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THE GREAT NOTION

By JOHN BENN

Sltig Baskins, recognised kick-bite-and-gouge artist, and undisputed roughhouse champion of the unsavoury circles in which he usually moved, was footsore, aching and weary, yet, despite his pains, immoderately happy. His weariness was due to the fact that for the last forty-eight hours he had been diligently and successfully eluding the efforts of the police to recapture him and restore him to the bosom of the institution from which he had so recently escaped. His happiness might be attributed to his recognition of the astonishing good fortune dealt out by the gods when a' kindly and unsuspecting motorist assisted - him in placing many miles between him and his pursuers. It was more probably, however, due to the fact ia t ' n the deserted whare where he had gone to earth he had discovered an earthen-ware-jar containing half a gallon of finest maize-whisky. The jar, now sadly depleted, sat on the floor by the window. Beside it, a beatific smile playing across his unprepossessing features, reposed Mr. Baskins. Across the golden, sun-drenched landscape outside, all was peace and harmony. Appreciating this fact only insofar as it indicated a total absence of pursuers or policemen, Mr. Baskins leaned back againt the wall, and dozed peacefully. Mr. Baskins slithered slowly to the floor, and slept. . , . A little over an hour later, he awoke, sprang to his feet, and leapt across the room and disappeared behind the hanging curtains of a makeshift wardrobe in one complicated but silent gymnastic movement as a sound which to his keyed-up nerves seemed like nothing on earth so much as the report of a heavy revolver, but which in actuality was merely the slamming of the back door of the whare, split the stillness. Here, with a small slit in the curtain for a peephole, he held his breath and awaited developments. They were not long in forthcoming. The door of the room opened, and two capable-looking Maoris entered. With every appearance of legal ownership they 6et about making themselves comfortable. Mr. Baskins cursed fervently under his breath, and a cool perspiration broke out on his forehead as the taller of the two suddenly noticed the jar on the floor. He picked it up, peeped into ifr, then pointed accusingly at hi? companion, a short, chubby little man. " Pae Waioeka," he said disgustedly, "if you ain't the greediest little pig I never see! I don' go fifty yards down the road 'thout you must sneak in an' scoff all my grog!" Pae Waioeka was apparently accustomed to these baseless accusation:!. He sighed wearily before replying. " Aw, don' speak like to prize fool," be returned placidly. " You know darn well I been with you all day to-day. I expec' you been makin' such a hog of yourself on it you don' know when you didn't stop. How much you got left there, Wiremu ?" " Not so much as I want to," retorted Wiremu, replacing the jar on the shelf and entirely disregarding the broad hint. " I dunno, Pae—you might not took it—oh well, it don' matter much. An' now, Pae. you goin' to hear all 'bout it. You know w'at been worryin' me lately ?" Pae, gazing longingly at the jar, intimated that he was quite unaware of anything that might cause Wiremu perturbation. " It's 'bout that chap Big Hans Sprechttels, Pae." " Why ? W'at he's been doing ?" " Plenty," said Wiremu darkly. " You 'member that bar'l of grog we find on the beach?" -

