Standing with his back to the fireplace, his legs slightly apart, his
hands in his pockets, and his eyes fixed on the ceiling, Mr Sharp,
Police Superintendent of the Grand National Trunk Railway, communed with
himself and dived into the future.
Mr Sharp's powers of diving were almost miraculous. He had an
unusually keen eye for the past and the present, but in regard to the
future his powers were all but prophetic. He possessed a rare capacity
for following up clues; investigating cases; detecting falsehoods, not
only of the lip, but of the eye and complexion; and, in a word, was able
to extract golden information out of the most unpromising circumstances.
He was also all but ubiquitous. Now tracking a suspicion to its source
on his own line in one of the Midland counties; anon comparing notes
with a brother superintendent at the terminus of the Great Western, or
Great Northern, or South-Eastern in London. Sometimes called away to
give evidence in a county court; at other times taking a look in at his
own home to kiss his wife or dandle his child before dashing off per
express to follow up a clue to John O'Groats or the Land's End. Here,
and there, and everywhere--calm, self-possessed, and self-contained,
making notes in trains, writing reports in his office, making
discoveries and convictions, and sometimes making prisoners with his own
hands by night and day, with no fixed hours for work, or rest, or meals,
and no certainty in anything concerning him, save in the uncertainty of
his movements, Mr Sharp with his myrmidons was the terror of evil
doers, and, we may truly add, the safeguard of the public.
Little did that ungrateful public know all it owed to the untiring
watchfulness and activity of Mr Sharp and his men. If he and his
compeers were to be dismissed from our lines for a single week, the
descent of a host of thieves and scoundrels to commit wide-spread
plunder would teach the public somewhat severely how much they owe to
the efficient management of this department of railway business, and how
well, constantly and vigilantly--though unobtrusively--their interests
are cared for.
But to return. Mr Sharp, as we have said stood communing with himself
and diving into the future. Apparently his thoughts afforded him some
amusement, for his eyes twinkled slightly, and there was a faintly
humorous twist about the corners of his mouth.
David Blunt sat at a desk near him, writing diligently. Against the
wall over his head hung a row of truncheons. Besides the desk, a bench,
two or three wooden chairs, and a chest, there was little furniture in
the room.
Blunt's busy pen at length ceased to move, and Sharp looked at him.
"Well, Blunt," he said, "I see nothing for it but to make a railway
porter of you."
"By all means, sir," said Blunt, with a smile, laying down his pen.
"Gorton station," continued Sharp, "has become a very nest of thieves.
It is not creditable that such a state of things should exist for a week
on our line. They have managed things very cleverly as yet. Five or
six bales of cloth have disappeared in the course of as many days,
besides several loaves of sugar and half-a-dozen cheeses. I am pretty
sure who the culprits are, but can't manage to bring it home to them,
so, as I have said, we must convert you into a porter. You have only
been once engaged on this part of the line--that was at the accident
when you were so hard on poor Mr Gurwood, so that none of the Gorton
people will know you. I have arranged matters with our passenger
superintendent. It seems that Macdonell, the station-master at Gorton,
has been complaining that he is short-handed and wants another porter.
That just suits us, so we have resolved to give you that responsible
situation. You will get a porter's uniform from--"
At this point Mr Sharp was interrupted by the door opening violently,
and a detective in plain clothes entering with a stout young man in his
grasp.
"Who have we here?" asked Mr Sharp.
"Man travelling without a ticket sir," replied the detective, whose calm
demeanour was in marked contrast to the excitement of his prisoner.
"Ha! come here; what have you to say for yourself?" demanded the
superintendent of the man.
Hereupon the man began a violent exculpation of himself, which entailed
nearly half-an-hour of vigorous cross-questioning, and resulted in his
giving a half-satisfactory account of himself, some trustworthy
references to people in town, and being set free.
This case having been disposed of, Mr Sharp resumed his conversation
with Blunt.
"Having been changed, then, into a railway porter, Blunt, you will
proceed to Gorton to discharge your duties there, and while doing so you
will make uncommonly good use of your eyes, ears, and opportunities."
Mr Sharp smiled and Blunt chuckled, and at the same time Joseph Tipps
entered the room.
"Good-evening, Mr Sharp," he said. "Well, anything more about these
Gorton robberies?"
"Nothing more yet, Mr Tipps, but we expect something more soon, for a
new porter is about to be sent to the station."
Tipps, who was a very simple matter-of-fact man in some ways, looked
puzzled.
"Why, how will the sending of a new porter to the station throw light on
the matter?"
"You shall know in the course of time, Mr Tipps," replied the
superintendent. "We have wonderful ways of finding out things here."
