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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/11184-0.txt b/11184-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1277a31 --- /dev/null +++ b/11184-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,538 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11184 *** + +CAPTAINS ALL + +By W.W. Jacobs + + + +THE CONSTABLE'S MOVE + +[Illustration: "The Constable's Move."] + +Mr. Bob Grummit sat in the kitchen with his corduroy-clad legs stretched +on the fender. His wife's half-eaten dinner was getting cold on the +table; Mr. Grummit, who was badly in need of cheering up, emptied her +half-empty glass of beer and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. + +"Come away, I tell you," he called. "D'ye hear? Come away. You'll be +locked up if you don't." + +He gave a little laugh at the sarcasm, and sticking his short pipe in his +mouth lurched slowly to the front-room door and scowled at his wife as +she lurked at the back of the window watching intently the furniture +which was being carried in next door. + +"Come away or else you'll be locked up," repeated Mr. Grummit. "You +mustn't look at policemen's furniture; it's agin the law." + +Mrs. Grummit made no reply, but, throwing appearances to the winds, +stepped to the window until her nose touched, as a walnut sideboard with +bevelled glass back was tenderly borne inside under the personal +supervision of Police-Constable Evans. + +"They'll be 'aving a pianner next," said the indignant Mr. Grummit, +peering from the depths of the room. + +"They've got one," responded his wife; "there's the end if it stickin' up +in the van." + +Mr. Grummit advanced and regarded the end fixedly. "Did you throw all +them tin cans and things into their yard wot I told you to?" he demanded. + +"He picked up three of 'em while I was upstairs," replied his wife. "I +'eard 'im tell her that they'd come in handy for paint and things." + +"That's 'ow coppers get on and buy pianners," said the incensed Mr. +Grummit, "sneaking other people's property. I didn't tell you to throw +good 'uns over, did I? Wot d'ye mean by it?" + +Mrs. Grummit made no reply, but watched with bated breath the triumphal +entrance of the piano. The carman set it tenderly on the narrow +footpath, while P. C. Evans, stooping low, examined it at all points, and +Mrs. Evans, raising the lid, struck a few careless chords. + +"Showing off," explained Mrs. Grummit, with a half turn; "and she's got +fingers like carrots." + +"It's a disgrace to Mulberry Gardens to 'ave a copper come and live in +it," said the indignant Grummit; "and to come and live next to me!-- +that's what I can't get over. To come and live next door to a man wot +has been fined twice, and both times wrong. Why, for two pins I'd go in +and smash 'is pianner first and 'im after it. He won't live 'ere long, +you take my word for it." + +"Why not?" inquired his wife. + +"Why?" repeated Mr. Grummit. "Why? Why, becos I'll make the place too +'ot to hold him. Ain't there enough houses in Tunwich without 'im +a-coming and living next door to me?" + +For a whole week the brain concealed in Mr. Grummit's bullet-shaped head +worked in vain, and his temper got correspondingly bad. The day after +the Evans' arrival he had found his yard littered with tins which he +recognized as old acquaintances, and since that time they had travelled +backwards and forwards with monotonous regularity. They sometimes made +as many as three journeys a day, and on one occasion the heavens opened +to drop a battered tin bucket on the back of Mr. Grummit as he was tying +his bootlace. Five minutes later he spoke of the outrage to Mr. Evans, +who had come out to admire the sunset. + +"I heard something fall," said the constable, eyeing the pail curiously. + +"You threw it," said Mr. Grummit, breathing furiously. + +"Me? Nonsense," said the other, easily. "I was having tea in the +parlour with my wife and my mother-in-law, and my brother Joe and his +young lady." + +"Any more of 'em?" demanded the hapless Mr. Grummit, aghast at this list +of witnesses for an alibi. + +"It ain't a bad pail, if you look at it properly," said the constable. +"I should keep it if I was you; unless the owner offers a reward for it. +It'll hold enough water for your wants." + +Mr. Grummit flung indoors and, after wasting some time concocting +impossible measures of retaliation with his sympathetic partner, went off +to discuss affairs with his intimates at the _Bricklayers' Arms_. The +company, although unanimously agreeing that Mr. Evans ought to be boiled, +were miserably deficient in ideas as to the means by which such a +desirable end was to be attained. + +"Make 'im a laughing-stock, that's the best thing," said an elderly +labourer. "The police don't like being laughed at." + +"'Ow?" demanded Mr. Grummit, with some asperity. + +"There's plenty o' ways," said the old man. + +"I should find 'em out fast enough if I 'ad a bucket dropped on my back, +I know." + +Mr. Grummit made a retort the feebleness of which was somewhat balanced +by its ferocity, and subsided into glum silence. His back still ached, +but, despite that aid to intellectual effort, the only ways he could +imagine of making the constable look foolish contained an almost certain +risk of hard labour for himself. + +He pondered the question for a week, and meanwhile the tins--to the +secret disappointment of Mr. Evans--remained untouched in his yard. For +the whole of the time he went about looking, as Mrs. Grummit expressed +it, as though his dinner had disagreed with him. + +"I've been talking to old Bill Smith," he said, suddenly, as he came in +one night. + +Mrs. Grummit looked up, and noticed with wifely pleasure that he was +looking almost cheerful. + +"He's given me a tip," said Mr. Grummit, with a faint smile; "a copper +mustn't come into a free-born Englishman's 'ouse unless he's invited." + +"Wot of it?" inquired his wife. "You wasn't think of asking him in, was +you?" + +Mr. Grummit regarded her almost play-fully. "If a copper comes in +without being told to," he continued, "he gets into trouble for it. Now +d'ye see?" + +"But he won't come," said the puzzled Mrs. Grummit. + +Mr. Grummit winked. "Yes 'e will if you scream loud enough," he +retorted. "Where's the copper-stick?" + +"Have you gone mad?" demanded his wife, "or do you think I 'ave?" + +"You go up into the bedroom," said Mr. Grummit, emphasizing his remarks +with his forefinger. "I come up and beat the bed black and blue with the +copper-stick; you scream for mercy and call out 'Help!' 'Murder!' and +things like that. Don't call out 'Police!' cos Bill ain't sure about +that part. Evans comes bursting in to save your life--I'll leave the +door on the latch--and there you are. He's sure to get into trouble for +it. Bill said so. He's made a study o' that sort o' thing." + +Mrs. Grummit pondered this simple plan so long that her husband began to +lose patience. At last, against her better sense, she rose and fetched +the weapon in question. + +"And you be careful what you're hitting," she said, as they went upstairs +to bed. "We'd better have 'igh words first, I s'pose?" + +"You pitch into me with your tongue," said Mr. Grummit, amiably. + +Mrs. Grummit, first listening to make sure that the constable and his +wife were in the bedroom the other side of the flimsy wall, complied, and +in a voice that rose gradually to a piercing falsetto told Mr. Grummit +things that had been rankling in her mind for some months. She raked up +misdemeanours that he had long since forgotten, and, not content with +that, had a fling at the entire Grummit family, beginning with her +mother-in-law and ending with Mr. Grummit's youngest sister. The hand +that held the copper-stick itched. + +"Any more to say?" demanded Mr. Grummit advancing upon her. + +Mrs. Grummit emitted a genuine shriek, and Mr. Grummit, suddenly +remembering himself, stopped short and attacked the bed with +extraordinary fury. The room resounded with the blows, and the efforts +of Mrs. Grummit were a revelation even to her husband. + +[Illustration: "Mr. Grummit, suddenly remembering himself, stopped short +and attacked the bed with extraordinary fury."] + +"I can hear 'im moving," whispered Mr. Grummit, pausing to take breath. + +"Mur--der!" wailed his wife. "Help! Help!" + +Mr. Grummit, changing the stick into his left hand, renewed the attack; +Mrs. Grummit, whose voice was becoming exhausted, sought a temporary +relief in moans. + +"Is--he----deaf?" panted the wife-beater, "or wot?" + +He knocked over a chair, and Mrs. Grummit contrived another frenzied +scream. A loud knocking sounded on the wall. + +"Hel--lp!" moaned Mrs. Grummit. + +"Halloa, there!" came the voice of the constable. "Why don't you keep +that baby quiet? We can't get a wink of sleep." + +Mr. Grummit dropped the stick on the bed and turned a dazed face to his +wife. + +"He--he's afraid--to come in," he gasped. "Keep it up, old gal." + +He took up the stick again and Mrs. Grummit did her best, but the heart +had gone out of the thing, and he was about to give up the task as +hopeless when the door below was heard to open with a bang. + +"Here he is," cried the jubilant Grummit. "Now!" + +His wife responded, and at the same moment the bedroom door was flung +open, and her brother, who had been hastily fetched by the neighbours on +the other side, burst into the room and with one hearty blow sent Mr. +Grummit sprawling. + +"Hit my sister, will you?" he roared, as the astounded Mr. Grummit rose. +"Take that!" + +Mr. Grummit took it, and several other favours, while his wife, tugging +at her brother, endeavoured to explain. It was not, however, until Mr. +Grummit claimed the usual sanctuary of the defeated by refusing to rise +that she could make herself heard. + +"Joke?" repeated her brother, incredulously. "Joke?" + +Mrs. Grummit in a husky voice explained. + +Her brother passed from incredulity to amazement and from amazement to +mirth. He sat down gurgling, and the indignant face of the injured +Grummit only added to his distress. + +"Best joke I ever heard in my life," he said, wiping his eyes. "Don't +look at me like that, Bob; I can't bear it." + +"Get off 'ome," responded Mr. Grummit, glowering at him. + +"There's a crowd outside, and half the doors in the place open," said the +other. "Well, it's a good job there's no harm done. So long." + +He passed, beaming, down the stairs, and Mr. Grummit, drawing near the +window, heard him explaining in a broken voice to the neighbours outside. +Strong men patted him on the back and urged him gruffly to say what he +had to say and laugh afterwards. Mr. Grummit turned from the window, and +in a slow and stately fashion prepared to retire for the night. Even the +sudden and startling disappearance of Mrs. Grummit as she got into bed +failed to move him. + +"The bed's broke, Bob," she said faintly. + +"Beds won't last for ever," he said, shortly; "sleep on the floor." + +Mrs. Grummit clambered out, and after some trouble secured the bedclothes +and made up a bed in a corner of the room. In a short time she was fast +asleep; but her husband, broad awake, spent the night in devising further +impracticable schemes for the discomfiture of the foe next door. + +He saw Mr. Evans next morning as he passed on his way to work. The +constable was at the door smoking in his shirt-sleeves, and Mr. Grummit +felt instinctively that he was waiting there to see him pass. + +"I heard you last night," said the constable, playfully. "My word! Good +gracious!" + +"Wot's the matter with you?" demanded Mr. Grummit, stopping short. + +The constable stared at him. "She has been knocking you about," he +gasped. "Why, it must ha' been you screaming, then! I thought it +sounded loud. Why don't you go and get a summons and have her locked up? +I should be pleased to take her." + +Mr. Grummit faced him, quivering with passion. "Wot would it cost if I +set about you?" he demanded, huskily. + +"Two months," said Mr. Evans, smiling serenely; "p'r'aps three." + +Mr. Grummit hesitated and his fists clenched nervously. The constable, +lounging against his door-post, surveyed him with a dispassionate smile. +"That would be besides what you'd get from me," he said, softly. + +"Come out in the road," said Mr. Grummit, with sudden violence. + +"It's agin the rules," said Mr. Evans; "sorry I can't. Why not go and +ask your wife's brother to oblige you?" + +He went in laughing and closed the door, and Mr. Grummit, after a +frenzied outburst, proceeded on his way, returning the smiles of such +acquaintances as he passed with an icy stare or a strongly-worded offer +to make them laugh the other side of their face. The rest of the day he +spent in working so hard that he had no time to reply to the anxious +inquiries of his fellow-workmen. + +He came home at night glum and silent, the hardship of not being able to +give Mr. Evans his deserts without incurring hard labour having weighed +on his spirits all day. To avoid the annoyance of the piano next door, +which was slowly and reluctantly yielding up "_The Last Rose of Summer_" +note by note, he went out at the back, and the first thing he saw was Mr. +Evans mending his path with tins and other bric-a-brac. + +"Nothing like it," said the constable, looking up. "Your missus gave 'em +to us this morning. A little gravel on top, and there you are." + +He turned whistling to his work again, and the other, after endeavouring +in vain to frame a suitable reply, took a seat on an inverted wash-tub +and lit his pipe. His one hope was that Constable Evans was going to try +and cultivate a garden. + +The hope was realized a few days later, and Mr. Grummit at the back +window sat gloating over a dozen fine geraniums, some lobelias and +calceolarias, which decorated the constable's plot of ground. He could +not sleep for thinking of them. + +He rose early the next morning, and, after remarking to Mrs. Grummit that +Mr. Evans's flowers looked as though they wanted rain, went off to his +work. The cloud which had been on his spirits for some time had lifted, +and he whistled as he walked. The sight of flowers in front windows +added to his good humour. + +He was still in good spirits when he left off work that afternoon, but +some slight hesitation about returning home sent him to the Brick-layers' +firms instead. He stayed there until closing time, and then, being still +disinclined for home, paid a visit to Bill Smith, who lived the other +side of Tunwich. By the time he started for home it was nearly midnight. + +The outskirts of the town were deserted and the houses in darkness. The +clock of Tunwich church struck twelve, and the last stroke was just dying +away as he turned a corner and ran almost into the arms of the man he had +been trying to avoid. + +"Halloa!" said Constable Evans, sharply. "Here, I want a word with you." + +Mr. Grummit quailed. "With me, sir?" he said, with involuntary respect. + +"What have you been doing to my flowers?" demanded the other, hotly. + +"Flowers?" repeated Mr. Grummit, as though the word were new to him. +"Flowers? What flowers?" + +"You know well enough," retorted the constable. "You got over my fence +last night and smashed all my flowers down." + +"You be careful wot you're saying," urged Mr. Grummit. "Why, I love +flowers. You don't mean to tell me that all them beautiful flowers wot +you put in so careful 'as been spoiled?" + +"You know all about it," said the constable, choking. "I shall take out +a summons against you for it." + +"Ho!" said Mr. Grummit. "And wot time do you say it was when I done it?" + +"Never you mind the time," said the other. + +"Cos it's important," said Mr. Grummit. + +"My wife's brother--the one you're so fond of--slept in my 'ouse last +night. He was ill arf the night, pore chap; but, come to think of it, +it'll make 'im a good witness for my innocence." + +"If