CHAPTER IX

A LITTLE ADVENTURE

William and Ginger walked slowly down the village street. They were

discussing with much animation some burglaries that had lately taken

place in the village.

“Robert says,” said William, “that _he_ b’lieves that it’s not ordin’ry

robbers at all an’ that _he_ b’lieves that it’s people livin’ in the

place, people what _seem_ all right an’ go about doin’ shoppin’ an’

goin’ to church an’ going out to tea same as orn’ery people. He’s been

readin’ a book where that happened--someone what was churchwarden in

the daytime an’ went out stealin’ at night. Robert says that he’s goin’

to try to find out who it is.”

“I bet I know why he wants to find out who it is,” said Ginger with a

note of bitterness in his voice.

“Why?” challenged William.

“’Cause of that Miss Bellairs,” said Ginger.

Miss Bellairs was Robert’s latest inamorata. Robert’s love affairs

were of such a kaleidoscopic nature that William had long ago ceased

to trouble to keep up with them but not even William had been able

quite to ignore the affair with Miss Bellairs. Miss Bellairs was an

(in William’s eye) elderly woman of about twenty who had come to stay

in the village with her aunt. Her aunt had a son who was the object of

Robert’s deadly jealousy. So much William knew, and he knew it only

because it was impossible to live in the same house as Robert and not

know it. He took no interest in it. He did not know or care where the

girl’s aunt lived or what she was called or anything else about the

matter whatsoever. He was annoyed at Ginger’s remark, suspecting a

hidden insult in it.

“What d’you know about _that_?” he said aggressively.

“I know ’cause Hector’s potty on her too,” said Ginger dejectedly.

Hector was Ginger’s elder brother. He was (in the Outlaw’s eyes) as

lacking in sanity and consideration for his youngers as are all elder

brothers.

William’s aggressiveness vanished. He felt drawn to Ginger by a common

bond of misfortune and shame.

“Can’t make out what makes ’em act like that about her,” he said

with fierce exasperation in his voice. “I’ve seen her an’ she looks

perfectly orn’ery to me.”

“Me, too,” agreed Ginger with heartfelt emphasis, and added scornfully.

“_Girls!_ I’m jolly well not goin’ to _speak_ to a girl ’cept what you

have to all my life.”

“Same here,” agreed William.

This agreement seemed to form a yet closer bond between them and, each

feeling cheered and invigorated by the knowledge that the world held

at least one person of intelligence besides himself, they returned to

the subject of the burglaries. They discussed burglaries in general and

the present village burglaries in particular. They discussed burglary

as a career and finally decided that it was less exciting than that

of piracy though more exciting than that of engine driver--careers to

which they had always inclined.

They had been walking aimlessly along the road without noticing

particularly where they were going, and they discovered suddenly that

they were passing Ginger’s aunt’s house.

“Let’s see if we can see her parrot,” said Ginger. “It’ll probably be

in the front room.”

They crept cautiously up to the window. Ginger’s aunt was what is known

as “house proud” and Ginger--leaver of muddy boot marks and sticky

finger marks, breaker of nearly everything he touched--knew that he

was not a welcome visitor to her house. He was not at all sensitive

to shades of manner, but she had left him in no doubt at all on that

subject.

Therefore he crept furtively up to her front window in order to enjoy

the intriguing spectacle of his aunt’s parrot hopping up and down upon

its perch and uttering malicious chuckles.

“I bet she’s out,” said Ginger. “She always goes out shopping in the

mornings. Let’s open the window an’ listen to it.”

They opened the window cautiously and put their heads inside. The

parrot began to jump up and down on his perch still more excitedly when

he saw them.

“Hello, Polly!” said William encouragingly.

“Oh, shut up,” said the parrot.

This delighted his visitors.

“Go on, Polly,” encouraged Ginger. “Go on! Say something else.”

“Get out, you old fool,” said the parrot with a snigger.

“Jolly good, isn’t it?” said Ginger proudly. “And it’s quite tame. It

comes out an’ sits on your finger. My aunt lets me take it out and hold

it. At least,” he corrected himself, “she used to before that last vase

got broke. How could I know,” he added bitterly, “that a vase would

fall off the hall table on to the floor an’ get broke simply with me

comin’ downstairs?”

