Chapter 29: Chapter 29

''Hmph,'' said Amy, but they could see she was not displeased.

After that, they sang about a missing Highland Laddy, and the singers wanted him to come home. He did not appear but they sang other songs to great applause.

Another person who was enjoying the day was Mrs. Edna Goss, Mr. Gladman's assistant. She was delighted to have Amy with her and was amused by the verbal exchanges between Amy and Sir Thomas. She liked Gabriel because of his friendliness

and admired his skill with the piano, and she loved the songs.

The day was transformed for Mr. Gladman when a client, who was the wife of a rich squatter from the Western District, announced that the harp was charming and would do very well for her daughters. She agreed readily with Fox that the price of £45, was reasonable, seeing it was an imported French harp but she hesitated to pay a deposit of £5 without talking to her husband. She hurried away to see him and explain that their daughters would never shine in society unless they could play the harp. She

would be back the next day with the deposit, she said, and it could be sent C.O.D., freight

to pay by railway.

To his delight Mr. Gladman found Fox playing the most expensive piano in the shop at the request of yet another customer. It was as good a quality piano as the one sold to

Timothy Leigh. That instrument had been diverted from its former destination of

Walhalla and was now sitting ignored and silent in the drawing-room of the house at

Brighton.

The customer to whom he demonstrated the piano made up her mind on the spot handed over a £10 note and dictated a first-class address in Toorak. Mr. Gladman

respectfully attended to these details while Gabriel turned to yet another client.

Mr. Gladman had a lucky escape during the afternoon. Elder Muirhead came back to inspect the premises. He must have heard some rumor of the activities at the music

shop and was prepared to denounce Mr. Gladman as one guilty of inviting the devil to

be a partner in his business but was astonished when walking in sternly to do his

duty, to discover that a minister and some of his elders were present. They were

inspecting the very organ that had been rejected by Gabriel's earliest customers, and

Mr. Gladman was working the bellows so they could be played.

As members of a less severe set, they had no difficulty in accepting the decorations on the instrument. Indeed, one elder suggested they should, perhaps, look round for

something a little more ornate.

Elder Muirhead knew these men favorably. The clergyman for his spirited and eloquent denunciations of the papacy which, he managed to work into every sermon,

no matter what the text. His elders and the congregation, in general, were known for the unyielding strength of their creed. This and their belief in the value of hard work,

particularly by their employees, had enabled them to gather great wealth.

Their presence appeared to give legitimacy of a kind to recent occurrences at the

shop. Elder Muirhead resolved not to denounce Mr. Gladman on the spot but to offer a

mild rebuke in church on Sunday. As the man's business was going so well perhaps an extra tithe would suffice to balance the heavenly account. All money would be welcome for the war chest to finance the coming campaigns.

These gentlemen greeted Elder Muirhead as a warrior with them in a common cause

and Elder Muirhead, who had come to denounce, remained to listen to Fox talking

about the organ and playing on it.

The recital was a great success. The organist played pieces from Bach and Handel,

two hymns, some modern tunes, and ended with a powerful rendition of God Save the

Queen, during which all stood strictly to attention.

Again Mr. Gladman was fortunate, though he listened uneasily for the sound of approaching pipers or a marching band while Fox was explaining the beauties of the organ. None of these sinners turned up while the Minister and his board, and Elder

Muirhead was at the shop. Nor did the German Band put in an appearance. Earlier

they had been observed at a distance giving a streetside concert near the Eastern

Market but no one had told them of a professional engagement at Mr. Gladman's shop.

It was just as well. The organ had made such a favorable impression that the customers were on the point of buying it if only Gabriel was available on Sundays as an organist.

He had to decline. It was scarcely possible to have any other form of employment on the Sabbath and to sell real estate would be unthinkable. Nevertheless, he expected to

be busy on the other six days and would need the rest day to be with Amy and her

family.

To Mr. Gladman's chagrin, the churchmen withdrew without making a final decision on the organ but promised to return. Before going they enquired about delivery. It seemed they had half made up their minds to treat the church to a Christmas Gift, a

new organ. Mr. Gladman promised to call straight away on the carriers to see if the job could be done on the understanding that the clients would be back the next day.

As soon as they left he hurried off to the carrier's office.

When he had gone Sir Thomas pulled out his watch, looked at the time. He said,

''Come on you two, it's lunchtime. We'll go to that restaurant you were telling me

about, the one where you heard the news about the bank closure.''

''If we go off now we'll leave Mrs. Goss on her own.''

'' Alright, we'll wait until Gladman gets back, then we're off.

Business slackened off for a while. There was no one playing a tune or dancing in the

shop and the crowds hurrying past stopped only momentarily to gawk at hoardings

or look in through the empty window frame.

