The Changing Numbers Read online

vaguely.

  To his surprise, Mr. Gunnill started up from his chair and, gripping hishand, shook it fervently. He looked round, and Selina was regarding himwith a glance so tender that he lost his head completely. Before he hadrecovered he had pledged himself to lay the helmet and truncheon of theredoubtable Mr. Cooper at the feet of Miss Gunnill; exact date notspecified.

  "Of course, I shall have to wait my opportunity," he said, at last.

  "You wait as long as you like, my boy," said the thoughtless Mr. Gunnill.

  Mr. Sims thanked him.

  "Wait till Cooper's an old man," urged Mr. Drill.

  Miss Gunnill, secretly disappointed at the lack of boldness and devotionon the part of the latter gentleman, eyed his stalwart frame indignantlyand accused him of trying to make Mr. Sims as timid as himself. Sheturned to the valiant Sims and made herself so agreeable to that daringblade that Mr. Drill, a prey to violent jealousy, bade the company a curtgood-night and withdrew.

  He stayed away for nearly a week, and then one evening as he approachedthe house, carrying a carpet-bag, he saw the door just opening to admitthe fortunate Herbert. He quickened his pace and arrived just in time tofollow him in. Mr. Sims, who bore under his arm a brown-paper parcel,seemed somewhat embarrassed at seeing him, and after a brief greetingwalked into the room, and with a triumphant glance at Mr. Gunnill andSelina placed his burden on the table.

  "He saw the door just opening to admit the fortunateHerbert."]

  "You--you ain't got it?" said Mr. Gunnill, leaning forward.

  "How foolish of you to run such a risk!" said Selina.

  "I brought it for Miss Gunnill," said the young man, simply. Heunfastened the parcel, and to the astonishment of all present revealed apoliceman's helmet and a short boxwood truncheon.

  "You--you're a wonder," said the gloating Mr. Gunnill. "Look at it,Ted!"

  Mr. Drill was looking at it; it may be doubted whether the head of Mr.Cooper itself could have caused him more astonishment. Then his eyessought those of Mr. Sims, but that gentleman was gazing tenderly at thegratified but shocked Selina.

  "How ever did you do it?" inquired Mr. Gunnill.

  "Came behind him and threw him down," said Mr. Sims, nonchalantly. "Hewas that scared I believe I could have taken his boots as well if I'dwanted them."

  Mr. Gunnill patted him on the back. "I fancy I can see him runningbare-headed through the town calling for help," he said, smiling.

  Mr. Sims shook his head. "Like as not it'll be kept quiet for the creditof the force," he said, slowly, "unless, of course, they discover who didit."

  A slight shade fell on the good-humoured countenance of Mr. Gunnill, butit was chased away almost immediately by Sims reminding him of the chaffof Cooper's brother-constables.

  "And you might take the others away," said Mr. Gunnill, brightening; "youmight keep on doing it."

  Mr. Sims said doubtfully that he might, but pointed out that Cooper wouldprobably be on his guard for the future.

  "Yes, you've done your share," said Miss Gunnill, with a half-glance atMr. Drill, who was still gazing in a bewildered fashion at the trophies."You can come into the kitchen and help me draw some beer if you like."

  Mr. Sims followed her joyfully, and reaching down a jug for her watchedher tenderly as she drew the beer. All women love valour, but MissGunnill, gazing sadly at the slight figure of Mr. Sims, could not helpwishing that Mr. Drill possessed a little of his spirit.

  "Mr. Sims watched her tenderly as she drew the beer."]

  She had just finished her task when a tremendous bumping noise was heardin the living-room, and the plates on the dresser were nearly shaken offtheir shelves.

  "What's that?" she cried.

  They ran to the room and stood aghast in the doorway at the spectacle ofMr. Gunnill, with his clenched fists held tightly by his side, boundinginto the air with all the grace of a trained acrobat, while Mr. Drillencouraged him from an easy-chair. Mr. Gunnill smiled broadly as he mettheir astonished gaze, and with a final bound kicked something along thefloor and subsided into his seat panting.

  Mr. Sims, suddenly enlightened, uttered a cry of dismay and, dartingunder the table, picked up what had once been a policeman's helmet. Thenhe snatched a partially consumed truncheon from the fire, and stood whiteand trembling before the astonished Mr. Gunnill.

  "What's the matter?" inquired the latter. "You--you've spoilt 'em,"gasped Mr. Sims. "What of it?" said Mr. Gunnill, staring.

  "I was--going to take 'em away," stammered Mr. Sims.

  "Well, they'll be easier to carry now," said Mr. Drill, simply.

  Mr. Sims glanced at him sharply, and then, to the extreme astonishment ofMr. Gunnill, snatched up the relics and, wrapping them up in the paper,dashed out of the house. Mr. Gunnill turned a look of blank inquiry uponMr. Drill.

  "It wasn't Cooper's number on the helmet," said that gentleman.