William made a vague sound suggestive of sympathy but he was not really

interested in the disastrous reverberations of Ginger’s footfall. He

was interested in the parrot.

“I bet it doesn’t jus’ sit quietly on _your_ finger,” he said. “It

knows _her_ finger, of course, but I bet if you took it out it wouldn’t

sit quiet on yours.”

“It would,” affirmed Ginger aggressively.

“Easy to say that,” said William, “when you know that you can’t try.”

“I _can_ try,” said Ginger. “She’s out shoppin’, anyway. She always is

in the morning. I bet you _anythin’_ it’ll sit quiet on my finger. It

won’t take a _second_. Let’s jus’ get in an’ see.”

He raised the window and with a cautious glance around the room

entered. William followed. The parrot gave its most vulgar snigger and

said: “Oh, shut up.” It was certainly an attractive bird....

With another hasty glance round Ginger opened the catch of the cage and

put out his finger ready for the bird to alight upon.

The bird said: “Get out, you old fool,” and hopped obligingly on to

Ginger’s finger.

“_There!_” said Ginger proudly standing with his arm outstretched.

“There! What did I _tell_ you?”

For a second he stood like that with an indescribable swagger in his

pose, holding out the bird at arm’s length. For a second only. At the

end of a second the bird suddenly spread its wings and without any

warning at all flew straight out of the window. The swagger dropped

incontinently from Ginger’s pose. He gazed at the open window, his

freckled face pale, his mouth open.

“_Crumbs!_” he gasped.

“_Crumbs!_” echoed William.

Then both of them dived simultaneously through the window into the

garden.

There they gazed around them. The parrot was sitting quite calmly on a

low bush in the next-door neighbour’s garden.

The two Outlaws crept up to the fence and climbing over it, approached

the parrot. The parrot awaited their approach, chuckling his most

malicious chuckle. He let them come up quite close to him. He waited

till Ginger had put out a hand to grab him, and then with a combination

of his malicious chuckle and his vulgar snigger he flew off from under

Ginger’s very hand through the open window into the next-door house.

“_Crumbs!_” said Ginger again in a tone of helpless horror.

William crept cautiously up to the window.

“I can see him,” he whispered, “he’s sittin’ on the piano.”

“Is there anyone in the room?” whispered Ginger from behind the laurel

bush where he had taken cover.

“No. No one. Just a lot of chairs. I’ll go in an’ fetch him. I’ll jus’

get in at this window an’ fetch him. I’ll----”

He was cautiously pushing up the window.

“I’ll come too,” volunteered Ginger somewhat dispiritedly. Mental

visions of his aunt when she discovered that her pet was missing were

beginning to haunt him.

“No. Best let only one go alone,” said William, “then if anything

happens to me you’ll be safe to go on lookin’ for it.”

William’s spirits were rising at the prospects of an adventure.

He swung himself over the sill and found himself in a small

drawing-room. It was full of chairs arranged in rows as if for a

meeting and there was a table at one end.

“Oh, shut up,” said the parrot excitedly from the piano.

William began to stalk his prey in his best Red Indian fashion. It

waited till his hand was nearly on him then, chuckling, flew to the

mantelpiece.

“Polly, Polly,” whispered William in fierce, hoarse coaxing as he

approached the mantelpiece.

“Get out, you old fool,” said the parrot who seemed to be thoroughly

enjoying himself. He let William think that he was really going to get

him this time, then with another chuckle spread his wings and flew

off again. This time he circled round and round the room and finally

disappeared behind a cabinet that stood across a corner of the room,

having a fair-sized recess between it and the wall.

William was just pursuing it to this retreat when the door opened and a

tall, stern-looking woman wearing pince-nez and a high collar entered

the room. She looked at William in surprise and disapproval.

“You mustn’t come into a house like this without knocking at the door,”

she said. “If you’ve come to the meeting you should have knocked at the

door properly and, anyway, the meeting doesn’t begin till half-past.

Have you come to the meeting?”

William hesitated. If he told her that he had come to catch Ginger’s

aunt’s escaped parrot then there was no doubt at all that Ginger’s

aunt would hear of the escapade from her neighbour and it was of vital

importance to Ginger’s peace of mind and body that the parrot should be

caught and returned to its cage without Ginger’s aunt having known of

its escape. It seemed better therefore on the whole to have come to the

meeting.

