"I don't know wot you'd 'ave, Mrs. Furze. If this ere ain't worth the five shillin' yer gave me, nothin' is--that's all I've got to say."

"But, Jim, you must see we cannot do anything unless the proof is complete. Now, if there should happen to be a second instance, that would be a different thing altogether."

"It ain't very comfortable for _me_."

"What do you mean? Mr. Furze sent for you, and you told him what you saw with your own eyes."

"Ah! you'd better mind wot you're sayin', Mrs. Furze, and you needn't put it in that way. Jist you look 'ere: I ain't very particklar myself, I ain't, but it may come to takin' my oath, and, to tell yer the truth, five shillin' don't pay me."

"But we are not going to prosecute."

"No, not now, but you may, and I shall have to stick to it, and maybe have to be brought up. Besides, it was put straight to me by the guvnor and Mr. Tom was there a-lookin' at me right in my face. As I say, five shillin' don't pay me."

"Well, we shall not let the matter drop. We shall keep our eyes open: you may be sure of that, Jim. I dare say you have been worried over the business. Here's another five shillings for you."

Again Jim refrained from thanking her, but slowly put on his cap and left the house.

CHAPTER XVI

Mr. Furze tried several experiments during the next two or three weeks.

It was his custom to look after his shop when Tom went to his meals, and on those rare occasions when he had to go out during Tom's absence, Orkid Jim acted as a subst.i.tute. Whenever Mr. Furze found a sovereign in the till he quietly marked it with his knife or a filet but it was invariably handed over to him in the evening. On a certain Wednesday afternoon, Tom being at his dinner, Mr. Furze was summoned to the Bell by a message from Mr. Eaton, and Jim was ordered to come immediately. He usually went round to the front door. He preferred to walk down the lane from the foundry, and when the back rooms were living rooms, pa.s.sage through them was of course forbidden.

As the summons, however, was urgent, he came the shortest way, and, looking in through the window which let in some borrowed light from the back of the shop to the warehouse behind, he saw Mr. Furze, penknife in hand, at the till. Wondering what he could be doing, Jim watched him for a moment. As soon as Mr. Furze's back was turned he went to the till, took out a sovereign which was in it, closely examined it, discovered a distinct though faint cross at the back of his Majesty George the Third's head, pondered a moment, and then put the coin back again. He looked very abstruse, rubbed his chin, and finally smiled after his fashion.

Tom's shop coat and waistcoat were hung up just inside the counting-house. Jim went to them and turned the waistcoat pockets inside out. To put the sovereign in an empty pocket would be dangerous. Tom would discover it as soon as he returned, and would probably inform Mr.

Furze at once. A similar test for the future would then be impossible.

Jim thought of a better plan, and it was strange that so slow a brain was so quick to conceive it. Along one particular line, however, that brain, otherwise so dull, was even rapid in its movements. It was Mr. Furze's practice to pay wages at half-past five on Sat.u.r.day afternoon, and he paid them himself. He generally went to his tea at six on that day, Tom waiting till he returned. On the following Sat.u.r.day at half-past six Jim came into the shop.

"I met Eaton's man a minute ago as I wur goin' 'ome. He wanted to see the guvnor particklar, he said."

This was partly true, but the "particklar" was not true.

"I told him the guvnor warn't in, but you was there. He said he was goin' to the Bell, but he'd call again if he had time. You'd better go and see wot it is."

Tom took off his black ap.r.o.n and his shop coat and waistcoat, put them up in the usual place, and went out, leaving Jim in charge. Jim instantly went to the till. There were several sovereigns in it, for it had been a busy day. He turned them over, and again recognised the indubitable cross. With a swift prompt.i.tude utterly beyond his ordinary self, he again went to Tom's waistcoat--Tom always put gold in his waistcoat pocket--took out a sovereign of the thirty shillings there, put it in his own pocket, and replaced it by the marked sovereign. Just before the shop closed, the cash was taken to Mr. Furze. He tied it carefully in a bag, carried it home, turned it over, and the sovereign was absent.

Meanwhile Orkid Jim had begun to reflect that the chain of evidence was not complete. He knew Tom's habits perfectly, and one of them was to buy his Sunday's dinner on Sat.u.r.day night. He generally went to a small butcher near his own house. Jim followed him, having previously exchanged his own sovereign for twenty shillings in silver. As soon as Tom had left the butcher's shop Jim walked in. He was well known.