I wasn't a policeman," said Mr. Evans, speaking with great +deliberation, "I'd take hold o' you, Bob Grummit, and I'd give you the +biggest hiding you've ever had in your life." + +"If you wasn't a policeman," said Mr. Grummit, yearningly, "I'd arf +murder you." + +The two men eyed each other wistfully, loth to part. + +"If I gave you what you deserve I should get into trouble," said the +constable. + +"If I gave you a quarter of wot you ought to 'ave I should go to quod," +sighed Mr. Grummit. + +"I wouldn't put you there," said the constable, earnestly; "I swear I +wouldn't." + +"Everything's beautiful and quiet," said Mr. Grummit, trembling with +eagerness, "and I wouldn't say a word to a soul. I'll take my solemn +davit I wouldn't." + +"When I think o' my garden--" began the constable. With a sudden +movement he knocked off Mr. Grummit's cap, and then, seizing him by the +coat, began to hustle him along the road. In the twinkling of an eye +they had closed. + +Tunwich church chimed the half-hour as they finished, and Mr. Grummit, +forgetting his own injuries, stood smiling at the wreck before him. The +constable's helmet had been smashed and trodden on; his uniform was torn +and covered with blood and dirt, and his good looks marred for a +fortnight at least. He stooped with a groan, and, recovering his helmet, +tried mechanically to punch it into shape. He stuck the battered relic +on his head, and Mr. Grummit fell back--awed, despite himself. + +"It was a fair fight," he stammered. + +The constable waved him away. "Get out o' my sight before I change my +mind," he said, fiercely; "and mind, if you say a word about this it'll +be the worse for you." + +"Do you think I've gone mad?" said the other. He took another look at +his victim and, turning away, danced fantastically along the road home. +The constable, making his way to a gas-lamp, began to inspect damages. + +They were worse even than he had thought, and, leaning against the +lamp-post, he sought in vain for an explanation that, in the absence of a +prisoner, would satisfy the inspector. A button which was hanging by a +thread fell tinkling on to the footpath, and he had just picked it up and +placed it in his pocket when a faint distant outcry broke upon his ear. + +He turned and walked as rapidly as his condition would permit in the +direction of the noise. It became louder and more imperative, and cries +of "Police!" became distinctly audible. He quickened into a run, and +turning a corner beheld a little knot of people standing at the gate of a +large house. Other people only partially clad were hastening to-wards +them. The constable arrived out of breath. + +"Better late than never," said the owner of the house, sarcastically. + +Mr. Evans, breathing painfully, supported himself with his hand on the +fence. + +"They went that way, but I suppose you didn't see them," continued the +householder. "Halloa!" he added, as somebody opened the hall door and +the constable's damaged condition became visible in the gas-light. "Are +you hurt?" + +"Yes," said Mr. Evans, who was trying hard to think clearly. To gain +time he blew a loud call on his whistle. + +"The rascals!" continued the other. "I think I should know the big chap +with a beard again, but the others were too quick for me." + +Mr. Evans blew his whistle again--thoughtfully. The opportunity seemed +too good to lose. + +"Did they get anything?" he inquired. + +"Not a thing," said the owner, triumphantly. "I was disturbed just in +time." + +The constable gave a slight gulp. "I saw the three running by the side +of the road," he said, slowly. "Their behaviour seemed suspicious, so I +collared the big one, but they set on me like wild cats. They had me +down three times; the last time I laid my head open against the kerb, and +when I came to my senses again they had gone." + +He took off his battered helmet with a flourish and, amid a murmur of +sympathy, displayed a nasty cut on his head. A sergeant and a constable, +both running, appeared round the corner and made towards' them. + +"Get back to the station and make your report," said the former, as +Constable Evans, in a somewhat defiant voice, repeated his story. +"You've done your best; I can see that." + +Mr. Evans, enacting to perfection the part of a wounded hero, limped +painfully off, praying devoutly as he went that the criminals might make +good their escape. If not, he reflected that the word of a policeman was +at least equal to that of three burglars. + +He repeated his story at the station, and, after having his head dressed, +was sent home and advised to keep himself quiet for a day or two. He was +off duty for four days, and, the Tunwich Gazette having devoted a column +to the affair, headed "A Gallant Constable," modestly secluded himself +from the public gaze for the whole of that time. + +To Mr. Grummit, who had read the article in question until he could have +repeated it backwards, this modesty was particularly trying. The +constable's yard was deserted and the front door ever closed. Once Mr. +Grummit even went so far as to tap with his nails on the front parlour +window, and the only response was the sudden lowering of the blind. It +was not until a week afterwards that his eyes were gladdened by a sight +of the constable sitting in his yard; and fearing that even then he might +escape him, he ran out on tip-toe and put his face over the fence before +the latter was aware of his presence. + +"Wot about that 'ere burglary?" he demanded in truculent tones. + +"Good evening, Grummit," said the constable, with a patronizing air. + +"Wot about that burglary?" repeated Mr. Grummit, with a scowl. "I don't +believe you ever saw a burglar." + +Mr. Evans rose and stretched himself gracefully. "You'd better run +indoors, my good man," he said, slowly. + +"Telling all them lies about burglars," continued the indignant Mr. +Grummit, producing his newspaper and waving it. "Why, I gave you that +black eye, I smashed your 'elmet, I cut your silly 'ead open, I----" + +"You've been drinking," said the other, severely. + +"You mean to say I didn't?" demanded Mr. Grummit, ferociously. + +Mr. Evans came closer and eyed him steadily. "I don't know what you're +talking about," he said, calmly. + +Mr. Grummit, about to speak, stopped appalled at such hardihood. + +"Of course, if you mean to say that you were one o' them burglars," +continued the constable, "why, say it and I'll take you with pleasure. +Come to think of it, I did seem to remember one o' their voices." + +Mr. Grummit, with his eyes fixed on the other's, backed a couple of yards +and breathed heavily. + +"About your height, too, he was," mused the constable. "I hope for your +sake you haven't been saying to anybody else what you said to me just +now." + +Mr. Grummit shook his head. "Not a word," he faltered. + +"That's all right, then," said Mr. Evans. "I shouldn't like to be hard +on a neighbour; not that we shall be neighbours much longer." + +Mr. Grummit, feeling that a reply was expected of him, gave utterance to +a feeble "Oh!" + +"No," said Mr. Evans, looking round disparagingly. "It ain't good enough +for us now; I was promoted to sergeant this morning. A sergeant can't +live in a common place like this." + +Mr. Grummit, a prey to a sickening fear, drew near the fence again. "A-- +a sergeant?" he stammered. + +Mr. Evans smiled and gazed carefully at a distant cloud. "For my bravery +with them burglars the other night, Grummit," he said, modestly. "I +might have waited years if it hadn't been for them." + +He nodded to the frantic Grummit and turned away; Mr. Grummit, without +any adieu at all, turned and crept back to the house. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Constable's Move, by W.W. Jacobs + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11184 *** diff --git a/11184-h.zip b/11184-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..233b719 --- /dev/null +++ b/11184-h.zip diff --git a/11184-h/006.jpg b/11184-h/006.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cf00058 --- /dev/null +++ b/11184-h/006.jpg diff --git a/11184-h/007.jpg b/11184-h/007.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b104ca8 --- /dev/null +++ b/11184-h/007.jpg diff --git a/11184-h/11184-h.htm b/11184-h/11184-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..36a9dba --- /dev/null +++ b/11184-h/11184-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1235 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" + content="text/html; charset=us-ascii"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of + Captains All, + by W.W. Jacobs, Book 4. +</title> +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {background:#faebd7;} + * { font-family: Times; + } + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin: 15%; + margin-top: .75em; + font-size: 14pt; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; color:#A82C28;} + HR { width: 33%; } + PRE { font-family: Courier, monospaced;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; font-size: 14pt; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + // --> +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Constable's Move, by W.W. Jacobs + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Constable's Move + Captains All, Book 4. + +Author: W.W. Jacobs + +Release Date: February 20, 2004 [EBook #11184] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONSTABLE'S MOVE *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1> + CAPTAINS ALL +</h1> +<br /> +<h2> + By W.W. Jacobs +</h2> +<br /><br /> + +<center> +<h2>Book 4.</h2> +</center> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="title (79K)" src="title.jpg" height="884" width="533" /> +</center> +<br><br> + +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="frontis (94K)" src="frontis.jpg" height="906" width="532" /> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<br /><br /> +<hr> +<br /><br /> + +<h2>List of Illustrations</h2> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + + + + +<p class="toc"><a href="#image-6"> +"The Constable's Move." +</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#image-7"> +"Mr. Grummit, Suddenly Remembering Himself, Stopped Short +And Attacked the Bed With Extraordinary Fury." +</a></p> + + + + + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<br /><br /> +<hr> + + + + + +<a name="2H_4_4"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h2> + THE CONSTABLE'S MOVE +</h2> +<a name="image-6"><!--IMG--></a> +<center> +<img src="006.jpg" height="475" width="541" +alt="'the Constable's Move.' +"> +</center> +<!--IMAGE END--> +<p> + Mr. Bob Grummit sat in the kitchen with his corduroy-clad legs stretched + on the fender. His wife's half-eaten dinner was getting cold on the + table; Mr. Grummit, who was badly in need of cheering up, emptied her + half-empty glass of beer and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. +</p> +<p> + "Come away, I tell you," he called. "D'ye hear? Come away. You'll be + locked up if you don't." +</p> +<p> + He gave a little laugh at the sarcasm, and sticking his short pipe in his + mouth lurched slowly to the front-room door and scowled at his wife as + she lurked at the back of the window watching intently the furniture + which was being carried in next door. +</p> +<p> + "Come away or else you'll be locked up," repeated Mr. Grummit. "You + mustn't look at policemen's furniture; it's agin the law." +</p> +<p> + Mrs. Grummit made no reply, but, throwing appearances to the winds, + stepped to the window until her nose touched, as a walnut sideboard with + bevelled glass back was tenderly borne inside under the personal + supervision of Police-Constable Evans. +</p> +<p> + "They'll be 'aving a pianner next," said the indignant Mr. Grummit, + peering from the depths of the room. +</p> +<p> + "They've got one," responded his wife; "there's the end if it stickin' up + in the van." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit advanced and regarded the end fixedly. "Did you throw all + them tin cans and things into their yard wot I told you to?" he demanded. +</p> +<p> + "He picked up three of 'em while I was upstairs," replied his wife. "I + 'eard 'im tell her that they'd come in handy for paint and things." +</p> +<p> + "That's 'ow coppers get on and buy pianners," said the incensed Mr. + Grummit, "sneaking other people's property. I didn't tell you to throw + good 'uns over, did I? Wot d'ye mean by it?" +</p> +<p> + Mrs. Grummit made no reply, but watched with bated breath the triumphal + entrance of the piano. The carman set it tenderly on the narrow + footpath, while P. C. Evans, stooping low, examined it at all points, and + Mrs. Evans, raising the lid, struck a few careless chords. +</p> +<p> + "Showing off," explained Mrs. Grummit, with a half turn; "and she's got + fingers like carrots." +</p> +<p> + "It's a disgrace to Mulberry Gardens to 'ave a copper come and live in + it," said the indignant Grummit; "and to come and live next to me!— + that's what I can't get over. To come and live next door to a man wot + has been fined twice, and both times wrong. Why, for two pins I'd go in + and smash 'is pianner first and 'im after it. He won't live 'ere long, + you take my word for it." +</p> +<p> + "Why not?" inquired his wife. +</p> +<p> + "Why?" repeated Mr. Grummit. "Why? Why, becos I'll make the place too + 'ot to hold him. Ain't there enough houses in Tunwich without 'im + a-coming and living next door to me?" +</p> +<p> + For a whole week the brain concealed in Mr. Grummit's bullet-shaped head + worked in vain, and his temper got correspondingly bad. The day after + the Evans' arrival he had found his yard littered with tins which he + recognized as old acquaintances, and since that time they had travelled + backwards and forwards with monotonous regularity. They sometimes made + as many as three journeys a day, and on one occasion the heavens opened + to drop a battered tin bucket on the back of Mr. Grummit as he was tying + his bootlace. Five minutes later he spoke of the outrage to Mr. Evans, + who had come out to admire the sunset. +</p> +<p> + "I heard something fall," said the constable, eyeing the pail curiously. +</p> +<p> + "You threw it," said Mr. Grummit, breathing furiously. +</p> +<p> + "Me? Nonsense," said the other, easily. "I was having tea in the + parlour with my wife and my mother-in-law, and my brother Joe and his + young lady." +</p> +<p> + "Any more of 'em?" demanded the hapless Mr. Grummit, aghast at this list + of witnesses for an alibi. +</p> +<p> + "It ain't a bad pail, if you look at it properly," said the constable. + "I should keep it if I was you; unless the owner offers a reward for it. + It'll hold enough water for your wants." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit flung indoors and, after wasting some time concocting + impossible measures of retaliation with his sympathetic partner, went off + to discuss affairs with his intimates at the <i>Bricklayers' Arms</i>. The + company, although unanimously agreeing that Mr. Evans ought to be boiled, + were miserably deficient in ideas as to the means by which such a + desirable end was to be attained. +</p> +<p> + "Make 'im a laughing-stock, that's the best thing," said an elderly + labourer. "The police don't like being laughed at." +</p> +<p> + "'Ow?" demanded Mr. Grummit, with some asperity. +</p> +<p> + "There's plenty o' ways," said the old man. +</p> +<p> + "I should find 'em out fast enough if I 'ad a bucket dropped on my back, + I know." