Chapter 36

CONCERNING A CLEW

"Mrs. Trapes," said Ravenslee, laying aside the book he had been reading and letting his glance wander across smooth lawns and clipped yew hedges, "Mrs. Trapes, what about that stewed shin of beef with carrots and onions you prepared for--our wedding supper?"

"Which," said Mrs. Trapes, glancing up from her everlasting knitting, "which you never stopped to eat."

"Which omission I will now haste to rectify. Mrs. Trapes, pray go and get it ready--I'm ravenous!"

"Good f'r you!" said Mrs. Trapes; "in about half an hour you shall have a nice cup of beef tea to raven at--"

"Confounded slops!" growled Ravenslee.

"Doctor's orders!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, clicking her knitting needles.

"Can't I have something to chew at?"

"Sure. How'll a cracker soaked in milk soot?"

"Cracker!" snarled Ravenslee.

"Doctor's orders!"

Ravenslee muttered and took up his book.

"Helen who, did you say?" enquired Mrs. Trapes, glancing up. "Mr. Geoffrey--I mean Ravenslee, I'm surprised at you--swearin' ain't good for a invalid; your temperature'll be rose if you swear."

"But, my dear Mrs. Trapes, I'm hungry, very hungry--darned hungry!"

"Which is a sign as you're improvin' rapid. Beef tea'll be here soon."

"I won't drink the stuff!"

"Oh, but you will, when Hermy brings it."

"Hermione!" said Ravenslee, his voice grown gentle, and laying down his book again. "Mrs. Trapes, have you noticed any change in her lately?"

"A bit handsomer, p'r'aps--"

"Yes, but I don't mean that; it's something that puzzles me. She seems to have grown more--more reserved and shy--"

"Well, she was married to you before she knew it kind of, almost."

"Do you suppose that's it?"

"Sure! What you got t' do, Mr. Geoffrey, is--woo her! Woo her all you know how. The best woman can't be wooed too hard nor too frequent--so you start in an' woo."

"But sometimes it has almost seemed that she--avoided me."

"Well, don't let her."

"Do you suppose she's grieving for Spike?"

"Well, he ain't exactly a j'y t' her. There he is going straight to the devil along o' that Bud M'Ginnis!"

"I must go and fetch him as soon as I can get about again."

"If he'll come."

"Oh, he'll come," said Ravenslee grimly. "I've decided to send him to college--"

"If he'll go!"

"Oh, he'll go--there's quite a lot of good in him, Mrs. Trapes."

"Only it's mighty hard to find, Mr. Geoffrey! If that b'y wants t' go t' th' devil, to th' devil he'll go. What you got t' do is t' make her forget him--if you can. Oh, drat him, anyway!" and squaring her elbows, Mrs. Trapes knitted so angrily that her knitting needles clashed like weapons fiercely opposed.

"Yes, but suppose she is grieving for him, Mrs. Trapes?"

"Why then," said Mrs. Trapes, "why then--oh, shucks--I guess I'll go an' see after that beef tea."

When she had gone, Ravenslee sat plunged in gloomy thought until roused by the sound of approaching feet with a creak of shoes, a loud, arrogant creak there was no mistaking, and the Old Un appeared followed by Joe and the Spider, the latter looking very smart in his new livery.

"Guv," said the Old Un, "best respex! 'Ere we be, come to say 'ow glad we are t' see you come up smilin' an' ready for more after Fate ketchin' ye a perishin' wallop as we all thought 'ad doubled ye up till the day o' doom. 'Ere you are, on your pins again, an' 'ere 's us come t' give ye greetin's doo an' j'y o' your marriage--shut up, Joe!"

"Why, I wasn't speakin'!" growled Joe.

