“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.”
