The Tale of Timber Town Part 33

"Certainly"; replied Garstang, "in notes. And that's where we'd fall in.

Every number is known, and so soon as we tried to cash the dirty paper, we'd get lagged. Even if we pa.s.sed 'em at pubs, we'd be traced. What we want is gold--nothing but gold. And I'd be surprised if they have a thousand sovereigns in the bank."

"If they have," remarked Dolphin, "you'll get two-fifty. Isn't that good enough?"

"That's it," retorted his troublesome follower, "there's considerable risk about the business, in spite of you fixing all the details so neat and easy. I ask, 'Is it good enough to get about ten years for the sake of 250?'"

"Just what I thought," exclaimed Dolphin. "You're a c.o.c.k-tail. In your old age you've grown white-livered. I guess, Garstang, you'd better retire, and leave those to carry out the work who don't know what fear is."

"That's so," echoed Carnac, drumming the table with his white fingers.

"You don't ketch my meaning," growled Garstang, angry and surly. "What I want is a big haul, and d.a.m.n the risk. There's no white liver about _me_, but I say, 'Let's wait till we've reason to know that the bank's safe is heavily loaded.' I say, 'Wait till we know extra big payments have been made into it.' Let's get all we can for our trouble."

"'Ere, 'ere," said Sweet William. "I'm there. Same sentiment 'ere," and he smote his narrow chest.

"But how are we to find out the bank's business?" asked Dolphin. "Lor'

bless us, if the manager would tip us the wink, we'd be all right."

"Get me took in as extry clerk," suggested William. "Blame me, if I don't apply for the billet to-morrow morning."

"Go on chiacking," said Garstang; "poke borak--it don't hurt _me_. But if you want to do anything in a workmanlike and perfessional manner, listen to advice. Isn't s.h.i.+pments of virgin gold made from the Coast?

Isn't such s.h.i.+pments made public by the newspapers? Very good. When we see a steamer has brought up a pile of gold, where's it put but in the bank? There's our chance. D'you follow? Then we'll be sure to get something for our pains."

"'Ere, 'ere!" cried Sweet William, smacking the now leering Garstang on the back. "Good on you. Maximum return for minimum risk."

Carnac joined in the laugh. "You're not so thick-headed after all," he said to the crooked-faced man.

"Nor 'e ain't so awful white-livered neither," said William.

Dolphin, whose eyes were fixed on the table contemplatively, was silent for a while. When the noise made by the other three had terminated, he said, "Well, have it as you like. But how will the scheme fit in with the steamer business?"

"First rate," answered William. "Where there's gold there'll be a steamer to take it away, won't there?"

"And when the steamer doesn't get its gold at the appointed time,"

replied Dolphin, "the whole town will be roused to hunt for it. That's no game for us. I agree to waiting for gold to be lodged in the bank, but if that does't come off within reasonable time, I'm for taking the chance that's offered. I'm willing to wait a fortnight. How'd that suit you, Garstang?"

"I'm agreeable," said the sour-faced man.

"And in the meanwhile," added the leader, "we don't know one another. If we meet, we don't so much as pa.s.s the time of day. D'you all understand?"

The three answered affirmatively, and Sweet William said, "Don't never any of you chaps come near my shanty. This meetin' stands adjourned _sine die_."

"If there's a notice in the newspaper of gold arriving, that means we meet here at once," said Dolphin, "otherwise we meet this day fortnight.

Is that clear?"

"Yes, that's clear," said Garstang.

"Certainly," said Carnac, "perfectly clear."

"An', please, when you go," said Sweet William, "don't raise the whole neighbourhood, but make a git one by one, and disperse promiscuous, as if you'd never met in your beautiful lives."

The four men were now standing round the table.

"Good night all," said Dolphin, and he went out quietly by the front door.

"Remember what the boss says about the wine," remarked William, when the leader of the gang had gone. "No boozing and giving the show away.

You're to be strictly sober for a fortnight, Garstang. And, Carny, if that girl at The Lucky Digger tries to pump you as to what your lay is, tell 'er you've come to buy a little property and settle down. She'll think you mean marrying."

Carnac smiled. "You might be my grandfather, William," he said.

"Personally, _I'm_ a shearer that's havin' a very mild sort of spree and knockin' down his cheque most careful. You've bin aboard a s.h.i.+p, ain't you, Garstang?"

"D'you suppose I swam out to this blanky country?" said the crooked-featured gentleman.

"Then you're a sailor that's bin paid off and taken your discharge."

Carnac had his hand on the latch of the door through which Dolphin had disappeared.

"No, no; you go out the back way," said William, who conducted the man in the velvet coat into the back yard, and turned him into a paddock full of cabbages, whence he might find his way as best he could to the roadway.

When the youthful William returned, Garstang was smoking; his elbows on the table, and his ugly head resting in his hands.

"You seem bloomin' comfortable, Garstang."

"I'd be a darn sight more comfortabler for a drop of grog, William."

William took a bottle from beneath his bed.

"Just eleven o'clock," said the younger man, looking at his watch. "This house closes punctual. You shall have one nip, mister, and then I chuck you out."

He poured the contents of the bottle into the solitary mug, and added water from a jug with a broken lip. Then the two rogues drank alternately.

"What do you intend to do when you've made your pile, Garstang?"

"Me? I'm goin' back to London and set up in a nice little public, missis, barmaid, and boots, complete, and live a quiet, virtuous life.

That's me. I should prefer somewheres down Woolwich way--I'm very fond of the military."

"I'm goin' to travel," said William. "I'm anxious for to see things and improve me mind. First, I'll go to America--I'm awful soft on the Yanks, and can't help thinkin' that 'Frisco's the place for a chap with talent.

Then I'll work East and see New York, and by-and-by I'll go over to Europe an' call on the princ.i.p.al Crown Heads--not the little 'uns, you understand, like Portugal and Belgium, or fry of that sort: they ain't no cla.s.s--an' then I'll marry a real fine girl, a reg'lar top-notcher with whips of dollars, an' go and live at Monte Carlo. How's that for a programme, eh?"

"Nice and complete. But I rayther expect the Crown 'Eads'd be one too many for _you_. The Czar o' Roos.h.i.+a, f'r instance, I fancy he'd exile you to Siberia."

"But that'd be agin international law an' all rule an' precedent--I'd tell 'im I was a British subject born in Australia, and wrap a Union Jack around me stummick, an' dare 'im to come on. How'd that be for high?"

"You'd be 'igh enough. You'd be 'anded over to th' British authorities--they'd see you went 'igh enough. The experience of men of our perfession is, lie very low, live very quiet, don't attract no attention whatever--when you've succeeded in makin' your pile. That's why I say a public: you've a few select pals, the best of liquor, and just as much excitement as a ordinary man needs. I say that, upon retirement, for men of our perfession a public's the thing."

"How'd a theayter do?"

"Too noisy an' unrestful, William. An' then think of all the wimmen--they'd bother a man silly."