Роберт Тресселл – The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists (страница 31)
Meantime, upstairs, Philpot had gone into Newman’s room and was discussing with him the possibility of extracting from Mr Sweater the price of a little light refreshment.
‘I think,’ he remarked, ‘that we oughter see-ise this ‘ere tuneropperty to touch ‘im for an allowance.’
‘We won’t git nothin’ out of
‘That don’t matter. ‘Ow’s ‘e to know that we buys beer with it? We might ‘ave tea, or ginger ale, or lime-juice and glycerine for all ‘e knows!’
Mr Sweater now began ponderously re-ascending the stairs and presently came into the room where Philpot was. The latter greeted him with respectful cordiality:
‘Good morning, sir.’
‘Good morning. You’ve begun painting up here, then.’
‘Yes, sir, we’ve made a start on it,’ replied Philpot, affably.
‘Is this door wet?’ asked Sweater, glancing apprehensively at the sleeve of his coat.
‘Yes, sir,’ answered Philpot, and added, as he looked meaningly at the great man, ‘the paint is wet, sir, but the
‘Confound it!’ exclaimed Sweater, ignoring, or not hearing the latter part of Philpot’s reply. ‘I’ve got some of the beastly stuff on my coat sleeve.’
‘Oh, that’s nothing, sir,’ cried Philpot, secretly delighted. ‘I’ll get that orf for yer in no time. You wait just ‘arf a mo!’
He had a piece of clean rag in his tool bag, and there was a can of turps in the room. Moistening the rag slightly with turps he carefully removed the paint from Sweater’s sleeve.
‘It’s all orf now, sir,’ he remarked, as he rubbed the place with a dry part of the rag. ‘The smell of the turps will go away in about a hour’s time.’
‘Thanks,’ said Sweater.
Philpot looked at him wistfully, but Sweater evidently did not understand, and began looking about the room.
‘I see they’ve put a new piece of skirting here,’ he observed.
‘Yes, sir,’ said Newman, who came into the room just then to get the turps. ‘The old piece was all to bits with dry-rot.’
‘I feel as if I ‘ad a touch of the dry-rot meself, don’t you?’ said Philpot to Newman, who smiled feebly and cast a sidelong glance at Sweater, who did not appear to notice the significance of the remark, but walked out of the room and began climbing up to the next floor, where Harlow and Sawkins were working.
‘Well, there’s a bleeder for yer!’ said Philpot with indignation. ‘After all the trouble I took to clean ‘is coat! Not a bloody stiver! Well, it takes the cake, don’t it?’
‘I told you ‘ow it would be, didn’t I?’ replied Newman.
‘P’raps I didn’t make it plain enough,’ said Philpot, thoughtfully. ‘We must try to get some of our own back somehow, you know.’
Going out on the landing he called softly upstairs:
‘I say, Harlow.’
‘Hallo,’ said that individual, looking over the banisters.
“Ow are yer getting on up there?’
‘Oh, all right, you know.’
‘Pretty dry job, ain’t it?’ Philpot continued, raising his voice a little and winking at Harlow.
‘Yes, it is, rather,’ replied Harlow with a grin.
‘I think this would be a very good time to take up the collection, don’t you?’
‘Yes, it wouldn’t be a bad idear.’
‘Well, I’ll put me cap on the stairs,’ said Philpot, suiting the action to the word. ‘You never knows yer luck. Things is gettin’ a bit serious on this floor, you know; my mate’s fainted away once already!’
Philpot now went back to his room to await developments: but as Sweater made no sign, he returned to the landing and again hailed Harlow.
‘I always reckon a man can work all the better after ‘e’s ‘ad a drink: you can seem to get over more of it, like.’
‘Oh, that’s true enough,’ responded Harlow. ‘I’ve often noticed it meself.’
Sweater came out of the front bedroom and passed into one of the back rooms without any notice of either of the men.
‘I’m afraid it’s a frost, mate,’ Harlow whispered, and Philpot, shaking his head sadly, returned to work; but in a little while he came out again and once more accosted Harlow.
‘I knowed a case once,’ he said in a melancholy tone, ‘where a chap died – of thirst – on a job just like this; and at the inquest the doctor said as ‘arf a pint would ‘a saved ‘im!’
‘It must ‘ave been a norrible death,’ remarked Harlow.
“Orrible ain’t the work for it, mate,’ replied Philpot mournfully. ‘It was something chronic!’
After this final heartrending appeal to Sweater’s humanity they returned to work, satisfied that, whatever the result of their efforts, they had done their best. They had placed the matter fully and fairly before him: nothing more could be said: the issue now rested entirely with him.
But it was all in vain. Sweater either did not or would not understand, and when he came downstairs he took no notice whatever of the cap which Philpot had placed so conspicuously in the centre of the landing floor.
Sweater reached the hall almost at the same moment that Rushton entered by the front door. They greeted each other in a friendly way and after a few remarks concerning the work that was being done, they went into the drawing-room where Owen and Easton were and Rushton said:
‘What about this room? Have you made up your mind what you’re going to have done to it?’
‘Yes,’ replied Sweater; ‘but I’ll tell you about that afterwards. What I’m anxious about is the drains. Have you brought the plans?’
‘Yes.’
‘What’s it going to cost?’
‘Just wait a minute,’ said Rushton, with a slight gesture calling Sweater’s attention to the presence of the two workmen. Sweater understood.
‘You might leave that for a few minutes, will you?’ Rushton continued, addressing Owen and Easton. ‘Go and get on with something else for a little while.’
When they were alone, Rushton closed the door and remarked: ‘It’s always as well not to let these fellows know more than is necessary.’
Sweater agreed.
‘Now this ‘ere drain work is really two separate jobs,’ said Rushton. ‘First, the drains of the house: that is, the part of the work that’s actually on your ground. When that’s done, there will ‘ave to be a pipe carried right along under this private road to the main road to connect the drains of the house with the town main. You follow me?’
‘Perfectly. What’s it going to cost for the lot?’
‘For the drains of the house, £25.0.0. and for the connecting pipe £30.0.0. £55.0.0. for the lot.’
“Urn! That the lowest you can do it for, eh?’
‘That’s the lowest. I’ve figured it out most carefully, the time and materials, and that’s practically all I’m charging you.’
The truth of the matter was that Rushton had had nothing whatever to do with estimating the cost of this work: he had not the necessary knowledge to do so. Hunter had drawn the plans, calculated the cost and prepared the estimate.
‘I’ve been thinking over this business lately,’ said Sweater, looking at Rushton with a cunning leer. I don’t see why I should have to pay for the connecting pipe. The Corporation ought to pay for that. What do you say?’
Rushton laughed, ‘I don’t see why not,’ he replied.
‘I think we could arrange it all right, don’t you?’ Sweater went on. ‘Anyhow, the work will have to be done, so you’d better let ‘em get on with it. £55.0.0. covers both jobs, you say?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh, all right, you get on with it and we’ll see what can be done with the Corporation later on.’
‘I don’t suppose we’ll find ‘em very difficult to deal with,’ said Rushton with a grin, and Sweater smiled agreement.
As they were passing through the hall they met Hunter, who had just arrived. He was rather surprised to see them, as he knew nothing of their appointment. He wished them ‘Good morning’ in an awkward hesitating undertone as if he were doubtful how his greeting would be received. Sweater nodded slightly, but Rushton ignored him altogether and Nimrod passed on looking and feeling like a disreputable cur that had just been kicked.