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"TWO ON THE ROAD"

BY

JOHN MACLEOD

r CHAPTER XII. “Well, I’d like to,” he replied. “I • might have to run up to town before ) Saturday, and I’ll put a bit on him.” - “Oh, leave it to me; I’ll arrange that. I can get much better odds .’ than you’d get, and if you leave it till ' nearer Saturday the price’ll drop. What shall we say? A couple of hundred? I’m backing him pretty heavy myself!” ; Smith gulped. A couple of hundred! . And he said it as though it were the i most casual thing in the world —a mere bagatelle. A speedy answer was necessary, and Smith found himself agreeing to the bet before he realised what he was doing. “Right!” said Emmerson. “I’ll ring up the commission agent this morning. You can fix up for it later.” Good heavens! What a mess! Two hundred pounds in debt and without a penny in the world. If he had known it was coming he might have been prepared for it, but the suddenness of the proposal had left him no time to think. He- followed Mr Emmerson back to the house like a' man in a' dream, trying to force himself to take an intelligent interest 'in the pedigree of Sloth. The spring had gone from his step, the whistle from his lips, indeed, toe entire beauty of the morning had disappeared in a flash. If only he hadn’t been foolish enough to get up early this wouldn’t have happened. He felt himself hoping that in some miraculous manner they would be met by a stable boy with the news that Sloth had dropped dead, or, at least, had broken a leg. Evidently Sloth’s chances of the cup were not to be lost by hoping, for no stable boy met them, and they reached the house with Smith still trying to think of a way out. At the door, they met Lakin coming out. A sensible man; he didn’t rise early. To him, also, Emmerson suggested a flutter. He was just going to ring up the commission agent, and could put the lot on together. Like Smith, Lakin flounded a bit at ’first, but, unlike Smith, he was quite accustomed to finding himself in tight corners, and he very quickly recovered himself. “To tell you the truth, Mr Emmerson,” he said. “I’ve backed Merryboy to beat Sloth. I didn’t think your horse had a chance.” Smith’s jaw dropped, and he stared at Lakin enviously. Now, why the ] devil hadn’t he thought of something like that? So perfectly easy and nat- . ural. “I’ve backed Merryboy to beat ; Sloth!” Smith left the two arguing about the relative performances of the ( horses’ and made his way slowly to his room. 1 Shep was tidying up when he enter- . ed, happy in the thought that he had seen the cook with a plentiful supply ■ of bacon and egs, and secure in the knowledge that he would be called ; upon to dispose of some of it. On the whole, life was very good at the mo- ( ment. Tomorrow they might get kick- 3 ed out, but, at least they would be no worse off than they had been before. ( At the look on Smith’s face, Shep 1 suspended operations, pausing on his ■< way to the wardrobe with a dressing 1 gown. . i

“What’s up?” he demanded. Smith sank down on the side of the bed, dejectedly. ‘l’ve just put two hundred pounds on a horse,” he said, wearily. Shep’s eyes opened wide, and the dressing gown fell to the floor, unheeded. “You’ve—what? ”