  "Eh?" shouted Mr. Gunnill.

  "How do you know?" inquired Selina.

  "I just happened to notice," replied Mr. Drill. He reached down asthough to take up the carpet-bag which he had placed by the side of hischair, and then, apparently thinking better of it, leaned back in hisseat and eyed Mr. Gunnill.

  "Do you mean to tell me," said the latter, "that he's been and upset thewrong man?"

  Mr. Drill shook his head. "That's the puzzle," he said, softly.

  He smiled over at Miss Gunnill, but that young lady, who found himsomewhat mysterious, looked away and frowned. Her father sat andexhausted conjecture, his final conclusion being that Mr. Sims hadattacked the first policeman that had come in his way and was nowsuffering the agonies of remorse.

  He raised his head sharply at the sound of hurried footsteps outside.There was a smart rap at the street door, then the handle was turned, andthe next moment, to the dismay of all present, the red and angry face ofone of Mr. Cooper's brother-constables was thrust into the room.

  Mr. Gunnill gazed at it in helpless fascination. The body of theconstable garbed in plain clothes followed the face and, standing beforehim in a menacing fashion, held out a broken helmet and staff.

  "Have you seen these afore?" he inquired, in a terrible voice.

  "No," said Mr. Gunnill, with an attempt at surprise. "What are they?"

  "I'll tell you what they are," said Police-constable Jenkins,ferociously; "they're my helmet and truncheon. You've been spoiling HisMajesty's property, and you'll be locked up."

  "Yours?" said the astonished Mr. Gunnill.

  "I lent 'em to young Sims, just for a joke," said the constable. "I feltall along I was doing a silly thing."

  "It's no joke," said Mr. Gunnill, severely. "I'll tell young Herbertwhat I think of him trying to deceive me like that."

  "Never mind about deceiving," interrupted the constable. "What are yougoing to do about it?"

  "What are you?" inquired Mr. Gunnill, hardily. "It seems to me it'sbetween you and him; you'll very likely be dismissed from the force, andall through trying to deceive. I wash my hands of it."

  "You'd no business to lend it," said Drill, interrupting the constable'sindignant retort; "especially for Sims to pretend that he had stolen itfrom Cooper. It's a roundabout sort of thing, but you can't tell of Mr.Gunnill without getting into trouble yourself."

  "I shall have to put up with that," said the constable, desperately;"it's got to be explained. It's my day-helmet, too, and the night one'sas shabby as can be. Twenty years in the force and never a mark againstmy name till now."

  "If you'd only keep quiet a bit instead of talking so much," said Mr.Drill, who had been doing some hard thinking, "I might be able to helpyou, p'r'aps."

  "How?" inquired the constable.

  "Help him if you can, Ted," said Mr. Gunnill, eagerly; "we ought all tohelp others when we get a chance."

  Mr. Drill sat bolt upright and looked very wise.

  He took the smashed helmet from the table and examined it carefully. Itwas broken in at least half-a-dozen places, a
nd he laboured in vain topush it into shape. He might as well have tried to make a silk hat outof a concertina. The only thing that had escaped injury was the metalplate with the number.

  "Why don't you mend it?" he inquired, at last.

  "Mend it?" shouted the incensed Mr. Jenkins. "Why don't you?"

  "I think I could," said Mr. Drill, slowly; "give me half an hour in thekitchen and I'll try."

  "Have as long as you like," said Mr. Gunnill.

  "And I shall want some glue, and Miss Gunnill, and some tin-tacks," saidDrill.

  "What do you want me for?" inquired Selina.

  "To hold the things for me," replied Mr. Drill.

  Miss Gunnill tossed her head, but after a little demur consented; andDrill, ignoring the impatience of the constable, picked up his bag andled the way into the kitchen. Messrs. Gunnill and Jenkins, left behindin the living-room, sought for some neutral topic of discourse, but invain; conversation would revolve round hard labour and lost pensions.From the kitchen came sounds of hammering, then a loud "Ooh!" from MissGunnill, followed by a burst of laughter and a clapping of hands. Mr.Jenkins shifted in his seat and exchanged glances with Mr. Gunnill.

  "From the kitchen came sounds of hammering."]

  "He's a clever fellow," said that gentleman, hopefully. "You should hearhim imitate a canary; life-like it is."

  Mr. Jenkins was about to make a hasty and obvious rejoinder, when thekitchen door opened and Selina emerged, followed by Drill. The snarlwhich the constable had prepared died away in a murmur of astonishment ashe took the helmet. It looked as good as ever.

  He turned it over and over in amaze, and looked in vain for any signs ofthe disastrous cracks. It was stiff and upright. He looked at thenumber: it was his own. His eyes round with astonishment he tried it on,and then his face relaxed.

  "It don't fit as well as it did," he said.

  "Well, upon my word, some people are never satisfied," said the indignantDrill. "There isn't another man in England could have done it better."

