The Chequers | Page 3

came my mentor, and softly remarked, "Don't go and
queer his pitch. Here's a lot on 'em a-comin', and they'll be all over you
if you say a word. Wait till he gits a bit and he'll pay." This was also
what I expected. We happened to be in an enclosed ground, so I
managed to keep my eye on the capitalist, and the unhappy being
vainly strove to dodge away. Catching him in the act of sneaking
through the turnstile, I touched him gently, and then beckoned to a
policeman. No welsher can hope for admission to one of the enclosed
courses after he is once fairly caught, and my victim whimpered,
"Come in yere and 'ave a drink." Then he said, "Look yere, I ain't got a
bloomin' 'alf dollar but what I 'ad off o' you. I walked down this
mornin', and hadn't only the gate-money, and your pal laid me on to
you. Say nothin' this time. I ain't had no grub to-day. Give us a chance.
'Twas your pal as put me on, mind. Brandy cold, if you don't mind."
The ineffable impudence of the capitalist's request made it hard for me
to keep from laughing; I let him go, and I fear that he and the Ramper
made further attempts on the idiots who throng the Silver Ring.
That same evening Mr. Ramper made his last effort to practise on me.
We were straddling among a sporting group in The Chequers bar, when
he said, "Better settle over Dexter." "Dexter? What about Dexter?"
"Didn't you take Dexter agin' Folly?" "Not such a mug." Then the
hound raised his voice in the fashion of his tribe. "You goin' to welsh
me, are you? You don't mean to pay that ten bob? I'll 'ave it out of your
bloomin' liver!" All this was uttered in a yell which was intended to
draw attention, and the creak of the brute's voice made me inclined to
dash my fist in his vile face. But I only grinned and said "What a poor
liar you are."

The more the Ramper screeched, the more I laughed; he durst not strike,
and at last, when I reminded him that he had already divided a little
plunder with the capitalist, he grumbled a curse or two and lapsed into
affability. You cannot shame one of these beings, and the Ramper is
now on the most confidential terms with me. I am very glad we did not
fight, because he introduced me to one of the most interesting and
estimable of all my acquaintances. Said the Ramper, blowing his sickly
breath into my very ear, "There's a bloke yere as knows suthin' good for
Lincoln. Up in the corner there. Let's sit down." Within a minute I
found myself talking to a queer, battered man, who bent moodily over
his glass of gin and stole furtive glances at me with bleared, sullen eyes.
His blood was charged with bile, and he could not prevent the sudden
muscular twitchings of his hands. His knuckles were swollen, and his
fingers were twisted slightly. Evidently he was diseased to the very
bone through alcoholic excesses. He was dressed in a shiny overcoat,
and his bony shanks threatened to pierce his trousers. When he pushed
back his rakish greasy hat, he showed a remarkably fine forehead--well
filled, strong, square--but he had the weakest and most sensual mouth I
ever saw. There was scarcely a sign of a lower jaw, and the chin
retreated sharply from the lip to the emaciated neck.
My man spoke with a deep voice that contrasted oddly with his air of
debility, and I noticed that he not only had a good accent, but his words
were uttered with a deliberate attempt at formal and polished elocution.
We talked of horse-racing, and he mouthed out one speech after
another with a balanced kind of see-saw, which again and again ran
into blank verse. I said, "You have something good for Lincoln, I hear.
Any chance of being on?" He replied, "I heed no fairy tales or boasting
yarns. When a man says he has a certainty, I tell him to his face that
he's a liar. The ways of chance are far beyond our ken, and I can but
say that I try. Information I have. From Newmarket I receive daily
messages, and I have as much chance of being right as other men have;
but you know what the Bard says. Ah! what a student of human nature
that man was! What an intellect! In apprehension how like a god! You
know what he says of prophecy and chance? I only fire a bolt at a
venture, and if my venture don't come off, then I say, 'Pay up and look
pleasant.'"

The majestic