"No, but you meant to--you're always meanin' to, you are. Guv," continued the Old Un, "folks is allus a-givin' an' takin' in marriage in this 'ere world, such bein' their natur'--they can't 'elp it! But never in this world nor no other was there ever sich a weddin' as yours. There was 'er so young an' fair an' full o' life, an' there was you so pale an' nigh to death--one leg in the grave--an' there was me s' full o' years an' wisdom an' sorrer for ye both--oh, my pore old bowels was fair yearnin' over ye-"

"Lord, Old Un," expostulated Joe, "you keep them bowels o' yours out of it--"

"Shut up, Joe, in your ignorance; bowels is in the Bible, an' bowels I abide by now and forever, amen! Well, there we all were, Guv, bendin' o'er your couch o' care very silent an' solemn,

"'Not a drum was 'eard, not a funereal note'

"an' there was you s' pale an' nigh t' death--"

"You said all that afore, Old Un!" growled Joe.

"You leave me alone, Joe," said the Old Un, scowling and flourishing a trembling fist, "you lemme be, or you'll be pale an' nigh t' death next. Well, there was you, Guv, an' all s' pale an' still when: ''Oo giveth this woman?' says the parson-cove very solemn. 'That's me!' says I, quick an' ready. An' so, me 'avin' 'elped t' marry you, I've brought Joe an' Spider t' wish you 'ealth an' 'appiness an' a j'y continual. Now, Joe, it's your round--speak up!"

"Sir," said Joe heavily, "I--we--I mean--Lord, sir, I am that glad--ah, glad as--as never was--"

"That'll do for you, Joe!" snapped the Old Un. "Spider's round."

Hereupon the Spider lurched forward, hunched his wide shoulders, took off his smart cap, and stared at it very hard.

"Bo," said he, chewing vigorously, "I mean boss--er--no, that ain't right either--this is sure a bum start I'm makin'--"

"Bo' will do, Spider," said Ravenslee, "let it go at that."

"Why then, bo, I ain't one as is ever goin' t' win any gold-mounted testimonials at any talk-fest or heart-throbbin' spiel-act, but what I wanter tell you is this--an' I guess you know I ain't only breathin' out puffs o' hot air--I want yer t' know as I feel about you like--like Joe an' the Old Un does--an' then some more. Y' see, bo, though I ain't never held a straight flush agin four aces an' don't expect to, though I shan't ever be a world's champion like Joe here--I guess I know to-day what it feels like, because you ain't goin' t' snuff it, after all--an' now I guess you're on." Saying which, the Spider dexterously shifted his wad to the other cheek and chewed faster than ever.

"I am, Spider, and I want you to know I'm grateful to you, all three. Also I want to thank you all for keeping this affair out of the papers, though how you managed it beats me."

"Guv," cried the Old Un, tremulous and eager, "oh, Guv, we're fair sleuth-hounds, we are--specially me. There ain't a 'tective nor secret-service cove nor bloomin' bobby fit to black our shoes--specially mine! Y' see, Guv, I know who done it; Joe thinks he knows; an' Spider don't think at all!"

"Oh?" said Ravenslee, and looking around, caught the Spider watching him wide-eyed, his jaws grimly tense and immobile; but meeting his glance, the Spider lowered his eyes, shifted his smartly-gaitered legs, and chewed viciously.

"So, Guv," piped the Old Un cheerily, "we're out for the criminal's gore--specially me. We're goin' to track the perisher to 'is 'orrible doom--

"'Where'er he be
 To th' gallers tree
 Oh, Guv, we mean t' bring him;
 An' laugh with j'y
 When nice an' 'igh
 The blinkin' bobbies swing 'im.'"

"And you think you know who it was?"

"I do, Guv, I do!" nodded the Old Un. "I knows as 'twas a enemy as done it; Joe thinks it was one o' them gang fellers, an' Spider don't say who he thinks done it."

Once again Ravenslee caught the Spider's eye watching him furtively, and once again he noticed that the Spider's jaws were clamped hard, while he was twisting his natty chauffeur's cap in fingers strangely agitated.

