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instant the rope snapped like a piece of thread. One end

remained in the hands of Sawkins and Dawson, who reeled backwards into

the room, and the other end flew up into the air, writhing like the

lash of a gigantic whip. For a moment the heavy ladder swayed from

side to side: Barrington, standing underneath, with his hands raised

above his head grasping one of the rungs, struggled desperately to

hold it up. At his right stood Bundy, also with arms upraised holding

the side; and on the left, between the ladder and the wall, was Philpot.

 

For a brief space they strove fiercely to support the overpowering

weight, but Philpot had no strength, and the ladder, swaying over to

the left, crashed down, crushing him upon the ground and against the

wall of the house. He fell face downwards, with the ladder across his

shoulders; the side that had the iron bands twisted round it fell

across the back of his neck, forcing his face against the bricks at

the base of the wall. He uttered no cry and was quite still, with

blood streaming from the cuts on his face and trickling from his ears.

 

Barrington was also hurled to the ground with his head and arms under

the ladder; his head and face were cut and bleeding and he was

unconscious; none of the others was hurt, for they had all had time to

jump clear when the ladder fell. Their shouts soon brought all the

other men running to the spot, and the ladder was quickly lifted off

the two motionless figures. At first it seemed that Philpot was dead,

but Easton rushed off for a neighbouring doctor, who came in a few

minutes.

 

He knelt down and carefully examined the crushed and motionless form

of Philpot, while the other men stood by in terrified silence.

 

Barrington, who fortunately was but momentarily stunned was sitting

against the wall and had suffered nothing more serious than minor cuts

and bruises.

 

The doctor’s examination of Philpot was a very brief one, and when he

rose from his knees, even before he spoke they knew from his manner

that their worst fears were realized.

 

Philpot was dead.

Chapter 47

The Ghouls

 

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 pocketbook 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.

 

`I don’t know exactly; he was asking about the accident, and whether

Joe left any children, and where he lived. He must be a very decent

sort of chap, I should think. He seems quite sorry about it.’

 

`Oh, he does, does he?’ said Crass, with a peculiar expression.

`Don’t you know who he is?’

 

`No,’ replied the boy; `but I thought p’raps he was a reporter of some

paper.

 

`‘E ain’t no reporter: that’s old Snatchum the undertaker. ‘E’s

smellin’ round after a job; but ‘e’s out of it this time, smart as ‘e

thinks ‘e is.’

 

Barrington came back the next morning to work, and at breakfast-time

there was a lot of talk about the accident. They said that it was all

very well for Hunter to talk like that about the rope, but he had

known for a long time that it was nearly worn out. Newman said that

only about three weeks previously when they were raising a ladder at

another job he had shown the rope to him, and Misery had replied that

there was nothing wrong with it. Several others besides Newman

claimed to have mentioned the matter to Hunter, and each of them said

he had received the same sort of reply. But when Barrington suggested

that they should attend the inquest and give evidence to that effect,

they all became suddenly silent and in a conversation Barrington

afterwards had with Newman the latter pointed out that if he were to

do so, it would do no good to Philpot. It would not bring him back

but it would be sure to do himself a lot of harm. He would never get

another job at Rushton’s and probably many of the other employers

would `mark him’ as well.

 

`So if YOU say anything about it,’ concluded Newman, `don’t bring my

name into it.’

 

Barrington was constrained to admit that all things considered it was

right for Newman to mind his own business. He felt that it would not

be fair to urge him or anyone else to do or say anything that would

injure themselves.

 

Misery came to the house about eleven o’clock and informed several of

the hands that as work was very slack they would get their back day at

pay time. He said that the firm had tendered for one or two jobs, so

they could call round about Wednesday and perhaps he might then be

able to give some of them another start, Barrington was not one of

those who were `stood off’, although he had expected to be on account

of the speech he had made at the Beano, and everyone said that he

would have got the push sure enough if it had not been for the

accident.

 

Before he went away, Nimrod instructed Owen and Crass to go to the

yard at once: they would there find Payne the carpenter, who was

making Philpot’s coffin, which would be ready for Crass to varnish by

the time they got there.

 

Misery told Owen that he had left the coffin plate and the

instructions with Payne and added that he was not to take too much

time over the writing, because it was a very cheap job.

 

When they arrived at the yard, Payne was just finishing the coffin,

which was of elm. All that remained to be done to it was the pitching

of the joints inside and Payne was in the act of lifting the pot of

boiling pitch off the fire to do this.

 

As it was such a cheap job, there was no time to polish it properly,

so Crass proceeded to give it a couple of coats of spirit varnish, and

while he was doing this Owen wrote the plate, which was made of very

thin zinc lacquered over to make it look like brass:

 

JOSEPH PHILPOT

Died

September 1st 19—

Aged 56 years.

 

The inquest was held on the following Monday morning, and as both

Rushton and Hunter thought it possible that Barrington might attempt

to impute some blame to them, they had worked the oracle and had

contrived to have several friends of their own put on the jury. There

was, however, no need for their alarm, because Barrington could not

say that he had himself noticed, or called Hunter’s attention to the

state of the rope; and he did not wish to mention the names of the

others without their permission. The evidence of Crass and the other

men who were called was to the effect that it was a pure accident.

None of them had noticed that the rope was unsound. Hunter also swore

that he did not know of it - none of the men had ever called his

attention to it; if they had done so he would have procured a new one

immediately.

 

Philpot’s landlady and Mr Rushton were also called as witnesses, and

the end was that the jury returned a verdict of accidental death, and

added that they did not think any blame attached to anyone.

 

The coroner discharged the jury, and as they and the witnesses passed

out of the room, Hunter followed Rushton outside, with the hope of

being honoured by a little conversation with him on the satisfactory

issue of the case; but Rushton went off without taking any notice of

him, so Hunter returned to the room where the court had been held to

get the coroner’s certificate authorizing the interment of the body.

This document is usually handed to the friends of the deceased or to

the undertaker acting for them. When

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