human
Yes--and no. It was the day before yesterday. Ross and Mr. Tavish were in the library going over some land accounts and looking at the weekly wages bill, which is part of Ross's work for Father that he's been doing the past two years. I was there, too, mending a damaged switch which wouldn't go right, and Ross had promised to help me when his business was finished. Well, when it was done, and they had smoked a cigarette together-- Mr. Tavish is awfully popular with the whole place, you know, Mr. Deland, and Ross liked him immensely--well, as I was saying, when they'd done, they came over to me, where I was tinkering away at the switch by the wall, and while Ross explained to me what exactly was the matter, Mr. Tavish stood over us and made remarks.
gpt
Can you remember what any of those remarks were?
human
Yes. He said he thought I was growing to be a clever youngster, with a turn for electricity which ought to drive my father nearly mad, and then he shook his head, and Ross laughed sort of uncomfortably, and agreed with him. And then Ross asked Mr. Tavish if he knew anything of electricity. 'Not a blessed thing!' Mr. Tavish said, with a loud laugh. 'I don't know the difference between a short circuit and a Bath bun.' And of course we all laughed again, and then Ross explained a little of it to him, and he seemed to catch on awfully quick, and asked some jolly interestin' questions.
gpt
And what were the 'jolly interestin' questions,' may I ask?
human
Oh-- I've really forgotten. Whether one could get a shock from that sort of thing when you were working at it, and Ross said you could; and electricity could kill a person instantly. And then they began to talk about electrocution and the electric chair which criminals had to sit in instead of being hanged, as they used to do in the old days. And Ross, who simply loves anything to do with the subject as much as I do, Mr. Deland, began to explain how a man could be killed by leaving a live wire somewhere near where he could grasp hold of it, and then taking a long piece of flexible wire in his hands, he wired it along the edge of the room from the ground plug to the window, just to show what he meant by it.
gpt
Oh, he did, did he? And what colour was the flexible wire?
human
Crimson. Usual shade. Mr. Tavish was awfully interested at what Ross did, and Ross got so enthusiastic that he carried the piece of wire up to the window and left the raw edge of the wire exposed, and when he put a piece of stuff against it, it singed up immediately, and, my word! there _was_ a stink!
gpt
Naturally. And then?
human
Ross said a lot of things about the power of electricity that seemed to interest Mr. Tavish, and of course _I_ was frightfully struck, as you can imagine, and kept my ears open. And just then, who should come in but Mother, and of course Ross and all of us stowed the conversation for the time being, and Ross nipped off the length of unnecessary wire with his pincers and left Mother with Tavish to discuss some changes she wanted made in the poultry runs. She's rather interested in chickens, you know, sir.
gpt
I see. But this was a bird of another colour, eh? What's that? No, my lad, you've said nothing to incriminate anybody, and I'll keep your confidence about this conversation, if you're worrying about it. Now, then, you'd better nip along, as it's nearly tea-time, and when I was your age clean hands were an absolute necessity even in the--er--austerity of my home! I've no doubt they're the same in yours.
human
But I haven't said anything to--to incriminate Ross, have I, sir? reiterated Cyril anxiously.
gpt
That thing about shooting a chap with the aid of electricity--of course it couldn't be done, I suppose, and Mr. Tavish didn't know enough about it to contradict Ross--and anyhow he was only gassing and not really meaning it at all. I--I'd give my right hand, sir, for Ross. He comes next to my mother in my estimation. And that's saying a good deal!
human
Not so much as you might think--if you know that lady as well as I do, my lad, apostrophized Cleek as the boy sped down the passageway and left him alone.
gpt
Gad! here's a new outlook altogether. And that conversation actually took place! He wasn't lying, the straight young devil. And he never realized that he was plunging that precious brother of his deeper and deeper into the mire!... I say-- Cyril!
human
Yes, sir?
gpt
By the way, what size shoes do you take? Gad! your foot's pretty hefty for a sixteen-year-old, I must say! What's the number of those delicate little trotters?
human
They are rather huge, aren't they? he replied.
gpt
But they're tens. Same size as Ross, you know, so that I can often borrow his shoes--and Captain Macdonald's as well. Funny we should all be the same size, isn't it?
human
Yes--deuced funny, returned Cleek, sucking in his lips suddenly and his face gone grim.
gpt
Tens--eh? Thought it was sixes for you and sevens for your brother.
human
Who the dickens told you that fairy-tale, sir?
gpt
Oh, nobody particular. I must have dreamt it, I suppose, returned Cleek with a shrug of the shoulders.
human
And-- I say, Cyril. Your man Jarvis seems to have trotters, too. What size are his boots now, I wonder?
gpt
You must have made a mistake, he said in a surprised voice.
human
For Jarvis's feet are awfully small. Eights, I believe. Anyway, I can't get 'em on because I tried once. Stole his dress clothes and dressed up in 'em. But the mater was furious! Hello! there's the tea-gong. I must be off!
gpt
Now, why the dickens did she lie to me--unless she wanted to shield her precious brother? he said ruminatively.
human
And why in heaven's name are they all so anxious to pervert Justice and to deny truth?