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit made a retort the feebleness of which was somewhat balanced + by its ferocity, and subsided into glum silence. His back still ached, + but, despite that aid to intellectual effort, the only ways he could + imagine of making the constable look foolish contained an almost certain + risk of hard labour for himself. +</p> +<p> + He pondered the question for a week, and meanwhile the tins—to the + secret disappointment of Mr. Evans—remained untouched in his yard. For + the whole of the time he went about looking, as Mrs. Grummit expressed + it, as though his dinner had disagreed with him. +</p> +<p> + "I've been talking to old Bill Smith," he said, suddenly, as he came in + one night. +</p> +<p> + Mrs. Grummit looked up, and noticed with wifely pleasure that he was + looking almost cheerful. +</p> +<p> + "He's given me a tip," said Mr. Grummit, with a faint smile; "a copper + mustn't come into a free-born Englishman's 'ouse unless he's invited." +</p> +<p> + "Wot of it?" inquired his wife. "You wasn't think of asking him in, was + you?" +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit regarded her almost play-fully. "If a copper comes in + without being told to," he continued, "he gets into trouble for it. Now + d'ye see?" +</p> +<p> + "But he won't come," said the puzzled Mrs. Grummit. +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit winked. "Yes 'e will if you scream loud enough," he + retorted. "Where's the copper-stick?" +</p> +<p> + "Have you gone mad?" demanded his wife, "or do you think I 'ave?" +</p> +<p> + "You go up into the bedroom," said Mr. Grummit, emphasizing his remarks + with his forefinger. "I come up and beat the bed black and blue with the + copper-stick; you scream for mercy and call out 'Help!' 'Murder!' and + things like that. Don't call out 'Police!' cos Bill ain't sure about + that part. Evans comes bursting in to save your life—I'll leave the + door on the latch—and there you are. He's sure to get into trouble for + it. Bill said so. He's made a study o' that sort o' thing." +</p> +<p> + Mrs. Grummit pondered this simple plan so long that her husband began to + lose patience. At last, against her better sense, she rose and fetched + the weapon in question. +</p> +<p> + "And you be careful what you're hitting," she said, as they went upstairs + to bed. "We'd better have 'igh words first, I s'pose?" +</p> +<p> + "You pitch into me with your tongue," said Mr. Grummit, amiably. +</p> +<p> + Mrs. Grummit, first listening to make sure that the constable and his + wife were in the bedroom the other side of the flimsy wall, complied, and + in a voice that rose gradually to a piercing falsetto told Mr. Grummit + things that had been rankling in her mind for some months. She raked up + misdemeanours that he had long since forgotten, and, not content with + that, had a fling at the entire Grummit family, beginning with her + mother-in-law and ending with Mr. Grummit's youngest sister. The hand + that held the copper-stick itched. +</p> +<p> + "Any more to say?" demanded Mr. Grummit advancing upon her. +</p> +<p> + Mrs. Grummit emitted a genuine shriek, and Mr. Grummit, suddenly + remembering himself, stopped short and attacked the bed with + extraordinary fury. The room resounded with the blows, and the efforts + of Mrs. Grummit were a revelation even to her husband. +</p> +<a name="image-7"><!--IMG--></a> +<center> +<img src="007.jpg" height="903" width="535" +alt="'mr. Grummit, Suddenly Remembering Himself, Stopped Short +And Attacked the Bed With Extraordinary Fury.' +"> +</center> +<!--IMAGE END--> +<p> + "I can hear 'im moving," whispered Mr. Grummit, pausing to take breath. +</p> +<p> + "Mur—der!" wailed his wife. "Help! Help!" +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit, changing the stick into his left hand, renewed the attack; + Mrs. Grummit, whose voice was becoming exhausted, sought a temporary + relief in moans. +</p> +<p> + "Is—he——deaf?" panted the wife-beater, "or wot?" +</p> +<p> + He knocked over a chair, and Mrs. Grummit contrived another frenzied + scream. A loud knocking sounded on the wall. +</p> +<p> + "Hel—lp!" moaned Mrs. Grummit. +</p> +<p> + "Halloa, there!" came the voice of the constable. "Why don't you keep + that baby quiet? We can't get a wink of sleep." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit dropped the stick on the bed and turned a dazed face to his + wife. +</p> +<p> + "He—he's afraid—to come in," he gasped. "Keep it up, old gal." +</p> +<p> + He took up the stick again and Mrs. Grummit did her best, but the heart + had gone out of the thing, and he was about to give up the task as + hopeless when the door below was heard to open with a bang. +</p> +<p> + "Here he is," cried the jubilant Grummit. "Now!" +</p> +<p> + His wife responded, and at the same moment the bedroom door was flung + open, and her brother, who had been hastily fetched by the neighbours on + the other side, burst into the room and with one hearty blow sent Mr. + Grummit sprawling. +</p> +<p> + "Hit my sister, will you?" he roared, as the astounded Mr. Grummit rose. + "Take that!" +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit took it, and several other favours, while his wife, tugging + at her brother, endeavoured to explain. It was not, however, until Mr. + Grummit claimed the usual sanctuary of the defeated by refusing to rise + that she could make herself heard. +</p> +<p> + "Joke?" repeated her brother, incredulously. "Joke?" +</p> +<p> + Mrs. Grummit in a husky voice explained. +</p> +<p> + Her brother passed from incredulity to amazement and from amazement to + mirth. He sat down gurgling, and the indignant face of the injured + Grummit only added to his distress. +</p> +<p> + "Best joke I ever heard in my life," he said, wiping his eyes. "Don't + look at me like that, Bob; I can't bear it." +</p> +<p> + "Get off 'ome," responded Mr. Grummit, glowering at him. +</p> +<p> + "There's a crowd outside, and half the doors in the place open," said the + other. "Well, it's a good job there's no harm done. So long." +</p> +<p> + He passed, beaming, down the stairs, and Mr. Grummit, drawing near the + window, heard him explaining in a broken voice to the neighbours outside. + Strong men patted him on the back and urged him gruffly to say what he + had to say and laugh afterwards. Mr. Grummit turned from the window, and + in a slow and stately fashion prepared to retire for the night. Even the + sudden and startling disappearance of Mrs. Grummit as she got into bed + failed to move him. +</p> +<p> + "The bed's broke, Bob," she said faintly. +</p> +<p> + "Beds won't last for ever," he said, shortly; "sleep on the floor." +</p> +<p> + Mrs. Grummit clambered out, and after some trouble secured the bedclothes + and made up a bed in a corner of the room. In a short time she was fast + asleep; but her husband, broad awake, spent the night in devising further + impracticable schemes for the discomfiture of the foe next door. +</p> +<p> + He saw Mr. Evans next morning as he passed on his way to work. The + constable was at the door smoking in his shirt-sleeves, and Mr. Grummit + felt instinctively that he was waiting there to see him pass. +</p> +<p> + "I heard you last night," said the constable, playfully. "My word! Good + gracious!" +</p> +<p> + "Wot's the matter with you?" demanded Mr. Grummit, stopping short. +</p> +<p> + The constable stared at him. "She has been knocking you about," he + gasped. "Why, it must ha' been you screaming, then! I thought it + sounded loud. Why don't you go and get a summons and have her locked up? + I should be pleased to take her." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit faced him, quivering with passion. "Wot would it cost if I + set about you?" he demanded, huskily. +</p> +<p> + "Two months," said Mr. Evans, smiling serenely; "p'r'aps three." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit hesitated and his fists clenched nervously. The constable, + lounging against his door-post, surveyed him with a dispassionate smile. + "That would be besides what you'd get from me," he said, softly. +</p> +<p> + "Come out in the road," said Mr. Grummit, with sudden violence. +</p> +<p> + "It's agin the rules," said Mr. Evans; "sorry I can't. Why not go and + ask your wife's brother to oblige you?" +</p> +<p> + He went in laughing and closed the door, and Mr. Grummit, after a + frenzied outburst, proceeded on his way, returning the smiles of such + acquaintances as he passed with an icy stare or a strongly-worded offer + to make them laugh the other side of their face. The rest of the day he + spent in working so hard that he had no time to reply to the anxious + inquiries of his fellow-workmen. +</p> +<p> + He came home at night glum and silent, the hardship of not being able to + give Mr. Evans his deserts without incurring hard labour having weighed + on his spirits all day. To avoid the annoyance of the piano next door, + which was slowly and reluctantly yielding up "<i>The Last Rose of Summer</i>" + note by note, he went out at the back, and the first thing he saw was Mr. + Evans mending his path with tins and other bric-a-brac. +</p> +<p> + "Nothing like it," said the constable, looking up. "Your missus gave 'em + to us this morning. A little gravel on top, and there you are." +</p> +<p> + He turned whistling to his work again, and the other, after endeavouring + in vain to frame a suitable reply, took a seat on an inverted wash-tub + and lit his pipe. His one hope was that Constable Evans was going to try + and cultivate a garden. +</p> +<p> + The hope was realized a few days later, and Mr. Grummit at the back + window sat gloating over a dozen fine geraniums, some lobelias and + calceolarias, which decorated the constable's plot of ground. He could + not sleep for thinking of them. +</p> +<p> + He rose early the next morning, and, after remarking to Mrs. Grummit that + Mr. Evans's flowers looked as though they wanted rain, went off to his + work. The cloud which had been on his spirits for some time had lifted, + and he whistled as he walked. The sight of flowers in front windows + added to his good humour. +</p> +<p> + He was still in good spirits when he left off work that afternoon, but + some slight hesitation about returning home sent him to the Brick-layers' + firms instead. He stayed there until closing time, and then, being still + disinclined for home, paid a visit to Bill Smith, who lived the other + side of Tunwich. By the time he started for home it was nearly midnight. +</p> +<p> + The outskirts of the town were deserted and the houses in darkness. The + clock of Tunwich church struck twelve, and the last stroke was just dying + away as he turned a corner and ran almost into the arms of the man he had + been trying to avoid. +</p> +<p> + "Halloa!" said Constable Evans, sharply. "Here, I want a word with you." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit quailed. "With me, sir?" he said, with involuntary respect. +</p> +<p> + "What have you been doing to my flowers?" demanded the other, hotly. +</p> +<p> + "Flowers?" repeated Mr. Grummit, as though the word were new to him. + "Flowers? What flowers?" +</p> +<p> + "You know well enough," retorted the constable. "You got over my fence + last night and smashed all my flowers down." +</p> +<p> + "You be careful wot you're saying," urged Mr. Grummit. "Why, I love + flowers. You don't mean to tell me that all them beautiful flowers wot + you put in so careful 'as been spoiled?" +</p> +<p> + "You know all about it," said the constable, choking. "I shall take out + a summons against you for it." +</p> +<p> + "Ho!" said Mr. Grummit. "And wot time do you say it was when I done it?" +</p> +<p> + "Never you mind the time," said the other. +</p> +<p> + "Cos it's important," said Mr. Grummit. +</p> +<p> + "My wife's brother—the one you're so fond of—slept in my 'ouse last + night. He was ill arf the night, pore chap; but, come to think of it, + it'll make 'im a good witness for my innocence." +</p> +<p> + "If I wasn't a policeman," said Mr. Evans, speaking with great + deliberation, "I'd take hold o' you, Bob Grummit, and I'd give you the + biggest hiding you've ever had in your life." +</p> +<p> + "If you wasn't a policeman," said Mr. Grummit, yearningly, "I'd arf + murder you." +</p> +<p> + The two men eyed each other wistfully, loth to part. +</p> +<p> + "If I gave you what you deserve I should get into trouble," said the + constable. +</p> +<p> + "If I gave you a quarter of wot you ought to 'ave I should go to quod," + sighed Mr. Grummit. +</p> +<p> + "I wouldn't put you there," said the constable, earnestly; "I swear I + wouldn't." +</p> +<p> + "Everything's beautiful and quiet," said Mr. Grummit, trembling with + eagerness, "and I wouldn't say a word to a soul. I'll take my solemn + davit I wouldn't." +</p> +<p> + "When I think o' my garden—" began the constable. With a sudden + movement he knocked off Mr. Grummit's cap, and then, seizing him by the + coat, began to hustle him along the road. In the twinkling of an eye + they had closed. +</p> +<p> + Tunwich church chimed the half-hour as they finished, and Mr. Grummit, + forgetting his own injuries, stood smiling at the wreck before him. The + constable's helmet had been smashed and trodden on; his uniform was torn + and covered with blood and dirt, and his good looks marred for a + fortnight at least. He stooped with a groan, and, recovering his helmet, + tried mechanically to punch it into shape. He stuck the battered relic + on his head, and Mr. Grummit fell back—awed, despite himself. +</p> +<p> + "It was a fair fight," he stammered. +</p> +<p> + The constable waved him away. "Get out o' my sight before I change my + mind," he said, fiercely; "and mind, if you say a word about this it'll + be the worse for you." +</p> +<p> + "Do you think I've gone mad?" said the other. He took another look at + his victim and, turning away, danced fantastically along the road home. + The constable, making his way to a gas-lamp, began to inspect damages. +</p> +<p> + They were worse even than he had thought, and, leaning against the + lamp-post, he sought in vain for an explanation that, in the absence of a + prisoner, would satisfy the inspector. A button which was hanging by a + thread fell tinkling on to the footpath, and he had just picked it up and + placed it in his pocket when a faint distant outcry broke upon his ear. +</p> +<p> + He turned and walked as rapidly as his condition would permit in the + direction of the noise. It became louder and more imperative, and cries + of "Police!" became distinctly audible. He quickened into a run, and + turning a corner beheld a little knot of people standing at the gate of a + large house. Other people only partially clad were hastening to-wards + them. The constable arrived out of breath. +</p> +<p> + "Better late than never," said the owner of the house, sarcastically. +</p> +<p> + Mr. Evans, breathing painfully, supported himself with his hand on the + fence. +</p> +<p> + "They went that way, but I suppose you didn't see them," continued the + householder. "Halloa!" he added, as somebody opened the hall door and + the constable's damaged condition became visible in the gas-light. "Are + you hurt?" +</p> +<p> + "Yes," said Mr. Evans, who was trying hard to think clearly. To gain + time he blew a loud call on his whistle. +</p> +<p> + "The rascals!" continued the other. "I think I should know the big chap + with a beard again, but the others were too quick for me." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Evans blew his whistle again—thoughtfully. The opportunity seemed + too good to lose. +</p> +<p> + "Did they get anything?" he inquired. +</p> +<p> + "Not a thing," said the owner, triumphantly. "I was disturbed just in + time." +</p> +<p> + The constable gave a slight gulp. "I saw the three running by the side + of the road," he said, slowly. "Their behaviour seemed suspicious, so I + collared the big one, but they set on me like wild cats. They had me + down three times; the last time I laid my head open against the kerb, and + when I came to my senses again they had gone." +</p> +<p> + He took off his battered helmet with a flourish and, amid a murmur of + sympathy, displayed a nasty cut on his head. A sergeant and a constable, + both running, appeared round the corner and made towards' them. +</p> +<p> + "Get back to the station and make your report," said the former, as + Constable Evans, in a somewhat defiant voice, repeated his story. + "You've done your best; I can see that." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Evans, enacting to perfection the part of a wounded hero, limped + painfully off, praying devoutly as he went that the criminals might make + good their escape. If not, he reflected that the word of a policeman was + at least equal to that of three burglars. +</p> +<p> + He repeated his story at the station, and, after having his head dressed, + was sent home and advised to keep himself quiet for a day or two. He was + off duty for four days, and, the Tunwich Gazette having devoted a column + to the affair, headed "A Gallant Constable," modestly secluded himself + from the public gaze for the whole of that time. +</p> +<p> + To Mr. Grummit, who had read the article in question until he could have + repeated it backwards, this modesty was particularly trying. The + constable's yard was deserted and the front door ever closed. Once Mr. + Grummit even went so far as to tap with his nails on the front parlour + window, and the only response was the sudden lowering of the blind. It + was not until a week afterwards that his eyes were gladdened by a sight + of the constable sitting in his yard; and fearing that even then he might + escape him, he ran out on tip-toe and put his face over the fence before + the latter was aware of his presence. +</p> +<p> + "Wot about that 'ere burglary?" he demanded in truculent tones. +</p> +<p> + "Good evening, Grummit," said the constable, with a patronizing air. +</p> +<p> + "Wot about that burglary?" repeated Mr. Grummit, with a scowl. "I don't + believe you ever saw a burglar." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Evans rose and stretched himself gracefully. "You'd better run + indoors, my good man," he said, slowly. +</p> +<p> + "Telling all them lies about burglars," continued the indignant Mr. + Grummit, producing his newspaper and waving it. "Why, I gave you that + black eye, I smashed your 'elmet, I cut your silly 'ead open, I——" +</p> +<p> + "You've been drinking," said the other, severely. +</p> +<p> + "You mean to say I didn't?" demanded Mr. Grummit, ferociously. +</p> +<p> + Mr. Evans came closer and eyed him steadily. "I don't know what you're + talking about," he said, calmly. +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit, about to speak, stopped appalled at such hardihood. +</p> +<p> + "Of course, if you mean to say that you were one o' them burglars," + continued the constable, "why, say it and I'll take you with pleasure. + Come to think of it, I did seem to remember one o' their voices." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit, with his eyes fixed on the other's, backed a couple of yards + and breathed heavily. +</p> +<p> + "About your height, too, he was," mused the constable. "I hope for your + sake you haven't been saying to anybody else what you said to me just + now." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit shook his head. "Not a word," he faltered. +</p> +<p> + "That's all right, then," said Mr. Evans. "I shouldn't like to be hard + on a neighbour; not that we shall be neighbours much longer." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit, feeling that a reply was expected of him, gave utterance to + a feeble "Oh!" +</p> +<p> + "No," said Mr. Evans, looking round disparagingly. "It ain't good enough + for us now; I was promoted to sergeant this morning. A sergeant can't + live in a common place like this." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit, a prey to a sickening fear, drew near the fence again. "A— + a sergeant?" he stammered. +</p> +<p> + Mr. Evans smiled and gazed carefully at a distant cloud. "For my bravery + with them burglars the other night, Grummit," he said, modestly. "I + might have waited years if it hadn't been for them." +</p> +<p> + He nodded to the frantic Grummit and turned away; Mr. Grummit, without + any adieu at all, turned and crept back to the house. +</p> + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Constable's Move, by W.W. Jacobs + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONSTABLE'S MOVE *** + +***** This file should be named 11184-h.htm or 11184-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/1/8/11184/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Constable's Move + Captains All, Book 4. + +Author: W.W. Jacobs + +Release Date: February 20, 2004 [EBook #11184] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONSTABLE'S MOVE *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + +CAPTAINS ALL + +By W.W. Jacobs + + + +THE CONSTABLE'S MOVE + +[Illustration: "The Constable's Move."] + +Mr. Bob Grummit sat in the kitchen with his corduroy-clad legs stretched +on the fender. His wife's half-eaten dinner was getting cold on the +table; Mr. Grummit, who was badly in need of cheering up, emptied her +half-empty glass of beer and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. + +"Come away, I tell you," he called. "D'ye hear? Come away. You'll be +locked up if you don't." + +He gave a little laugh at the sarcasm, and sticking his short pipe in his +mouth lurched slowly to the front-room door and scowled at his wife as +she lurked at the back of the window watching intently the furniture +which was being carried in next door. + +"Come away or else you'll be locked up," repeated Mr. Grummit. "You +mustn't look at policemen's furniture; it's agin the law." + +Mrs. Grummit made no reply, but, throwing appearances to the winds, +stepped to the window until her nose touched, as a walnut sideboard with +bevelled glass back was tenderly borne inside under the personal +supervision of Police-Constable Evans. + +"They'll be 'aving a pianner next," said the indignant Mr. Grummit, +peering from the depths of the room. + +"They've got one," responded his wife; "there's the end if it stickin' up +in the van." + +Mr. Grummit advanced and regarded the end fixedly. "Did you throw all +them tin cans and things into their yard wot I told you to?" he demanded. + +"He picked up three of 'em while I was upstairs," replied his wife. "I +'eard 'im tell her that they'd come in handy for paint and things." + +"That's 'ow coppers get on and buy pianners," said the incensed Mr. +Grummit, "sneaking other people's property. I didn't tell you to throw +good 'uns over, did I? Wot d'ye mean by it?" + +Mrs. Grummit made no reply, but watched with bated breath the triumphal +entrance of the piano. The carman set it tenderly on the narrow +footpath, while P. C. Evans, stooping low, examined it at all points, and +Mrs. Evans, raising the lid, struck a few careless chords. + +"Showing off," explained Mrs. Grummit, with a half turn; "and she's got +fingers like carrots." + +"It's a disgrace to Mulberry Gardens to 'ave a copper come and live in +it," said the indignant Grummit; "and to come and live next to me!-- +that's what I can't get over. To come and live next door to a man wot +has been fined twice, and both times wrong. Why, for two pins I'd go in +and smash 'is pianner first and 'im after it. He won't live 'ere long, +you take my word for it." + +"Why not?" inquired his wife. + +"Why?" repeated Mr. Grummit. "Why? Why, becos I'll make the place too +'ot to hold him. Ain't there enough houses in Tunwich without 'im +a-coming and living next door to me?" + +For a whole week the brain concealed in Mr. Grummit's bullet-shaped head +worked in vain, and his temper got correspondingly bad. The day after +the Evans' arrival he had found his yard littered with tins which he +recognized as old acquaintances, and since that time they had travelled +backwards and forwards with monotonous regularity. They sometimes made +as many as three journeys a day, and on one occasion the heavens opened +to drop a battered tin bucket on the back of Mr. Grummit as he was tying +his bootlace. Five minutes later he spoke of the outrage to Mr. Evans, +who had come out to admire the sunset. + +"I heard something fall," said the constable, eyeing the pail curiously. + +"You threw it," said Mr. Grummit, breathing furiously. + +"Me? Nonsense," said the other, easily. "I was having tea in the +parlour with my wife and my mother-in-law, and my brother Joe and his +young lady." + +"Any more of 'em?" demanded the hapless Mr. Grummit, aghast at this list +of witnesses for an alibi. + +"It ain't a bad pail, if you look at it properly," said the constable. +"I should keep it if I was you; unless the owner offers a reward for it. +It'll hold enough water for your wants." + +Mr. Grummit flung indoors and, after wasting some time concocting +impossible measures of retaliation with his sympathetic partner, went off +to discuss affairs with his intimates at the _Bricklayers' Arms_. The +company, although unanimously agreeing that Mr. Evans ought to be boiled, +were miserably deficient in ideas as to the means by which such a +desirable end was to be attained. + +"Make 'im a laughing-stock, that's the best thing," said an elderly +labourer. "The police don't like being laughed at." + +"'Ow?" demanded Mr. Grummit, with some asperity. + +"There's plenty o' ways," said the old man. + +"I should find 'em out fast enough if I 'ad a bucket dropped on my back, +I know." + +Mr. Grummit made a retort the feebleness of which was somewhat balanced +by its ferocity, and subsided into glum silence. His back still ached, +but, despite that aid to intellectual effort, the only ways he could +imagine of making the constable look foolish contained an almost certain +risk of hard labour for himself. + +He pondered the question for a week, and meanwhile the tins--to the +secret disappointment of Mr. Evans--remained untouched in his yard. For +the whole of the time he went about looking, as Mrs. Grummit expressed +it, as though his dinner had disagreed with him. + +"I've been talking to old Bill Smith," he said, suddenly, as he came in +one night. + +Mrs. Grummit looked up, and noticed with wifely pleasure that he was +looking almost cheerful. + +"He's given me a tip," said Mr. Grummit, with a faint smile; "a copper +mustn't come into a free-born Englishman's 'ouse unless he's invited." + +"Wot of it?" inquired his wife. "You wasn't think of asking him in, was +you?" + +Mr. Grummit regarded her almost play-fully. "If a copper comes in +without being told to," he continued, "he gets into trouble for it. Now +d'ye see?" + +"But he won't come," said the puzzled Mrs. Grummit. + +Mr. Grummit winked. "Yes 'e will if you scream loud enough," he +retorted. "Where's the copper-stick?" + +"Have you gone mad?" demanded his wife, "or do you think I 'ave?" + +"You go up into the bedroom," said Mr. Grummit, emphasizing his remarks +with his forefinger. "I come up and beat the bed black and blue with the +copper-stick; you scream for mercy and call out 'Help!' 'Murder!' and +things like that. Don't call out 'Police!' cos Bill ain't sure about +that part. Evans comes bursting in to save your life--I'll leave the +door on the latch--and there you are. He's sure to get into trouble for +it. Bill said so. He's made a study o' that sort o' thing." + +Mrs. Grummit pondered this simple plan so long that her husband began to +lose patience. At last, against her better sense, she rose and fetched +the weapon in question. + +"And you be careful what you're hitting," she said, as they went upstairs +to bed. "We'd better have 'igh words first, I s'pose?" + +"You pitch into me with your tongue," said Mr. Grummit, amiably. + +Mrs. Grummit, first listening to make sure that the constable and his +wife were in the bedroom the other side of the flimsy wall, complied, and +in a voice that rose gradually to a piercing falsetto told Mr. Grummit +things that had been rankling in her mind for some months. She raked up +misdemeanours that he had long since forgotten, and, not content with +that, had a fling at the entire Grummit family, beginning with her +mother-in-law and ending with Mr. Grummit's youngest sister. The hand +that held the copper-stick itched. + +"Any more to say?" demanded Mr. Grummit advancing upon her. + +Mrs. Grummit emitted a genuine shriek, and Mr. Grummit, suddenly +remembering himself, stopped short and attacked the bed with +extraordinary fury. The room resounded with the blows, and the efforts +of Mrs. Grummit were a revelation even to her husband. + +[Illustration: "Mr. Grummit, suddenly remembering himself, stopped short +and attacked the bed with extraordinary fury."] + +"I can hear 'im moving," whispered Mr. Grummit, pausing to take breath. + +"Mur--der!" wailed his wife. "Help! Help!" + +Mr. Grummit, changing the stick into his left hand, renewed the attack; +Mrs. Grummit, whose voice was becoming exhausted, sought a temporary +relief in moans. + +"Is--he----deaf?" panted the wife-beater, "or wot?" + +He knocked over a chair, and Mrs. Grummit contrived another frenzied +scream. A loud knocking sounded on the wall. + +"Hel--lp!" moaned Mrs. Grummit. + +"Halloa, there!" came the voice of the constable. "Why don't you keep +that baby quiet? We can't get a wink of sleep." + +Mr. Grummit dropped the stick on the bed and turned a dazed face to his +wife. + +"He--he's afraid--to come in," he gasped. "Keep it up, old gal." + +He took up the stick again and Mrs. Grummit did her best, but the heart +had gone out of the thing, and he was about to give up the task as +hopeless when the door below was heard to open with a bang. + +"Here he is," cried the jubilant Grummit. "Now!" + +His wife responded, and at the same moment the bedroom door was flung +open, and her brother, who had been hastily fetched by the neighbours on +the other side, burst into the room and with one hearty blow sent Mr. +Grummit sprawling. + +"Hit my sister, will you?" he roared, as the astounded Mr. Grummit rose. +"Take that!" + +Mr. Grummit took it, and several other favours, while his wife, tugging +at her brother, endeavoured to explain. It was not, however, until Mr. +Grummit claimed the usual sanctuary of the defeated by refusing to rise +that she could make herself heard. + +"Joke?" repeated her brother, incredulously. "Joke?" + +Mrs. Grummit in a husky voice explained. + +Her brother passed from incredulity to amazement and from amazement to +mirth. He sat down gurgling, and the indignant face of the injured +Grummit only added to his distress. + +"Best joke I ever heard in my life," he said, wiping his eyes. "Don't +look at me like that, Bob; I can't bear it." + +"Get off 'ome," responded Mr. Grummit, glowering at him. + +"There's a crowd outside, and half the doors in the place open," said the +other. "Well, it's a good job there's no harm done. So long." + +He passed, beaming, down the stairs, and Mr. Grummit, drawing near the +window, heard him explaining in a broken voice to the neighbours outside. +Strong men patted him on the back and urged him gruffly to say what he +had to say and laugh afterwards. Mr. Grummit turned from the window, and +in a slow and stately fashion prepared to retire for the night. Even the +sudden and startling disappearance of Mrs. Grummit as she got into bed +failed to move him. + +"The bed's broke, Bob," she said faintly. + +"Beds won't last for ever," he said, shortly; "sleep on the floor." + +Mrs. Grummit clambered out, and after some trouble secured the bedclothes +and made up a bed in a corner of the room. In a short time she was fast +asleep; but her husband, broad awake, spent the night in devising further +impracticable schemes for the discomfiture of the foe next door. + +He saw Mr. Evans next morning as he passed on his way to work. The +constable was at the door smoking in his shirt-sleeves, and Mr. Grummit +felt