor. He removed these vases from the custody of the uncivilised Chinee, and conferred them upon the cultured world of art. When the potter turned them on his wheel," continued Jenkins, beginning to rhapsodise, "he little thought they were destined, by a far-seeing Providence, to find a home in the United States, the ill.u.s.trious city of Philadelphia, the una.s.suming if somewhat palatial mansion--"

"The postmistress again!" exclaimed George, hurrying to the front door.

"I hadn't hardly got back home, sir, when there come another. I do hope, sir, it ain't bad news again," said the good woman, as she handed over a second telegram.

"It's of no consequence," said George.

"I'm very glad it ain't no worse, sir. I hope, sir, you'm going on well," said Mrs. Cann, trusting that an interpretation of these telegrams might be vouchsafed to her.

George cautiously replied that his lumbago was improving daily; then he returned to the dining room and said, "Here's a telegram from an American named Anderson. He asks me not to deal with any one until he calls, and he offers seventeen hundred."

"I don't know the fellow," said Jenkins suspiciously. "I would advise you to have nothing to do with him. He may be a crook, a man of straw."

"He's all right," said George. "Crampy sent me a list of collectors I could trust, and his name is on it. I suppose Crampy himself is safe, as a firm of lawyers, who are supposed to be respectable, sent him down here."

"Crampy is as genuine as the rising sun. He's valuer to your Court of Probate, he's got a fixed place of business, his name's in the Directory. He's just got to tote fair, but he won't get rich till he grows more brain. I've known Crampy to pay down big money for a fake."

"He made me an offer for these vases," said George.

"I'll double it," cried the millionaire, nestling down to his cheque-book.

"He offered me a thousand pounds."

"Then I'll give you two thousand."

"I might get even more at a sale," George muttered greedily.

"I guess you don't know a great lot about sales," said Jenkins pityingly. "If you put these vases up to auction, collectors and dealers would get together and fix the price beforehand. I'm playing my lone hand in this game, for I'm dead set on getting the ornaments, and I don't mind paying a fancy price for 'em. Crampy won't go beyond a thousand, and even Alloway reckons he's sure of them for fifteen hundred. The other chap offers seventeen hundred it's true, but I have my doubts about him. I didn't mean to bid two thousand, but I've promised to double Crampy's offer, and I'm a man of my word or I'm nothing. Now, sir--you to play!"

"I'll take it," said George.

"Easy way of making money, ain't it?" said the American jauntily. "If you wouldn't mind wrapping some cotton-wool and paper round the things, I'll take 'em right along with me."

"Are you going to offer me a cheque?" George stammered.

"I was going to, but as you don't know a great lot about me, and perhaps you don't feel like relying on Crampy's introduction, and as I must take the pieces right away with me, I'll just hand over the stuff in notes upon your Bank of England which, so far as I know, hasn't put its shutters up," said the millionaire, producing a mighty pocketbook. "Here you are, sir--four five-hundreds, and may they breed you a bonanza.

Kindly hand me a form of receipt; and if at any time within the next forty-eight hours the vases should be discovered forgeries, I am at liberty to return them, while you will hand back the money. At the expiration of the forty-eight hours the deal is closed absolutely and, if the things are fakes, I come out spindigo. Don't be ashamed of your suspicions, and don't consider my feelings. Hold up the notes to the light and take a look at the watermark."

"That's just what I was doing," said George feebly.

A few minutes later the millionaire departed, George walking with him to the inn where his conveyance waited. Here also wise men were discussing the state of decadence towards which the parish was being hurried by moral failures like the Brocks and such a despicable plotter as the formerly respected Mr. Drake, who was undoubtedly scheming to construct that Dartmoor railway by means of American dollars. Mr. Jenkins was seen to drive away by the Gentle Shepherd, who reported the gratifying intelligence to headquarters, and a hearty sigh of relief went up while a quant.i.ty of inferior beer went down. Yet n.o.body sighed so deeply or so joyously as George as he hurried home a man of means at last.

Rapture lost half its charm because there was n.o.body with whom it could be shared; for Nellie, he found, had retired with a headache, while Bessie, upon sentry duty near the bedroom door, repelled the advance of Miss Yard who was in tears because they would not let her in to see the poor girl's body.

"I knew she would go like that. I told her she had a heart, because she was such a good girl, and they always go suddenly. I do hope you won't be the next, George. Of course you know poor Percy is gone," she wailed.

"You were very good in your young days," said George gallantly, "but you are still alive. There's nothing much the matter with Percy, except that he's going to get married."