"Mr. b.u.t.terfield, you 'aven't got a sovereign, 'ave you, as you could give me for twenty shillings in silver?"

"Well, that's a rum 'un, Mr. Jim: generally it's t'other way: you want the silver for the gold. Besides, we don't take many sovereigns here--we ain't like people in the High Street."

"Mr. b.u.t.terfield, it's jist this: we've 'ad overwork at the guvnor's, and I'm a-goin' to put a sovereign by safe come next Whitsuntide, when I'm a- goin' to enjoy myself. I don't get much enjoyment, Mr. b.u.t.terfield, but I mean to 'ave it then."

"All right, Mr. Jim. I've only two sovereigns, and there they are.

There's a bran-new one, and there's the other."

"I don't like bran-new nothin's, Mr. b.u.t.terfield. I ain't a Radical, I ain't. Why, I've seed in my time an election last a week, and beer a- runnin' down the gutters. It was the only chance a poor man 'ad. Wot sort of a chance 'as he got now? There's nothin' to be 'ad now unless yer sweat for it: that's Radicalism, that is, and if I 'ad my way I'd upset the b---y Act, and all the lot of 'em. No, thank yer, Mr.

b.u.t.terfield, I'll 'ave the old sovereign; where did he come from now, I wonder."

"Come from? Why, from your shop. Mr. Catchpole has just paid it me. You needn't go a-turnin' of it over and a-smellin' at it, Mr. Jim; it's as good as you are."

"Good! I worn't a-thinking' about that. I wor jist a-looking at the picter of his blessed Majesty King George the Third, and the way he wore his wig. Kewrus, ain't it? Now, somebody's been and scratched 'im jist on the neck. Do yer see that ere cross?"

"You seem awful suspicious, Mr. Jim. Give it me back again. I don't want you to have it."

"Lord! suspicious! Ere's your twenty shillin's, Mr. b.u.t.terfield. I wish I'd a 'undred sovereigns as good as this." And Mr. Jim departed.

Mr. Furze lost no time in communicating his discovery to his wife.

"Furze," she said, "you're a fool: where's the sovereign? You haven't got it, but how are you to prove now that he has got it? We are just where we were before. You ought to have taxed him with it at once, and have had him searched."

Mr. Furze was crestfallen, and made no reply. The next morning at church he was picturing to himself incessantly the dreadful moment when he would have to do something so totally unlike anything he had ever done before.

On the Sunday afternoon Jim appeared at the Terrace, and Phoebe, who was not very well, and was at home, announced that he wished to see Mr.

Furze.

"What can the man want? Tell him I will come down."

"I think," said Mrs. Furze, "Jim had better come up here."

Mr. Furze was surprised, but, as Phoebe was waiting, he said nothing, and Jim came up.

"Beg pardon for interruptin' yer on Sunday arternoon, but I've 'eerd as yer ain't satisfied with Mr. Catchpole, and I thought I'd jist tell yer as soon as I could as yesterday arternoon, while I was mindin' the shop, and he was out, I 'ad to go to the till, and it jist so 'appened, as I was a-givin' change, I was a-lookin' at a George the Third sovereign there, and took particklar notice of it. There was a mark on it. That werry sovereign was changed by Mr. Catchpole at b.u.t.terfield's that night, and 'ere it is. I 'ad to go in there, as I wanted a sovereign for a lot of silver, and he giv it to me."

"Can b.u.t.terfield swear that Catchpole gave it him?" said Mrs. Furze, quite calmly.

"Of course he can, marm; that's jist wot I asked him."

"That will do, Jim; you can go," said Mrs. Furze.

Jim looked at her, loitered, played with his cap, and seemed unwilling to leave.

"I'm comm' up to-morrow mornin', marm, just to 'ave one more look at that biler." He then walked out.

"I suppose I must prosecute now," said Mr. Furze.

"Prosecute! Nothing of the kind. What is your object? It is to get rid of him, and let Catharine see what he is. Suppose you prosecute and break down, where will you be, I should like to know? If you succeed, you won't be a bit better off than you are now. Discharge him. Everybody will know why, and will say how kind and forgiving you are, and Catharine cannot say we have been harsh to him."

Mr. Furze was uneasy. He had a vague feeling that everything was not quite right; but he said nothing, and mutely a.s.sented to his wife's proposals.

"Then I am to give him notice to-morrow?"

"You cannot keep him after what has happened. You must give him a week's wages and let him go."

"Who is to take his place?"