instinctively that he was waiting there to see him pass. + +"I heard you last night," said the constable, playfully. "My word! Good +gracious!" + +"Wot's the matter with you?" demanded Mr. Grummit, stopping short. + +The constable stared at him. "She has been knocking you about," he +gasped. "Why, it must ha' been you screaming, then! I thought it +sounded loud. Why don't you go and get a summons and have her locked up? +I should be pleased to take her." + +Mr. Grummit faced him, quivering with passion. "Wot would it cost if I +set about you?" he demanded, huskily. + +"Two months," said Mr. Evans, smiling serenely; "p'r'aps three." + +Mr. Grummit hesitated and his fists clenched nervously. The constable, +lounging against his door-post, surveyed him with a dispassionate smile. +"That would be besides what you'd get from me," he said, softly. + +"Come out in the road," said Mr. Grummit, with sudden violence. + +"It's agin the rules," said Mr. Evans; "sorry I can't. Why not go and +ask your wife's brother to oblige you?" + +He went in laughing and closed the door, and Mr. Grummit, after a +frenzied outburst, proceeded on his way, returning the smiles of such +acquaintances as he passed with an icy stare or a strongly-worded offer +to make them laugh the other side of their face. The rest of the day he +spent in working so hard that he had no time to reply to the anxious +inquiries of his fellow-workmen. + +He came home at night glum and silent, the hardship of not being able to +give Mr. Evans his deserts without incurring hard labour having weighed +on his spirits all day. To avoid the annoyance of the piano next door, +which was slowly and reluctantly yielding up "_The Last Rose of Summer_" +note by note, he went out at the back, and the first thing he saw was Mr. +Evans mending his path with tins and other bric-a-brac. + +"Nothing like it," said the constable, looking up. "Your missus gave 'em +to us this morning. A little gravel on top, and there you are." + +He turned whistling to his work again, and the other, after endeavouring +in vain to frame a suitable reply, took a seat on an inverted wash-tub +and lit his pipe. His one hope was that Constable Evans was going to try +and cultivate a garden. + +The hope was realized a few days later, and Mr. Grummit at the back +window sat gloating over a dozen fine geraniums, some lobelias and +calceolarias, which decorated the constable's plot of ground. He could +not sleep for thinking of them. + +He rose early the next morning, and, after remarking to Mrs. Grummit that +Mr. Evans's flowers looked as though they wanted rain, went off to his +work. The cloud which had been on his spirits for some time had lifted, +and he whistled as he walked. The sight of flowers in front windows +added to his good humour. + +He was still in good spirits when he left off work that afternoon, but +some slight hesitation about returning home sent him to the Brick-layers' +firms instead. He stayed there until closing time, and then, being still +disinclined for home, paid a visit to Bill Smith, who lived the other +side of Tunwich. By the time he started for home it was nearly midnight. + +The outskirts of the town were deserted and the houses in darkness. The +clock of Tunwich church struck twelve, and the last stroke was just dying +away as he turned a corner and ran almost into the arms of the man he had +been trying to avoid. + +"Halloa!" said Constable Evans, sharply. "Here, I want a word with you." + +Mr. Grummit quailed. "With me, sir?" he said, with involuntary respect. + +"What have you been doing to my flowers?" demanded the other, hotly. + +"Flowers?" repeated Mr. Grummit, as though the word were new to him. +"Flowers? What flowers?" + +"You know well enough," retorted the constable. "You got over my fence +last night and smashed all my flowers down." + +"You be careful wot you're saying," urged Mr. Grummit. "Why, I love +flowers. You don't mean to tell me that all them beautiful flowers wot +you put in so careful 'as been spoiled?" + +"You know all about it," said the constable, choking. "I shall take out +a summons against you for it." + +"Ho!" said Mr. Grummit. "And wot time do you say it was when I done it?" + +"Never you mind the time," said the other. + +"Cos it's important," said Mr. Grummit. + +"My wife's brother--the one you're so fond of--slept in my 'ouse last +night. He was ill arf the night, pore chap; but, come to think of it, +it'll make 'im a good witness for my innocence." + +"If I wasn't a policeman," said Mr. Evans, speaking with great +deliberation, "I'd take hold o' you, Bob Grummit, and I'd give you the +biggest hiding you've ever had in your life." + +"If you wasn't a policeman," said Mr. Grummit, yearningly, "I'd arf +murder you." + +The two men eyed each other wistfully, loth to part. + +"If I gave you what you deserve I should get into trouble," said the +constable. + +"If I gave you a quarter of wot you ought to 'ave I should go to quod," +sighed Mr. Grummit. + +"I wouldn't put you there," said the constable, earnestly; "I swear I +wouldn't." + +"Everything's beautiful and quiet," said Mr. Grummit, trembling with +eagerness, "and I wouldn't say a word to a soul. I'll take my solemn +davit I wouldn't." + +"When I think o' my garden--" began the constable. With a sudden +movement he knocked off Mr. Grummit's cap, and then, seizing him by the +coat, began to hustle him along the road. In the twinkling of an eye +they had closed. + +Tunwich church chimed the half-hour as they finished, and Mr. Grummit, +forgetting his own injuries, stood smiling at the wreck before him. The +constable's helmet had been smashed and trodden on; his uniform was torn +and covered with blood and dirt, and his good looks marred for a +fortnight at least. He stooped with a groan, and, recovering his helmet, +tried mechanically to punch it into shape. He stuck the battered relic +on his head, and Mr. Grummit fell back--awed, despite himself. + +"It was a fair fight," he stammered. + +The constable waved him away. "Get out o' my sight before I change my +mind," he said, fiercely; "and mind, if you say a word about this it'll +be the worse for you." + +"Do you think I've gone mad?" said the other. He took another look at +his victim and, turning away, danced fantastically along the road home. +The constable, making his way to a gas-lamp, began to inspect damages. + +They were worse even than he had thought, and, leaning against the +lamp-post, he sought in vain for an explanation that, in the absence of a +prisoner, would satisfy the inspector. A button which was hanging by a +thread fell tinkling on to the footpath, and he had just picked it up and +placed it in his pocket when a faint distant outcry broke upon his ear. + +He turned and walked as rapidly as his condition would permit in the +direction of the noise. It became louder and more imperative, and cries +of "Police!" became distinctly audible. He quickened into a run, and +turning a corner beheld a little knot of people standing at the gate of a +large house. Other people only partially clad were hastening to-wards +them. The constable arrived out of breath. + +"Better late than never," said the owner of the house, sarcastically. + +Mr. Evans, breathing painfully, supported himself with his hand on the +fence. + +"They went that way, but I suppose you didn't see them," continued the +householder. "Halloa!" he added, as somebody opened the hall door and +the constable's damaged condition became visible in the gas-light. "Are +you hurt?" + +"Yes," said Mr. Evans, who was trying hard to think clearly. To gain +time he blew a loud call on his whistle. + +"The rascals!" continued the other. "I think I should know the big chap +with a beard again, but the others were too quick for me." + +Mr. Evans blew his whistle again--thoughtfully. The opportunity seemed +too good to lose. + +"Did they get anything?" he inquired. + +"Not a thing," said the owner, triumphantly. "I was disturbed just in +time." + +The constable gave a slight gulp. "I saw the three running by the side +of the road," he said, slowly. "Their behaviour seemed suspicious, so I +collared the big one, but they set on me like wild cats. They had me +down three times; the last time I laid my head open against the kerb, and +when I came to my senses again they had gone." + +He took off his battered helmet with a flourish and, amid a murmur of +sympathy, displayed a nasty cut on his head. A sergeant and a constable, +both running, appeared round the corner and made towards' them. + +"Get back to the station and make your report," said the former, as +Constable Evans, in a somewhat defiant voice, repeated his story. +"You've done your best; I can see that." + +Mr. Evans, enacting to perfection the part of a wounded hero, limped +painfully off, praying devoutly as he went that the criminals might make +good their escape. If not, he reflected that the word of a policeman was +at least equal to that of three burglars. + +He repeated his story at the station, and, after having his head dressed, +was sent home and advised to keep himself quiet for a day or two. He was +off duty for four days, and, the Tunwich Gazette having devoted a column +to the affair, headed "A Gallant Constable," modestly secluded himself +from the public gaze for the whole of that time. + +To Mr. Grummit, who had read the article in question until he could have +repeated it backwards, this modesty was particularly trying. The +constable's yard was deserted and the front door ever closed. Once Mr. +Grummit even went so far as to tap with his nails on the front parlour +window, and the only response was the sudden lowering of the blind. It +was not until a week afterwards that his eyes were gladdened by a sight +of the constable sitting in his yard; and fearing that even then he might +escape him, he ran out on tip-toe and put his face over the fence before +the latter was aware of his presence. + +"Wot about that 'ere burglary?" he demanded in truculent tones. + +"Good evening, Grummit," said the constable, with a patronizing air. + +"Wot about that burglary?" repeated Mr. Grummit, with a scowl. "I don't +believe you ever saw a burglar." + +Mr. Evans rose and stretched himself gracefully. "You'd better run +indoors, my good man," he said, slowly. + +"Telling all them lies about burglars," continued the indignant Mr. +Grummit, producing his newspaper and waving it. "Why, I gave you that +black eye, I smashed your 'elmet, I cut your silly 'ead open, I----" + +"You've been drinking," said the other, severely. + +"You mean to say I didn't?" demanded Mr. Grummit, ferociously. + +Mr. Evans came closer and eyed him steadily. "I don't know what you're +talking about," he said, calmly. + +Mr. Grummit, about to speak, stopped appalled at such hardihood. + +"Of course, if you mean to say that you were one o' them burglars," +continued the constable, "why, say it and I'll take you with pleasure. +Come to think of it, I did seem to remember one o' their voices." + +Mr. Grummit, with his eyes fixed on the other's, backed a couple of yards +and breathed heavily. + +"About your height, too, he was," mused the constable. "I hope for your +sake you haven't been saying to anybody else what you said to me just +now." + +Mr. Grummit shook his head. "Not a word," he faltered. + +"That's all right, then," said Mr. Evans. "I shouldn't like to be hard +on a neighbour; not that we shall be neighbours much longer." + +Mr. Grummit, feeling that a reply was expected of him, gave utterance to +a feeble "Oh!" + +"No," said Mr. Evans, looking round disparagingly. "It ain't good enough +for us now; I was promoted to sergeant this morning. A sergeant can't +live in a common place like this." + +Mr. Grummit, a prey to a sickening fear, drew near the fence again. "A-- +a sergeant?" he stammered. + +Mr. Evans smiled and gazed carefully at a distant cloud. "For my bravery +with them burglars the other night, Grummit," he said, modestly. "I +might have waited years if it hadn't been for them." + +He nodded to the frantic Grummit and turned away; Mr. Grummit, without +any adieu at all, turned and crept back to the house. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Constable's Move, by W.W. 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Jacobs, Book 4. +</title> +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {background:#faebd7;} + * { font-family: Times; + } + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin: 15%; + margin-top: .75em; + font-size: 14pt; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; color:#A82C28;} + HR { width: 33%; } + PRE { font-family: Courier, monospaced;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; font-size: 14pt; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + // --> +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Constable's Move, by W.W. Jacobs + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Constable's Move + Captains All, Book 4. + +Author: W.W. Jacobs + +Release Date: February 20, 2004 [EBook #11184] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONSTABLE'S MOVE *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1> + CAPTAINS ALL +</h1> +<br /> +<h2> + By W.W. Jacobs +</h2> +<br /><br /> + +<center> +<h2>Book 4.</h2> +</center> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="title (79K)" src="title.jpg" height="884" width="533" /> +</center> +<br><br> + +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="frontis (94K)" src="frontis.jpg" height="906" width="532" /> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<br /><br /> +<hr> +<br /><br /> + +<h2>List of Illustrations</h2> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + + + + +<p class="toc"><a href="#image-6"> +"The Constable's Move." +</a></p> +<p class="toc"><a href="#image-7"> +"Mr. Grummit, Suddenly Remembering Himself, Stopped Short +And Attacked the Bed With Extraordinary Fury." +</a></p> + + + + + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<br /><br /> +<hr> + + + + + +<a name="2H_4_4"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h2> + THE CONSTABLE'S MOVE +</h2> +<a name="image-6"><!--IMG--></a> +<center> +<img src="006.jpg" height="475" width="541" +alt="'the Constable's Move.' +"> +</center> +<!--IMAGE END--> +<p> + Mr. Bob Grummit sat in the kitchen with his corduroy-clad legs stretched + on the fender. His wife's half-eaten dinner was getting cold on the + table; Mr. Grummit, who was badly in need of cheering up, emptied her + half-empty glass of beer and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. +</p> +<p> + "Come away, I tell you," he called. "D'ye hear? Come away. You'll be + locked up if you don't." +</p> +<p> + He gave a little laugh at the sarcasm, and sticking his short pipe in his + mouth lurched slowly to the front-room door and scowled at his wife as + she lurked at the back of the window watching intently the furniture + which was being carried in next door. +</p> +<p> + "Come away or else you'll be locked up," repeated Mr. Grummit. "You + mustn't look at policemen's furniture; it's agin the law." +</p> +<p> + Mrs. Grummit made no reply, but, throwing appearances to the winds, + stepped to the window until her nose touched, as a walnut sideboard with + bevelled glass back was tenderly borne inside under the personal + supervision of Police-Constable Evans. +</p> +<p> + "They'll be 'aving a pianner next," said the indignant Mr. Grummit, + peering from the depths of the room. +</p> +<p> + "They've got one," responded his wife; "there's the end if it stickin' up + in the van." