“That ain’t the way to set about it—not in this case. You want to use the ’ouse for a few hours first, and then lead up to the job tactful-like. Tell the landlord about your present job, and ’ow you don’t like it, and so on, and come to the ferry gradual.”
Mr. Clark, bowing to the superior wisdom of Horace, spent the whole of the afternoon, after he had watched Miss Poskett from her work to her home and back again, in the bar-parlour of the “Flag and Pennant” and it was not till tea-time that he decided that he had acquired sufficient standing as a patron of the house to advance a little further in the matter of the ferry.
“There’s good jobs and bad jobs, ain’t there, sir?” he observed, rather irrelevantly, to the dapper young landlord. “I wish I could change my job. I got a rotten job at present.”
“Oh!” said the landlord, without much interest. “What’s the job?”.
“Watching a young gal—a artful, tricky young gal.”
“Watching her? Do you mean you are married to her?”
“’Eaven forbid! I’m watching ’er at ’er relations’ wish to find out ’oo she’s carrying-on with unbeknown to them.”
“I shouldn’t have thought it was a very pleasant job for a man like you,” observed the landlord, disdainfully.
“It ain’t! Far from it! Little did I think, when Poskett asked me to keep a eye on ’is niece—”
“Miss Poskett, eh?” exclaimed the landlord, with sudden interest. “And so you are the chap who’s trying to find out who’s dangling after Miss Poskett, are you? Why, it’s—”