Bindle Part 34

Mr. Rogers was the first to disentangle himself from the struggling ma.s.s.

"Stop it, you little beasts! Stop it!" he shouted.

They stopped it, gazing in wonderment at their father as he once more dashed down the stairs. At the door Mr. Rogers found Mrs. Rogers and the two maids talking to the next-door neighbour, Mrs. Clark, who was there with her maid, whom Bindle had addressed as "Ruthie." As he approached, Mrs. Clark was saying:

"I thought there must be something wrong, the man looked such a desperate fellow."

"Then why didn't you inform the police?" snapped Mr. Rogers.

"It was not my business, Mr. Rogers," replied Mrs. Clark with dignity. Then, turning to Mrs. Rogers and the maid, she added, "The way that man spoke to my maid was a scandal, and he was most insolent to me also."

"Get in, you little devils, get in!" Mr. Rogers roared.

"Albert dear, don't!" expostulated Mrs. Rogers with unaccustomed temerity.

"In you get!" he repeated. And the family and maids were packed once more into the omnibus.

"Back to the police-station," shouted Mr. Rogers.

Just as the vehicle was on the move Mrs. Clark came down to the gate and called out, "I told Archie to follow the van on his bicycle in case anything was wrong. He's got the address, but I have forgotten it. He will be back in a minute. It was somewhere in Chiswick."

"Send him round to the police-station," shouted Mr. Rogers. "For G.o.d's sake hurry, this is not a funeral," he almost shrieked to the driver.

"No, an' I ain't no bloomin' n.i.g.g.e.r neither," growled the man.

Neighbours were at their gates, scenting trouble in the way that neighbours will. All sorts of rumours were afloat, the prevalent idea being that Mr. Rogers was a bankrupt, and that his furniture had been taken by the representatives of his creditors.

At the police-station Mr. Rogers once more bounced from the omnibus, the little Rogerses climbing out after him. This time the nursemaid joined the crowd in the charge-room.

"I have been robbed," almost sobbed Mr. Rogers; then with unconscious irony added, "Everything has gone, except my wife and children."

The sergeant was conventionally sympathetic, but officially reticent. A man should be sent to No. 131 Branksome Road, to inst.i.tute enquiries.

"What the devil is the use of that?" shouted Mr. Rogers. "I want my furniture, and it's not in my house. What are the police for?"

"I want my horse!" Eustace set up another howl. He, together with his six brothers and sisters and the nursemaid, were now ranged behind their father, looking with large-eyed wonder at the sergeant.

"Look at these!" Mr. Rogers turned and with a sweep of his hand indicated his progeny as if he were a barrister calling attention to a row of exhibits. "What am I to do with them to-night?"

There was another howl from Eustace, and a whimper from Muriel the youngest.

The sergeant had not been on duty when Bindle called for the key, but he had heard it said that the key of No. 131 had been handed to the bearer of a letter from a firm of furniture-removers. This he explained to Mr. Rogers, regretting that apparently the letter itself had been put aside. On Monday the whole matter should be threshed out and the guilty brought to justice.

He gave the a.s.surance rather as an official formality than as the result of any inherent conviction of his own.

"Monday?" almost shrieked Mr. Rogers. "What am I to do until Monday?"

The sergeant suggested that perhaps the neighbours might extend hospitality.

"Who is going to take in eleven people?" shouted Mr. Rogers. "We shall all starve!"

At this announcement the Rogerses, who were all st.u.r.dy trenchermen, set up such a howl as to bring Mrs. Rogers and the other maid out of the omnibus.

Just at that moment Archie Clark, a precocious youth of twelve, rode up full of importance and information. He pushed his way through the ma.s.s of Rogerses, and without preliminary shouted, "33 Lebanon Avenue, Chiswick; that's where the van went."

The sergeant picked up a pen and began to take down the address.

"Get into the bus, get in, all of you," shouted Mr. Rogers. He saw that little help was to be obtained from the police. In the hurry of getting off, somehow or other and in spite of his protests, Archie Clark was bundled into the omnibus and Eustace was left howling on the pavement beside Archie's bicycle.

III

Bindle had discovered at the office that the new occupants of 33 Lebanon Avenue expected to reach Chiswick about six o'clock on the day following the move. It was nearly a quarter to seven before their taxi hove in sight. Bindle sauntered up the avenue whistling, and arrived just in time to see Mr. Daniel Granger open the front door with a key, enter, and suddenly bolt out very hurriedly and examine the number; then he looked in again and called to Mrs. Granger, a thin little woman, with round black eyes and a porcelain smile that deceived no one.

Mrs. Granger tripped up the path and followed the burly form of her husband through the door. By this time Bindle had reached the gate.

"Want a 'and wi' the luggage, mate?" he enquired of the taxi-driver.

"Maybe yes, maybe no," was the reply.

Bindle examined the man curiously.

"You ain't a-goin' to take no risks, ole card, I can see that," he retorted with a grin. "I 'ad a mate once 'oo said that to the parson at 'is weddin', an' 'is missis is never quite sure whether she's a respectable woman or ought to be a widder. You'll 'ave to get out of that 'abit; it's as bad as stutterin'."

The taxi-driver grinned.

"I knew a cove," began Bindle, "wot--"

At that moment Mr. Railton-Rogers's omnibus drew up behind the taxi, and before it had stopped Mr. Rogers bounced out, followed by his entire suite of wife, progeny, and retainers. Into the house he dashed, and as he recognised his lares and penates he uttered a howl of triumph.

The hall was dark, and he fell over a chair, which brought Mr. and Mrs. Granger out from the dining-room.

"So I've caught you," shouted Mr. Rogers triumphantly, looking up defiantly at the burly form of Mr. Granger, whose good-humoured blue eyes wore a puzzled expression. "You're a thief, a daylight-robber; but I've caught you."

Mr. Rogers planted himself in the doorway. Mr. and Mrs. Granger looked at each other in mute wonder.

"Will you kindly get out of the way?" requested Mr. Granger.

"No, I won't. I've caught you and I mean to keep you," said Mr. Rogers, making a clutch at Mr. Granger's coat-sleeve. Then something happened, and Mr. Rogers found himself sitting in the hall, and Mr. and Mrs. Granger were walking down the path towards their taxi.

"Police! fetch a policeman! Don't let them escape," yelled Mr. Rogers, and the cry was taken up by his family and retainers. Mr. Rogers picked himself up and dashed down the path shouting to the drivers of the taxi and the omnibus that, if they aided and abetted the criminals to escape, their doom was certain.

"'As anythin' 'appened, sir?" enquired the taxi-driver civilly.

Bindle had retired behind a tree in order to avoid being seen. He had recognised Archie Clark.

"He's stolen my furniture--'

"Shut up, you silly little a.s.s," interrupted Mr. Granger. Then turning to the taxi-driver he said, "Perhaps you had better fetch a policeman."