CHAPTER NINE.
THE PLOT THICKENS.
In his remarkably eager and somewhat eccentric pursuit of pleasure--thatpursuit which is so universal yet so diverse among men, to say nothingabout boys--Tommy Splint used to go about town like a jovial lion-cubseeking whom he might terrify!
To do him justice, Tommy never had any settled intention of beingwicked. His training at the hands of chimney-pot Liz and the gentleSusy had so far affected his arab spirit that he had learned, on thewhole, to prefer what he styled upright to dishonourable mischief. Forinstance, he would not steal, but he had no objection to screen a thiefor laugh at his deeds. His natural tenderness of heart prevented hisbeing cruel to dogs or cats, but it did not prevent his ruffling some ofthe former into furious rage, and terrifying many of the latter intocataleptic fits.
One afternoon, having roved about for some time without aim, sometimeshowling in at open doors and bolting, frequently heaping banter upongood-natured policemen, occasionally asking of mild old ladies the wayto places he had never heard of, or demanding what o'clock it was ofpeople who did not possess watches, and whistling most of the time withirritating intensity--our little hero at last came to the conclusionthat felicity was not to be obtained by such courses--not at least, atthat time. He was out of sorts, somehow, so he would return to thegarden and comfort Susy and the old woman, i.e. find comfort to himselfin their society. He went whistling along, therefore, until his stepswere suddenly and violently arrested.
To account for this we must tell how, about this time, it chanced that avery drunk man of the very lowest London type, as far as appearancewent, awoke from a heavy slumber which he had been enjoying under theseat of a compartment in a certain low gin-palace. He was about tostretch himself and give vent to a noisy yawn when the word "Laidlaw"smote his ear. Pale, worn-out, cadaverous, threadbare, inexpressiblymean, the man gently raised his dissolute form on one elbow and listenedto two men in a box beside him. Their heads met almost over the spotwhere his own head rested. The men were Lockhart and Spivin, and theoccasion was that on which we have already described them as engaged inplotting, or referring to, the downfall of the man from Scotland.
Trumps (for he was the listener), though well practised in the art ofeavesdropping, could not gather the gist of the plotters' discourse.Only this he made out, that, in some way or other, they meant to do, orhad done, mischief to the man who had spared and helped, and, above all,had _trusted him_! It was tantalising to hear so little, though sonear, for, from his position under the seat, he could have grasped MrLockhart's ankles. But the plotters were much too knowing to speak intones that could be easily overheard. Besides, other noisy people werearguing in the neighbouring and opposite compartments, so that theconfusion of tongues rendered them, they thought, safe. Even the manunder the seat although so very near, would have failed to catch thedrift of a single sentence had not the name of Laidlaw sharpened hisears and faculties. One that he did catch, however, was suggestive,viz., "put the 50 pound note in his bag," or something to that effect.
When the two friends rose to depart, Trumps sank noiselessly on theground like a filthy shadow, but the quick eye of the lawyer caughtsight of his leg.
Lockhart started, turned aside, and gave Trumps a kick in the ribs. Itwas a sharp painful kick, but drew from him only a heavy snore. To makequite sure the man of law administered another kick. This caused therecumbent man to growl forth a savage oath which terminated in a snoreso very natural that the lawyer fell into the trap, and went off withthe contemptuous remark--"Dead drunk!"
Trumps, however, was very much the reverse. He was indeed all alive andgreatly sobered by his nap as well as by what he had heard. He rose andfollowed the plotters, but missed them in the crowd outside. In hisanxiety to overtake them he ran somewhat violently against Tommy Splint,and thus arrested him, as we have said, in the pursuit of pleasure.
"Hallo, Thunderbolt!" exclaimed the boy sternly, as he started back anddoubled his fists, "who let _you_ out o' Noogate?"
The thief was about to pass without deigning a reply, when, glancing atthe small questioner, he suddenly stopped and held out his hand.
"I say, Splint, is it _you_ I've run into?"
"Well, it's uncommon like me. Any'ow, not a twin brother, I s'pose itmust be myself. But I hain't got the pleasure o' _your_ acquaintance asI knows on."
"What! Don't you remember Trumps?"
"No, I don't remember Trumps, an', wot's more, I don't b'lieve from thelook of 'im that any of Trumps's family or friends wants to remember'im."
The possibility that the boy might remember Trumps was not so unlikelyafter all, for, being of a highly social disposition, Tommy was prettywell acquainted with, and known to, nearly all the thieves andpickpockets of the locality. Indeed he would certainly have been one ofthemselves but for garret-garden influences.
"Well, Tommy," said the thief confidentially, "I remember _you_, an' Iwants a little conversation with you."
"No, you don't" returned the boy, retreating; "you wants my wipe, orpuss, or ticker, you do--or suthin' o' that sort--but you've come to thewrong shop, you have."