“Yes,” he said, assuming his blankest expression.

Then another lady very like the first one came in and stared at William.

“Who is this boy and what’s he doing here?” she said to the first lady.

“He says he’s come to the meeting,” said the first lady helplessly.

“But, my _dear_!” said the second lady, “we don’t want people like

_that_ at the meeting. A rough-looking boy like _that_!”

The first lady grew yet more helpless.

“But we’ve advertised it as a public meeting,” she said. “We can’t turn

people away, I mean--_well_, we _can’t_. I don’t think it would be

legal,” she ended vaguely.

“But what does he _want_ to come to the meeting for?” said the second

lady. “And a quarter of an hour too early, too.”

“I suppose he’s interested in Total Abstinence,” said the first lady

doubtfully. “I suppose there’s no reason why he shouldn’t be.” She

turned to William. “Are you interested in Total Abstinence?”

“Yes,” said William without a second’s hesitation and looking blanker

than ever.

Both ladies stared at him and looked very much perplexed.

Then a man with crossed eyes behind huge horn-rimmed spectacles and

carrying a sheaf of papers entered and said briskly:

“Is everything ready?”

The first lady pointed to William.

“This boy says he’s interested in Total Abstinence and wants to come to

the meeting,” she said.

William turned a sphinx-like face to the man.

The man subjected William to a lengthy inspection. William met it

unblinkingly. The lengthy inspection did not seem to reassure the young

man at all. He said reluctantly:

“Well, I suppose we can’t turn him out if he wants to come. I mean

we’ve _advertised_ it as a public meeting----”

“Just what I said,” said the first lady.

“But any monkey tricks from you, my boy----” said the man threateningly.

“_Me!_” said William, his sphinx-like look changing to one of righteous

indignation. “_Me!_” He seemed hardly able to believe his ears.

“All right,” said the man irritably. “Go and sit down somewhere at the

back. People will be coming in in a minute.”

William chose a seat just in front of the cabinet behind which the

parrot had taken refuge. The parrot was preserving a strange silence.

William made violent efforts to see it from his chair till the second

lady said:

“Do sit still there, boy! You make me feel quite giddy fidgeting about

like that.”

So William sat (comparatively) still, wondering how he could entice

the parrot from behind the cabinet and make his departure with it

unobserved. The parrot’s silence puzzled him. Was it merely resting

after the excitement of its flight or was it planning some outrageous

piece of devilry? People were beginning to arrive now. They all threw

glances at William, curious and in most cases disapproving. William’s

whole energy was now taken up in meeting their glances with his

blankest stare.

Evidently one lady (who presumably knew him) was objecting to his

presence because he heard the first lady saying helplessly:

“Well, I don’t see how we _can_ turn him out. He said that he wanted to

come to the meeting because he was interested in Total Abstinence ...

and he isn’t _doing_ anything we can turn him out for.”

Fortunately the chair William occupied stood by itself next to the

cabinet. Just in front of him was the last row of chairs. The chairs

were all full now and the meeting was beginning. He was craning his

neck round to see what had happened to the parrot. There was still no

sound from behind the cabinet.... He began to think that it must have

gone to sleep....

The cross-eyed man was speaking. “It gives me great pleasure to

introduce to you our speaker, Miss Rubina Thomasina Fawshaw. Her name

is well known, of course, to all of us----”

[Illustration: “GET OUT, YOU OLD FOOL!” SAID A VOICE. WILLIAM WAS

STARING IN FRONT OF HIM WITH A SET, FIXED STARE.]

It was at this point that the parrot behind the cabinet suddenly

ejaculated:

“Oh, shut up!”

The meeting wheeled round to gaze at William open-mouthed with

horror and indignation. William with a great effort maintained his

sphinx-like expression and stared fixedly in front of him, trying to

look as if he were in a brown study and had not heard the interruption.

The man was fortunately rather deaf. After looking about him vaguely

for some minutes he continued. With a last stern and threatening glance

at William the audience turned round again to listen.

[Illustration: “ONE MORE INTERRUPTION FROM YOU, MY BOY,” SAID THE MAN

WITH THE SPECTACLES, “AND OUT YOU GO!”]

