Free The Trouble With Harry by Jack Trevor Story Page A

Abie.
    Miss Graveley got Abie a large slice of cake and the small boy retreated gratefully. The captain went slowly back to his chair, stroking the fur of his small victim. ‘I must tell Sam about this,’ he murmured. At that moment his pleasure in the rabbit reached out and embraced his pleasure in all things; in meeting Sam Marlow; in making young Mrs Rogers so happy with the small accident to Harry; in providing shoes for the tramp. Especially in meeting Miss Graveley and hearing the bells. Impulsively he laid his hand on hers and said: ‘It’s a nice afternoon, ma’am.’
    She responded by putting her other hand on his arm. ‘And I think you’re awfully nice, Captain Wiles, even when you’re lying to me.’
    The Captain opened his mouth to expostulate or something, but Miss Graveley placed a finger across his lips and he said nothing. They exchanged a look. It was the look of an adult man to an adult woman in an adult world.

NICE PEOPLE
    The sun lay low across the heath when Captain Wiles and Sam arrived with their spades. The bracken and the shrubbery cast long shadows and small rabbits started in the short grass and quickly hopped back to cover.
    Peering into the heart of the rhododendron, the captain said: ‘He seems comfortable, Sam. Very comfortable and snug.’
    Sam said: ‘We’d better find a place to bury him and get it dug. The sooner he’s underground the better.’
    ‘If what you’ve been telling me is right,’ the captain remarked, ‘I agree with you, Sammy.’
    They walked the heath looking for a lonely and secluded spot where the earth was soft for digging. Sam led the way into bracken that stood higher than the rest, thick and above their heads. The little captain stumbled after him, picking his feet through bramble and ducking his head under the coarse vegetation.
    ‘This looks a good place,’ said Sam, stooping.
    They surveyed the prospective graveyard. It was completely enclosed by the bracken and overlooked only by the sky. It was almost as gloomy here as it had been under the rhododendron. The ground was a soft bed of black leaf mould.
    ‘Seems too nice a place to bury a bloke like that,’ Captain Wiles whispered. ‘Wouldn’t mind being buried here meself.’
    ‘One at a time, please,’ Sam whispered, taking off his jacket.
    The captain watched him while he began clearing the leaf mould away with his spade. Suddenly conscious of his audience Sam looked up at him. ‘Well, come on – off with your coat.’
    ‘What, me?’
    ‘Yes, of course – it’s your body.’
    They dug. They dug and they sweated. They dug violently and silently and the damp, black mould came up in heavy clods. Gradually, very gradually, they worked their way into an oblong hole, casting up a tremendous pile of earth on either side.
    Soon the captain was having to manoeuvre his spadeful of earth up and over his shoulder. He worked gamely on till it was no longer possible. Then with a last despairing heave he flung the spade out of the hole and collapsed against the earth wall.
    ‘What’s the trouble?’ Sam asked, through a curtain of perspiration.
    ‘Dead beat,’ said the captain, panting.
    ‘Good,’ Sam said. ‘I was dead beat ten minutes ago, but I wanted to keep on till your last gasp.’
    The captain tried to climb out but only succeeded in fetching a lot of earth back into the hole.
    ‘Don’t do that,’ Sam said, ‘Or you’ll get your wish and be buried here yourself. Here, I’ll give you a hand up.’
    Sam took Captain Wiles by the seat of his pants and hoisted him out, then followed up himself. Theystood looking down into the hole and it was big and deep and black, smelling strongly of earth.
    ‘Fair gives me the creeps,’ said the captain.
    ‘Let’s go and call for Harry then,’ Sam said, leading the way back through the bracken.
    They carried the body of Harry between them and it was as stiff as a plank. Sam took the head and shoulders and the captain the bare feet. They got it