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit advanced and regarded the end fixedly. "Did you throw all + them tin cans and things into their yard wot I told you to?" he demanded. +</p> +<p> + "He picked up three of 'em while I was upstairs," replied his wife. "I + 'eard 'im tell her that they'd come in handy for paint and things." +</p> +<p> + "That's 'ow coppers get on and buy pianners," said the incensed Mr. + Grummit, "sneaking other people's property. I didn't tell you to throw + good 'uns over, did I? Wot d'ye mean by it?" +</p> +<p> + Mrs. Grummit made no reply, but watched with bated breath the triumphal + entrance of the piano. The carman set it tenderly on the narrow + footpath, while P. C. Evans, stooping low, examined it at all points, and + Mrs. Evans, raising the lid, struck a few careless chords. +</p> +<p> + "Showing off," explained Mrs. Grummit, with a half turn; "and she's got + fingers like carrots." +</p> +<p> + "It's a disgrace to Mulberry Gardens to 'ave a copper come and live in + it," said the indignant Grummit; "and to come and live next to me!— + that's what I can't get over. To come and live next door to a man wot + has been fined twice, and both times wrong. Why, for two pins I'd go in + and smash 'is pianner first and 'im after it. He won't live 'ere long, + you take my word for it." +</p> +<p> + "Why not?" inquired his wife. +</p> +<p> + "Why?" repeated Mr. Grummit. "Why? Why, becos I'll make the place too + 'ot to hold him. Ain't there enough houses in Tunwich without 'im + a-coming and living next door to me?" +</p> +<p> + For a whole week the brain concealed in Mr. Grummit's bullet-shaped head + worked in vain, and his temper got correspondingly bad. The day after + the Evans' arrival he had found his yard littered with tins which he + recognized as old acquaintances, and since that time they had travelled + backwards and forwards with monotonous regularity. They sometimes made + as many as three journeys a day, and on one occasion the heavens opened + to drop a battered tin bucket on the back of Mr. Grummit as he was tying + his bootlace. Five minutes later he spoke of the outrage to Mr. Evans, + who had come out to admire the sunset. +</p> +<p> + "I heard something fall," said the constable, eyeing the pail curiously. +</p> +<p> + "You threw it," said Mr. Grummit, breathing furiously. +</p> +<p> + "Me? Nonsense," said the other, easily. "I was having tea in the + parlour with my wife and my mother-in-law, and my brother Joe and his + young lady." +</p> +<p> + "Any more of 'em?" demanded the hapless Mr. Grummit, aghast at this list + of witnesses for an alibi. +</p> +<p> + "It ain't a bad pail, if you look at it properly," said the constable. + "I should keep it if I was you; unless the owner offers a reward for it. + It'll hold enough water for your wants." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit flung indoors and, after wasting some time concocting + impossible measures of retaliation with his sympathetic partner, went off + to discuss affairs with his intimates at the <i>Bricklayers' Arms</i>. The + company, although unanimously agreeing that Mr. Evans ought to be boiled, + were miserably deficient in ideas as to the means by which such a + desirable end was to be attained. +</p> +<p> + "Make 'im a laughing-stock, that's the best thing," said an elderly + labourer. "The police don't like being laughed at." +</p> +<p> + "'Ow?" demanded Mr. Grummit, with some asperity. +</p> +<p> + "There's plenty o' ways," said the old man. +</p> +<p> + "I should find 'em out fast enough if I 'ad a bucket dropped on my back, + I know." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit made a retort the feebleness of which was somewhat balanced + by its ferocity, and subsided into glum silence. His back still ached, + but, despite that aid to intellectual effort, the only ways he could + imagine of making the constable look foolish contained an almost certain + risk of hard labour for himself. +</p> +<p> + He pondered the question for a week, and meanwhile the tins—to the + secret disappointment of Mr. Evans—remained untouched in his yard. For + the whole of the time he went about looking, as Mrs. Grummit expressed + it, as though his dinner had disagreed with him. +</p> +<p> + "I've been talking to old Bill Smith," he said, suddenly, as he came in + one night. +</p> +<p> + Mrs. Grummit looked up, and noticed with wifely pleasure that he was + looking almost cheerful. +</p> +<p> + "He's given me a tip," said Mr. Grummit, with a faint smile; "a copper + mustn't come into a free-born Englishman's 'ouse unless he's invited." +</p> +<p> + "Wot of it?" inquired his wife. "You wasn't think of asking him in, was + you?" +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit regarded her almost play-fully. "If a copper comes in + without being told to," he continued, "he gets into trouble for it. Now + d'ye see?" +</p> +<p> + "But he won't come," said the puzzled Mrs. Grummit. +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit winked. "Yes 'e will if you scream loud enough," he + retorted. "Where's the copper-stick?" +</p> +<p> + "Have you gone mad?" demanded his wife, "or do you think I 'ave?" +</p> +<p> + "You go up into the bedroom," said Mr. Grummit, emphasizing his remarks + with his forefinger. "I come up and beat the bed black and blue with the + copper-stick; you scream for mercy and call out 'Help!' 'Murder!' and + things like that. Don't call out 'Police!' cos Bill ain't sure about + that part. Evans comes bursting in to save your life—I'll leave the + door on the latch—and there you are. He's sure to get into trouble for + it. Bill said so. He's made a study o' that sort o' thing." +</p> +<p> + Mrs. Grummit pondered this simple plan so long that her husband began to + lose patience. At last, against her better sense, she rose and fetched + the weapon in question. +</p> +<p> + "And you be careful what you're hitting," she said, as they went upstairs + to bed. "We'd better have 'igh words first, I s'pose?" +</p> +<p> + "You pitch into me with your tongue," said Mr. Grummit, amiably. +</p> +<p> + Mrs. Grummit, first listening to make sure that the constable and his + wife were in the bedroom the other side of the flimsy wall, complied, and + in a voice that rose gradually to a piercing falsetto told Mr. Grummit + things that had been rankling in her mind for some months. She raked up + misdemeanours that he had long since forgotten, and, not content with + that, had a fling at the entire Grummit family, beginning with her + mother-in-law and ending with Mr. Grummit's youngest sister. The hand + that held the copper-stick itched. +</p> +<p> + "Any more to say?" demanded Mr. Grummit advancing upon her. +</p> +<p> + Mrs. Grummit emitted a genuine shriek, and Mr. Grummit, suddenly + remembering himself, stopped short and attacked the bed with + extraordinary fury. The room resounded with the blows, and the efforts + of Mrs. Grummit were a revelation even to her husband. +</p> +<a name="image-7"><!--IMG--></a> +<center> +<img src="007.jpg" height="903" width="535" +alt="'mr. Grummit, Suddenly Remembering Himself, Stopped Short +And Attacked the Bed With Extraordinary Fury.' +"> +</center> +<!--IMAGE END--> +<p> + "I can hear 'im moving," whispered Mr. Grummit, pausing to take breath. +</p> +<p> + "Mur—der!" wailed his wife. "Help! Help!" +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit, changing the stick into his left hand, renewed the attack; + Mrs. Grummit, whose voice was becoming exhausted, sought a temporary + relief in moans. +</p> +<p> + "Is—he——deaf?" panted the wife-beater, "or wot?" +</p> +<p> + He knocked over a chair, and Mrs. Grummit contrived another frenzied + scream. A loud knocking sounded on the wall. +</p> +<p> + "Hel—lp!" moaned Mrs. Grummit. +</p> +<p> + "Halloa, there!" came the voice of the constable. "Why don't you keep + that baby quiet? We can't get a wink of sleep." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit dropped the stick on the bed and turned a dazed face to his + wife. +</p> +<p> + "He—he's afraid—to come in," he gasped. "Keep it up, old gal." +</p> +<p> + He took up the stick again and Mrs. Grummit did her best, but the heart + had gone out of the thing, and he was about to give up the task as + hopeless when the door below was heard to open with a bang. +</p> +<p> + "Here he is," cried the jubilant Grummit. "Now!" +</p> +<p> + His wife responded, and at the same moment the bedroom door was flung + open, and her brother, who had been hastily fetched by the neighbours on + the other side, burst into the room and with one hearty blow sent Mr. + Grummit sprawling. +</p> +<p> + "Hit my sister, will you?" he roared, as the astounded Mr. Grummit rose. + "Take that!" +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit took it, and several other favours, while his wife, tugging + at her brother, endeavoured to explain. It was not, however, until Mr. + Grummit claimed the usual sanctuary of the defeated by refusing to rise + that she could make herself heard. +</p> +<p> + "Joke?" repeated her brother, incredulously. "Joke?" +</p> +<p> + Mrs. Grummit in a husky voice explained. +</p> +<p> + Her brother passed from incredulity to amazement and from amazement to + mirth. He sat down gurgling, and the indignant face of the injured + Grummit only added to his distress. +</p> +<p> + "Best joke I ever heard in my life," he said, wiping his eyes. "Don't + look at me like that, Bob; I can't bear it." +</p> +<p> + "Get off 'ome," responded Mr. Grummit, glowering at him. +</p> +<p> + "There's a crowd outside, and half the doors in the place open," said the + other. "Well, it's a good job there's no harm done. So long." +</p> +<p> + He passed, beaming, down the stairs, and Mr. Grummit, drawing near the + window, heard him explaining in a broken voice to the neighbours outside. + Strong men patted him on the back and urged him gruffly to say what he + had to say and laugh afterwards. Mr. Grummit turned from the window, and + in a slow and stately fashion prepared to retire for the night. Even the + sudden and startling disappearance of Mrs. Grummit as she got into bed + failed to move him. +</p> +<p> + "The bed's broke, Bob," she said faintly. +</p> +<p> + "Beds won't last for ever," he said, shortly; "sleep on the floor." +</p> +<p> + Mrs. Grummit clambered out, and after some trouble secured the bedclothes + and made up a bed in a corner of the room. In a short time she was fast + asleep; but her husband, broad awake, spent the night in devising further + impracticable schemes for the discomfiture of the foe next door. +</p> +<p> + He saw Mr. Evans next morning as he passed on his way to work. The + constable was at the door smoking in his shirt-sleeves, and Mr. Grummit + felt instinctively that he was waiting there to see him pass. +</p> +<p> + "I heard you last night," said the constable, playfully. "My word! Good + gracious!" +</p> +<p> + "Wot's the matter with you?" demanded Mr. Grummit, stopping short. +</p> +<p> + The constable stared at him. "She has been knocking you about," he + gasped. "Why, it must ha' been you screaming, then! I thought it + sounded loud. Why don't you go and get a summons and have her locked up? + I should be pleased to take her." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit faced him, quivering with passion. "Wot would it cost if I + set about you?" he demanded, huskily. +</p> +<p> + "Two months," said Mr. Evans, smiling serenely; "p'r'aps three." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit hesitated and his fists clenched nervously. The constable, + lounging against his door-post, surveyed him with a dispassionate smile. + "That would be besides what you'd get from me," he said, softly. +</p> +<p> + "Come out in the road," said Mr. Grummit, with sudden violence. +</p> +<p> + "It's agin the rules," said Mr. Evans; "sorry I can't. Why not go and + ask your wife's brother to oblige you?" +</p> +<p> + He went in laughing and closed the door, and Mr. Grummit, after a + frenzied outburst, proceeded on his way, returning the smiles of such + acquaintances as he passed with an icy stare or a strongly-worded offer + to make them laugh the other side of their face. The rest of the day he + spent in working so hard that he had no time to reply to the anxious + inquiries of his fellow-workmen. +</p> +<p> + He came home at night glum and silent, the hardship of not being able to + give Mr. Evans his deserts without incurring hard labour having weighed + on his spirits all day. To avoid the annoyance of the piano next door, + which was slowly and reluctantly yielding up "<i>The Last Rose of Summer</i>" + note by note, he went out at the back, and the first thing he saw was Mr. + Evans mending his path with tins and other bric-a-brac. +</p> +<p> + "Nothing like it," said the constable, looking up. "Your missus gave 'em + to us this morning. A little gravel on top, and there you are." +</p> +<p> + He turned whistling to his work again, and the other, after endeavouring + in vain to frame a suitable reply, took a seat on an inverted wash-tub + and lit his pipe. His one hope was that Constable Evans was going to try + and cultivate a garden. +</p> +<p> + The hope was realized a few days later, and Mr. Grummit at the back + window sat gloating over a dozen fine geraniums, some lobelias and + calceolarias, which decorated the constable's plot of ground. He could + not sleep for thinking of them. +</p> +<p> + He rose early the next morning, and, after remarking to Mrs. Grummit that + Mr. Evans's flowers looked as though they wanted rain, went off to his + work. The cloud which had been on his spirits for some time had lifted, + and he whistled as he walked. The sight of flowers in front windows + added to his good humour. +</p> +<p> + He was still in good spirits when he left off work that afternoon, but + some slight hesitation about returning home sent him to the Brick-layers' + firms instead. He stayed there until closing time, and then, being still + disinclined for home, paid a visit to Bill Smith, who lived the other + side of Tunwich. By the time he started for home it was nearly midnight. +</p> +<p> + The outskirts of the town were deserted and the houses in darkness. The + clock of Tunwich church struck twelve, and the last stroke was just dying + away as he turned a corner and ran almost into the arms of the man he had + been trying to avoid. +</p> +<p> + "Halloa!" said Constable Evans, sharply. "Here, I want a word with you." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit quailed. "With me, sir?" he said, with involuntary respect. +</p> +<p> + "What have you been doing to my flowers?" demanded the other, hotly. +</p> +<p> + "Flowers?" repeated Mr. Grummit, as though the word were new to him. + "Flowers? What flowers?" +</p> +<p> + "You know well enough," retorted the constable. "You got over my fence + last night and smashed all my flowers down." +</p> +<p> + "You be careful wot you're saying," urged Mr. Grummit. "Why, I love + flowers. You don't mean to tell me that all them beautiful flowers wot + you put in so careful 'as been spoiled?" +</p> +<p> + "You know all about it," said the constable, choking. "I shall take out + a summons against you for it." +</p> +<p> + "Ho!" said Mr. Grummit. "And wot time do you say it was when I done it?" +</p> +<p> + "Never you mind the time," said the other. +</p> +<p> + "Cos it's important," said Mr. Grummit. +</p> +<p> + "My wife's brother—the one you're so fond of—slept in my 'ouse last + night. He was ill arf the night, pore chap; but, come to think of it, + it'll make 'im a good witness for my innocence." +</p> +<p> + "If I wasn't a policeman," said Mr. Evans, speaking with great + deliberation, "I'd take hold o' you, Bob Grummit, and I'd give you the + biggest hiding you've ever had in your life." +</p> +<p> + "If you wasn't a policeman," said Mr. Grummit, yearningly, "I'd arf + murder you." +</p> +<p> + The two men eyed each other wistfully, loth to part. +</p> +<p> + "If I gave you what you deserve I should get into trouble," said the + constable. +</p> +<p> + "If I gave you a quarter of wot you ought to 'ave I should go to quod," + sighed Mr. Grummit. +</p> +<p> + "I wouldn't put you there," said the constable, earnestly; "I swear I + wouldn't." +</p> +<p> + "Everything's beautiful and quiet," said Mr. Grummit, trembling with + eagerness, "and I wouldn't say a word to a soul. I'll take my solemn + davit I wouldn't." +</p> +<p> + "When I think o' my garden—" began the constable. With a sudden + movement he knocked off Mr. Grummit's cap, and then, seizing him by the + coat, began to hustle him along the road. In the twinkling of an eye + they had closed. +</p> +<p> + Tunwich church chimed the half-hour as they finished, and Mr. Grummit, + forgetting his own injuries, stood smiling at the wreck before him. The + constable's helmet had been smashed and trodden on; his uniform was torn + and covered with blood and dirt, and his good looks marred for a + fortnight at least. He stooped with a groan, and, recovering his helmet, + tried mechanically to punch it into shape. He stuck the battered relic + on his head, and Mr. Grummit fell back—awed, despite himself. +</p> +<p> + "It was a fair fight," he stammered. +</p> +<p> + The constable waved him away. "Get out o' my sight before I change my + mind," he said, fiercely; "and mind, if you say a word about this it'll + be the worse for you." +</p> +<p> + "Do you think I've gone mad?" said the other. He took another look at + his victim and, turning away, danced fantastically along the road home. + The constable, making his way to a gas-lamp, began to inspect damages. +</p> +<p> + They were worse even than he had thought, and, leaning against the + lamp-post, he sought in vain for an explanation that, in the absence of a + prisoner, would satisfy the inspector. A button which was hanging by a + thread fell tinkling on to the footpath, and he had just picked it up and + placed it in his pocket when a faint distant outcry broke upon his ear. +</p> +<p> + He turned and walked as rapidly as his condition would permit in the + direction of the noise. It became louder and more imperative, and cries + of "Police!" became distinctly audible. He quickened into a run, and + turning a corner beheld a little knot of people standing at the gate of a + large house. Other people only partially clad were hastening to-wards + them. The constable arrived out of breath. +</p> +<p> + "Better late than never," said the owner of the house, sarcastically. +</p> +<p> + Mr. Evans, breathing painfully, supported himself with his hand on the + fence. +</p> +<p> + "They went that way, but I suppose you didn't see them," continued the + householder. "Halloa!" he added, as somebody opened the hall door and + the constable's damaged condition became visible in the gas-light. "Are + you hurt?" +</p> +<p> + "Yes," said Mr. Evans, who was trying hard to think clearly. To gain + time he blew a loud call on his whistle. +</p> +<p> + "The rascals!" continued the other. "I think I should know the big chap + with a beard again, but the others were too quick for me." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Evans blew his whistle again—thoughtfully. The opportunity seemed + too good to lose. +</p> +<p> + "Did they get anything?" he inquired. +</p> +<p> + "Not a thing," said the owner, triumphantly. "I was disturbed just in + time." +</p> +<p> + The constable gave a slight gulp. "I saw the three running by the side + of the road," he said, slowly. "Their behaviour seemed suspicious, so I + collared the big one, but they set on me like wild cats. They had me + down three times; the last time I laid my head open against the kerb, and + when I came to my senses again they had gone." +</p> +<p> + He took off his battered helmet with a flourish and, amid a murmur of + sympathy, displayed a nasty cut on his head. A sergeant and a constable, + both running, appeared round the corner and made towards' them. +</p> +<p> + "Get back to the station and make your report," said the former, as + Constable Evans, in a somewhat defiant voice, repeated his story. + "You've done your best; I can see that." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Evans, enacting to perfection the part of a wounded hero, limped + painfully off, praying devoutly as he went that the criminals might make + good their escape. If not, he reflected that the word of a policeman was + at least equal to that of three burglars. +</p> +<p> + He repeated his story at the station, and, after having his head dressed, + was sent home and advised to keep himself quiet for a day or two. He was + off duty for four days, and, the Tunwich Gazette having devoted a column + to the affair, headed "A Gallant Constable," modestly secluded himself + from the public gaze for the whole of that time. +</p> +<p> + To Mr. Grummit, who had read the article in question until he could have + repeated it backwards, this modesty was particularly trying. The + constable's yard was deserted and the front door ever closed. Once Mr. + Grummit even went so far as to tap with his nails on the front parlour + window, and the only response was the sudden lowering of the blind. It + was not until a week afterwards that his eyes were gladdened by a sight + of the constable sitting in his yard; and fearing that even then he might + escape him, he ran out on tip-toe and put his face over the fence before + the latter was aware of his presence. +</p> +<p> + "Wot about that 'ere burglary?" he demanded in truculent tones. +</p> +<p> + "Good evening, Grummit," said the constable, with a patronizing air. +</p> +<p> + "Wot about that burglary?" repeated Mr. Grummit, with a scowl. "I don't + believe you ever saw a burglar." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Evans rose and stretched himself gracefully. "You'd better run + indoors, my good man," he said, slowly. +</p> +<p> + "Telling all them lies about burglars," continued the indignant Mr. + Grummit, producing his newspaper and waving it. "Why, I gave you that + black eye, I smashed your 'elmet, I cut your silly 'ead open, I——" +</p> +<p> + "You've been drinking," said the other, severely. +</p> +<p> + "You mean to say I didn't?" demanded Mr. Grummit, ferociously. +</p> +<p> + Mr. Evans came closer and eyed him steadily. "I don't know what you're + talking about," he said, calmly. +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit, about to speak, stopped appalled at such hardihood. +</p> +<p> + "Of course, if you mean to say that you were one o' them burglars," + continued the constable, "why, say it and I'll take you with pleasure. + Come to think of it, I did seem to remember one o' their voices." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit, with his eyes fixed on the other's, backed a couple of yards + and breathed heavily. +</p> +<p> + "About your height, too, he was," mused the constable. "I hope for your + sake you haven't been saying to anybody else what you said to me just + now." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit shook his head. "Not a word," he faltered. +</p> +<p> + "That's all right, then," said Mr. Evans. "I shouldn't like to be hard + on a neighbour; not that we shall be neighbours much longer." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit, feeling that a reply was expected of him, gave utterance to + a feeble "Oh!" +</p> +<p> + "No," said Mr. Evans, looking round disparagingly. "It ain't good enough + for us now; I was promoted to sergeant this morning. A sergeant can't + live in a common place like this." +</p> +<p> + Mr. Grummit, a prey to a sickening fear, drew near the fence again. "A— + a sergeant?" he stammered. +</p> +<p> + Mr. Evans smiled and gazed carefully at a distant cloud. "For my bravery + with them burglars the other night, Grummit," he said, modestly. "I + might have waited years if it hadn't been for them." +</p> +<p> + He nodded to the frantic Grummit and turned away; Mr. Grummit, without + any adieu at all, turned and crept back to the house. +</p> + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Constable's Move, by W.W. Jacobs + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONSTABLE'S MOVE *** + +***** This file should be named 11184-h.htm or 11184-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/1/8/11184/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Constable's Move + Captains All, Book 4. + +Author: W.W. Jacobs + +Release Date: February 20, 2004 [EBook #11184] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONSTABLE'S MOVE *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + +CAPTAINS ALL + +By W.W. Jacobs + + + +THE CONSTABLE'S MOVE + +[Illustration: "The Constable's Move."] + +Mr. Bob Grummit sat in the kitchen with his corduroy-clad legs stretched +on the fender. His wife's half-eaten dinner was getting cold on the +table; Mr. Grummit, who was badly in need of cheering up, emptied her +half-empty glass of beer and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. + +"Come away, I tell you," he called. "D'ye hear? Come away. You'll be +locked up if you don't." + +He gave a little laugh at the sarcasm, and sticking his short pipe in his +mouth lurched slowly to the front-room door and scowled at his wife as +she lurked at the back of the window watching intently the furniture +which was being carried in next door. + +"Come away or else you'll be locked up," repeated Mr. Grummit. "You +mustn't look at policemen's furniture; it's agin the law." + +Mrs. Grummit made no reply, but, throwing appearances to the winds, +stepped to the window until her nose touched, as a walnut sideboard with +bevelled glass back was tenderly borne inside under the personal +supervision of Police-Constable Evans. + +"They'll be 'aving a pianner next," said the indignant Mr. Grummit, +peering from the depths of the room. + +"They've got one," responded his wife; "there's the end if it stickin' up +in the van." + +Mr. Grummit advanced and regarded the end fixedly. "Did you throw all +them tin cans and things into their yard wot I told you to?" he demanded. + +"He picked up three of 'em while I was upstairs," replied his wife. "I +'eard 'im tell her that they'd come in handy for paint and things." + +"That's 'ow coppers get on and buy pianners," said the incensed Mr. +Grummit, "sneaking other people's property. I didn't tell you to throw +good 'uns over, did I? Wot d'ye mean by it?" + +Mrs. Grummit made no reply, but watched with bated breath the triumphal +entrance of the piano. The carman set it tenderly on the narrow +footpath, while P. C. Evans, stooping low, examined it at all points, and +Mrs. Evans, raising the lid, struck a few careless chords. + +"Showing off," explained Mrs. Grummit, with a half turn; "and she's got +fingers like carrots." + +"It's a disgrace to Mulberry Gardens to 'ave a copper come and live in +it," said the indignant Grummit; "and to come and live next to me!-- +that's what I can't get over. To come and live next door to a man wot +has been fined twice, and both times wrong. Why, for two pins I'd go in +and smash 'is pianner first and 'im after it. He won't live 'ere long, +you take my word for it." + +"Why not?" inquired his wife. + +"Why?" repeated Mr. Grummit. "Why? Why, becos I'll make the place too +'ot to hold him. Ain't there enough houses in Tunwich without 'im +a-coming and living next door to me?" + +For a whole week the brain concealed in Mr. Grummit's bullet-shaped head +worked in vain, and his temper got correspondingly bad. The day after +the Evans' arrival he had found his yard littered with tins which he +recognized as old acquaintances, and since that time they had travelled +backwards and forwards with monotonous regularity. They sometimes made +as many as three journeys a day, and on one occasion the heavens opened +to drop a battered tin bucket on the back of Mr. Grummit as he was tying +his bootlace. Five minutes later he spoke of the outrage to Mr. Evans, +who had come out to admire the sunset. + +"I heard something fall," said the constable, eyeing the pail curiously. + +"You threw it," said Mr. Grummit, breathing furiously. + +"Me? Nonsense," said the other, easily. "I was having tea in the +parlour with my wife and my mother-in-law, and my brother Joe and his +young lady." + +"Any more of 'em?" demanded the hapless Mr. Grummit, aghast at this list +of witnesses for an alibi. + +"It ain't a bad pail, if you look at it properly," said the constable. +"I should keep it if I was you; unless the owner offers a reward for it. +It'll hold enough water for your wants." + +Mr. Grummit flung indoors and, after wasting some time concocting +impossible measures of retaliation with his sympathetic partner, went off +to discuss affairs with his intimates at the _Bricklayers' Arms_. The +company, although unanimously agreeing that Mr. Evans ought to be boiled, +were miserably deficient in ideas as to the means by which such a +desirable end was to be attained. + +"Make 'im a laughing-stock, that's the best thing," said an elderly +labourer. "The police don't like being laughed at." + +"'Ow?" demanded Mr. Grummit, with some asperity. + +"There's plenty o' ways," said the old man. + +"I should find 'em out fast enough if I 'ad a bucket dropped on my back, +I know." + +Mr. Grummit made a retort the feebleness of which was somewhat balanced +by its ferocity, and subsided into glum silence. His back still ached, +but, despite that aid to intellectual effort, the only ways he could +imagine of making the constable look foolish contained an almost certain +risk of hard labour for himself. + +He pondered the question for a week, and meanwhile the tins--to the +secret disappointment of Mr. Evans--remained untouched in his yard. For +the whole of the time he went about looking, as Mrs. Grummit expressed +it, as though his dinner had disagreed with him. + +"I've been talking to old Bill Smith," he said, suddenly, as he came in +one night. + +Mrs. Grummit looked up, and noticed with wifely pleasure that he was +looking almost cheerful. + +"He's given me a tip," said Mr. Grummit, with a faint smile; "a copper +mustn't come into a free-born Englishman's 'ouse unless he's invited." + +"Wot of it?" inquired his wife. "You wasn't think of asking him in, was +you?" + +Mr. Grummit regarded her almost play-fully. "If a copper comes in +without being told to," he continued, "he gets into trouble for it. Now +d'ye see?" + +"But he won't come," said the puzzled Mrs. Grummit. + +Mr. Grummit winked. "Yes 'e will if you scream loud enough," he +retorted. "Where's the copper-stick?" + +"Have you gone mad?" demanded his wife, "or do you think I 'ave?" + +"You go up into the bedroom," said Mr. Grummit, emphasizing his remarks +with his forefinger. "I come up and beat the bed black and blue with the +copper-stick; you scream for mercy and call out 'Help!' 