A man wearing a black beard and a soft, broad-brimmed hat pulled low over his eyes

came in hesitantly and started to look about at the stock.

Gabriel approached the man. "Get out!" he muttered, first glancing at the others and keeping his voice low. "Clear off before you cause any more trouble. If Gladman comes

back while you're here he'll call the police and you'll go to jail for sure."

It was Benno, much subdued, and his voice was tremulous. "That's no way to talk to a

man on the run, I feel crook and I'm a bit shaky on my pins and I've been waiting outside for the boss to go away so I could come and have a word with you. I'm not

feelin' too clever right now and I haven't had my medicine."

"Just as well. You keep drinking rubbish like that and you will end up with alcoholic poisoning. If you hadn't been drunk on Dr. Smith's Cure you wouldn't have smashed

the windows and the police wouldn't be looking for you."

Benno sniffed. "How d'ya know it was me when I walked inter the shop? The boys fixed me up a treat with the beard and the hat and they even got new duds for me. I

thought it'd be alright to walk round in disguise, but you gotta help me. They can get

me on to a coastal steamer that's calling into a few places on the way up to Sydney,

I'm going to be a deckhand until I jump ship in Sydney, but I'll need money."

''Well, if it isn't my old friend Benno,'' said Sir Thomas, approaching and looking

closely at the fugitive... ''You've come back to bring more excitement and joy into our

lives, have you?'

''I need money,'' said Benno,'' A man on the run always needs money.''

''Well, you're not getting any off me. I've been dealing with drunks from the time I

stepped aboard my first ship. I know that if anyone gives you the money you'll go straight to that quack doctor of yours and buy some more of his slow-acting poison.

"You're a white man Gabby. You won't let me down,'' said Benno, trying to

ignore Sir Thomas, which was difficult to do.

Gabriel was impatient with this conversation. He wanted Benno out of the shop as

soon as possible and he and Sir Thomas ushered him to the door just as Mr. Gladman

arrived back from his visit to the carrier's office.

"Alright," said Gabriel, "We don't have any of the sheet music in stock that you want;

perhaps if you were to go to Allan's round in Collins Street, they may be able to help

you."

"Surely," said Mr. Gladman, ''You are not going to send this gentleman away without trying to find some other music that may be suitable for his needs. Which are you interested in, Sir? Sacred? profane? We have a large stock of sheet music as you may

have observed and we can always order for individual requirements with a minimum

of delay."

Benno gaped at him and then remembered to keep his head down so that his face was

covered by the brim of his hat.

Mr. Gladman stared and frowned; "Surely I've met this gentleman before."

"I don't think so. If you can't get what you want at Allan's by all means come back and

see us." Benno fled.

Mr. Gladman entered the shop lost in thought. "Such an odd figure, so heavily

bearded; I could have sworn I have seen him somewhere before-"

Fox longed for a customer to walk in to break the proprietor's train of thought. Mr.

Gladman had grudgingly come to the opinion that Gabriel may not have incited Benno to break his windows but all his suspicions would flare up again if he realized that the enemy had penetrated his very shop. Mr. Gladman buys a shop

Gabriel was about to say something, anything, to distract Mr. Gladman when James

Pryor walked in. "Now George," he said, "I told you I'd make your fortune for you and this is the day. Get your hat my boy, we have work to do."

Mr. Gladman eyed him. His suspicions were aroused by being. once again, addressed by his Christian name. "What mummery do you intend to inflict on me and my

business this time?" He enquired, perhaps ungratefully considering the amount of business he had written that day. "More unseemly shows and songs to bring me and

my shop into disrepute?"

"No, no, you're safe for the time being. The Indiarubber Lady who does some fire-eating on the side isn't available today," he said, winking at the listeners, "But the man that stands on his head and plays the violin with his toes is ready any time. Just say the word and I'll send for him. Anyway, don't worry about it George, there are other things to consider. Would you believe," he said, gently catching Mr. Gladman by a

button on his sprigged waistcoat and shaking him so the masonic emblem on his

watch and chain swung back and forth, "would you believe I have just lamped a nice

commercial property in the best retail position in Melbourne. I couldn't believe it. At

the price, they're asking it won't last a week."

"Is it a shop?"

"Yes, it's a lovely two-story shop in Collins Street East between Swanston and

Elizabeth and some madman want to sell it. You come round and have a look and you'll buy! It's like buying money. This is your retirement fund, George. This is your chance to set yourself up for life. You buy this property and your descendants will

bless you down to the last generation."

"I have a shop," retorted Mr. Gladman, "And, "And I do not need for another which,

in any case, I could not afford."