  "I'm not grumbling," said the constable, hastily; "it's a wonderful pieceo' work. Wonderful! I can't even see where it was broke. How on earthdid you do it?"

  Drill shook his head. "It's a secret process," he said, slowly. "Imight want to go into the hat trade some day, and I'm not going to givethings away."

  "Quite right," said Mr. Jenkins. "Still--well, it's a marvel, that'swhat it is; a fair marvel. If you take my advice you'll go in the hattrade to-morrow, my lad."

  "I'm not surprised," said Mr. Gunnill, whose face as he spoke was a mapof astonishment. "Not a bit. I've seen him do more surprising thingsthan that. Have a go at the staff now, Teddy."

  "I'll see about it," said Mr. Drill, modestly. "I can't doimpossibilities. You leave it here, Mr. Jenkins, and we'll talk about itlater on."

  Mr. Jenkins, still marvelling over his helmet, assented, and, afteranother reference to the possibilities in the hat trade to a man with aborn gift for repairs, wrapped his property in a piece of newspaper anddeparted, whistling.

  "Ted," said Mr. Gunnill, impressively, as he sank into his chair with asigh of relief. "How you done it I don't know. It's a surprise even tome."

  "He is very clever," said Selina, with a kind smile

  Mr. Drill turned pale, and then, somewhat emboldened by praise from sucha quarter, dropped into a chair by her side and began to talk in lowtones. The grateful Mr. Gunnill, more relieved than he cared to confess,thoughtfully closed his eyes.

  "I didn't think all along that you'd let Herbert outdo you," said Selina.

  "I want to outdo him," said Mr. Drill, in a voice of much meaning.

  Miss Gunnill cast down her eyes and Mr. Drill had just plucked upsufficient courage to take her hand when footsteps stopped at the house,the handle of the door was turned, and, for the second time that evening,the inflamed visage of Mr. Jenkins confronted the company.

  "Don't tell me it's a failure," said Mr. Gunnill, starting from hischair. "You must have been handling it roughly. It was as good as newwhen you took it away."

  Mr. Jenkins waved him away and fixed his eyes upon Drill.

  "You think you're mighty clever, I dare say," he said, grimly; "but I canput two and two together. I've just heard of it."

  "Heard of two and two?" said Drill, looking puzzled.

  "I don't want any of your nonsense," said Mr. Jenkins. "I'm not on dutynow, but I warn you not to say anything that may be used against you."

  "I never do," said Mr. Drill, piously.

  "Somebody threw a handful o' flour in poor Cooper's face a couple ofhours ago," said Mr. Jenkins, watching him closely, "and while he wasgetting it out of his eyes they upset him and made off with his helmetand truncheon. I just met Brown and he says Cooper's been going on likea madman."

  "By Jove! it's a good job I mended your helmet for you," said Mr. Drill,"or else they might have suspected you."

  Mr. Jenkins stared at him. "I know who did do it," he said,significantly.

  "Herbert Sims?" guessed Mr. Drill, in a stage whisper.

  "You'll be one o' the first to know," said Mr. Jenkins, darkly; "he'll bearrested to-morrow. Fancy the impudence of it! It's shocking."

  Mr. Drill whistled. "Nell, don't let that little affair o' yours withSims be known," he said, quietly. "Have that kept quiet--if you can."

  Mr. Jenkins started as though he had been stung. In the joy of a case hehad overlooked one or two things. He turned and regarded the young manwistfully.

  "Don't call on me as a witness, that's all," continued Mr. Drill. "Inever was a mischief-maker, and I shouldn't like to have to tell how youlent your helmet to Sims so that he could pretend he had knocked Cooperdown and taken it from him."

  "Don't call on me as a witness, that's all," continued Mr.Drill.]

  "Wouldn't look at all well," said Mr. Gunnill, nodding his head sagely.

  Mr. Jenkins breathed hard and looked from one to the other. It was plainthat it was no good reminding them that he had not had a case for fiveyears.

  "When I say that I know who did it," he said, slowly, "I mean that I havemy suspicions."

  "Don't call on me as a witness, that's all,' continued Mr. Drill."

  "Ah," said Mr. Drill, "that's a very different thing."

  "Nothing like the same," said Mr. Gunnill, pouring the constable a glassof ale.

  Mr. Jenkins drank it and smacked his lips feebly.

  "Sims needn't know anything about that helmet being repaired," he said atlast.

  "Certainly not," said everybody.

  Mr. Jenkins sighed and turned to Drill.

  "It's no good spoiling the ship for a ha'porth o' tar," he said, with afaint suspicion of a wink. "No," said Drill, looking puzzled.

  "Anything that's worth doing at all is worth doing well," continued theconstable, "and while I'm drinking another glass with Mr. Gunnill here,suppose you go into the kitchen with that useful bag o' yours and finishrepairing my truncheon?"