" The one we bury, an' Hans dig up an' pinch off us ? Sure, I 'member him. I don' think I ever forget him for a long time." " An* you know w'at Hans been doin' with it ?" " Drinkin' it, I s'pose," returned Pae philosophically. u That w'at me, I'd do if I was Hans." " Well, he ain't," snapped Wiremu, " He's puttin' it in the bottles. An* he sells those bottle for five bob each." " The nice profits," murmured Pae. " Eah!" snorted Wiremu. " Don* all that money he's gettin' really belong to | us ? An' don' you care if that big Dutchy does us out of all our money?" "•Sure. I care," Pae replied indignantly. " But I don' see if it does you any good to worry 'bout it. You only go grey the lot quicker, I guess." " You mean, it don' do you no good to worry," pointed out Wiremu unpleasantly, " cause you ain't got nothin' to worry with. But when I worry,—l tell you, Pae, somethin' pretty soon begins to happen!" "It happen, all right," Pae agreed acidly. " You scoff your maize-whisky, an- then forget to offer any other feller w'at you got left. That w'at happen, seems like to me." " No, Pae. I tell you w'at happen. I get the great notion!" .. |'Uh?" " The notion—the great notion!" * Pae was impressed, but not overwhelmingly so "The great notion w'at 'bout?" he wanted to know. " Yes," continued Wiremu, all unheeding, " Wiremu Kupa got the grandes' notion you never see! I reckon by ten o'clock to-night we got mostly all our grog back, , an' the lot of bottle 3as well! How that strike you, Pae ?" Pae's pleased gurgle of inquiry was an eloquent reply. Wiremu, interpreting it correctly, plunged into explanations " Now, Pae, 'member that feller that escape from the gaol day before yesterday ?'* " I 'member him," agreed Pae. Behind the curtain of the wardrobe, Mr. Baskins' interest, which had begun to wane slightly, became suddenly intense and anxious. " All right, then, Pae. Now, tonight—" Wiremu's voice rose triumphantly, " you're him!" " Eh ?" demanded the startled Pao " I said, to-night you're him," explained Wiremu kindly. " I heard you," returned Pae shortly. " An' now I tell you, to-night I ain't him! I don* want to be him. I won't be hin\ W'at happen now?" Wiremu disposed of this disclaimer as of no account whatever. " You're him," he went on, " an' why ? 'Cause to-night, you're goin' across to Flans' place with your shotgun, an' you stick him up, then pinch all the grog. Bee?" " I see too blinkin' well," said Pae. " An' now, I got the other great notion, like this. To-night, you're him. I lend you my gun, an' you can take it round an' stick up Hans, an' then you pinch all the grog back yourself. That just as good a notion as yours, I guess.' " Listen to the blame fool!" Sniffed the disgusted Wiremu. " I don' know why I waste so much time tellin' him things. Now, Pae Waioeka, jus' you stick your ears in front an' listen t& me. Tonight I go to see Big Hans 'bout eight o'clock. I tell him I want to buy the half-dozen bottles of grog from him. He goes to where he hides it, which is w'at wo don' find out any other way, an' I

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bring it out to me. Then you come in with the big overcoat on an* the black handkerchief tied up across your face, stick the gun in Hans' tummy, an' say, 'Hands up, you two fellers! Carry out all .the grog an' put him on the pack-horse by the door!' Then Hans an' me, we jus' carry out all the grog an' put him on the horse, an' then all you got to do is bring it down here. - Get the notion Pae, his eyes like saucers, managed to make it clear that he really aid get the notion. To Mr. Baskins also, the plan was remarkably plain. Some gink with sly-grogging propensities was about to He defrauded by these two guys, who were in furtherance of their scheme, going, to make use of hjs identity. Well, decided Mr. Baskins, if the plan went awry, seeing that both would-bo defrauders and the going-to-be dejrauded were engaged on illegal operations, neither party would be able , to squeal if he took a ha id in the game. For if there was one thing necessary for his future well-being, it uas money. And Mr. Baskins reasoned tßat a pack-horse loaded , with liquor wculd command a ready sale almost anywhere, thus providing him amply for the immediate future. Mr. Baskins then definitely decided that with the assistance of Providence, they should not only have his identity, but also his delightful self in person. It would be a comparatively simple matter to track the little gink to his home, create Rome diversion which would get him out of the house for a while—such as informing him that he was wanted down the road—slip inside, and put all the clocks back, or some similar artifice. That would be the simplest part of it. And then—

He ceased his mental acrobatics as Wiremu and Pae commenced to discuss the scheme in all its aspects, polishing it, elaborating it, arranging the details. When at last both were satisfied that it was complete, they arsoe, and went down to the roadside gate. Here Wiremu put forward a last suggestion. " I guess," he said thoughtfully, " we better have the li'l bit of a scrap to finish up with, eh? If we don't, ol' Hans might guess who we are, an' then we're in the soup. W'at you think, Pae?" Pae looked at him apprehensively. " W'at you mean, the little bit of a scrap?" he enquired anxiously. It was his experience that on occasions such as these Wiremu had been known to err on the side of generosity. Oh, nothin' much," shrugged Wiremu. " I give you the signal by winking at you, an' then I make the almighty swipe. You duck pretty quick, then give me the shove, an' I fall over in Hans' road so ho can't stop you. Then you clear oat with the horse. That be all right ?" » " I don' mind that sort of scrap," admitted Pae. " But don' you forget to wink, Wiremu, or by Joe—" I won t forget, Pae. Now, hop off. Ad' remember—l wink, you duck—quick —then give me the push. That clear? Right. Five past eight to-night, Pae, an' don' you be late, or—" He explained exactly and with extravagant attention to detail every misfortune which should befall him if he proved so tardy as to prevent the smooth functioning of the plan. Pae, however, was so immersed in rehearsing his share in the coming action that he paid very little attention to him, and when, a few minutes later, he was riding homeward, he had only a very vague notion that Wiremu would be somehow unhappy or displeased if he did something. " That feller Wiremu, he talks too much," he decidod at last., and dismissed it from his mind. Wiremu, too, was deeply preoccupied as lie returned to his whare—so deeply preoccupied that he entirely failed to see a figure slip stealthily around the corner of the house, and make its cautious way down to the hedge which bordered the road. It gained its objective imf bS f < ; rV f d ' l , h f n - after a moment's rest, tiotted swiftly in the Nvake of the unsuspecting Pae. Big Hans Sprechtels voiced an objection which always crept into his mind wheneve„.he was approached by either Pae or Wiremu with a suggestion for a transaction of any sort. It soundt like der foony pizness to me, he said slowly. Some subtle instinct informed h.m that there was a niccer concealed somewhere in Wiremu's verbal woodpile, but the very openness of Wiremu s request made the location of the aloresajd nigger rather difficult. W'at you find so funny 'bout that?" demanded the justly-incensed Wiremu I hear you sell the bottles of grog 'for five bob each, don' I? Well, then, I come here to buy the eight bottle from l 0 y0U; Wat you find to laugh at in that

