In Luck at Last. Walter Besant
your own—eh? Well, you'll wake 'em up a bit, won't you?"
Mr. James grinned again—he continued grinning.
"Go on, Mr. Joseph," he said; "go on—I like it."
"Consider the job as settled, then. As for terms they shall be easy; I'm not a hard man. And—I say, Foxy, about that safe?"
Mr. James suddenly ceased grinning, because he observed a look in his patron's eyes which alarmed him.
"About that safe. You must find out for me where the old man has put his money, and what it is worth. Do you hear? Or else—"
"How can I find out? He won't tell me any more than you."
"Or else you must put me in the way of finding out." Mr. Joseph lowered his voice to a whisper. "He keeps the keys on the table before him. When a customer takes him out here, he leaves the keys behind him. Do you know the key of the safe?"
"Yes, I know it."
"What is to prevent a clever, quick-eyed fellow like you, mate, stepping in with a bit of wax—eh? While he is talking, you know. You could rush it in a moment."
"It's—it's dangerous, Mr. Joseph."
"So it is—rather dangerous—not much. What of that?"
"I would do anything I could to be of service to you, Mr. Joseph; but that's not honest, and it's dangerous."
"Dangerous! There's danger in the briny deep and shipwreck on the blast, if you come to danger. Do we, therefore, jolly mariners afloat ever think of that? Never. As to honesty, don't make a man sick."
"Look here, Mr. Joseph. If you'll give me a promise in writing, that I'm to have the shop, as soon as you get it, at a fair valuation and easy terms—say ten per cent down, and—"
"Stow it, mate; write what you like, and I'll sign it. Now about that key?"
"Supposing you was to get a duplicate key, and supposing you was to get into trouble about it, Mr. Joseph, should you—should you—I only put it to you—should you up and round upon the man as got you that key?"
"Foxy, you are as suspicious as a Chinaman. Well, then, do it this way. Send it me in a letter, and then who is to know where the letter came from?"
The assistant nodded.
"Then I think I can do the job, though not, perhaps, your way. But I think I can do it. I won't promise for a day or two."
"There you spoke like an honest pal and a friendly shipmate. Dangerous! Of course it is. When the roaring winds do blow—Hands upon it, brother. Foxy, you've never done a better day's work. You are too crafty for any sailor—you are, indeed. Here, just for a little key—"
"Hush, Mr. Joseph! Oh, pray—pray don't talk so loud! You don't know who may be listening. There's Mr. Lala Roy. You never hear him coming."
"Just for a trifle of a key, you are going to get possession of the best book-shop in all Chelsea. Well, keep your eyes skinned and the wax ready, will you? And now, James, I'll be off."
"Oh, I say, Mr. Joseph, wait a moment!" James was beginning to realize what he had promised. "If anything dreadful should come of this? I don't know what is in the safe. There may be money as well as papers."
"James, do you think I would steal? Do you mean to insinuate that I am a thief, sir? Do you dare to suspect that I would take money?"
James certainly looked as if he had thought even that possible.
"I shall open the safe, take out the papers, read them, and put them back just as I found them. Will that do for you?"
He shook hands again, and took himself off.
At seven o'clock Mr. Emblem came down-stairs again.
"Has any one been?" he asked as usual.
"Only Mr. Joseph."
"What might Mr. Joseph want?"
"Nothing at all."
"Then," said his grandfather, "Mr. Joseph might just as well have kept away."
Let us anticipate a little. James spent the next day hovering about in the hope that an opportunity would offer of getting the key in his possession for a few moments. There was no opportunity. The bunch of keys lay on the table under the old man's eyes all day, and when he left the table he carried them with him. But the day afterward he got his chance. One of the old customers called to talk over past bargains and former prizes. Mr. Emblem came out of the back shop with his visitor, and continued talking with him as far as the door. As he passed the table—James's table—he rested the hand which carried the keys on it, and left them there. James pounced upon them and slipped them into his pocket noiselessly. Mr. Emblem returned to his own chair and thought nothing of the keys for an hour and a half by the clock, and during this period James was out on business. When Mr. Emblem remembered his keys, he felt for them in their usual place and missed them, and then began searching about and cried out to James that he had lost his bunch of keys.
"Why, sir," said James, bringing them to him, after a little search, and with a very red face, "here they are; you must have left them on my table."
And in this way the job was done.
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