inside," ses the boy, and the next moment Jack Bates followed 'iminto the room, and then fell back with a start as 'e saw Charlie Tagg.
"Ho, 'ere you are, are you?" he ses, looking at 'im very black."Wot's the matter?" ses Mrs. Cook, very sharp.
"I didn't expect to 'ave the pleasure o' seeing you 'ere, my lad," sesJack, still staring at Charlie, and twisting 'is face up into awfulscowls. "Which is Emma Cook?"
"Miss Cook is my name," ses Emma, very sharp. "Wot d'ye want?"
"Very good," ses Jack Bates, looking at Charlie agin; "then p'r'apsyou'll do me the kindness of telling that lie o' yours agin afore thisyoung lady."
"It's the truth," ses Charlie, looking down at 'is plate.
"If somebody don't tell me wot all this is about in two minutes, I shalldo something desprit," ses Mrs. Cook, getting up.
"This 'ere--er--man," ses Jack Bates, pointing at Charlie, "owes meseventy-five pounds and won't pay. When I ask 'im for it he ses a partyhe's keeping company with, by the name of Emma Cook, 'as got it, and hecan't get it."
"So she has," ses Charlie, without looking up.
"Wot does 'e owe you the money for?" ses Mrs. Cook.
"'Cos I lent it to 'im," ses Jack.
"Lent it? What for?" ses Mrs. Cook.
"'Cos I was a fool, I s'pose," ses jack Bates; "a good-natured fool.Anyway, I'm sick and tired of asking for it, and if I don't get itto-night I'm going to see the police about it."
He sat down on a chair with 'is hat cocked over one eye, and they all satstaring at 'im as though they didn't know wot to say next.
"So this is wot you meant when you said you'd got the chance of alifetime, is it?" ses Mrs. Cook to Charlie. "This is wot you wanted itfor, is it? Wot did you borrow all that money for?"
"Spend," ses Charlie, in a sulky voice.
"Spend!" ses Mrs. Cook, with a scream; "wot in?"
"Drink and cards mostly," ses Jack Bates, remembering wot Charlie 'adtold 'im about blackening 'is character.
You might ha' heard a pin drop a'most, and Charlie sat there withoutsaying a word.
"Charlie's been led away," ses Mrs. Cook, looking 'ard at Jack Bates. "Is'pose you lent 'im the money to win it back from 'im at cards, didn'tyou?"
"And gave 'im too much licker fust," ses old Cook. "I've 'eard of yourkind. If Charlie takes my advice 'e won't pay you a farthing. I shouldlet you do your worst if I was 'im; that's wot I should do. You've got alow face; a nasty, ugly, low face."
"One o' the worst I ever see," ses Mrs. Cook. "It looks as though itmight ha' been cut out o' the Police News."
"'Owever could you ha' trusted a man with a face like that, Charlie?" sesold Cook. "Come away from 'im, Bill; I don't like such a chap in theroom."
Jack Bates began to feel very awk'ard. They was all glaring at 'im asthough they could eat 'im, and he wasn't used to such treatment. And, asa matter o' fact, he'd got a very good-'arted face.
"You go out o' that door," ses old Cook, pointing to it. "Go and do yourworst. You won't get any money 'ere."
"Stop a minute," ses Emma, and afore they could stop 'er she ranupstairs. Mrs. Cook went arter 'er and 'igh words was heard up in thebedroom, but by-and-by Emma came down holding her head very 'igh andlooking at Jack Bates as though he was dirt.
"How am I to know Charlie owes you this money?" she ses.
Jack Bates turned very red, and arter fumbling in 'is pockets took outabout a dozen dirty bits o' paper, which Charlie 'ad given 'im forI O U's. Emma read 'em all, and then she threw a little parcel on thetable.
"There's your money," she ses; "take it and go."
Mrs. Cook and 'er father began to call out, but it was no good.
"There's seventy-two pounds there," ses Emma, who was very pale; "and'ere's a ring you can have to 'elp make up the rest." And she drewCharlie's ring off and throwed it on the table. "I've done with 'im forgood," she ses, with a look at 'er mother.
Jack Bates took up the money and the ring and stood there looking at 'erand trying to think wot to say. He'd always been uncommon partial to thesex, and it did seem 'ard to stand there and take all that on account ofCharlie Tagg.
"I only wanted my own," he ses, at last, shuffling about the floor.
"Well, you've got it," ses Mrs. Cook, "and now you can go."
"You're pi'soning the air of my front parlour," ses old Cook, opening thewinder a little at the top.
"P'r'aps I ain't so bad as you think I am," ses Jack Bates, still lookingat Emma, and with that 'e walked over to Charlie and dumped down themoney on the table in front of 'im. "Take it," he ses, "and don't borrowany more. I make you a free gift of it. P'r'aps my 'art ain't as blackas my face," he ses, turning to Mrs. Cook.
They was all so surprised at fust that they couldn't speak, but old Cooksmiled at 'im and put the winder up agin. And Charlie Tagg sat there arfmad with temper, locking as though 'e could eat Jack Bates without anysalt, as the saying is.
"I--I can't take it," he ses at last, with a stammer.
"Can't take it? Why not?" ses old Cook, staring. "This gentleman 'asgiven it to you." "A free gift," ses Mrs. Cook, smiling at Jackvery sweet.
"I can't take it," ses Charlie, winking at Jack to take the money up andgive it to 'im quiet, as arranged. "I 'ave my pride."
"So 'ave I," ses Jack. "Are you going to take it?"
Charlie gave another look. "No," he ses, "I cant take a favour. Iborrowed the money and I'll pay it back.
"Very good," ses Jack, taking it up. "It's my money, ain't it?"
"Yes," ses Charlie, taking no notice of Mrs. Cook and 'er husband, wotwas both talking to 'im at once, and trying to persuade 'im to alter hismind.
"Then I give it to Miss Emma Cook," ses Jack Bates, putting it into herhands. "Good-night everybody and good luck."
He slammed the front door behind 'im and they 'eard 'im go off down theroad as if 'e was going for fire-engines. Charlie sat there for a momentstruck all of a heap, and then 'e jumped up and dashed arter 'im. Hejust saw 'im disappearing round a corner, and he didn't see 'im agin fora couple o' year arterwards, by which time the Sydney gal had 'ad threeor four young men arter 'im, and Emma, who 'ad changed her name to Smith,was doing one o' the best businesses in the chandlery line in Poplar.
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