Suddenly the huge white globes in front of the hotel spluttered and flashed,piercing the darkness and the rain with their powerful rays.The bar,as suddenly illumined,brilliant with mirrors and glass,invited the weary passenger in to share its comforts.Joe fingered the solitary coin in his pocket--threepence.It was more than the price of a beer to him;it was the price of admission to the warm,comfortable bar every night,for the landlord was the friend of every man with the price of a drink in his pocket,and once inside,he could manage to drink at other people's expense till closing time.He kept an eye on the side door for Ada and Mrs Herring,at the same time watching each pedestrian as he emerged from the darkness into the glare of the electric lights.
The fine points of rain had gradually increased to a smart downfall,that drummed on the veranda overhead and gurgled past his feet in the gutter.
Behind him,from a leak in the pipe,the water fell to the ground with a noisy splash as if someone had turned on a tap.Joe felt that he hated water like a cat.His watery blue eyes,fixed with a careless scrutiny on every face,told him in an instant whether the owner was a likely mark that he could touch for a drink,but his luck was out.He decided that the two women must have slipped out by another door.
Jonah,who had been caught in the shower,stopped for a moment under the veranda,anxious to get back to the Silver Shoe before closing time.Joe let him pass without stirring a muscle;he knew him.If you asked him for a drink,he offered you work.But,as Jonah hesitated before facing the rain again,a sudden anger flamed in his mind at the sight of Jonah's gold watch-chain and silver-mounted umbrella.Cripes,he knew that fellow when he knocked about with the Push,and now he was rolling in money!And with the sudden impulse of a suicide who throws himself under a train,he stepped up to Jonah.
"Could I 'ave a word with yer,Mr Jones?"he mumbled.
"'Ello,Smacker!Just gittin''ome,like myself?"said Jonah.
"Not much use gittin''ome to an empty 'ouse,"said Joe,with a doleful whine,"an'I've earned nuthin'this week.""'Ow do yer expect to find work,when the only place yer look fer it is in the bottom of a beer-glass?"said Jonah.
"I 'ave me faults,none knows better than meself,"said Joe humbly,"but thinkin'of them won't fill me belly on a night like this.""Now look 'ere,"said Jonah,"I'm in a 'urry.I won't give yer any money,but if ye're 'ungry,come across the street,an'I'll buy yer a meal."Joe hesitated,but the thought of good money being wasted on food was too much for him,and he played his last card.
"Look,I'll tell yer straight,Mr Jones;it's no use tryin'to pull yer leg.I can git all the tucker I want for the askin',but I'm dyin'for a beer to cheer me up an'keep out the cold."He smiled at Jonah with an air of frankness,hoping to play on Jonah's vanity by this cynical confession,but his heart sank as Jonah replied "No,not a penny for drink,"and prepared to dive into the rain.
"'Orl right,boss,"muttered Joe;and then,half to himself,he added "'Ard luck,to grudge a man a pint,with 'is own missis inside there gittin'as full as a tick.""What's that yer say?"cried Jonah,turning pale.
"Nuthin',"muttered Joe,conscious that he had made a mistake.
But a sudden light flashed on Jonah.Ada had lied to him from the beginning.She had told him that she got the drink at Paddy Boland's in the Haymarket,a notorious drinking-den for women,where spirits were served to customers,disguised as light refreshments.The fear of a public scandal in a room full of women had alone prevented him from going there to find her.It was Mrs Herring's craft to throw Jonah on the wrong scent,and sip comfortably in the back parlour of the Angel,safe from detection,a stone's throw from the Silver Shoe.Jonah turned and walked in at the side door,leaving Joe with the uneasy feeling of the man who killed the goose to get the golden eggs.
Ada had just rung the gong,insisting on another drink with the fatuous obstinacy of drunkards.She lolled in her chair,her hat tilted over one ear,watching the door for the return of Cassidy with the tray and glasses,and wondering dimly why Mrs Herring's voice sounded far away,as if she were speaking through a telephone.Mrs Herring,the tip of her nose growing a brighter red with drink and vexation,was scolding and coaxing by turns in a rapid whisper.Suddenly she stopped,her eyes fixed in a petrified stare at an apparition in the doorway.It was the devil himself,Ada's husband,the hunchback.As he stood in the doorway,his eyes travelled from her to his wife.His face turned white,a nasty greyish white,his eyes snapped like an angry cat's,and then his face hardened in a sneer.But Ada,who was fast losing consciousness of her identity,stared at her husband without fear or surprise.The deadly silence was broken by the arrival of Cassidy,who nearly ran into Jonah with the tray.
"Beg pardon,"said he,briskly,and looking down found himself staring into the face of a grinning corpse.
"Don't mind me,Cassidy,"said the corpse,speaking."She can stand another glass,I think."Cassidy put the tray down with a jerk that upset the glasses.
"I'm very sorry this should have happened,Mr Jones,"he stammered.
"I'm very ."
"Of course you are,"cried Jonah."Ye're sorry fer anythin'that interferes with yer business of turning men and women into swine.""Come now,"said Cassidy,making a last stand on his dignity,"this is a public house,and I am bound to serve drink to anyone that asks for it.