I don'd mean foony for der laugh," said Hans. " Still—vere der two quid ?" Wiremu, deeming such unworthy suspicions as beneath contempt, merely placed two pound notes on the table. „ righd," Hans agreed unwillingly. Shust von minute, und I get him for you." Picking up the candle, he rolled lumberingly across to the huge fireplace. Painfully he bent down, then straightened, and partially disappeared inside it. A few seconds later, he reappeared holding hand two naked brown bottles. " I put der shelf in dere," .he explained, " so der grog to' haff handy at night vender peoples kom to t buy. In : der daytime, I put in a tifferent blace but—der Teufel!" " Eh ?" said Wiremu, interested. " Put the devil—where?" r Hans did not reply. He stared past Wiremu with bulging eyes, and slowly elevated his hands until they were stretched high above his head. Wiremu spun around, and, acting his part very creditably, voiced a startled and unseemly oath. The masked figure in the overcoat, not satisfied with the tardiness with which he followed the example of the discreet Hans, dug him forcibly' in the midriff with the business end of the shotgun. Wiremu yelped sharply, raised his hands, and made a mental note'to suitably and painfully reward Pae for that unnecessary prod when opportunity occurred. " Put 'em—up!" snapped the figure. Wiremu quivered with artistic appreciation. No-one would recognise in that harsh, throaty snarl the soft voice of the amiable Pae. After an effort such as that, Pae almost deserved to be forgiven tor his over-enthusiasm in the matter. Yes, Pae was certainly earning his forgiveness. " Now, trot out that booze—all of it," ordered the newcomer. "Hurry up, Fatty. Stick it in the cases on the packhorse by the door, there. You 'too, Skinny. Look snappy !'* " Ach, nein, nein," wailed Hans. " Blease , blease mynheer ropper, do nod my grog binch away! I will giff you—" " Hop to it," ordered the masked figure implacably. "You—Skinny! .Move!" Wiremu moved, a puzzled frown drawing down his brows. Where on earth had Pae acquired that vile twang ? And had he grown taller ? It could not be, he decided. It was merely that Pae was acting his part as superbly that Wiremu's fancy was led , into playing tricks. Good old Pae!" ' Working with a will, he assisted the lamenting Hans in the task of removing the bottles and carrying them out to the pack-horse. Armful after armful they transferred, until at last Hans' supply of liquor was stacked in the cases outside, nor was there left a single survivor. Wiremu himself carted out the last three bottles. He placed them with lovii.g care on top of the nearly-full cases/ and then returned to the cottage. The time had come when any tiny germ of suspicion that Hans might have conceived must be annihilated once and for all. So

