Barrington did not do any more work that day, but before going home he went to the doctor’s house and the latter dressed the cuts on his head and arms. Philpot’s body was taken away on the ambulance to the mortuary.
Hunter arrived at the house shortly afterwards and at once began to shout and bully because the painting of the gable was not yet commenced. When he heard of the accident he blamed them for using the rope, and said they should have asked for a new one. Before he went away he had a long, private conversation with Crass, who told him that Philpot had no relatives and that his life was insured for ten pounds in a society of which Crass was also a member. He knew that Philpot had arranged that in the event of his death the money was to be paid to the old woman with whom he lodged, who was a very close friend. The result of this confidential talk was that Crass and Hunter came to the conclusion that it was probable that she would be very glad to be relieved of the trouble of attending to the business of the funeral, and that Crass, as a close friend of the dead man, and a fellow member of the society, was the most suitable person to take charge of the business for her. He was already slightly acquainted with the old lady, so he would go to see her at once and get her authority to act on her behalf. Of course, they would not be able to do much until after the inquest, but they could get the coffin made—as Hunter knew the mortuary keeper there would be no difficulty about getting in for a minute to measure the corpse.
This matter having been arranged, Hunter departed to order a new rope, and shortly afterwards Crass—having made sure that everyone would have plenty to do while he was gone—quietly slipped away to go to see Philpot’s landlady. He went off so secretly that the men did not know that he had been away at all until they saw him come back just before twelve o’clock.
The new rope was brought to the house about one o’clock and this time the ladder was raised without any mishap. Harlow was put on to paint the gable, and he felt so nervous that he was allowed to have Sawkins to stand by and hold the ladder all the time. Everyone felt nervous that afternoon, and they all went about their work in an unusually careful manner.
When Bert had finished limewashing the cellar, Crass set him to work outside, painting the gate of the side entrance. While the boy was thus occupied he was accosted by a solemn-looking man who asked him about the accident. The solemn stranger was very sympathetic and inquired what was the name of the man who had been killed, and whether he was married. Bert informed him that Philpot was a widower, and that he had no children.
“Ah, well, that’s so much the better, isn’t it?” said the stranger shaking his head mournfully. “It’s a dreadful thing, you know, when there’s children left unprovided for. You don’t happen to know where he lived, do you?”
“Yes,” said Bert, mentioning the address and beginning to wonder what the solemn man wanted to know for, and why he appeared to be so sorry for Philpot since it was quite evident that he had never known him.
“Thanks very much,” said the man, pulling out his pocket-book and making a note of it. “Thanks very much indeed. Good afternoon,” and he hurried off.
“Good afternoon, sir,” said Bert and he turned to resume his work. Crass came along the garden just as the mysterious stranger was disappearing round the corner.
“What did HE want?” said Crass, who had seen the man talking to Bert.