"Now, George. I'm not going to put up with this nonsense about you not being able to afford the place. It's a question of bending down in the street and picking up golden guineas that someone has been fool enough to throw away. Get your hat. All I want from you is a deposit and your signature. Ten years from now you might still have a

mortgage on the property but it wouldn't matter because you could live on the rent or else sell it and double your money. Now! Tomorrow's no good; an investor may have snapped it up by that time. We’ll take a cab and go straight there before someone else

finds out there's a pot of gold in Collins street just waiting to be picked up,"

Mr. Gladman resisted and argued with the agent. He said he would view the property on the next day, or straight after Christmas, but at the moment he could not afford to leave the shop. He said his wife was highly nervous and could not stand shocks and upsets of any kind. The work of the Faithful Brethren would suffer, how could he make his usual contributions if the money was to be squandered on real estate?

"Oh, Bugger the Brethren," said Mr. Pryor and had difficulty stemming the indignation

expressed by Mr. Gladman at this heresy.

The reluctant purchaser pleaded shortness of cash but was assured that The

Melbourne and the London Amicable Building Society would be happy to advance the

the bulk of the purchase price on the most favorable terms his only outlay would be a

minimum deposit, however the larger the deposit the shorter would be the period of

repayment.

He was still complaining and protesting when Mr. Pryor made him put on his hat and escorted him outside into the street to hail a hansom cab. They rattled off into the

distance and round the corner into Swanston Street.

"Goodness me," said an astonished Mrs. Goss, "who'd have thought it. Is your partner

always as persuasive as that?"

"Pretty well," answered Amy, with some pride. ‘Mr. Fox chose him as his partner, and

he made a very good choice.''

''Yes,'' said Sir Thomas. ''If you ever want to sell snowballs to the Eskimos get Jimmy

Prior, he’s your man.

"I would not have missed today for a hundred pounds," said Mrs. Goss.

About an hour later Mr. Gladman returned white-faced and staring. He looked at the people in the shop and didn’t see them. It was difficult for him to speak. He swallowed several times but finally was able to say. "I bought the shop. I've put down a deposit and signed the preliminary papers. How will I explain this to Mrs. Gladman? You have no idea of the delicate state of her health. What will I say to the Faithful Brethren

when I tell them I cannot make my usual weekly donation to the cause?" He mopped

his forehead with a large silk handkerchief. "I have been weak; I could not resist the

blandishments of that young man." He sat down in a chair usually reserved for customers.

Gabriel tried to reassure him that all would be well, that there was no possibility of a

real estate transaction in Melbourne going wrong and that one day he would be glad that he owned property in the center of the city.

The man looked around wildly. "I will have to give notice to my landlord. In five

weeks the new shop will be vacant and I will have to move all my stock round to

Collins Street."

He thought again. "Is 10% an excessive rate of interest? To me it seems very high but

somehow I could not convey that concept to your friend; he considered 10% most

modest."

"He would," thought Fox; 10% on a loan did seem rather high but Fox assured him that he should look on the weekly payments as rent. If he was paying more at least he

would acquire valuable property.

"I never intended to buy," said Mr. Gladman pitifully. "Everything was done in such a

rush. We had a quick look at the place upstairs and downstairs, - it is quite airy and spacious, you know, and an excellent location. Then we seemed to whirl off to the bank and draw some money, and then I was signing papers. At no time did I say I

wanted to purchase, but somehow I could not make my objections known. Is it too

late to withdraw?"

Fox thought it was, and anyway, Mr. Gladman would be helpless before James Pryor's eloquence. He was sure the man had a bargain and when he discovered he actually could keep up the payments he would feel differently about the deal. Besides, if the

Brethren were to go short of money, that would be as good a reason as any for

making Mr. Gladman buy the shop.

"This has been a dreadful few days," said Mr. Gladman. "First my windows were

smashed, then Elder Muirhead decided he wanted me to command a company of men

in a battle with the Catholics. I have this odious promotion of my business that is

bringing it and me into disrepute and now, somehow, I have bought a property I did

not intend to buy and possibly can't afford."

He remained slumped heavily in his chair. His hat was still on his head, he had

forgotten to take it off and it had fallen forward over his forehead.

This was a delicate moment and Fox did not want to increase the man's agitation but

the problem of Benno and his affairs had to be discussed with his partner.

"You must excuse me for a short while; I have to go to the bank."

Mr. Gladman roused himself. "You have not been gambling again, I trust. I recollect

warning you very strongly against the evils of gambling."

Gabriel reassured him. He did not mention that he was going to his own office, Mr.