“She is a splendid and well-known worker in this noble cause. She has

for the last six weeks been travelling in America, and she has there

studied the question of Prohibition in all its aspects----”

“Get out, you old fool!”

They all swung round again. It couldn’t have come from anyone but

William. William was making a supreme and quite unconvincing attempt to

look innocent. He was staring in front of him with a set, fixed stare

and a purple face. The man with the squint had heard now. Fixing one

furious eye on William and the other out of the window he said:

“One more such interruption from you, my boy, and out you go.”

The unhappy William made a vague sound in his throat suggestive of

innocence and surprise and apology and continued to stare fixedly in

front of him. After another short silence the cross-eyed man continued

his speech. The audience, pausing only to throw final vitriolic glances

at William, turned round again to listen.

“I personally,” went on the cross-eyed man, “have known Miss Fawshaw

for a good many years----”

There was no mistaking it. It was a vulgar snigger coming from the back

of the room where William sat.

Without a word the cross-eyed man arose and came down the room, one

baleful eye fixed on William. He seized his victim by the neck and

propelled him before him out of the room down the hall to the front

door, where he ignominiously ejected him.

Ginger was anxiously awaiting his return.

“Hello,” he greeted him, “you’ve not got it after all! Whatever’s been

happenin’ in there?”

“All sorts of things,” groaned William, rubbing his neck where the

cross-eyed man had held it. “Crumbs! It was awful. They’re having a

meetin’ an’ it kept sayin’ things an’ they thought it was me. It was

awful! An’ he’s nearly broke my neck.”

“Where is it?” asked Ginger anxiously. He meant the parrot, not

William’s neck. He wasn’t interested in William’s neck.

“It went behind a sort of cupboard place,” said William, still tenderly

caressing his neck, “an’ it was quite quiet till they started havin’ a

meetin’ an’ then it started sayin’ its things an’ they thought it was

me. Crumbs! It was _awful_!... It’s right behind the cupboard thing

now. I kept tryin’ to see it but I couldn’t.”

“Let’s see if we can see it from the window,” suggested Ginger.

They crept very, very cautiously up to the window. They could see the

parrot quite plainly. It was on the floor behind the cupboard gazing

about it with a sort of cynical enjoyment. It evidently had not spoken

since it had secured William’s ignominious ejection. It suddenly saw

the Outlaws watching it through the window and began to walk towards

them across the floor. So intent was the audience upon Miss Rubina

Thomasina Fawshaw’s discourse (she was giving a lucid account of the

effect of alcohol upon the liver) that no one noticed the parrot

walking sedately across the floor from the cabinet to the window.

Having reached the window it stood for a few minutes gazing wickedly up

at the Outlaws’ faces. Then silently, suddenly it hopped up on to the

open window sill. William put out his hand.

“Got it!” he breathed.

But he spoke too soon. He hadn’t got it. With a chuckle it flew off

over the fence into the next garden, leaving William and Ginger gazing

after it despairingly.

“_Well!_” said William after an eloquent silence. “We seem sort of

_doomed_ with that bird!”

“Yes, an’ if we’ve not got it put back by the time my aunt comes back

we’ll be still more doomed,” said Ginger dejectedly.

“Come on then,” said William, “let’s catch it. It’s only just sitting

on a tree.”

“Oh, shut up!” called the parrot, challengingly, from a small almond

tree on which he was perching.

The two Outlaws scaled the fence and very, very cautiously approached

the truant.

“Got him _this_ time,” said William again joyfully as his outstretched

hand descended.

But again he spoke too soon. The parrot squawked “Get out, you fool,”

and slipping nimbly away from William’s grimy hand flew on to the

window sill where it hopped up and down excitedly as if executing a

war dance.

“Go on, Ginger,” said William. “Get him! You can get him there all

right!”

Ginger pounced desperately, but the parrot merely hopped through the

open window into the front room of the house.

“_There!_” said William, hoarse with horror and despair, “it’s gone

into _another_ house. Well, I’ve jolly well done enough goin’ into

houses after it an’ getting pushed out with someone’s fingers nearly

meetin’ through my neck. You can jolly well go after it, this time.”

“A’ right,” said Ginger meekly, surveying the room with some anxiety.

