Night Watches

W.W. Jacobs
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Night Watches

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Night Watches, by W.W. Jacobs This
eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no
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Title: Night Watches Complete Series
Author: W.W. Jacobs
Release Date: April 26, 2004 [EBook #12161]
Language: English
Character set encoding: US-ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NIGHT
WATCHES ***

Produced by David Widger

NIGHT WATCHES
by W.W. Jacobs.

CONTENTS:
BACK TO BACK
KEEPING WATCH
THE UNDERSTUDY
THE WEAKER VESSEL
STEPPING BACKWARDS
THE THREE SISTERS
THE UNKNOWN
THE VIGIL
EASY MONEY
HIS OTHER SELF

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS:
"oh, Bill!" She Gasped. "and by Daylight, Too!"
"i'd Pretty Well Swear he Ain't the Same Dog"
"you--you Had Better Let Me Take Care of That"
"i Hope They Won't Meet 'er, Pore Thing," he Ses.
Mrs. Ward and Her Daughter Flung Themselves Hastily Between the
Sergeant-major and his Intended Sacrifice
I Got out at Last by Playing a Game on Her

BACK TO BACK
Mrs. Scutts, concealed behind the curtain, gazed at the cab in uneasy
amazement. The cabman clambered down from the box and, opening
the door, stood by with his hands extended ready for any help that
might be needed. A stranger was the first to alight, and, with his back
towards Mrs. Scutts, seemed to be struggling with something in the cab.
He placed a dangling hand about his neck and, staggering under the
weight, reeled backwards supporting Mr. Scutts, whose other arm was
round the neck of a third man. In a flash Mrs. Scutts was at the door.
"Oh, Bill!" she gasped. "And by daylight, too!"
Mr. Scutts raised his head sharply and his lips parted; then his head
sank again, and he became a dead weight in the grasp of his assistants.
"He's all right," said one of them, turning to Mrs. Scutts.
A deep groan from Mr. Scutts confirmed the statement.
"What is it?" inquired his wife, anxiously.
"Just a little bit of a railway accident," said one of the strangers. "Train
ran into some empty trucks. Nobody hurt--seriously," he added, in
response to a terrible and annoyed groan from Mr. Scutts.
With his feet dragging helplessly, Mr. Scutts was conveyed over his
own doorstep and placed on the sofa.
"All the others went off home on their own legs," said one of the
strangers, reproachfully. "He said he couldn't walk, and he wouldn't go
to a hospital."
"Wanted to die at home," declared the sufferer. "I ain't going to be cut
about at no 'ospitals."
The two strangers stood by watching him; then they looked at each

other.
I don't want--no--'ospitals," gasped Mr. Scutts, "I'm going to have my
own doctor."
"Of course the company will pay the doctor's bill," said one of the
strangers to Mrs. Scutts or they'll send their own doctor. I expect he'll
be all right to-morrow."
"I 'ope so," said Mr. Scutts, "but I don't think it. Thank you for bringing
of me 'ome."
He closed his eyes languidly, and kept them closed until the men had
departed.
"Can't you walk, Bill?" inquired the tearful Mrs. Scutts.
Her husband shook his head. "You go and fetch the doctor," he said,
slowly. "That new one round the corner."
"He looks such a boy," objected Mrs. Scutts.
"You go and fetch 'im," said Mr. Scutts, raising his voice. "D'ye hear!"
"But--" began his wife.
"If I get up to you, my gal," said the forgetful Mr. Scutts, "you'll know
it."
"Why, I thought--" said his wife, in surprise.
Mr. Scutts raised himself on the sofa and shook his fist at her. Then, as
a tribute to appearances, he sank back and groaned again. Mrs. Scutts,
looking somewhat relieved, took her bonnet from a nail and departed.
The examination was long and tedious, but Mr. Scutts, beyond
remarking that he felt chilly, made no complaint. He endeavoured, but
in vain, to perform the tests suggested, and even did his best to stand,
supported by his medical attendant. Self-preservation is the law of

Nature, and when Mr. Scutts's legs and back gave way he saw to it that
the doctor was underneath.
"We'll have to get you up to bed," said the latter, rising slowly and
dusting himself.
Mr. Scutts, who was lying full length on the floor, acquiesced, and sent
his wife for some neighbours. One of them was a professional
furniture- remover, and, half-way up the narrow stairs, the unfortunate
had to remind him that he was dealing with a British working man, and
not a piano. Four pairs of hands
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