"Sir," said Joe, "me an' the Spider searched that wood, an' we found a coat--"

"Shut up, Joe," snarled the Old Un, "you're tellin' it all wrong. Guv, Joe an' the Spider went a-seekin' an' a-searchin' that wood, an' they found a--cloo--"

"Oh?" said Ravenslee.

"A cloo as is a-goin' t' 'ang somebody yet--a cloo, Guv, as ain't t' be ekalled for blood-guilt an' mystery. Joe," said the Old Un, sinking his voice to a hoarse whisper, "the hour is come--perjooce the cloo!"

Hereupon Joe produced a pocketbook and took thence a highly ornate coat button whereto a shred of cloth was attached.

"I found this, sir," said he, "close by where you was a-lyin'." So Ravenslee took the button upon his palm, and, as he eyed it, the Spider saw his black brows twitch suddenly together, then--he yawned.

"And you found this in the wood, Joe?" he enquired sleepily.

"I did, sir. With that to help 'em, the perlice would have the murdering cove in no time, and more than once I've been going to hand it over to 'em. But then I thought I'd better wait a bit; if you died was time enough, an' if you didn't I'd keep it for you--so, sir, there it is."

"You did quite right, Joe. Yes, you did very right indeed!"

For a long moment Ravenslee sat languidly twisting the button in thin white fingers, then flicked it far out over the balustrade down among the dense evergreens in the garden below. The Old Un gasped, Joe gaped, and the Spider sighed audibly.

"Lorgorramighty! Oh, Guv, Guv--" quavered the old man, "you've throwed away our cloo--our blood-cloo--th' p'lice--you've lost our evidence--"

"Old Un, of course I have! You see, I don't like clews, or blood, or the police. You have all been clever enough, wise enough to keep this confounded business quiet, and so will I--"

"But, oh, Guv, arter somebody tryin' t' kill ye like a dog--ain't there goin' t' be no vengeance, no gallers-tree, no 'lectric chair nor nothin'--"

"Nothing!" answered Ravenslee gently. "Somebody tried to kill me, but somebody didn't kill me; here I am, getting stronger every day, so we'll let it go at that."

"Why then--I'm done!" said the Old Un, rising.

"Guv, you're crool an' stony-'carted! 'Ere 's me, a pore old cove as has been dreamin' an' dreamin' o' gallers-trees an' 'lectric chairs, and 'ere 's you been an' took 'em off me! Guv, I'm disapp'inted wi' ye. Oh, ingratitood, thou art the Guv!" So saying, the Old Un clapped on his hat and creaked indignantly away.

"Crumbs!" exclaimed Joe, "what a bloodthirsty old cove he is, with his gallers-trees! This means jam, this does."

"Jam?" repeated Ravenslee wonderingly.

"Sir, whenever the Old Un's put out, 'e flies to jam same as some chaps do to drink; makes a fair old beast of hisself, he do. If you'll excuse us, sir, Spider an' me'll just keep a eye on him to see as he don't go upsettin' his old innards again."

Ravenslee nodded, and smiling, watched them hurry after the little old man; but gradually his amusement waned, and he became lost in frowning thought. So deeply abstracted was he that he started to find Mrs. Trapes regarding him with her sharp, bright eyes.

"Mr. Geoffrey, here's a cup o' beef tea as I've prepared with my own hand--"

"But where's--"

"She's gone t' bed. Here's a cup o' beef tea as is stiff with nourishment, so get it into your system good an' quick."

"Gone to bed--"

"She says it's a headache, o' course--drink it down while it's hot--but I reckon it's more 'n a headache--yes, sir. A while back I says t' you--'woo her,' I says, Mr. Geoffrey. I now says--let her alone awhile. The poor child's all wore out--it's nerves as is the matter with her, I reckon. So, Mr. Ravenslee, be patient, this ain't no wooin' time; it's rest she needs an' change of air--"

"Why, then, Mrs. Trapes, she shall have them!"