Nobody
can do the trick but me."
"But you say you won't do it," ses John Biggs. "Not now," ses the
conjurer; "I can't."
"Well, I'm not going to 'ave my watch lost through want of trying," ses
John Biggs. "Tie 'im to the chair, mates."
"All right, then," ses the conjurer, very pale. "Don't tie me; I'll sit
still all right if you like, but you'd better bring the chair outside in
case of accidents. Bring it in the front."
George Kettle said it was all nonsense, but the conjurer said the trick
was always better done in the open air, and at last they gave way and
took 'im and the chair outside.
"Now," ses the conjurer, as 'e sat down, "all of you go and stand near
the man woe's going to shoot. When I say 'Three,' fire. Why! there's
the watch on the ground there!"
He pointed with 'is finger, and as they all looked down he jumped up out
o' that chair and set off on the road to Wickham as 'ard as 'e could run.
It was so sudden that nobody knew wot 'ad 'appened for a moment, and then
George Kettle, wot 'ad been looking with the rest, turned round and
pulled the trigger.
There was a bang that pretty nigh deafened us, and the back o' the chair
was blown nearly out. By the time we'd got our senses agin the conjurer
was a'most out o' sight, and Bob Pretty was explaining to John Biggs wot
a good job it was 'is watch 'adn't been a gold one.
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