Free The Power of the Dead by Henry Williamson

him off. “I told the bank I’d take a cheque in. It was for that beastly Dynawurker vacuum cleaner I sold Colonel De’Ath, but Mrs. De’Ath refused to take delivery of it, when I called this morning.”
    “Did you or didn’t you sell it?”
    “I thought we had.”
    “Who is we?”
    “A commercial traveller who called. He offered to take me in his car, to give a demonstration, and asked me if I had any friends who might be interested. So we went to the De’Ath’s. The traveller offered to leave it with them, saying there was absolutely no obligation to buy.”
    “And did you leave it?”
    “No, I was coming to that. Outside he said we’d really made a sale, and advised me to buy a machine from him at trade price, and have it sent direct to the De’Ath’s.”
    “So he really sold the thing to you?”
    Tim laughed dryly. “Well, now I come to think of it, I suppose he did, in a way.”
    “I’d better come and help you, I think, Tim.”
    “How frightfully decent of you, my dear Phil. We’ll do anything you say. It’s a simply terrific load off my mind.”
    “Will you ask Ernest and Fiennes if they agree? If so, I’ll want to know how much you owe; how much you are owed; what contracts you have in hand; how many workmen you employ.”
    “I can tell you the answer to the last query now, Phil. There’s the carpenter, the smith, his son the apprentice, and ourselves.”
    They returned to the office.
    “What are the wages? What do the men do?”
    “Very little nowadays, I’m afraid, there simply isn’t any work for them.”
    “No contracts?”
    “None.”
    “Then they must be given a week’s notice.”
    “I don’t see how we can do that,” objected Fiennes. “We can’t just turn them off like that.”
    “Then you’ll pay them out of your own pocket?”
    When there was no reply he said, “Do you or don’t you want me as your temporary honorary manager?”
    Fiennes shrugged his shoulders. Ernest seemed deep in thought. “We want you to be,” said Tim.
    “All right. Now I must return to my farm. I had a bit of a financial crisis, too, but it’s cleared up, thank God. I’ll settle the fee for the stay of execution. There must not be a knock-down sale of this machinery, which will happen if the bailiffs come in. I may be able to come over later on in the day. Au revoir, and don’t forget the figures, Tim. And telephone the bank when they open, find out the amount of the overdraft, and don’t issue any more cheques. Cheerho—see you soon!”
    On his way through Shakesbury he called at the Clerk’s office to pay a penalty of £ 2,learning with dismay that it would only cover that day. “There’s another matter just arisen, sir, a writ has been issued against the Copleston Brothers by Bristol Foundries, Ltd., for sixty pounds.”
    “May I use your telephone?”
    He got on to the Works. “I’ll be over in a couple of hours or so, Fiennes.”
    “Right. You might collect the papers at Roper’s bookshop, and enquire if the Encyclopædia Britannica has come.”
    “Who wants it, Fiennes? It’ll cost a bit, won’t it?”
    “I don’t know. Pa wants it.”
    “What about paying for it?”
    “Oh, that doesn’t matter, it goes on the bill. Hold on. Tim wants a word with you.”
    “I’m most frightfully sorry, but Miss Calmady was asking about the groceries,” explained Tim diffidently. “She says they weren’t sent out, as usual, last Monday.”
    “Who is Miss Calmady?”
    “A new cook we have engaged. Just a moment, Fiennes has something to say.”
    Fiennes said, “While you’re about it, you might get another case of beer. And a bottle of sherry. Pa likes Australian sherry, ask for ‘Bushranger’ brand.”
    “I see.”
    “Also some cigarettes. Empire will do. Rhodesian. Here’s Tim back.”
    “I’ve an idea, Phil. You can’t possibly bring all those things on your Norton, so I’ll come in with the Trudge. Then I can find out if the transformer of the wireless set has