Gladman, in his present state, might come to believe that he and James Pryor were

working together against him.

''It sounds to me,'' said Sir Thomas, ''As though you got a bargain. Come on Ame we'll

go look at the place and report back.''

''My name is Amy and I am not going anywhere with you if you are going to shorten it.

You're a vulgar old sailor, who may not know any better. But until you get my name

right you can go on your own.''

''If we were at sea I would have you clapped in irons for insolence to the master of the ship, and as a warning to other passengers, particularly young women. But seeing we're on land I'm at a disadvantage. I'll have to try flattery instead. So dear Miss Amy,

lovely Miss Taylor, would you please come with your humble servant to view Mr

Gladman's latest purchase?

''Gladly,'' she said, ''But watch your language.''

She kissed Gabriel again as they left the shop.

''You don't ever kiss me like that.''

''You don't deserve a kiss. But one day, if you ever improve, I may let you kiss my

hand.''''

Gabriel left the office and went a different way. He could have gone for the rest of the day, probably unnoticed by the proprietor, so he left Mrs. Goss in charge. She was

still smiling at the way Amy had dealt with Sir Thomas.

James Pryor was sitting in his little office, going through the day's mail. He too wore his hat indoors but it was set at a jaunty angle to mark his pleasure with the world.

"Sit down," he said. "Well, I fixed old Gladman up with a nice property. When we get a

bit more money behind us we'll start buying up places like that: you can't go wrong.

How did he look when he got back to the shop?"

"Terrible! He's useless to us now and I don't think he will get any sleep tonight,

neither will Mrs. Gladman; they'll be able to lie there and worry together."

"Ah, he'll be alright. This is the best thing that ever happened to him. Once he starts paying off the property and finds he can manage it without going bankrupt he'll stop worrying. In six months he'll be strutting around giving the Brethren good advice

about buying real estate in the city.

Look at this," he said, holding them up, "two more cheques in the mail. That advertisement is still working. I'll put it in The Age again after Christmas."

'Alright, but no lies this time. Don't mention those non-existent cash reserves.

Anyway.I might not be round in the future to give you good advice, I've been thinking, I might go back to the Old Dart and start again there. Then you'll be able to

advertise what you like.''

''What do you mean? What are you talking about?'' Pryor was shocked and upset.

''You can't go back to England. Why would you want to go there? You've got everything in front of you here. This country is going places. England's going nowhere. Forget it, I won't let you go!''

''Well, I don't want to go, but we're dealing here with a force stronger than either of

us, it's Amy

''Amy! What's Amy got to do with it?''

''I hope to marry her, and her parents are returning home soon. If she decides to go with them I go too. If she decides to stay I'll stay.''

''Well, that's easy fixed we'll give the Reverend a job here in the office. The way we're going we'll soon need someone else besides Pringle. Gabby, you can't leave, you're my anchor. Without you, I might do something stupid.''

''No James, Alfred wouldn't take a job here. He sees himself as an apostle, or a

missionary bringing the truth of the bible to foreign shores. He wouldn't want an

office job, he wants to convert the heathens.''

''Well, he can have a go at me, if he likes. I'm a heathen. I thinkDarwin was right when he said we're descended from monkeys. Look around, there are monkey types

everywhere.''

'Well, that's not a great deal of help. Amy's very strong-willed, as you may have noticed. If she tells the family she's not going, that's it, she won't go. But how would she feel after they've gone? She's broken up the family. Her parents have lost their daughter, perhaps their son if Harold decides to stay. She will feel awfully guilty after

doing that.''

'They can come out and visit.''

''The Taylors haven't got the time or money to be sailing around the world, Sir

Thomas tells me that the average travel time between here and London is. thirty-eight

days to get out here, thirty-eight days to get back, and they'd be traveling third class all the way. So we're looking at all the expense of getting here and home again with no money coming in. And there's the problem of finding cheap accommodation when they get here. Besides Alfred would probably lose his job as a vicar. They'd be

marooned on this side of the world without the money to go home.''

''I'll think of something'' said Pryor. ''But you're not going back to England, forget it.''

Fox changed the subject. "Now, about Benno," He said, "he wants his money back so

he can go to Sydney."

“When you see him tell him he can't have his money," James Pryor announced decisively. "You can't give him thirty quid, or whatever it is; he'll just piss it up against the wall, then he'll be too drunk to catch his boat. You mark my words it will all go in about a week and then he'll turn up at the office crying drunk and broke and ask you to bail him out. He's not the sort that should have money because if he gets it too easy he'll be in the pub all day or taking medicine. If he gets drunk he'll want to fight someone then he'll be picked up by the police, they'll recognize him and he'll go down for two years, or whatever it is, for smashing those windows. Another thing, when you see him tell him he doesn't own any part of the business. All you did was invest his money at interest and it's worth three quid a year and if he goes to Sydney we'll send him fifteen bobs a quarter. If he doesn't like the idea he can go to the police and

make a complaint."