t “I’ve just put two hundred pounds . on a horse.” He looked at Shep and shrugged his shoulders hopelessly. “It’s a sure thing—so I’m told. Can’t lose - unless it falls over. Can’t fall over , unless it trips, I suppose,” he added - grimly. Shep stared at him stupidly for a 1 moment; then walked over and stood ' looking down at him. “Where did you get two hundred pounds?” he asked, in an awed voice. “That, of course, is a detail I have not thought of yet. Mr Emmerson’s • putting it on for me. I’ve to fix up for 1 it .later.” “Struth!” Shep sank weakly down on the bed beside Smith. “That’s i done it. You’ve to fix up for it later? and how, my enterprisin* friend, do you intend to fix up for it later?” Smith was fast recovering himself. The very fact of having someone else to worry with did much to restore his natural optimism. An act of any kind my find some justification if another party condemns it. “I don’t know yet, but I’ll probably think of a way out —later.” Shep shook his head slowly. The enormity of the thing was just beginning to sink in. He had never seen two hundred pounds in onfe place, and had a hazy idea that such a pile would also fill the room. “’Taint a valet you need,” he muttered. “It’s a nurse. How about the laws o’ the country now? Ain’t we done somethin’ this time?” Smith rose and pulled himself together. “We’ve overcome all difficulties very well up to the present.” He tried to appear cheerful. I’ll think • the matter out.” “You was right about us,” continued Shep. “We’re extraordinary 1 tramps all right.” : “I’ll be all right; leave it to me. Things are never quite so bad as they J seem. Take the night of the ball, for i instance. Didn’t I see you well fed that J night, even though you were so pessi- > mistic on the matter?” Shep glared at him scornfully. “I’ve forgiven you for that,” he said 1 quietly. “We ought to’ve pawned that there evenin’ suit in the first place.” < He glanced-in the direction of the suit- 1 case. “If that doesn’t cost us five years t of freedom, it’ll surprise me.” < Shep walked slowly to the door, shaking his head. 1 “Oh, Shep!” said Smith. Shep paus- 1 ed. “I might want you to caddy for me ' this morning.” t “Wot do you mean, caddy?” “Carry our golf clubs while we’re ‘ playing —and, maybe, swear for us if necessary.” Shep looked at him in astonishment. Truly, Smith, was a puzzle. “Gee! You’re goin’ golfin’?—and 1 two hundred pounds debt hangin’ over 1 our head? You mean —Oh, p’raps I’d \ better come along, anyway. I’ll know at first hand what your next move is £

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT COPYRIGHT.

then.” When Shep had gone, Smith sat down to think things out. He was by no means as cheerful as he had given Shep to understand. Mr Emmerson would expect a cheque from him some time during the day, and, this being out of the question, something would most certainly have to be done. If only he had though of that excuse of Lakin’s, but he had been taken so completely by surprise that he hadn’t known what to do. He couldn’t put it off, either; there was no reason he could offer for doing so, and, anyhow Emmerson would have it on himself by now. He shook his head hopelessly and went down to breakfast. He tried hard to appear composed and cheerful during the meal, and wondered what these people would think if they knew they were dining with a tramp. He tried to visualise what their various reactions would be. Emmerson and Walford would probably stare at him incredulously. Mrs Walford, being an excitable sort of a lady, would hold up her hands and exclaim, “Good heavens!” Probably smelling salts would be required to bring her around afterwards. Lakin would sneer, and murmur, “I thought so.” Cyril would laught boisterously. “Go on, Smith,” he would say, “tell us another.” Betty, he felt, would clap her hands delightedly. She would enjoy it immensely. Marie would certainly look shocked and hurt, and Miss Lakin would- . No, Miss Lakin beat him. He had no idea how she would take it. Anything might happen with her face. She might either laugh unbelieveingly, or ring up the police.

Smith was glad when the meal was over. He had been sitting next to Mr Walford, who was trying to explain to him why a certain type of fly gave better results on a day like this. As if flies mattered, or fish either, if it came to that. Smith went upstairs to change. He felt he would be much better outside in the fresh air. When he arrived on the lawn, he found the others already there. They were putting balls about, and Cyril was offering to take bets on the result. Bets! Smith winced. He was relieved to find that Marie was taking him up. Lakin was there, but. he was taking no part in the putting. As Smith came up, he moved off' in the direction of the house, sullenly. Your boy friend’s feeling peeved about something,” remarked Betty to Marie. “Evidently,” replied Marie. “He’ll get over it —I hope.” Betty winked at Smith as she linked her arm in Cyril’s and walked on ahead. “I’m afraid I’m the rift in the lute,” said Smith, as he and Marie followed. “Why?” asked Marie. “What have you done?” “Perhaps I’m monopolising too much of your time. Walter certainly does not like me.” “It seems to me,” replied Marie, quietly, “that the number of people Walter likes lately is limited to one, and that one is himself. Well, if that’s his trouble, he’ll get a good deal of it.”

