Prize Money Page #3

"Prize Money" by W. W. Jacobs is a humorous short story that revolves around the misadventures of a group of friends who become entangled in a betting scheme. The narrative highlights the quirks of human nature, the folly of greed, and the unpredictability of luck. Jacobs' witty prose and colorful characters bring to life the charm of early 20th-century England, making it a delightful exploration of camaraderie and the consequences of unexpected fortune.

• Humour
• Short story

								

in getting the hamper, and told 'im he didn't bear no malice for it.

“You 'ad the pluck to draw fust,” he ses, “and you won.”

Bob Pretty said he was a Briton, and arter a little more talk Peter
asked 'im to go and 'ave a pint with 'im to show that there was no
ill-feeling. They came into this 'ere Cauliflower public-'ouse like
brothers, and in less than ten minutes everybody was making as much fuss
o' Bob Pretty as if 'e'd been the best man in Claybury.

“Arter all, a man can't 'elp winning a prize,” ses Bill Chambers,
looking round.

“I couldn't,” ses Bob.

He sat down and 'elped hisself out o' Sam Jones's baccy-box; and one or
two got up on the quiet and went outside to listen to wot was going on
down the road. Everybody was wondering wot was happening, and when Bob
Pretty got up and said 'e must be going, Bill Chambers caught 'old of
him by the coat and asked 'im to have arf a pint with 'im.

Bob had the arf-pint, and arter that another one with Sam Jones, and
then 'e said 'e really must be going, as his wife was expecting 'im. He
pushed Bill Chambers's 'at over his eyes—a thing Bill can't abear—and
arter filling 'is pipe agin from Sam Jones's box he got up and went.

“Mind you,” ses Bill Chambers, looking round, “if 'e comes back and ses
somebody 'as taken his hamper, nobody knows nothing about it.”

“I 'ope Henery Walker 'as got it all right,” ses Dicky Weed. “When shall
we know?”

“He'll come up 'ere and tell us,” ses Bill Chambers. “It's time 'e was
here, a'most.”

Five minutes arterwards the door opened and Henery Walker came
staggering in. He was as white as a sheet, his 'at was knocked on one
side of his 'ead, and there was two or three nasty-looking scratches
on 'is cheek. He came straight to Bill Chambers's mug—wot 'ad just
been filled—and emptied it, and then 'e sat down on a seat gasping for
breath.

'The Door Opened and Henery Walker Came Staggering In.'

“Wots the matter, Henery?” ses Bill, staring at 'im with 'is mouth open.

Henery Walker groaned and shook his 'ead. “Didn't you get the hamper?”
ses Bill, turning pale. Henery Walker shook his 'ead agin.

“Shut up!” he ses, as Bill Chambers started finding fault. “I done the
best I could. Nothing could ha' 'appened better—to start with. Directly
Ted Brown and Joe Smith started, Mrs. Pretty and her sister, and all
the kids excepting the baby, run out, and they'd 'ardly gone afore I was
inside the back door and looking for that hamper, and I'd hardly started
afore I heard them coming back agin. I was at the foot o' the stairs at
the time, and, not knowing wot to do, I went up 'em into Bob's bedroom.”

“Well?” ses Bill Chambers, as Henery Walker stopped and looked round.

“A'most direckly arterwards I 'eard Mrs. Pretty and her sister coming
upstairs,” ses Henery Walker, with a shudder. “I was under the bed at
the time, and afore I could say a word Mrs. Pretty gave a loud screech
and scratched my face something cruel. I thought she'd gone mad.”

“You've made a nice mess of it!” ses Bill Chambers.

“Mess!” ses Henery, firing up. “Wot would you ha' done?”

“I should ha' managed diff'rent,” ses Bill Chambers. “Did she know who
you was?”

“Know who I was?” ses Henery. “O' course she did. It's my belief that
Bob knew all about it and told 'er wot to do.”

“Well, you've done it now, Henery,” ses Bill Chambers. “Still, that's
your affair.”

“Ho, is it?” ses Henery Walker. “You 'ad as much to do with it as I 'ad,
excepting that you was sitting up 'ere in comfort while I was doing all
the work. It's a wonder to me I got off as well as I did.”

Bill Chambers sat staring at 'im and scratching his 'ead, and just then
they all 'eard the voice of Bob Pretty, very distinct, outside, asking
for Henery Walker. Then the door opened, and Bob Pretty, carrying his
'ead very 'igh, walked into the room.

“Where's Henery Walker?” he ses, in a loud voice.

'Where's Henery Walker?' he Ses, in a Loud Voice.'

Henery Walker put down the empty mug wot he'd been pretending to drink
out of and tried to smile at 'im.

“Halloa, Bob!” he ses.

“What was you doing in my 'ouse?” ses Bob Pretty, very severe.

“I—I just looked in to see whether you was in, Bob,” ses Henery.

“That's why you was found under my bed, I s'pose?” ses Bob Pretty. “I
want a straight answer, Henery Walker, and I mean to 'ave it, else I'm
going off to Cudford for Policeman White.”

“I went there to get that hamper,” ses Henery Walker, plucking up
spirit. “You won it unfair last night, and we determined for to get it
back. So now you know.”

“I call on all of you to witness that,” ses Bob, looking round. “Henery
Walker went into my 'ouse to steal my hamper. He ses so, and it wasn't
'is fault he couldn't find it. I'm a pore man and I can't afford such
things; I sold it this morning, a bargain, for thirty bob.”

“Well, then there's no call to make a fuss over it, Bob,” ses Bill
Chambers.

“I sold it for thirty bob,” ses Bob Pretty, “and when I went out this
evening I left the money on my bedroom mantelpiece—one pound, two
arf-crowns, two two-shilling pieces, and two sixpences. My wife and her
sister both saw it there. That they'll swear to.”

“Well, wot about it?” ses Sam Jones, staring at 'im.

“Arter my pore wife 'ad begged and prayed Henery Walker on 'er bended
knees to spare 'er life and go,” ses Bob Pretty, “she looked at the
mantel-piece and found the money 'ad disappeared.”

Henery Walker got up all white and shaking and flung 'is arms about,
trying to get 'is breath.

“Do you mean to say I stole it?” he ses, at last.

“O' course I do,” ses Bob Pretty. “Why, you said yourself afore these
witnesses and Mr. Smith that you came to steal the hamper. Wot's the
difference between stealing the hamper and the money I sold it for?”

Henery Walker tried for to answer 'im, but he couldn't speak a word.

“I left my pore wife with 'er apron over her 'ead sobbing as if her 'art
would break,” ses Bob Pretty; “not because o' the loss of the money so
much, but to think of Henery Walker doing such a thing—and 'aving to go
to jail for it.”

“I never touched your money, and you know it,” ses Henery Walker,
finding his breath at last. “I don't believe it was there. You and your
wife 'ud swear anything.”

“As you please, Henery,” ses Bob Pretty. “Only I'm going straight off to
Cudford to see Policeman White; he'll be glad of a job, I know. There's
three of us to swear to it, and you was found under my bed.”

“Let bygones be bygones, Bob,” ses Bill Chambers, trying to smile at
'im.

“No, mate,” ses Bob Pretty. “I'm going to 'ave my rights, but I don't
want to be 'ard on a man I've known all my life; and if, afore I go to
my bed to-night, the thirty shillings is brought to me, I won't say as I
won't look over it.”

He stood for a moment shaking his 'ead at them, and then, still holding
it very 'igh, he turned round and walked out.

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