by W. W. Jacobs
Produced by David Widger
DEEP WATERS
By W.W. JACOBS
SHAREHOLDERS
Sailor man--said the night-watchman, musingly--a sailorman is like a fishhe is safest when 'e is at sea. When a fish comes ashore it is in fortrouble, and so is sailorman. One poor chap I knew 'ardly ever cameashore without getting married; and he was found out there was no lessthan six wimmen in the court all taking away 'is character at once. Andwhen he spoke up Solomon the magistrate pretty near bit 'is 'ead off.
Then look at the trouble they get in with their money! They come ashorefrom a long trip, smelling of it a'most, and they go from port to portlike a lord. Everybody has got their eye on that money--everybody exceptthe sailorman, that is--and afore he knows wot's 'appened, and who 'asgot it, he's looking for a ship agin. When he ain't robbed of 'is money,he wastes it; and when 'e don't do either, he loses it.
I knew one chap who hid 'is money. He'd been away ten months, and,knowing 'ow easy money goes, 'e made up sixteen pounds in a nice littleparcel and hid it where nobody could find it. That's wot he said, andp'r'aps 'e was right. All I know is, he never found it. I did the samething myself once with a couple o' quid I ran acrost unexpected, on'y,unfortunately for me, I hid it the day afore my missus started 'erspring-cleaning.
One o' the worst men I ever knew for getting into trouble when he cameashore was old Sam Small. If he couldn't find it by 'imself, Ginger Dickand Peter Russet would help 'im look for it. Generally speaking theyfound it without straining their eyesight.
I remember one time they was home, arter being away pretty near a year,and when they was paid off they felt like walking gold-mines. They wentabout smiling all over with good-temper and 'appiness, and for the firstthree days they was like brothers. That didn't last, of course, and onthe fourth day Sam Small, arter saying wot 'e would do to Ginger andPeter if it wasn't for the police, went off by 'imself.
His temper passed off arter a time, and 'e began to look cheerful agin.It was a lovely morning, and, having nothing to do and plenty in 'ispocket to do it with, he went along like a schoolboy with a 'arf holiday.He went as far as Stratford on the top of a tram for a mouthful o' freshair, and came back to his favourite coffee-shop with a fine appetite fordinner. There was a very nice gentlemanly chap sitting opposite 'im, andthe way he begged Sam's pardon for splashing gravy over 'im made Sam takea liking to him at once. Nicely dressed he was, with a gold pin in 'istie, and a fine gold watch-chain acrost his weskit; and Sam could see he'ad been brought up well by the way he used 'is knife and fork. He keptlooking at Sam in a thoughtful kind o' way, and at last he said wot abeautiful morning it was, and wot a fine day it must be in the, country.In a little while they began to talk like a couple of old friends, and hetold Sam all about 'is father, wot was a clergyman in the country, andSam talked about a father of his as was living private on three 'undred ayear.
"Ah, money's a useful thing," ses the man.
"It ain't everything," ses Sam. "It won't give you 'appiness. I've runthrough a lot in my time, so I ought to know."
"I expect you've got a bit left, though," ses the man, with a wink.
Sam laughed and smacked 'is pocket. "I've got a trifle to go on with,"he ses, winking back. "I never feel comfortable without a pound or twoin my pocket."
"You look as though you're just back from a vy'ge," ses the man, lookingat 'im very hard.
"I am," ses Sam, nodding. "Just back arter ten months, and I'm going tospend a bit o' money afore I sign on agin, I can tell you."
"That's wot it was given to us for," ses the man, nodding at him.
They both got up to go at the same time and walked out into the streettogether, and, when Sam asked 'im whether he might have the pleasure ofstanding 'im a drink, he said he might. He talked about the differentkinds of drink as they walked along till Sam, wot was looking for a high-class pub, got such a raging thirst on 'im he hardly knew wot to do with'imself. He passed several pubs, and walked on as fast as he could tothe Three Widders.