'Murder!' and +things like that. Don't call out 'Police!' cos Bill ain't sure about +that part. Evans comes bursting in to save your life--I'll leave the +door on the latch--and there you are. He's sure to get into trouble for +it. Bill said so. He's made a study o' that sort o' thing." + +Mrs. Grummit pondered this simple plan so long that her husband began to +lose patience. At last, against her better sense, she rose and fetched +the weapon in question. + +"And you be careful what you're hitting," she said, as they went upstairs +to bed. "We'd better have 'igh words first, I s'pose?" + +"You pitch into me with your tongue," said Mr. Grummit, amiably. + +Mrs. Grummit, first listening to make sure that the constable and his +wife were in the bedroom the other side of the flimsy wall, complied, and +in a voice that rose gradually to a piercing falsetto told Mr. Grummit +things that had been rankling in her mind for some months. She raked up +misdemeanours that he had long since forgotten, and, not content with +that, had a fling at the entire Grummit family, beginning with her +mother-in-law and ending with Mr. Grummit's youngest sister. The hand +that held the copper-stick itched. + +"Any more to say?" demanded Mr. Grummit advancing upon her. + +Mrs. Grummit emitted a genuine shriek, and Mr. Grummit, suddenly +remembering himself, stopped short and attacked the bed with +extraordinary fury. The room resounded with the blows, and the efforts +of Mrs. Grummit were a revelation even to her husband. + +[Illustration: "Mr. Grummit, suddenly remembering himself, stopped short +and attacked the bed with extraordinary fury."] + +"I can hear 'im moving," whispered Mr. Grummit, pausing to take breath. + +"Mur--der!" wailed his wife. "Help! Help!" + +Mr. Grummit, changing the stick into his left hand, renewed the attack; +Mrs. Grummit, whose voice was becoming exhausted, sought a temporary +relief in moans. + +"Is--he----deaf?" panted the wife-beater, "or wot?" + +He knocked over a chair, and Mrs. Grummit contrived another frenzied +scream. A loud knocking sounded on the wall. + +"Hel--lp!" moaned Mrs. Grummit. + +"Halloa, there!" came the voice of the constable. "Why don't you keep +that baby quiet? We can't get a wink of sleep." + +Mr. Grummit dropped the stick on the bed and turned a dazed face to his +wife. + +"He--he's afraid--to come in," he gasped. "Keep it up, old gal." + +He took up the stick again and Mrs. Grummit did her best, but the heart +had gone out of the thing, and he was about to give up the task as +hopeless when the door below was heard to open with a bang. + +"Here he is," cried the jubilant Grummit. "Now!" + +His wife responded, and at the same moment the bedroom door was flung +open, and her brother, who had been hastily fetched by the neighbours on +the other side, burst into the room and with one hearty blow sent Mr. +Grummit sprawling. + +"Hit my sister, will you?" he roared, as the astounded Mr. Grummit rose. +"Take that!" + +Mr. Grummit took it, and several other favours, while his wife, tugging +at her brother, endeavoured to explain. It was not, however, until Mr. +Grummit claimed the usual sanctuary of the defeated by refusing to rise +that she could make herself heard. + +"Joke?" repeated her brother, incredulously. "Joke?" + +Mrs. Grummit in a husky voice explained. + +Her brother passed from incredulity to amazement and from amazement to +mirth. He sat down gurgling, and the indignant face of the injured +Grummit only added to his distress. + +"Best joke I ever heard in my life," he said, wiping his eyes. "Don't +look at me like that, Bob; I can't bear it." + +"Get off 'ome," responded Mr. Grummit, glowering at him. + +"There's a crowd outside, and half the doors in the place open," said the +other. "Well, it's a good job there's no harm done. So long." + +He passed, beaming, down the stairs, and Mr. Grummit, drawing near the +window, heard him explaining in a broken voice to the neighbours outside. +Strong men patted him on the back and urged him gruffly to say what he +had to say and laugh afterwards. Mr. Grummit turned from the window, and +in a slow and stately fashion prepared to retire for the night. Even the +sudden and startling disappearance of Mrs. Grummit as she got into bed +failed to move him. + +"The bed's broke, Bob," she said faintly. + +"Beds won't last for ever," he said, shortly; "sleep on the floor." + +Mrs. Grummit clambered out, and after some trouble secured the bedclothes +and made up a bed in a corner of the room. In a short time she was fast +asleep; but her husband, broad awake, spent the night in devising further +impracticable schemes for the discomfiture of the foe next door. + +He saw Mr. Evans next morning as he passed on his way to work. The +constable was at the door smoking in his shirt-sleeves, and Mr. Grummit +felt instinctively that he was waiting there to see him pass. + +"I heard you last night," said the constable, playfully. "My word! Good +gracious!" + +"Wot's the matter with you?" demanded Mr. Grummit, stopping short. + +The constable stared at him. "She has been knocking you about," he +gasped. "Why, it must ha' been you screaming, then! I thought it +sounded loud. Why don't you go and get a summons and have her locked up? +I should be pleased to take her." + +Mr. Grummit faced him, quivering with passion. "Wot would it cost if I +set about you?" he demanded, huskily. + +"Two months," said Mr. Evans, smiling serenely; "p'r'aps three." + +Mr. Grummit hesitated and his fists clenched nervously. The constable, +lounging against his door-post, surveyed him with a dispassionate smile. +"That would be besides what you'd get from me," he said, softly. + +"Come out in the road," said Mr. Grummit, with sudden violence. + +"It's agin the rules," said Mr. Evans; "sorry I can't. Why not go and +ask your wife's brother to oblige you?" + +He went in laughing and closed the door, and Mr. Grummit, after a +frenzied outburst, proceeded on his way, returning the smiles of such +acquaintances as he passed with an icy stare or a strongly-worded offer +to make them laugh the other side of their face. The rest of the day he +spent in working so hard that he had no time to reply to the anxious +inquiries of his fellow-workmen. + +He came home at night glum and silent, the hardship of not being able to +give Mr. Evans his deserts without incurring hard labour having weighed +on his spirits all day. To avoid the annoyance of the piano next door, +which was slowly and reluctantly yielding up "_The Last Rose of Summer_" +note by note, he went out at the back, and the first thing he saw was Mr. +Evans mending his path with tins and other bric-a-brac. + +"Nothing like it," said the constable, looking up. "Your missus gave 'em +to us this morning. A little gravel on top, and there you are." + +He turned whistling to his work again, and the other, after endeavouring +in vain to frame a suitable reply, took a seat on an inverted wash-tub +and lit his pipe. His one hope was that Constable Evans was going to try +and cultivate a garden. + +The hope was realized a few days later, and Mr. Grummit at the back +window sat gloating over a dozen fine geraniums, some lobelias and +calceolarias, which decorated the constable's plot of ground. He could +not sleep for thinking of them. + +He rose early the next morning, and, after remarking to Mrs. Grummit that +Mr. Evans's flowers looked as though they wanted rain, went off to his +work. The cloud which had been on his spirits for some time had lifted, +and he whistled as he walked. The sight of flowers in front windows +added to his good humour. + +He was still in good spirits when he left off work that afternoon, but +some slight hesitation about returning home sent him to the Brick-layers' +firms instead. He stayed there until closing time, and then, being still +disinclined for home, paid a visit to Bill Smith, who lived the other +side of Tunwich. By the time he started for home it was nearly midnight. + +The outskirts of the town were deserted and the houses in darkness. The +clock of Tunwich church struck twelve, and the last stroke was just dying +away as he turned a corner and ran almost into the arms of the man he had +been trying to avoid. + +"Halloa!" said Constable Evans, sharply. "Here, I want a word with you." + +Mr. Grummit quailed. "With me, sir?" he said, with involuntary respect. + +"What have you been doing to my flowers?" demanded the other, hotly. + +"Flowers?" repeated Mr. Grummit, as though the word were new to him. +"Flowers? What flowers?" + +"You know well enough," retorted the constable. "You got over my fence +last night and smashed all my flowers down." + +"You be careful wot you're saying," urged Mr. Grummit. "Why, I love +flowers. You don't mean to tell me that all them beautiful flowers wot +you put in so careful 'as been spoiled?" + +"You know all about it," said the constable, choking. "I shall take out +a summons against you for it." + +"Ho!" said Mr. Grummit. "And wot time do you say it was when I done it?" + +"Never you mind the time," said the other. + +"Cos it's important," said Mr. Grummit. + +"My wife's brother--the one you're so fond of--slept in my 'ouse last +night. He was ill arf the night, pore chap; but, come to think of it, +it'll make 'im a good witness for my innocence." + +"If I wasn't a policeman," said Mr. Evans, speaking with great +deliberation, "I'd take hold o' you, Bob Grummit, and I'd give you the +biggest hiding you've ever had in your life." + +"If you wasn't a policeman," said Mr. Grummit, yearningly, "I'd arf +murder you." + +The two men eyed each other wistfully, loth to part. + +"If I gave you what you deserve I should get into trouble," said the +constable. + +"If I gave you a quarter of wot you ought to 'ave I should go to quod," +sighed Mr. Grummit. + +"I wouldn't put you there," said the constable, earnestly; "I swear I +wouldn't." + +"Everything's beautiful and quiet," said Mr. Grummit, trembling with +eagerness, "and I wouldn't say a word to a soul. I'll take my solemn +davit I wouldn't." + +"When I think o' my garden--" began the constable. With a sudden +movement he knocked off Mr. Grummit's cap, and then, seizing him by the +coat, began to hustle him along the road. In the twinkling of an eye +they had closed. + +Tunwich church chimed the half-hour as they finished, and Mr. Grummit, +forgetting his own injuries, stood smiling at the wreck before him. The +constable's helmet had been smashed and trodden on; his uniform was torn +and covered with blood and dirt, and his good looks marred for a +fortnight at least. He stooped with a groan, and, recovering his helmet, +tried mechanically to punch it into shape. He stuck the battered relic +on his head, and Mr. Grummit fell back--awed, despite himself. + +"It was a fair fight," he stammered. + +The constable waved him away. "Get out o' my sight before I change my +mind," he said, fiercely; "and mind, if you say a word about this it'll +be the worse for you." + +"Do you think I've gone mad?" said the other. He took another look at +his victim and, turning away, danced fantastically along the road home. +The constable, making his way to a gas-lamp, began to inspect damages. + +They were worse even than he had thought, and, leaning against the +lamp-post, he sought in vain for an explanation that, in the absence of a +prisoner, would satisfy the inspector. A button which was hanging by a +thread fell tinkling on to the footpath, and he had just picked it up and +placed it in his pocket when a faint distant outcry broke upon his ear. + +He turned and walked as rapidly as his condition would permit in the +direction of the noise. It became louder and more imperative, and cries +of "Police!" became distinctly audible. He quickened into a run, and +turning a corner beheld a little knot of people standing at the gate of a +large house. Other people only partially clad were hastening to-wards +them. The constable arrived out of breath. + +"Better late than never," said the owner of the house, sarcastically. + +Mr. Evans, breathing painfully, supported himself with his hand on the +fence. + +"They went that way, but I suppose you didn't see them," continued the +householder. "Halloa!" he added, as somebody opened the hall door and +the constable's damaged condition became visible in the gas-light. "Are +you hurt?" + +"Yes," said Mr. Evans, who was trying hard to think clearly. To gain +time he blew a loud call on his whistle. + +"The rascals!" continued the other. "I think I should know the big chap +with a beard again, but the others were too quick for me." + +Mr. Evans blew his whistle again--thoughtfully. The opportunity seemed +too good to lose. + +"Did they get anything?" he inquired. + +"Not a thing," said the owner, triumphantly. "I was disturbed just in +time." + +The constable gave a slight gulp. "I saw the three running by the side +of the road," he said, slowly. "Their behaviour seemed suspicious, so I +collared the big one, but they set on me like wild cats. They had me +down three times; the last time I laid my head open against the kerb, and +when I came to my senses again they had gone." + +He took off his battered helmet with a flourish and, amid a murmur of +sympathy, displayed a nasty cut on his head. A sergeant and a constable, +both running, appeared round the corner and made towards' them. + +"Get back to the station and make your report," said the former, as +Constable Evans, in a somewhat defiant voice, repeated his story. +"You've done your best; I can see that." + +Mr. Evans, enacting to perfection the part of a wounded hero, limped +painfully off, praying devoutly as he went that the criminals might make +good their escape. If not, he reflected that the word of a policeman was +at least equal to that of three burglars. + +He repeated his story at the station, and, after having his head dressed, +was sent home and advised to keep himself quiet for a day or two. He was +off duty for four days, and, the Tunwich Gazette having devoted a column +to the affair, headed "A Gallant Constable," modestly secluded himself +from the public gaze for the whole of that time. + +To Mr. Grummit, who had read the article in question until he could have +repeated it backwards, this modesty was particularly trying. The +constable's yard was deserted and the front door ever closed. Once Mr. +Grummit even went so far as to tap with his nails on the front parlour +window, and the only response was the sudden lowering of the blind. It +was not until a week afterwards that his eyes were gladdened by a sight +of the constable sitting in his yard; and fearing that even then he might +escape him, he ran out on tip-toe and put his face over the fence before +the latter was aware of his presence. + +"Wot about that 'ere burglary?" he demanded in truculent tones. + +"Good evening, Grummit," said the constable, with a patronizing air. + +"Wot about that burglary?" repeated Mr. Grummit, with a scowl. "I don't +believe you ever saw a burglar." + +Mr. Evans rose and stretched himself gracefully. "You'd better run +indoors, my good man," he said, slowly. + +"Telling all them lies about burglars," continued the indignant Mr. +Grummit, producing his newspaper and waving it. "Why, I gave you that +black eye, I smashed your 'elmet, I cut your silly 'ead open, I----" + +"You've been drinking," said the other, severely. + +"You mean to say I didn't?" demanded Mr. Grummit, ferociously. + +Mr. Evans came closer and eyed him steadily. "I don't know what you're +talking about," he said, calmly. + +Mr. Grummit, about to speak, stopped appalled at such hardihood. + +"Of course, if you mean to say that you were one o' them burglars," +continued the constable, "why, say it and I'll take you with pleasure. +Come to think of it, I did seem to remember one o' their voices." + +Mr. Grummit, with his eyes fixed on the other's, backed a couple of yards +and breathed heavily. + +"About your height, too, he was," mused the constable. "I hope for your +sake you haven't been saying to anybody else what you said to me just +now." + +Mr. Grummit shook his head. "Not a word," he faltered. + +"That's all right, then," said Mr. Evans. "I shouldn't like to be hard +on a neighbour; not that we shall be neighbours much longer." + +Mr. Grummit, feeling that a reply was expected of him, gave utterance to +a feeble "Oh!" + +"No," said Mr. Evans, looking round disparagingly. "It ain't good enough +for us now; I was promoted to sergeant this morning. A sergeant can't +live in a common place like this." + +Mr. Grummit, a prey to a sickening fear, drew near the fence again. "A-- +a sergeant?" he stammered. + +Mr. Evans smiled and gazed carefully at a distant cloud. "For my bravery +with them burglars the other night, Grummit," he said, modestly. "I +might have waited years if it hadn't been for them." + +He nodded to the frantic Grummit and turned away; Mr. Grummit, without +any adieu at all, turned and crept back to the house. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Constable's Move, by W.W. 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