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Whereas," he concluded, "if we time ourselves to reach Knowlsey by seven in the mornin', they'll all have locked through an' left the coast clear." Said Tilda, still contemptuous "I 'd like to turn Bill loose on this navigation o' yours, as you call it." "Oo's Bill?" "He works the engine on Gavel's roundabouts; an' he's the best an' the cleverest man in the world." "Unappre'shated, I spose?"
"I didn't ask you to shake it. I want to be helped out to the fresh air, and then these children'll march straight home with me to my caravan." "But," stammered Sam, not yet clear that he had found an ally, " but that's leadin' 'em straight into Gavel's arms!" "Young man," replied the lady austerely, "it leads into no man's arms."
"'E's what you might call Gavel's right 'and man an' 'e's 'andy with 'is right, too, when 'e's put out. If 'e should 'ear I'm advisin' for yer good, mind if 'e should 'ear as five 'orses was 'ung up on the wharf 'ere through S. 'Olly an' Son's neglect, you may look out for ructions. An' that's all I promise."
Bess allowed to me that before the evenin's out Gavel will be offerin' 'is shirt to 'ave 'im back an' Bess don't know the worst neither. They've put on a boy to work the engine, an' Bill 'as told me things about that boiler o' Gavel's . . . I couldn' get near enough to read the pressure, but by the way 'e was pilin' in coal " She broke off and gazed down the slope.
"He don't properly belong to me," explained Tilda. "He belongs to Bill, that works the engine on Gavel's roundabouts; but he larned his tricks off me. That'll do, 'Dolph; go an' lie down." "He's a clever dog, and I beg his pardon for kicking him," said Mr. Hucks with a twinkle. "He's better 'n clever. Why, 'twas 'Dolph that got us out." "What, from the Orph'nage?" "Yes."
Because, if so, there's five gallopin' 'orses down at the wharf waitin' to be taken over to Henley-in-Arden." "Oh?" said the woman. "My 'usband left word Gustavus was to fetch 'em along if they arrived. But who sent you with the message?" "I've a friend in Gavel's business," Tilda answered with dignity.
It must be confessed that he lost his temper woefully, and so vociferously that Sir Elphinstone this time descended from the platform, and strode across the meadow to demand what the devil he meant by it. Nor was even this the last drop in the cup of Mr. Gavel's bitterness; for the baronet, struck by Mr.
"Is is there goin' to be one?" The match burned low in Sam's trembling fingers, and he dropped it with an exclamation of pain. "There was one," said the Fat Lady. "At Gavel's roundabouts. Leastways, the folks came chargin' into my tent, which is next door, cryin' out that the boiler was blowin' up. I travel with Gavel, sir as his Fat Lady " "Oh!" Sam drew a long breath.
In this manner, trotting and pausing, they had covered a bare three-quarters of a mile when there smote on their ears a throbbing of the air a thud-thud which Arthur Miles took for the beat of a factory engine, so like it was to the echoes that had floated daily, and all day long, across the Orphanage wall; but Tilda, after hearkening a moment, announced it to be the bass of Gavel's steam organ.
Gavel's a remarkable man too in 'is way; though not a patch on Bill. Bill tells me Gavel can get drunk twice any day; separate drunk, that is." "Liberal or Conservative?" "Well," hesitated Tilda, playing for safety, "I dunno as he 'd tell, under a pint; but mos' likely it depends on the time o' day."
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