The White Cat

by W. W. Jacobs

and then Bob, who 'adcome in to 'elp her, told 'er to 'ave both.

  "You're quite welcome," he ses; "ain't she, Joe?"

  Joe Clark said "Yes," and arter he 'ad helped them carry 'em 'ome thePrettys went back and took the best bedstead to pieces, cos Bob said asit was easier to carry that way. Mrs. Clark 'ad to go and sit down atthe bottom o' the garden with the neck of 'er dress undone to giveherself air, but when she saw the little Prettys each walking 'ome withone of 'er best chairs on their 'eads she got and walked up and down likea mad thing.

  "I'm sure I don't know where we are to put it all," ses Bob Pretty to JoeGubbins, wot was looking on with other folks, "but Joe Clark is thatgenerous he won't 'ear of our leaving anything."

  "Has 'e gorn mad?" ses Bill Chambers, staring at 'im.

  "Not as I knows on," ses Bob Pretty. "It's 'is good-'artedness, that'sall. He feels sure that that cat's dead, and that he'll 'ave GeorgeBarstow's cottage and furniture. I told 'im he'd better wait till he'dmade sure, but 'e wouldn't."

  Before they'd finished the Prettys 'ad picked that 'ouse as clean as abone, and Joe Clark 'ad to go and get clean straw for his wife andchildren to sleep on; not that Mrs. Clark 'ad any sleep that night, norJoe neither.

  Henery Walker was the fust to see what it really meant, and he wentrushing off as fast as 'e could run to tell George Barstow. Georgecouldn't believe 'im at fust, but when 'e did he swore that if a 'air ofthat cat's head was harmed 'e'd 'ave the law o' Bob Pretty, and arterHenery Walker 'ad gone 'e walked round to tell 'im so.

  "You're not yourself, George Barstow, else you wouldn't try and take awaymy character like that," ses Bob Pretty.

  "Wot did Joe Clark give you all them things for?" ses George, pointing tothe furniture.

  "Took a fancy to me, I s'pose," ses Bob. "People do sometimes. There'ssomething about me at times that makes 'em like me."

  "He gave 'em to you to kill my cat," ses George Barstow. "It's plainenough for any-body to see."

  Bob Pretty smiled. "I expect it'll turn up safe and sound one o' thesedays," he ses, "and then you'll come round and beg my pardon. P'r'aps--"

  "P'r'aps wot?" ses George Barstow, arter waiting a bit.

  "P'r'aps somebody 'as got it and is keeping it till you've drawed thefifteen pounds out o' the bank," ses Bob, looking at 'im very hard.

  "I've taken it out o' the bank," ses George, starting; "if that cat'salive, Bob, and you've got it, there's the fifteen pounds the moment you'and it over."

  "Wot d'ye mean--me got it?" ses Bob Pretty. "You be careful o' mycharacter."

  "I mean if you know where it is," ses George Barstow trembling all over.

  "I don't say I couldn't find it, if that's wot you mean," ses Bob. "Ican gin'rally find things when I want to."

  "You find me that cat, alive and well, and the money's yours, Bob," sesGeorge, 'ardly able to speak, now that 'e fancied the cat was stillalive.

  Bob Pretty shook his 'ead. "No; that won't do," he ses. "S'pose I did'ave the luck to find that pore animal, you'd say I'd had it all the timeand refuse to pay."

  "I swear I wouldn't, Bob," ses George Barstow, jumping up.

  "Best thing you can do if you want me to try and find that cat," says BobPretty, "is to give me the fifteen pounds now, and I'll go and look forit at once. I can't trust you, George Barstow."

  "And I can't trust you," ses George Barstow.

  "Very good," ses Bob, getting up; "there's no 'arm done. P'r'aps JoeClark 'll find the cat is dead and p'r'aps you'll find it's alive. It'sall one to me."

  George Barstow walked off 'ome, but he was in such a state o' mind 'edidn't know wot to do. Bob Pretty turning up 'is nose at fifteen poundslike that made 'im think that Joe Clark 'ad promised to pay 'im more ifthe cat was dead; and at last, arter worrying about it for a couple o'hours, 'e came up to this 'ere _Cauliflower_ and offered Bob the fifteenpounds.

  "Wot's this for?" ses Bob.

  "For finding my cat," ses George.

  "Look here," ses Bob, handing it back, "I've 'ad enough o' your insults;I don't know where your cat is."

  "I mean for trying to find it, Bob," ses George Barstow.

  "Oh, well, I don't mind that," ses Bob, taking it. "I'm a 'ard-workingman, and I've got to be paid for my time; it's on'y fair to my wife andchildren. I'll start now."

  He finished up 'is beer, and while the other chaps was telling GeorgeBarstow wot a fool he was Joe Clark slipped out arter Bob Pretty andbegan to call 'im all the names he could think of.

  "Don't you worry," ses Bob; "the cat ain't found yet."

  "Is it dead?" ses Joe Clark, 'ardly able to speak.

  "'Ow should I know?" ses Bob; "that's wot I've got to try and find out.That's wot you gave me your furniture for, and wot George Barstow gave methe fifteen pounds for, ain't it? Now, don't you stop me now, 'cos I'mgoin' to begin looking."

  He started looking there and then, and for the next two or three daysGeorge Barstow and Joe Clark see 'im walking up and down with his 'andsin 'is pockets looking over garden fences and calling "Puss." He askedeverybody 'e see whether they 'ad seen a white cat with one blue eye andone yaller one, and every time 'e came into the _Cauliflower_ he put his'ead over the bar and called "Puss," 'cos, as 'e said, it was as likelyto be there as anywhere else.

  It was about a week after the cat 'ad disappeared that George Barstow wasstanding at 'is door talking to Joe Clark, who was saying the cat must bedead and 'e wanted 'is property, when he sees a man coming up the roadcarrying a basket stop and speak to Bill Chambers. Just as 'e got nearthem an awful "miaow" come from the basket and George Barstow and JoeClark started as if they'd been shot.

  "He's found it?" shouts Bill Chambers, pointing to the man.

  "It's been living with me over at Ling for a week pretty nearly," ses theman. "I tried to drive it away several times, not knowing that there wasfifteen pounds offered for it."

  George Barstow tried to take 'old of the basket.

  "I want that fifteen pounds fust," ses the man.

  "That's on'y right and fair, George," ses Bob Pretty, who 'ad just comeup. "You've got all the luck, mate. We've been hunting 'igh and low forthat cat for a week."

  Then George Barstow tried to explain to the man and call Bob Pretty namesat the same time; but it was all no good. The man said it 'ad nothing todo with 'im wot he 'ad paid to Bob Pretty; and at last they fetchedPoliceman White over from Cudford, and George Barstow signed a paper topay five shillings a week till the reward was paid.

  George Barstow 'ad the cat for five years arter that, but he never let itget away agin. They got to like each other in time and died within afortnight of each other, so that Joe Clark got 'is property arter all.