"Do you want to go in there partikler?" ses the man, stopping at thedoor.
"No," ses Sam, staring.
"'Cos I know a place where they sell the best glass o' port wine inLondon," ses the man.
He took Sam up two or three turnings, and then led him into a quietlittle pub in a back street. There was a cosy little saloon bar withnobody in it, and, arter Sam had 'ad two port wines for the look of thething, he 'ad a pint o' six-ale because he liked it. His new pal had onetoo, and he 'ad just taken a pull at it and wiped his mouth, when 'enoticed a little bill pinned up at the back of the bar.
"_Lost, between--the Mint and--Tower Stairs,_" he ses, leaning forwardand reading very slow, "_a gold--locket--set with--diamonds. Whoeverwill--return--the same to--Mr. Smith--Orange Villa--Barnet--will receive--thirty pounds--reward."
"'Ow much?" ses Sam, starting. "Thirty pounds," ses the man. "Must be agood locket. Where'd you get that?" he ses, turning to the barmaid.
"Gentleman came in an hour ago," ses the gal, "and, arter he had 'ad twoor three drinks with the guv'nor, he asks 'im to stick it up. 'Arfcrying he was--said 'it 'ad belonged to his old woman wot died."
She went off to serve a customer at the other end of the bar wot wasmaking little dents in it with his pot, and the man came back and satdown by Sam agin, and began to talk about horse-racing. At least, hetried to, but Sam couldn't talk of nothing but that locket, and wot anice steady sailorman could do with thirty pounds.
"Well, p'r'aps you'll find it," ses the man, chaffing-like. "'Aveanother pint."
Sam had one, but it only made 'im more solemn, and he got in quite atemper as 'e spoke about casuals loafing about on Tower Hill with their'ands in their pockets, and taking gold lockets out of the mouths ofhard-working sailormen.
"It mightn't be found yet," ses the man, speaking thoughtful-like. "It'swonderful how long a thing'll lay sometimes. Wot about going and 'avinga look for it?"
Sam shook his 'ead at fust, but arter turning the thing over in his mind,and 'aving another look at the bill, and copying down the name andaddress for luck, 'e said p'r'aps they might as well walk that way asanywhere else.
"Something seems to tell me we've got a chance," ses the man, as theystepped outside.
"It's a funny feeling and I can't explain it, but it always means goodluck. Last time I had it an aunt o' mine swallered 'er false teeth andleft me five 'undred pounds."
"There's aunts and aunts," ses Sam, grunting. "I 'ad one once, but ifshe had swallered 'er teeth she'd ha' been round to me to help 'er buysome new ones. That's the sort she was."
"Mind!" ses the man, patting 'im on the shoulder, "if we do find this, Idon't want any of it. I've got all I want. It's all for you."
They went on like a couple o' brothers arter that, especially Sam, andwhen they got to the Mint they walked along slow down Tower Hill lookingfor the locket. It was awkward work, because, if people saw them lookingabout, they'd 'ave started looking too, and twice Sam nearly fell overowing to walking like a man with a stiff neck and squinting down bothsides of his nose at once. When they got as far as the Stairs they cameback on the other side of the road, and they 'ad turned to go back aginwhen a docker-looking chap stopped Sam's friend and spoke to 'im.
"I've got no change, my man," ses Sam's pal, pushing past him.
"I ain't begging, guv'nor," ses the chap, follering 'im up. "I'm tryingto sell some-thing."
"Wot is it?" ses the other, stopping.
The man looked up and down the street, and then he put his 'ead near themand whispered.
"Eh?" ses Sam's pal.
"Something I picked up," ses the man, still a-whispering.
Sam got a pinch on the arm from 'is pal that nearly made hi
m scream, thenthey both stood still, staring at the docker.
"Wot is it?" ses Sam, at last.
The docker looked over his shoulder agin, and then 'e put his 'and in histrouser-pocket and just showed 'em a big, fat gold locket