“Go on--it’s all right. It’s empty ’cept for it,” said William.

The parrot had perched upon an electric light that hung down from the

centre of the ceiling and was swinging briskly to and fro. Ginger

slowly pushed up the window and slung one leg over the ledge.

Then he looked back at William.

“’S goin’ to be an awful job catchin’ him alone,” he said pleadingly.

William had been regretting his decision not to join the expedition.

William hated not being in the thick of an adventure.

“All right,” he said, “I bet it will take both of us to catch him.”

And despite his recent ignominious ejection he slung his leg over

the sill after Ginger with quite pleasurable feelings of zest and

excitement.

The parrot had stopped swinging on the electric light bulb now and

was hopping to and fro upon a polished table. He suggested someone

slightly inebriated trying to perform a very complicated dance. He

probably _was_ slightly inebriated with freedom and excitement....

The two Outlaws approached him. With one beady eye fixed on them,

but still merrily performing his dance, he waited again till Ginger’s

outstretched hand was a fraction of an inch from his back, and then

with a diabolical chuckle he flew straight out of the window again.

“_Crumbs!_” said William. “Quick! Let’s go after him or we shan’t know

which way he’s gone.”

But just at that minute there came the sound of the opening of a door

and voices approached the room. Someone was coming.... There wasn’t

time to get out of the window. Already someone was holding the handle

and the voices were just outside the door. Quick as lightning William

and Ginger plunged beneath the nearest piece of furniture which

happened to be a sofa with--mercifully--a frilled loose cover that hid

them from view. There wasn’t room to move or breathe but they felt

grateful for the temporary shelter it afforded.

They were in fact so much exercised with the problem of existence in a

space that did not allow for movement or breathing that at first they

did not listen to what the voices were saying. But having partially

solved the problem of existence in the cramped space and becoming

gradually accustomed to the taste of the carpet their attention fixed

itself upon the conversation that was going on in the room. Neither

Ginger nor William could see the speakers, but the voices were those of

a girl and a man. The girl was saying:

“Then we’ll do Latham House on Wednesday?”

“I think so,” said the man’s voice.

“What time?”

“I suggest three o’clock. Will that do for you?”

“Yes. Quite well. You’re _sure_ they’re away?”

“Oh, yes.... We can get the things ready in the coach-house. All the

servants are away too.”

“Good! I hope it will be a success. Frenshams’ was a _great_ success,

wasn’t it?”

They may have said more, but the Outlaws heard no more. They were dazed

and astounded by the one stupendous fact. They had found the burglars.

They swallowed several mouthfuls of carpet dust in sheer ecstasy....

They had found the burglars. Soon the closing of the door and the

silence that followed it told them that the room was empty, and they

crept out of their hiding-place, tiptoed across the room and clambered

out of the still open window.

“Gosh!” said William as soon as they were outside. “The burglars!”

Ginger was no less thrilled than William, but the parrot still lay upon

his conscience.

“The parrot!” he murmured, looking around at the parrotless expanse of

sky and road and garden that met his gaze.

William looked about too. There was certainly no sign of the parrot.

“Oh, never mind the parrot!” he said contemptuously. “What’s a

_parrot_?”

Ginger murmured, truly enough, that a parrot is a parrot, but William

stoutly denied it and even Ginger felt that a parrot paled into

complete insignificance besides a burglar.

“She won’t know it was us,” said William (though without conviction),

“and, anyway, it’s lunch time. I’m _sick_ of tryin’ to catch parrots.

Burglars are more fun and I bet they’re a jolly sight easier to catch.”

“What d’you think we’d better do?” said Ginger. “Go round to Latham

House at three o’clock an’ catch ’em?”

But even William’s glorious optimism could not quite visualise this

capture. He frowned for a minute perplexedly. Then he said:

“Tell you what! We’ll get Robert to come an’ help. He’s mad keen on

catchin’ ’em.”

“And Hector,” said Ginger.

“All right,” agreed William. “Robert an’ Hector. We’ll tell ’em after

dinner--on condition that they let us help with the catchin’.”

“Of course,” said Ginger.

