The Cap on the Stairs
'I feel as if I 'ad a touch of the dry rot meself, don't you?' said Philpot to Newman, who smiled feebly and cast a side-long glance at Sweater, who did not appear to notice the significance of the remark, but walked out of the room and began climbing up to the next floor, where Harlow and Sawkins were working.
'Well, there's a bleeder for yer!' said Philpot, with indignation. 'After all the trouble I took to clean 'is coat! Not a bloody stiver! Well, it takes the cake, don't it?'
'I told you 'ow it would be, didn't I?' replied Newman.
'P'raps I didn't make it plain enough,' said Philpot thoughtfully. 'We must try to get some of our own back somehow, you know.'
Going out on the landing he called softly upstairs:
'I say, Harlow.'
'Hallo,' said that individual, looking over the banisters.
''Ow are yer getting on up there?'
'Oh, all right, you know.'
'Pretty dry job, ain't it?' Philpot continued, raising his voice a little and winking at Harlow.
'Yes, it is, rather,' replied Harlow with a grin.
'I think this would be a very good time to take up the collection, don't you?'
'Yes; it wouldn't be a bad idear.'
'Well, I'll put me cap on the stairs,' said Philpot, suiting the action to the word; 'you never knows yer luck. Things is gettin a bit serious on this floor, you know; my mate's fainted away once already!'
Philpot now went back to his room to await developments; but as Sweater made no sign, he returned to the landing and again hailed Harlow.
'I always reckon a man can work all the better after 'e's 'ad a drink; you can seem to get over more of it, like.'
'Oh, that's true enough,' responded Harlow; 'I've often noticed it meself.'
Sweater came out of the front bedroom and passed into one of the back rooms without any notice of either of the men.
'I'm afraid it's a frost, mate,' Harlow whispered, and Philpot, shaking his head sadly, returned to work; but in a little while he came out again and once more accosted Harlow.
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