"But really, Tommy, I've got summat to say to 'ee about your noo friendfrom Scotland, David Laidlaw."
"How d'ee know he's _my_ friend?" asked Tommy, becoming suddenlyinterested.
"'Cause I've seen you jawin' with 'im; an' I've seen you go up togetherto visit chimney-pot Liz an' Susy; an'--"
"Oh! you knows chimley-pot Liz an' Susy, do ye? But of course you does.Everybody as knows anythink knows _them_."
"Ay, lad, an' I knows lawyer Lockhart too," said Trumps, with a peculiarlook; "him that owns the 'ouses 'ereabouts, an' draws the rents--"
"_Draws_ the rents!" interrupted the boy, with a look of scorn;"_screws_ the rents, you mean."
"Jus' so, boy--screws 'em. Ah, 'e _is_ a thief, is lawyer Lockhart."
"Come, if that's so, you've no occasion to be 'ard on 'im, Trumps, foryou're in the same boat, you know."
"No, I ain't," replied Trumps, with virtuous indignation, "for 'e's a_mean_ thief!"
"Oh, an' you're a 'ighminded one, I s'pose," returned the boy, with ahearty chuckle; "but come along, young man. If you've suthin' to tellme about Da-a-a-vid Laidlaw I'm your man. This way."
He led the man down the alley, across the court, round the corner, andup the stair to the landing.
"There you are," he said, "this is my snuggery--my boodwar, so to speak.Sot down, an' out with it."
Seated there, the thief, in low confidential and solemn tones, relatedwhat he had seen and heard in the public-house, and told of his ownacquaintance with and interest in Laidlaw.
"The willains!" exclaimed Tommy. "An' wot d'ee think they're agoin' todo?"
"Screw 'im some'ow, an' git 'im out o' the way."
"But w'y?"
"That's wot I wants to ask _you_, lad. I knows nothing more than I'vetold 'ee."
"We must save Da-a-a-vid!" exclaimed Tommy in a tragic manner, clutchinghis hair and glaring.
Tommy's sense of the ludicrous was too strong for him, even in the mostanxious times, and the notion of him and Trumps saving anybodyoverwhelmed him for a moment; nevertheless, he really was excited bywhat he had heard.
"Come--come with me," he cried, suddenly seizing Trumps by the sleeve ofhis shabby coat and half dragging him up to the garret, where he foundold Liz and Susy in the garden on the roof.
"Allow me to introdooce a friend, granny. 'E ain't much to look at, butnever mind, 'e's a good 'un to go."
Old Liz and Susy had become too much accustomed to low life in its worstphases to be much troubled by the appearance of their visitor, and whenhe had explained the object of his visit they became deeply interested.
"You think, then," said Liz, after listening to the whole story, "thatlawyer Lockhart intends to hide a 50 pound note in Mr Laidlaw'stravelling bag, and say he stole it?"
"Yes, ma'am; that's what I think."
"And for what purpos
e?" asked Susy with some anxiety.
"To git him convicted an' sent to prison, miss," replied Trumpspromptly. "I know lawyer Lockhart--we call 'im liar Lockhart in the--well, ahem! an' as I was sayin', 'e's a villain as'll stick at nothing.If 'e sets 'is 'art on gittin' Mr Laidlaw into prison 'e'll git 'im in;for what purpus, of course, _I_ don't know."
After further discussion of the subject it was finally arranged thatTommy Splint should go straight to the house of Mr Spivin, where theScotsman lodged, and reconnoitre.
"And be sure, Tommy," whispered Susan at the head of the stair when hewas about to leave, "that you find out all about this horrid plot. We_must_ save him. He saved _me_, you know," she added, with a blush.
"Yes, we _must_ save 'im," said the boy in a tone of determination thatinspired confidence in the girl, even though it made her laugh.
Trumps accompanied Tommy part of the way, and told him that he knew someugly things about lawyer Lockhart that might get that gentleman intodifficulties if he could only prove them, but he couldn't quite see hisway to that, not being learned enough in the law.
"You see, Tommy--"
"Thomas, if you please," interrupted the urchin with dignity. "Myhintimates calls me Tommy, but you ain't one o' _them_ yet, Mr Trumps.You ain't even on my wisitin' list. P'r'aps I may promote yer to thatsome day, but--it depends. Now, look 'ere, slimey-coat--if any onelarned in the law was inclined to pump you, could you be pumped?"
With a remarkably sly look Trumps replied, "Yes--for a consideration!"
"All right, young man. Give me your card; or, if you hain't got one,let me know w'ere you 'ang hout."
Having been satisfied on this point, Tommy told the thief that he had nofurther use for him, and as he wished to cross London Bridge alone, he(Trumps) was free to make himself scarce.
The Garret and the Garden; Or, Low Life High Up Page 9