Gabriel had to admit that this was a sensible view of Benno's weaknesses. "How will I

break the news to him?"

James Pryor put their finger and thumb into a waistcoat pocket and withdrew a gold coin.

"Here's half a sov, you put in a dollar and that will make it up to fifteen bobs. Tell him

that's his first quarter's payment and he's not getting another penny until the next

three months is up and if he annoys us he's not getting anything."

Back at the shop, a few customers had come in. There had been no more performances

and Mrs. Goss had not sold much.

Mr. Gladman had disappeared. After Gabriel left he mooned about the shop for a while with his mind elsewhere. He told Mrs. Goss that he was looking for his hat until she discovered it for him on his head; after mumbling something he went out, no doubt to have another look at the new acquisition. He returned later in the same state but Fox had, at last, learned how to break into his apathy. He showed him the day's splendid

takings and reminded him that the banks would close very soon.

Mr. Gladman, with some lightening of his gloom, sat down at his desk, entered the

deposit slips and departed in haste before the bank shut its doors.

Gabriel left for the day as soon as the man returned. He was to dine with the Taylors

at the boarding house and then escort Amy to the dance.

After he left two workmen, clearly resentful at having to turn out at that time of night,

had come and noisily nailed the panels back into place.

When it was done one of them came to the door of the shop. "That'll be ten bobs," he

said.

Mr. Gladman roused himself fiercely at this demand. "I will pay you nothing," he stated. ''I did not authorize you to come here and you are grossly overcharging. You

go to the person who employed you and collect your wages from him."

"Name of Pryor," enquired the workman. ''Yup, he said to collect off you."

"Then he was mistaken! Mr. Pryor is far too prone to take liberties with my name and credit; I am sick and tired of his high-handed methods. One way and another I can see he is going to do very well out of this affair. Just for a change let him

pay out of his profits."

The first man was joined by his mate who absent-mindedly rubbed the bridge of his

nose with a folding wooden rule.

"Yair! Well, we don't know about that. We have done the job like we were asked and we don't mind who pays as long as someone comes good with the ten bobs, but we want it tonight. The Royal Mail closes at ten and there's not much drinking time left. All things being equal we can't afford to hang around and we only come tonight because this Pryor feller talked us into it and it should be worth ten bobs. If it's not there's no problem. We can soon pull your screens down again." He turned to his mate who was clicking his tongue and making noises in the background to indicate his disgust at this setback. "Come on, Sam, get the jimmy outta the toolkit, we got work to do."

"You can't," cried Mr. Gladman "The thing is in place now and you can't touch it. If

you do I will step straight out into Bourke Street and call a constable."

"You'll have to be bloody quick," said the man. "Come on Sam, straight down with it."

They marched outside to carry out the threat.

"Wait, wait! You can have your ten shillings!" Mr. Gladman pursued the two men out

on to the footpath.

"You mean fifteen bobs, don't you," said the man relentlessly. They had dropped a bag

of tools on the footpath before doing the job and now he drew out a small crowbar,

with a clatter, from the other tools.

"This is monstrous!" cried Mr. Gladman, "It's extortion."

"Stand back," ordered the man, forcing the toe of the crowbar under the edge of the hoarding, while Sam stood by ready to use the claw of his hammer for the same purpose. "If we take it down and have to put it back up again it's going to cost a quid.

Ready, Sam --?"

"Stop, stop!" ordered the agitated shopkeeper and held out a gold coin. "Here you are,

here's half a sovereign. Just leave everything as it is."

The two men eyed him and his coin contemptuously. "Half a sov's not fifteen bobs. You keep this up and you won't get out of it under a quid. Now, come on Dad, what's it going to be? Fifteen bobs? A quid? Or nothing?"

In a rage, Mr. Gladman fished another five shillings from his pocket and grudgingly handed it over. He was thanked ironically and the man flipped the half-sovereign into the air. "Want to make it double or quits?"

Mr. Gladman bitterly ignored this offer and stamped into his shop as Mrs. Goss was

preparing to depart.

"When I see Pryor I shall demand that he pay me the fifteen shillings. He had no right to make any contracts on my behalf. I have had just about as much as I am willing to put up with from that young man, and I tell you now that tomorrow there will be no more vulgar and distasteful shows. I have built my business through the years with strict regard for decorum and proper business practices. This is the way both my

customers and I prefer to deal with each other."