He stood there panting in the rain, with his gnarled hand on the door.
He was an old tramp, and the heavy rain had drenched his worn clothing and was glistening on his beard.
Mrs Charmers softened immediately. She said, “Come in,” and gave him a chair. Then she bustled about the little kitchen and made him some hot food.
She glanced at the clock. It was 7:30pm. She pondered. Should she ask him to stay the night? Her husband Redge would be mad. But the tramp looked so pitiful, sitting there humble and alone. Yes, the guest would stay.
He gulped noisily at his meal and sucked away the dregs from his whiskers. “Rain’un, Missus. Rain’un.”
“Yes. You must dry yourself after.”
He guzzled again, then sighed. “Gunna be wet tonight, dunno where I’ll sleep.”
She hesitated, then said quickly, “You can sleep here, we have a spare room.”
The door swung open and into the kitchen strode Redge. “Gosh, it’s wet, .. some food … and …”
He stared at the bewhiskered face.
“Afternoon, sir,” the tramp ventured.
“Good day.” Redge stamped into the bedroom and began taking off his clothes.
And behind him his wife hovered nervously. “He’s so wet, Redge.”
“All right, all right. Just get that stench out of the house soon.”
She fidgetted, “Redge.”
“What, he’s staying the night.” Redge spun round. “Who the hell wouldn’t you trust?”
“Oh, Redge, he’s Just a harmless old tramp.”
He started to explode, then a gleam came into his eye as it fell on his wife’s purse which lay on the dressing table. “Perhaps you’re right. Maybe I’m a bit callous.”
She smiled. “That’s better, dear. A good deed won’t hurt us.”
“Of course not, darling.”
He kissed her lightly and went quickly to the bathroom.
Over the wash-basin, he turned things over in his mind. He needed just five pounds to make up the cash for his new suit. She had it in her purse. He could take it, and the tramp would be blamed. Redge began to whistle. The big dance was next week. “Boy,” he chuckled. “A new suit.”
He went outside with her after their meal and helped her bring in the cows. His wife was a fool. She left that old cove there to ransack the house. Redge started whistling again.
“You seem happy, dear,” she observed.
“Never been happier,” he smirked. “I was just thinking about the dance next week.”
She laughed. “It will be fun, dear. Only, … only I wish I had an evening frock.”
He took her hand, and walked along with her. “Don’t worry, sweet. I’ll like you just as well in a plain dress.”
Home again, they found the tramp sprawled on the sofa, smoking a pipe.
Redge resisted the urge to fling him out, and went nonchalantly into the bedroom. He listened. She was chatting with the old fellow. He clicked open the purse, and took the five green-backs. He grunted. Only four left, hard on her. Still, she shouldn’t trust tramps.
He crammed them in his pocket, and went back to the kitchen again. Everything was going fine. The thing would come off perfectly.
Later, when the tramp had gone to bed, Mrs Charmers listened to him humming contentedly. “He’s happy, Redge,” she said. “And it makes me happy to know it.”
Regde smiled. “Yes, he’s a happy old spark.”
Redge arose early next morning. He hammered on the tramp’s door and yelled that breakfast was ready. Then he took a cup of coffee in to his wife to prepare her for the shock.
After that, he simply saw the tramp through his meal, and wished him happy journeys.
And when, an hour later, his got up, the guest was out of sight down the road.
“Well, he’s gone,” Redge said easily.
She sighed. “A nice old man.”
“Yep. He said to thank you for everything.”
Again she sighed. “The old dear.”
Redge wagged his head. “Perhaps, my dear.”
She eyed him. “What do you mean, perhaps?”
“He might have robbed us, for all we know.”
“Rubbish.”
“Well, I’ve always found it pays to take stock before tramps go. But he was probably an honest one, thank God.”
She thought a while. Of course he was honest. But she might as well just look and see. Smiling whimsically, went into the bedroom and peeked in the purse.
Then she shrilled, “Redge!”
“Yes,” he yelled, running in with mock concern.
“My frock money! It’s gone!”
He gritted his teeth. “The dirty old rat!”
She slumped down on the bed. “Oh, Redge, what a fool I am?”
“I tell you,” he preached. “It doesn’t pay to be kind.”
He sauntered out, and opened his desk. He pushed the five notes in beside his savings. Then he spun round and rushed out in mad panic. “My money!”
She stared at him in very, very mock surprise?”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s gone, my ten dollars of savings!”
“The dirty old man,” she observed casually.
And a week later, she attended the dance in an expensive frock.
——- The End ——-
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