The Autobiography of a Quack [9]
Stagers?''
``Can't say I do,'' said I, cautiously. Simon was a burglar who had blown off two fingers when mining a safe. I had attended him while he was hiding.
``Can't say you do. Well, you can lie, and no mistake. Come, now, doc. Simon says you're safe, and I want to have a leetle plain talk with you.''
With this he laid ten gold eagles on the table. I put out my hand instinctively.
``Let 'em alone,'' cried the man, sharply. ``They're easy earned, and ten more like 'em.''
``For doing what?'' I said.
The man paused a moment, and looked around him; next he stared at me, and loosened his cravat with a hasty pull. ``You're the coroner,'' said he.
``I! What do you mean?''
``Yes, you're the coroner; don't you understand?'' and so saying, he shoved the gold pieces toward me.
``Very good,'' said I; ``we will suppose I'm the coroner. What next?''
``And being the coroner,'' said he, ``you get this note, which requests you to call at No. 9 Blank street to examine the body of a young man which is supposed--only supposed, you see--to have--well, to have died under suspicious circumstances.''
``Go on,'' said I.
``No,'' he returned; ``not till I know how you like it. Stagers and another knows it; and it wouldn't be very safe for you to split, besides not making nothing out of it. But what I say is this, Do you like the business of coroner?''
I did not like it; but just then two hundred in gold was life to me, so I said: ``Let me hear the whole of it first. I am safe.''
``That's square enough,'' said the man. ``My wife's got''--correcting himself with a shivery shrug--``my wife had a brother that took to cutting up rough because when I'd been up too late I handled her a leetle hard now and again.
``Luckily he fell sick with typhoid just then--you see, he lived with us. When he got better I guessed he'd drop all that; but somehow he was worse than ever--clean off his head, and strong as an ox. My wife said to put him away in an asylum. I didn't think that would do. At last he tried to get out. He was going to see the police about-- well--the thing was awful serious, and my wife carrying on like mad, and wanting doctors. I had no mind to run, and something had got to be done. So Simon Stagers and I talked it over. The end of it was, he took worse of a sudden, and got so he didn't know nothing. Then I rushed for a doctor. He said it was a perforation, and there ought to have been a doctor when he was first took sick.
``Well, the man died, and as I kept about the house, my wife had no chance to talk. The doctor fussed a bit, but at last he gave a certificate. I thought we were done with it. But my wife she writes a note and gives it to a boy in the alley to put in the post. We suspicioned her, and Stagers was on the watch. After the boy got away a bit, Simon bribed him with a quarter to give him the note, which wasn't no less than a request to the coroner to come to the house to-morrow and make an examination, as foul play was suspected--and poison.''
When the man quit talking he glared at me. I sat still. I was cold all over. I was afraid to go on, and afraid to go back, besides which, I did not doubt that there was a good deal of money in the case.
``Of course,'' said I, ``it's nonsense; only I suppose you don't want the officers about, and a fuss, and that sort of thing.''
``Exactly,'' said my friend. ``It's all bosh about poison. You're the coroner. You take this note and come to my house. Says you: `Mrs. File, are you the woman that wrote this note? Because in that case I must examine the body.' ''
``I see,'' said I; ``she needn't know who I am, or anything else; but if I tell her it's all right, do you think she won't want to know why there isn't a jury, and so on?''
``Bless you,'' said the man, ``the girl isn't over seventeen, and doesn't know no more than a baby. As we live up-town miles away, she won't know anything about you.''
``I'll do it,'' said I, suddenly, for, as I saw, it involved no sort of risk; ``but I must have three hundred dollars.''
``And fifty,''
``Can't say I do,'' said I, cautiously. Simon was a burglar who had blown off two fingers when mining a safe. I had attended him while he was hiding.
``Can't say you do. Well, you can lie, and no mistake. Come, now, doc. Simon says you're safe, and I want to have a leetle plain talk with you.''
With this he laid ten gold eagles on the table. I put out my hand instinctively.
``Let 'em alone,'' cried the man, sharply. ``They're easy earned, and ten more like 'em.''
``For doing what?'' I said.
The man paused a moment, and looked around him; next he stared at me, and loosened his cravat with a hasty pull. ``You're the coroner,'' said he.
``I! What do you mean?''
``Yes, you're the coroner; don't you understand?'' and so saying, he shoved the gold pieces toward me.
``Very good,'' said I; ``we will suppose I'm the coroner. What next?''
``And being the coroner,'' said he, ``you get this note, which requests you to call at No. 9 Blank street to examine the body of a young man which is supposed--only supposed, you see--to have--well, to have died under suspicious circumstances.''
``Go on,'' said I.
``No,'' he returned; ``not till I know how you like it. Stagers and another knows it; and it wouldn't be very safe for you to split, besides not making nothing out of it. But what I say is this, Do you like the business of coroner?''
I did not like it; but just then two hundred in gold was life to me, so I said: ``Let me hear the whole of it first. I am safe.''
``That's square enough,'' said the man. ``My wife's got''--correcting himself with a shivery shrug--``my wife had a brother that took to cutting up rough because when I'd been up too late I handled her a leetle hard now and again.
``Luckily he fell sick with typhoid just then--you see, he lived with us. When he got better I guessed he'd drop all that; but somehow he was worse than ever--clean off his head, and strong as an ox. My wife said to put him away in an asylum. I didn't think that would do. At last he tried to get out. He was going to see the police about-- well--the thing was awful serious, and my wife carrying on like mad, and wanting doctors. I had no mind to run, and something had got to be done. So Simon Stagers and I talked it over. The end of it was, he took worse of a sudden, and got so he didn't know nothing. Then I rushed for a doctor. He said it was a perforation, and there ought to have been a doctor when he was first took sick.
``Well, the man died, and as I kept about the house, my wife had no chance to talk. The doctor fussed a bit, but at last he gave a certificate. I thought we were done with it. But my wife she writes a note and gives it to a boy in the alley to put in the post. We suspicioned her, and Stagers was on the watch. After the boy got away a bit, Simon bribed him with a quarter to give him the note, which wasn't no less than a request to the coroner to come to the house to-morrow and make an examination, as foul play was suspected--and poison.''
When the man quit talking he glared at me. I sat still. I was cold all over. I was afraid to go on, and afraid to go back, besides which, I did not doubt that there was a good deal of money in the case.
``Of course,'' said I, ``it's nonsense; only I suppose you don't want the officers about, and a fuss, and that sort of thing.''
``Exactly,'' said my friend. ``It's all bosh about poison. You're the coroner. You take this note and come to my house. Says you: `Mrs. File, are you the woman that wrote this note? Because in that case I must examine the body.' ''
``I see,'' said I; ``she needn't know who I am, or anything else; but if I tell her it's all right, do you think she won't want to know why there isn't a jury, and so on?''
``Bless you,'' said the man, ``the girl isn't over seventeen, and doesn't know no more than a baby. As we live up-town miles away, she won't know anything about you.''
``I'll do it,'' said I, suddenly, for, as I saw, it involved no sort of risk; ``but I must have three hundred dollars.''
``And fifty,''