



Produced by David Widger




CAPTAINS ALL

By W.W. Jacobs



THE NEST EGG

[Illustration: "The Nest Egg."]

"Artfulness," said the night-watch-man, smoking placidly, "is a gift; but
it don't pay always.  I've met some artful ones in my time--plenty of
'em; but I can't truthfully say as 'ow any of them was the better for
meeting me."

He rose slowly from the packing-case on which he had been sitting and,
stamping down the point of a rusty nail with his heel, resumed his seat,
remarking that he had endured it for some time under the impression that
it was only a splinter.

"I've surprised more than one in my time," he continued, slowly.  "When I
met one of these 'ere artful ones I used fust of all to pretend to be
more stupid than wot I really am."

He stopped and stared fixedly.

"More stupid than I looked," he said.  He stopped again.

"More stupid than wot they thought I looked," he said, speaking with
marked deliberation.  And I'd let 'em go on and on until I thought I had
'ad about enough, and then turn round on 'em.  Nobody ever got the better
o' me except my wife, and that was only before we was married.  Two
nights arterwards she found a fish-hook in my trouser-pocket, and arter
that I could ha' left untold gold there--if I'd ha' had it.  It spoilt
wot some people call the honey-moon, but it paid in the long run.

One o' the worst things a man can do is to take up artfulness all of a
sudden.  I never knew it to answer yet, and I can tell you of a case
that'll prove my words true.

It's some years ago now, and the chap it 'appened to was a young man, a
shipmate o' mine, named Charlie Tagg.  Very steady young chap he was, too
steady for most of 'em.  That's 'ow it was me and 'im got to be such
pals.

He'd been saving up for years to get married, and all the advice we could
give 'im didn't 'ave any effect.  He saved up nearly every penny of 'is
money and gave it to his gal to keep for 'im, and the time I'm speaking
of she'd got seventy-two pounds of 'is and seventeen-and-six of 'er own
to set up house-keeping with.

Then a thing happened that I've known to 'appen to sailormen afore.  At
Sydney 'e got silly on another gal, and started walking out with her, and
afore he knew wot he was about he'd promised to marry 'er too.

Sydney and London being a long way from each other was in 'is favour, but
the thing that troubled 'im was 'ow to get that seventy-two pounds out of
Emma Cook, 'is London gal, so as he could marry the other with it.  It
worried 'im all the way home, and by the time we got into the London
river 'is head was all in a maze with it.  Emma Cook 'ad got it all saved
up in the bank, to take a little shop with when they got spliced, and 'ow
to get it he could not think.

He went straight off to Poplar, where she lived, as soon as the ship was
berthed.  He walked all the way so as to 'ave more time for thinking, but
wot with bumping into two old gentlemen with bad tempers, and being
nearly run over by a cabman with a white 'orse and red whiskers, he got
to the house without 'aving thought of anything.

They was just finishing their tea as 'e got there, and they all seemed so
pleased to see 'im that it made it worse than ever for 'im.  Mrs. Cook,
who 'ad pretty near finished, gave 'im her own cup to drink out of, and
said that she 'ad dreamt of 'im the night afore last, and old Cook said
that he 'ad got so good-looking 'e shouldn't 'ave known him.

"I should 'ave passed 'im in the street," he ses.  "I never see such an
alteration."

"They'll be a nice-looking couple," ses his wife, looking at a young
chap, named George Smith, that 'ad been sitting next to Emma.

Charlie Tagg filled 'is mouth with bread and butter, and wondered 'ow he
was to begin.  He squeezed Emma's 'and just for the sake of keeping up
appearances, and all the time 'e was thinking of the other gal waiting
for 'im thousands o' miles away.

"You've come 'ome just in the nick o' time," ses old Cook; "if you'd done
it o' purpose you couldn't 'ave arranged it better."

"Somebody's birthday?" ses Charlie, trying to smile.

Old Cook shook his 'ead.  "Though mine is next Wednesday," he ses, "and
thank you for thinking of it.  No; you're just in time for the biggest
bargain in the chandlery line that anybody ever 'ad a chance of.  If you
'adn't ha' come back we should have 'ad to ha' done it without you."

"Eighty pounds," ses Mrs. Cook, smiling at Charlie.  "With the money
Emma's got saved and your wages this trip you'll 'ave plenty.  You must
come round arter tea and 'ave a look at it."

"Little place not arf a mile from 'ere," ses old Cook.  "Properly worked
up, the way Emma'll do it, it'll be a little fortune.  I wish I'd had a
chance like it in my young time."