* * * * *

William found that there was no need to lead up to the question of the

burglaries. Robert at lunch could talk of nothing else. He had decided

quite definitely to capture the burglars. William knew that this

decision was inspired solely by a desire to attain a heroic standard

in the eyes of Miss Julia Bellairs. Robert wanted to catch the burglar

not for the sake of the adventure but so that Miss Julia Bellairs might

hear that he had caught the burglar. While despising the motive William

appreciated the decision.

“My theory is,” said Robert importantly, “that they’ll do our house

this afternoon. You see, they’ve probably discovered that we’re all

going to be out this afternoon. They know that the maids are going to

the fair at Balton and that I’m going out to the tennis club, and that

you and Ethel are going to the Barlows’ and William’s going to tea to

Ginger’s. They always find out exactly which house is going to be empty

during the afternoon. Now I’ve decided to pretend to go out to tennis,

but I’m going to come back by the back way and wait in the house for

them. They won’t be expecting me, you see, and I’ll overpower them

before they’ve time to resist and----”

“How will you overpower them?” said Ethel, quite unimpressed.

“Well,” said Robert still more importantly, “I know a very good way to

do that. I was reading in the paper about a man who did it. He knew

that a burglar was coming, so he arranged a pail of water over the back

door, where he knew he’d come in because it was the only door not

fastened and it fell down on him and drenched him and took away his

breath, so that the man got him tied up before he recovered his breath.”

“You mustn’t do any such thing, Robert,” said Mrs. Brown indignantly,

“_ruining_ the carpets!”

William took no part in the discussion. William believed in doing one

thing at a time and he was giving his whole attention to the Irish

stew. Moreover, he realised that Robert must be approached privately,

man to man, on the subject. Women had such queer ideas. Both his mother

and his sister would, he knew, want to mess up the whole thing by

bringing in the police.

So he followed Robert into the garden after lunch to impart his

information.

“I say, Robert,” he began carelessly. “I know all about those burglars.

They aren’t comin’ here to-day. They’re goin’ to Latham House. At three

o’clock. I heard ’em say so.”

“Rubbish!” said Robert with elder brother contempt and severity.

“_Honest_, Robert!” persisted William. “I’m not makin’ it up. Honest,

I’m not. Ask Ginger. We heard ’em talkin’ when we was out this morning.”

“Where did you hear them talking?” said Robert.

William hesitated. To answer that question accurately would be to

reveal the whole parrot episode--an episode far better left unrevealed.

Robert would have no compunction at all about informing Ginger’s aunt

that it had been Ginger and William who had let her parrot out. After a

slight hesitation William replied unblushingly:

“Up on the common. On one of the seats.”

He assuaged his conscience (that very amenable organ) firstly by the

consideration that the story in the main was true and the details were

unessential and secondly that probably all land was common land before

they built houses on it, so really he wasn’t telling a story at all.

“What were they saying?” said Robert with slightly less contempt and

severity.

“Well, one of them was a woman and she said, ‘Let’s go an’ burgle

Latham House to-morrow,’ an’ they arranged to do that, an’ they said

that they knew that it would be empty an’ they said they’d get their

jemmies and things ready in the coach-house an’ one of them said what a

lot of fine things they got out of Frenshams’.”

“Yes, they jolly well did,” commented Robert. “They got all the silver

and a lot of jewellery.”

“Yes, they said that,” said William vaguely, “at least, I _think_ they

said that. They said somethin’ like it, anyway. About all the fine

things they stole out of it.”

“What were they like to look at?” said Robert.

William realised that if he’d heard them talking on a bench he must

have seen them.

“Oh, they looked--they jus’ looked like thieves,” said William vaguely.

“He’d got a beard an’ she’d got black hair.”

So plainly did William visualise the couple he described--a Russian

communist and a vamp once seen on the pictures--that he could hardly

believe he hadn’t really seen them.

“She’d got a lot of jewellery on--things she’d stole, I suppose--an’

he’d got a muffler half-way up his face an’ a cap pulled down low over

his eyes.”

“How did you know he’d got a beard then?” said Robert.

William was taken aback just for a second, but quickly recovered

himself.

“It was one of those sorts of beards that stretch right up to the top

of the person’s face and then it went down underneath his muffler too.

It was a big sort of beard.”

“Did you say Ginger was with you?”

“Yes. We thought you an’ Hector would like to catch ’em without

troublin’ the police.”