far, things had gone swimmingly. Wiremu resolved that it would not be his fault if the final scene was not done faithfully and well. . He walked purposefully in the door, and winked and winked again at the masked figure, wlrch merely stared back with a puzzled frown. Then, putting his heart and . soul into the job, W.iremu lashed out viciously at the, bandit. * Here it was, that the plan began to run awry. There was a resounding smack that jarred every bone in Wiremu's arm, and a stream of lurid profanity instantly followed The figure failed to duck, and received a tremendous blow on the sidfl of the jaw. The shot-gun roared off with a report like a howitzer, and a hail of shot ricochetted around the room. Had Wiremu's last suggestion been discussed within earshot of the amiable " Slug " Baskins, it is more 1 than probable that' things might have turned out very differently. As it happened, Mr. Baskins?. was entirely unaware that anything untoward was about to happen until Wiremu's flailing fist took .him high up on the jaw. Wiremu, on the other hand, was thoroughly enraged, not only by his assis4ant's • stupid lack of promptitude, but also by the fact that the blast of the shotgun had singed his hair, a ricochetting pellet had lodged forcibly and painfully in his leg, and—the last straw—a startled whinny, followed by a musical .clinking told him only too plainly that the pack-horse, frightened by the report, had trotted off into the night. There could be no shadow of a doubt but that Pae deserved a lesson that he would, not forgot in a hurry. Very well, then. He should have it. And so, forgetful of time and place, Wiremu threw discretion to the winds and set about the masked figure with passionate enthusiasm. And then . . . .

Not for nothing had Mr. Baskins been nicknamed " Slug,"—a contraction of " Slugger." Wiremu suddenly discovered that the air was charged with a red mist of pain, out of which two mighty fists leapt to smite and smite again with the tireless energy of a steam pile-driver. Thrice the wall—or was it the floor ? smote him forcibly on the back of the head aa he rebounded off those knobbly hands. Out-classed, out-fought, he did not see Mr. Baskins step back, measure the distance carefully, and swing. He had a last sensation of stunning shock, and then the world upended and vanished in d dazzling flash of orange flame. And as he slid like a collapsing concertina to the floor, his opponent, deeming the time ripe, made an exit that was compensated by speed for what it lacked in dramatic triumph. Pae hurrying up the path to Hans' cottage, was the second person to feel the weight of Mr. Baskins' authority that night. A flying figure struck him amidships, bowling him over like a ninepin, and passed on without explanation or apology. Gasping for breath, Pae picked himself up again, and hurried on. Rapidly he adjusted his mask, then stepped into the doorway " Han's up, you two fellers—" began Pae, then gasped with amazement. That battered wreck there —that wasn't Wire mu ? It couldn't be—

," Pae," said Wiremu, hoisting himself shakily to his feet, his voice low and ominously soft, " you're late, Pae!" " I know, Wiremu. Some feller pat my clock back, an' I just find out now. So I hurry over—" "You're late, Pae," said Wiremu monotonously... " An' 'cause you're late you spoilt all my grand notion, an' 1 got the Sam Hill of a hiding, an', you lost your pack-horse. Now. you 'member w'at ; I tell you happen to you if you come late ?" " But listen, Wiremu —" expostulated Pae. " You 'member w'at I tell you !" " Yes, but—" "It's gain' to happen—now!" said Wiremu. And it was even so . . . »#•»*» In Wiremu's opinion, the cup of bitterness was not merely full—it was brimming over, and could contain not another drop of gall. His great notion had conie to naught. He. had received a sound hammering from some person whose identity was an absolute mystery. And—he had fallen out with Pae. That, he soliloquised bitterly, was all that could happen. He was mistaken. At perhaps nine o'clock on the morning following the tradegy, the telephone tinkled sharply. With weary lack of intferest he picked up the receiver. " That you, Wiremu ?" enquired the telephone. " That me," acquiesced Wiremu cheerlessly. " Who there?" " Pae here, Wiremu. I jus' rang up to tell you your great notion work out all right,' after all." " Uh ?" said Wiremn unbelievingly. " Sure, she work out. Nex' time 1 guess you don' get so keen to give your ol' friend the beating-up, seems like to me." " How you mean, she work out," enquired the skeptical Wiremu. " That feller get away with the pack-horse—" " He does, does he?" Pae said unpleasantly. " Well, that the funny thing. 'Cause w'en I get home, I fin my pack horse waiting outside the gate—an' he's got all the grog on him, too." " Gaw !" ejaculated Wiremu. Swiftly recovering from his astonishment, he im mediately recognised the necessity for soothing Pae's feelings. " Well, well, Pae," he said genially. "That very nice indeed. 1 know you don' have the hard feelings about last night, an* I'm sorry I lose the temper —" Pae had been to the talkies, and consequently found himself in possession of a vocabulary quite adequate for the occasion. " Bla-a-ah! Raz-z-berries!" said Pae.

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Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZH19320729.2.184

Bibliographic details

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIX, Issue 21247, 29 July 1932, Page 16

Word Count
3,318

THE GREAT NOTION New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIX, Issue 21247, 29 July 1932, Page 16

THE GREAT NOTION New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIX, Issue 21247, 29 July 1932, Page 16