He sat shaking his 'ead to think wot he'd lost, and Charlie Tagg sat
staring at 'im and wondering wot he was to do.

"My idea is for Charlie to go for a few more v'y'ges arter they're
married while Emma works up the business," ses Mrs. Cook; "she'll be all
right with young Bill and Sarah Ann to 'elp her and keep 'er company
while he's away."

"We'll see as she ain't lonely," ses George Smith, turning to Charlie.

Charlie Tagg gave a bit of a cough and said it wanted considering.  He
said it was no good doing things in a 'urry and then repenting of 'em all
the rest of your life.  And 'e said he'd been given to understand that
chandlery wasn't wot it 'ad been, and some of the cleverest people 'e
knew thought that it would be worse before it was better.  By the time
he'd finished they was all looking at 'im as though they couldn't believe
their ears.

"You just step round and 'ave a look at the place," ses old Cook; "if
that don't make you alter your tune, call me a sinner."

Charlie Tagg felt as though 'e could ha' called 'im a lot o' worse things
than that, but he took up 'is hat and Mrs. Cook and Emma got their
bonnets on and they went round.

"I don't think much of it for eighty pounds," ses Charlie, beginning his
artfulness as they came near a big shop, with plate-glass and a double
front.

"Eh?" ses old Cook, staring at 'im.  "Why, that ain't the place.  Why,
you wouldn't get that for eight 'undred."

"Well, I don't think much of it," ses Charlie; "if it's worse than that I
can't look at it--I can't, indeed."

"You ain't been drinking, Charlie?" ses old Cook, in a puzzled voice.

"Certainly not," ses Charlie.

He was pleased to see 'ow anxious they all looked, and when they did come
to the shop 'e set up a laugh that old Cook said chilled the marrer in
'is bones.  He stood looking in a 'elpless sort o' way at his wife and
Emma, and then at last he ses, "There it is; and a fair bargain at the
price."

"I s'pose you ain't been drinking?" ses Charlie.

"Wot's the matter with it?" ses Mrs. Cook flaring up.

"Come inside and look at it," ses Emma, taking 'old of his arm.

"Not me," ses Charlie, hanging back.  "Why, I wouldn't take it at a
gift."

He stood there on the kerbstone, and all they could do 'e wouldn't budge.
He said it was a bad road and a little shop, and 'ad got a look about it
he didn't like.  They walked back 'ome like a funeral procession, and
Emma 'ad to keep saying "_H's!_" in w'ispers to 'er mother all the way.

[Illustration: "He said it was a had road and a little shop, and 'ad got
a look about it he didn't like."]

"I don't know wot Charlie does want, I'm sure," ses Mrs. Cook, taking off
'er bonnet as soon as she got indoors and pitching it on the chair he was
just going to set down on.

"It's so awk'ard," ses old Cook, rubbing his 'cad.  "Fact is, Charlie, we
pretty near gave 'em to understand as we'd buy it."

"It's as good as settled," ses Mrs. Cook, trembling all over with temper.

"They won't settle till they get the money," ses Charlie.  "You may make
your mind easy about that."

"Emma's drawn it all out of the bank ready," ses old Cook, eager like.

Charlie felt 'ot and cold all over.  "I'd better take care of it," he
ses, in a trembling voice.  "You might be robbed."

"So might you be," ses Mrs. Cook.  "Don't you worry; it's in a safe
place."

"Sailormen are always being robbed," ses George Smith, who 'ad been
helping young Bill with 'is sums while they 'ad gone to look at the shop.
"There's more sailormen robbed than all the rest put together."

"They won't rob Charlie," ses Mrs. Cook, pressing 'er lips together.
"I'll take care o' that."

Charlie tried to laugh, but 'e made such a queer noise that young Bill
made a large blot on 'is exercise-book, and old Cook, wot was lighting
his pipe, burnt 'is fingers through not looking wot 'e was doing.

"You see," ses Charlie, "if I was robbed, which ain't at all likely, it
'ud only be me losing my own money; but if you was robbed of it you'd
never forgive yourselves."

"I dessay I should get over it," ses Mrs. Cook, sniffing.  "I'd 'ave a
try, at all events."

Charlie started to laugh agin, and old Cook, who had struck another
match, blew it out and waited till he'd finished.

"The whole truth is," ses Charlie, looking round, "I've got something
better to do with the money.  I've got a chance offered me that'll make
me able to double it afore you know where you are."

"Not afore I