“Oh, the police!” said Robert with a scornful laugh (Robert had been

reading a good many detective stories lately). “The police aren’t much

good at anything like this. They muddle every case they touch. But,”

rather coldly, “I don’t see why it was necessary to bring Hector into

it. I could have managed it perfectly well without Hector.”

“Well, nacherally,” retorted William. “Ginger wanted to have Hector in

it same as I wanted to have you in it. If we thought we could have done

it ourselves we wouldn’t have had either of you in it, but we thought

that probably bein’ bigger than what we are they’d overpower us before

we’d time to catch ’em properly. But, anyway, Ginger heard it same as I

did, an’ he’s as much right to have Hector in it as I have to have you.”

“All right,” said Robert stiffly, “I suppose it cannot be helped now,

in any case. I suppose he’ll have told him.”

A month ago Robert would have delighted in having Hector to catch the

thieves with him. A month ago Hector had been his bosom friend. But

since a month ago they had both met Miss Julia Bellairs, and now Hector

was no longer his bosom friend but his rival. They gave each other now

only the barest sign of recognition when meeting in the street, and

when they were both in the presence of the beloved they affected to be

unaware of each other’s existence.... The one drawback in Robert’s eyes

to the present situation was that the glory of catching the thieves

red-handed would have to be shared with Hector. Still, probably the

beloved would understand that Hector had been merely Watson to his

Sherlock Holmes. If she did not so understand Robert decided it should

not be for lack of hints.... “A useful fellow, Hector,” he would say,

“of course, I couldn’t have brought it off without him. I planned the

whole thing, of course, but I couldn’t have pulled it off without

someone to help me.”

“How’re you goin’ to catch ’em?” said William with interest.

Robert tore himself with an effort from a pleasant day dream in which

Miss Julia Bellairs was saying, “But how _splendid_! How _wonderful_!

How _brave_!... Weren’t you afraid of being killed?”

And he was replying with a modest laugh: “Well, you know, I never

thought of it. I never do when there’s any danger.”

“Er--you said three o’clock, didn’t you?” he said coldly to William.

He wished he’d discovered the thing himself. It spoilt it somehow to

have William and Ginger and Hector in it....

“Yes,” said William, “an’ they were goin’ to get their tools ready in

the coach-house.”

“Well,” said Robert assuming a stern and superior air, as befitted a

master detective, addressing one of his underlings, “I’ll see Hector

and tell him what to do.”

* * * * *

They were all in the coach-house of Latham House. It was five minutes

to three. Robert had fixed up a very complicated erection--consisting

of a lot of ropes and a pail of water--over the door of the coach-house

in such a way that anyone opening the door would receive the

contents of the pail in full force upon their head. At least Robert

hoped he would. His band of underlings had proved disappointingly

unaccommodating about that. He had urged them--or one of them--to go

out by the window and enter by the door in order to see whether the

contrivance worked and all of them had refused. Robert rather hoped

that Hector would offer. His pride as he gazed up at the elaborate

erection was clouded only by the thought that no official of Scotland

Yard would see it. He felt that if any official in Scotland Yard were

to see it, they would at once offer him a high salaried post on the

staff. Robert had often thought that he would make a good detective....

Hector was bitterly resenting the airs that Robert was putting on over

this. He was afraid that Miss Julia Bellairs would think that Robert’s

share in the capture was more important than it really was. He was

indulging in a day dream in which the beloved was saying to him: “How

_wonderful_! How _brave_! But weren’t you _afraid_?”

And he was saying nonchalantly:

“Oh, no. Not a bit. I never am, you know. I’d really as soon have done

it without Robert, but the poor boy was very anxious to help and I

didn’t like to refuse him.”

“It’s nearly three,” said William hopefully.

William was feeling that if he could just live to see that pail of

water overturning on to somebody he didn’t mind how soon he died after

it.

“Quick,” said Robert. “We’d better hide! They mustn’t see us through

the window.”

“Hide quickly,” said Hector in order to prove to himself that he was

giving orders, not taking them from Robert.

They retired to the shadowy corner of the room--only just in time.

Almost at once two figures were seen to pass the window walking

furtively in single file. The windows were smeared and dusty, but

it was clear that the figures were those of a man and a woman. They

stopped at the door. Very cautiously they opened it and entered.

