A Bid for Fortune Guy Boothby (animal farm read .txt) 📖

before he could threaten again I had got hold of his wrist with one hand, snatched the pistol with the other, and sent him sprawling on his back upon the carpet.

“Now, you brute,” I cried, “what am I going to do with you, do you think? Get up and clear out of the house before I take my boot to you.”

He got up and began to brush his clothes.

“I want my fifty pound,” he cried.

“You’ll get more than you want if you come here again,” I said. “Out you go!”

With that I got him by the collar and dragged him out of the room across the hall, much to the butler’s astonishment, through the front door, and then kicked him down the steps. He fell in a heap on the gravel.

“All right, my fine bloke,” he said as he lay there; “you wait till I get you outside. I’ll fix you up, and don’t you make no mistake.”

I went back to the dining-room without paying any attention to his threats. Both Mr. Wetherell and Beckenham had been witnesses of what had occurred, and now they questioned me concerning his visit. I gave them an outline of the story the man had told me and convinced them of its absurdity. Then Mr. Wetherell rose to his feet.

“Now shall we go and see McMurtough?”

“Certainly,” I said; “I’ll be ready as soon as you are.”

“You will come with us I hope, Lord Beckenham?” Wetherell said.

“With every pleasure,” answered his lordship, and thereupon we went off to get ready.

Three-quarters of an hour later we were sitting in Mr. McMurtough’s anteroom, waiting for an interview. At the end of ten minutes a commissionaire came in to inform us that Mr. McMurtough was disengaged, and forthwith conducted us to his room. We found him a small, grey-haired, pleasant-looking gentleman, full of life and fun. He received Mr. Wetherell as an old friend, and then waited to be introduced to us.

“Let me make you acquainted with my friends, McMurtough,” said Wetherell⁠—“the Marquis of Beckenham and Mr. Hatteras.”

He bowed and then shook hands with us, after which we sat down and Wetherell proceeded to business. The upshot of it all was that he fell in with our plans as soon as we had uttered them, and expressed himself delighted to lend his yacht in such a good cause.

“I only wish I could come with you,” he said; “but unfortunately that is quite impossible. However, you are more than welcome to my boat. I will give you a letter, or send one to the captain, so that she may be prepared for sea today. Will you see about provisioning her, or shall I?”

“We will attend to that,” said Wetherell. “All the expenses must of course be mine.”

“As you please about that, my old friend,” returned McMurtough.

“Where is she lying?” asked Wetherell.

The owner gave us the direction, and then having sincerely thanked him, we set off in search of her. She was a nice craft of about a hundred and fifty tons burden, and looked as if she ought to be a good sea boat. Chartering a wherry, we were pulled off to her. The captain was below when we arrived, but a hail brought him on deck. Mr. Wetherell then explained our errand, and gave him his owner’s letter. He read it through, and having done so, said:

“I am at your service, gentlemen. From what Mr. McMurtough says here I gather that there is no time to lose, so with your permission I’ll get to work at once.”

“Order all the coal you want, and tell the steward to do the same for anything he may require in his department. The bills must be sent in to me.”

“Very good, Mr. Wetherell. And what time will you be ready?”

“As soon as you are. Can you get away by three o’clock this afternoon, think you?”

“Well, it will be a bit of a scramble, but I think we can manage it. Anyhow, I’ll do my best, you may be sure of that, sir.”

“I’m sure you will. There is grave need for it. Now we’ll go back and arrange a few matters ashore. My man shall bring our baggage down later on.”

“Very good, sir. I’ll have your berths prepared.” With that we descended to the boat again, and were pulled ashore. Arriving there, Mr. Wetherell asked what we should do first.

“Hadn’t we better go up to the town and purchase a few rifles and some ammunition?” I said. “We can have them sent down direct to the boat, and so save time.”

“A very good suggestion. Let us go at once.”

We accordingly set off for George Street⁠—to a shop I remembered having seen. There we purchased half a dozen Winchester repeaters, with a good supply of ammunition. They were to be sent down to the yacht without fail that morning. This done, we stood on the pavement debating what we should do next. Finally it was decided that Mr. Wetherell and Beckenham should go home to pack, while I made one or two other small purchases, and then join them. Accordingly, bidding them goodbye, I went on down the street, completed my business, and was about to hail a cab and follow them, when a thought struck me: Why should I not visit Messrs Dawson & Gladman, and find out why they were advertising for me? This I determined to do, and accordingly set off for Castlereagh Street. Without much hunting about I discovered their office, and went inside.

In a small room leading off the main passage, three clerks were seated. To them I addressed myself, asking if I might see the partners.

“Mr. Dawson is the only one in town, sir,” said the boy to whom I spoke. “If you’ll give me your name, I’ll take it in to him.”

“My name is Hatteras,” I said. “Mr. Richard Hatteras.”

“Indeed, sir,” answered the lad. “If you’ll wait, Mr. Dawson will see you in a minute, I’m sure.”

On hearing my name the other clerks began whispering together, at the same time throwing furtive glances in my direction. In less than two minutes the