Money Changers Page #2

"Money Changers" by W. W. Jacobs is a short story that delves into themes of greed, deception, and the unexpected consequences of one's actions. Set in a financial context, the narrative follows a group of money-changers who engage in dubious practices in pursuit of profit. With Jacobs' signature wit and humor, the story examines the moral dilemmas faced by the characters as their schemes unravel, ultimately highlighting the pitfalls of avarice and the complexities of human nature. Engaging and thought-provoking, "Money Changers" is a keen commentary on the intersection of morality and commerce.

• Fiction

								

gayly; “an’ I’ll give ’im sich a fright in the morning as he won’t
forget in a ’urry.”

He retired to his bunk, and placing the bag under his pillow, was soon
fast asleep. The other men followed his example, and Steve
extinguishing the lamp, the forecastle surrendered itself to sleep.

At five o’clock they were awakened by the voice of Mr. Dodds. It was a
broken, disconnected sort of voice at first, like to that of a man
talking in his sleep; but as Mr. Dodds’ head cleared his ideas cleared
with it, and in strong, forcible language straight from the heart he
consigned the eyes and limbs of some person or persons unknown to every
variety of torment, after which, in a voice broken with emotion, he
addressed himself in terms of heart-breaking sympathy.

“Shut up, Sam,” said Harry in a sleepy voice. “Why can’t you go to
sleep?”

“Sleep be ’anged,” said Mr. Dodds tearfully. “I’ve lorst all my money.”

“You’re dreamin’,” said Harry lightly; “pinch yourself.”

Mr. Dodds, who had a little breath left and a few words still
comparatively fresh, bestowed them upon him.

“I tell you you haven’t lorst it,” said Harry. “Don’t you remember
giving it to that red-’aired woman with a baby?”

“WOT?” said the astounded Mr. Dodds.

“You give it to ’er an’ told ’er to buy the baby a bun with it,”
continued the veracious Mr. Pilchard.

“Told ’er to buy the baby a bun with it?” repeated Mr. Dodds in a dazed
voice. “Told ’er to—— Wot did you let me do it for? Wot was all you
chaps standin’ by an’ doin’ to let me go an’ do it for?”

“We did arsk you not to,” said Steve, joining in the conversation.

Mr. Dodds finding language utterly useless to express his burning
thoughts, sat down and madly smashed at the table with his fists.

“Wot was you adoin’ to let me do it?” he demanded at length of the boy.
“You ungrateful little toad. You can give me that ’arf-suvrin back,
d’ye hear?”! “I can’t,” said the boy. “I followed your example, and
give it to the red-’aired woman to buy the baby another bun with.”

There was a buzzing noise in Mr. Dodds’ head, and the bunks and their
grinning occupants went round and round.

“’Ere, ’old up, Sam,” said Pilchard, shaking him in alarm. “It’s all
right; don’t be a fool. I’ve got the money.”

Sam stared at him blankly.

“I’ve got the money,” repeated the seaman.

Mr. Dodds’ colour came back.

“How’d you get it?” he inquired.

“I took it out of your pocket last night just to give you a lesson,”
said Harry severely. “Don’t you never be so silly agin, Sam.”

“Gimme my money,” said Mr. Dodds, glaring at him.

“You might ha’ lorst it, you see, Sam,” continued his benefactor; “if I
could take it, anybody else could. Let this be a lesson to you.”

“If you don’t gimme my money——” began Sam violently.

“It’s no good trying to do ’im a kindness,” said Harry to the others as
he turned to his bunk. “He can go an’ lose it for all I care.”

He put his hand in his bunk, and then with a sudden exclamation
searched somewhat hastily amongst the bedding. Mr. Dodds, watching him
with a scowl, saw him take every article separately out of his bunk,
and then sink down appalled on the locker.

“You’ve took it, Sam—ain’t—you?” he gasped.

“Look ’ere,” said Mr. Dodds, with ominous quietness, “when you’ve done
your little game.”

“It’s gone,” said Harry in a scared voice, “somebody’s taken it.”

“Look ’ere, ’Arry, give ’im his money,” said Steve impatiently; “a
joke’s a joke, but we don’t want too much of it.”

“I ain’t got it,” said Harry trembling. “Sure as I stand ’ere it’s
gone. I took it out of your pocket, and put it under my piller. You saw
me, didn’t you, Steve?”

“Yes, and I told you not to,” said Steve. “Let this be a warning to you
not to try and teach lessons to people wot don’t want ’em.”

“I’m going to the police-station to give ’im in charge,” said Mr. Dodds
fiercely, “that’s wot I’m goin’ to do.”

“For the Lord’s sake don’t do that, Sam,” said Pilchard, clutching him
by the coat.

“’Arry ain’t made away with it, Sam,” said Steve. “I saw somebody take
it out of his bunk while he was asleep.”

“Why didn’t you stop him?” cried Harry, starting up.

“I didn’t like to interfere,” said Steve simply; “but I saw where he
went to.”

“Where?” demanded Mr. Dodds wildly. “Where?”

“He went straight up on deck,” said Steve slowly, “walked aft, and then
down into the cabin. The skipper woke up, and I heard ’im say something
to him.”

“Say something to ’im?” repeated the bewildered Dodds. “Wot was it?”

“Well, I ’ardly like to repeat it,” said Steve hesitating.

“Wot was it?” roared the overwrought Mr. Dodds.

“Well, I ’eard this chap say something,” said Steve slowly, “and then I
heard the skipper’s voice. But I don’t like to repeat wot ’e said, I
reely don’t.”

“Wot was it?” roared Mr. Dodds, approaching him with clenched fist.

“Well, if you will have it,” said Steve with a little cough, “the old
man said to me, ‘Well done, Steve,’ he ses, ‘you’re the only sensible
man of the whole bilin’ lot. Sam’s a fool, ’e ses, and ’Arry’s worse,
an’ if it wasn’t for men like you, Steve, life wouldn’t be worth
living.’”
								Rate this book:0.0 / 0 votes