[Illustration: ROBERT, WITH A FLOURISH, REMOVED THE BUCKET. “JULIA!” HE

GASPED.]

Robert’s contrivance acted. It acted even more effectively than he had

intended it to act. Not only did the bucket discharge its contents

upon the couple as they entered. It discharged itself as well,

completely enveloping both of them. The four amateur Sherlock Holmes’

came out of their hiding-places to behold the amazing spectacle of

two drenched forms--one a man and the other a woman--sitting back to

back, the upper portion of both their forms completely enveloped by a

tin bucket which had very neatly caught them both. Muffled screams and

shouts came from beneath the bucket. With admirable presence of mind

Robert darted forward and firmly held down the extinguisher.

“Get the rope quick, Hector,” he said.

Even as he said it he was mentally composing an account of the affair

for Miss Julia Bellairs.

“At once I held down the bucket quite firmly despite their struggling

and called to Hector to get the rope for me to tie them up.”

How he wished she were here to see him....

The two were firmly bound together and then Robert with a flourish

removed the extinguisher.

It revealed the bedraggled upper portions of Miss Julia Bellairs and

her cousin.

There followed a scene that baffles description.

William and Ginger crept unostentatiously away before it had even

reached its climax, but before they departed they had gathered that

Miss Julia Bellairs and her cousin were not burglars, but that they

were engaged in the production of a little souvenir booklet of the

village to be presented to every guest at a garden party they were

giving the next month. The booklet was to contain a photograph of the

house of every guest but this was to be a surprise--hence the mystery

surrounding the taking of the photographs.

As William said: “With a cracked idea like that they couldn’t _expect_

anythin’ but trouble.”

* * * * *

It was that evening.

William and Ginger walked slowly and sadly down the road.

“Then there’s that parrot,” said Ginger gloomily.

“Yes. I’d been quite forgetting the parrot,” said William.

“It started it all,” said Ginger yet more gloomily.

“I s’pose so,” said William, “but she doesn’t know you let it out.

She’s not been to see your father about it yet, has she?”

“No, but she might any time--an’ on the top of the _other_----”

“Let’s go’n’ see what she’s doin’ about it,” said William, who never

could resist the temptation to revisit the scene of a crime.

They approached Ginger’s aunt’s house and once more crept cautiously up

to the drawing-room window.

The first sight that met their eyes was the reassuring one of Ginger’s

aunt’s parrot hanging as usual in the cage and swinging to and fro on

his perch.

Further investigation revealed the figure of Ginger’s aunt and a friend

sitting over a tea table.

Their conversation reached the watchers through the open window.

“Oh, yes, he’s a _very_ clever bird,” Ginger’s aunt was saying proudly.

“Why, do you know what he did this morning? Someone must have left the

window open and he opened his cage door _himself_ and got out. Right

out of the window. I was _distracted_ when I came home and found him

gone. And then just when I was in the middle of ringing up the police

about it he came back. Simply came in again through the window and went

back into his cage.”

The two Outlaws crept back to the road.

“Well, _that’s_ all right!” said William.

“Yes,” admitted Ginger, “that’s cert’nly _one_ thing all right....

What’re you goin’ to do now?”

“I’m not quite sure,” said William. “Only,” very firmly, “I’m not goin’

home jus’ yet. Robert’s goin’ out at six o’clock an’ I’m not goin’ home

till after that.”

“I’m not either,” said Ginger. “Hector’s goin’ out about then an’ I’m

not goin’ home till after that ... you’d think they’d be grateful to

us, wouldn’t you? It made them friends again.”

“Yes, but they aren’t grateful to us,” said William, “and, of course,

it made Robert madder still to find that the burglars had been to our

house while he’d been out tryin’ to catch ’em at Latham House.”

“Yes, and the way they make it all out _our_ fault----” said Ginger

bitterly.

“They always do that,” said William.

“She said she’d never speak to ’em again,” said Ginger meditatively,

“but she said some jolly fine things to ’em first. Before she said

that.”

“So did he,” said William.

With reminiscent appreciative smiles on their countenances they walked

on slowly down the road.

THE END

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:

Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.

Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.

Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.

Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.

New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the

public domain.

William—the good · 第 9 / 9 章