Smith smiled. It would be an easy matter, he knew, to cut out Lakin. He was spoiling himself by his jealousy. “Still,” said Smith, “I don’t know that I could altogether blame him. If I was in his shoes, I’d be insanely jealous of anyone who came near you.” “That’s flattery, isn’t it?” asked Marie, smiling. “On the contrary; it’s gospel truth.” “And that is greater flattery than ever.” Smith felt his troubles slipping away from him as he went along. He forgot all about his two hundred pounds bet until he reached the golf course. Here he was met by Shep, who had gone on in advance, and the reproachful look on Shep’s face brought him quickly back to earth again. He managed to get a word in Shep’s ear before going on the first tee. “If you don’t look cheerful, Shep, I’ll ask Mr Emmerson to scratch the blessed horse. How could one concentrate on golf with a—a frozen faced dude caddying for him?” • “Well, there ain’t nothin’ to laugh at, is there?” demanded Shep. “Have you ever seen golf played?” asked Smith. “No, I ’aven’t.” “Well, you may get plenty to laugh at presently.” “Anyway,” said Shep in perplexity, “wot do I do with all them cues an’ things?” “You carry them, that’s all. And they’re not cues and things; they’re clubs.”

As they walked on to the first tee, Mr Walford passed. He was taking a short cut to the river, and was armed with his fishing rod and basket. He smiled rather pityingly at the golfers. “Got your tape measure?” inquired Smith, smiling. • “A tape measure would take all the romance out of fishing,” was the cheerful reply. “Don’t forget your scoring card. We’ll swop yarns at lunch time. “He’ll want to forget about golf by lunch time,” put in Cyril. “All right,” replied Marie. “Just for that, we won’t let you win a hole. Come on, Mr Smith, let’s teach these young imps a lesson.” In spite of Shep’s dismal face, reminding him of his bet, Smith made a wonderful drive. Cyril watched it sail away for the pin with mixed feelings. It certainly wasn’t Walter he was up against this time. i “Um!” he murmured. "I hope that was a fluke! It was no fluke, however. Smith could play golf, and, for once in their lives, Betty and Cyril received a thorough trouncing, Marie was delighted, and teased them all the way round. The game was over at the fourteenth hole, Marie and Smith having won five up and four. Cyril shook hands with Smith, and congratulated him on the victory. “What about me?” cried Marie. “Don’t I get congratulated, too?” “Why, yes,” grinned Cyril, impishly. “You were in it, too, weren’t you?” “Well, of all the cheek!” “It ought to be a lesson to you to keep better company,” said Betty, slyly, linking her arm in Cyril’s, and walking off towards the house. The excitement of the game over, Smith’s thought again returned to his

bet, and for a time he was silent. Marie noticed his preoccupation, but she attributed it to a different cause. “Still worry about Walter?” she asked. Smith started. He was rather relieved at the suggestion, and took advantage of it. “Well, I hope I haven’t come here to cause any trouble,” he said, quietly. “Please don’t think that. Surely father can invite a guest without consulting Walter. If he objects to my speaking to you, then I’m afraid our engagement is a failure. Anyhow, I’m not letting it upset me.” “It was you I was thinking of, not Walter,” said Smith. “Don’t then. Who knows, it may be a good thing for me.” Things were centainly breaking well for Smith, as far as Marie was concerned, and, if his circumstances had been different, he would have given Lakin a good deal more to worry about. There was no doubt whatever in his mind regarding his feeling for Marie. He loved her, and, loving her. it seemed merely to add to his worries. (To be Continued.)

Permanent link to this item
Hononga pūmau ki tēnei tūemi

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WAITA19381017.2.90

Bibliographic details
Ngā taipitopito pukapuka

Wairarapa Times-Age, 17 October 1938, Page 10

Word count
Tapeke kupu
2,258

"TWO ON THE ROAD" Wairarapa Times-Age, 17 October 1938, Page 10

"TWO ON THE ROAD" Wairarapa Times-Age, 17 October 1938, Page 10

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