"Indeed you have," said Tipps; "and, by the way, that reminds me that
they have some wonderful ways of finding out things on the Continent as
well as here. I have just heard of a clever thing done by a German
professor. It seems that on one of the lines--I forget which--a large
box full of silver-plate was despatched. It had a long way to go, and
before reaching its destination the plate was stolen, and the box filled
up with sand. On this being discovered, of course every sort of
investigation was set on foot, but without success. At last the thing
came to the ears of a professor of chemistry--or the police went to him,
I don't know which--and it occurred to him that he might get a clue to
the thieves by means of the sand in the box. You see the great
difficulty the police had, was to ascertain at which of the innumerable
stations on the long line, it was likely that the theft had taken place.
The professor ordered samples of the sand at all the stations on the
line to be sent to him. These he analysed and examined with the
microscope, and found that one of the samples was precisely similar in
all respects to the sand in the box. The attention of the police was at
once concentrated on the station from which that sand had been gathered,
and in a short time the guilty parties were discovered and the theft
brought home to them. Now, wasn't that clever?"
"Very good, very good, indeed," said Mr Sharp, approvingly, "and rather
peculiar. I had a somewhat peculiar case myself last week. You know
some time ago there was a quantity of cloth stolen on this line, for
which, by the way, we had to pay full compensation. Well, I could not
get any clue to the thieves, but at last I thought of a plan. I got
some patterns of the cloth from the party that lost it, and sent one of
these to every station on the line where it was likely to have been
stolen. Just the other day I got a telegram from Croon station stating
that a man had been seen going about in a new suit exactly the same as
the pattern. Off I went immediately, pounced on the man, taxed him with
the theft, and found the remainder of the cloth in his house."
"Capital," exclaimed Tipps, "that was smartly managed. And, by the way,
wasn't there something about a case of stealing muffs and boas lately?"
"Yes, and we got hold of that thief too, the day before yesterday,"
replied Mr Sharp. "I felt sure, from the way in which the theft was
committed, that it must be one of our own men, and so it turned out. He
had cut open a bale and taken out several muffs and boas of first-rate
sable. One set of 'em he gave to his sweetheart, who was seen wearing
them in church on Sunday. I just went to her and said I was going to
put a question to her, and warned her to speak the truth, as it would be
worse for all parties concerned if she attempted to deceive me. I then
asked her if she had got the muff and boa from Jim Croydon, the porter.
She blushed scarlet, and admitted it at once, but said, poor thing, that
she had no idea they had been stolen, and I believe her. This case
occurred just after I had watched the milk-truck the other night for
three hours, and found that the thief who had been helping himself to it
every morning for some weeks past was the watchman at the station."
"I fear there are a great many bad fellows amongst us," said Tipps,
shaking his head.
"You are quite mistaken," replied the superintendent. "There _were_ a
good many bad fellows, but I flatter myself that there are very few
_now_ in proportion to the number of men on the line. We are constantly
winnowing them out, purifying the ore, as it were, so that we are
gradually getting rid of all the dross, and leaving nothing but sterling
metal on the line. Why, Mr Tipps, you surely don't expect that
railways are to be exempted from black sheep any more than other large
companies. Just look at the army and navy, and see what a lot of
rascals have to be punished and drummed out of the service every now and
then. Same everywhere. Why, when I consider that we employ over twenty
thousand men and boys, and that these men and boys are tempted, more
almost than any other class of people, by goods lying about constantly
in large quantities in the open air, and in all sorts of lonely and
out-of-the-way places, my surprise is that our bad men are so few. No
doubt we shall always have one or two prowling about, and may
occasionally alight on a nest of 'em, but we shall manage to keep 'em
down--to winnow them out faster, perhaps, than they come in. I am just
going about some little pieces of business of that sort now," added Mr
Sharp; putting on his hat. "Did you wish to speak with me about
anything in particular, Mr Tipps?"
"Yes; I wished to ask you if that fat woman, Mrs ---, what's her name?"
"You mean Mrs Podge, I suppose?" suggested Sharp; "she who kicked her
heels so vigorously at Langrye after the accident."
"Ah! Mrs Podge--yes. Does she persist in her ridiculous claim for
damages?"
"She does, having been urged to do so by some meddling friend; for I'm
quite sure that she would never have thought of doing so herself, seeing
that she received no damage at all beyond a fright. I'm going to pay
her a visit to-day in reference to that very thing."
"That's all right; then I won't detain you longer. Good-bye, Mr
Sharp," said Tipps, putting on his hat and quitting the office.
Not long afterwards, Mr Sharp knocked at the door of a small house in
one of the suburbs of Clatterby, and was ushered into the presence of
Mrs Podge. That amiable lady was seated by the fire knitting a
stocking.
"Good afternoon, Mrs Podge," said Mr Sharp, bowing and speaking in his
blandest tones. "I hope I see you quite well?"
Mrs Podge, charmed with the stranger's urbanity, wished him good
afternoon, admitted that she was quite well, and begged him to be
seated.
"Thank you, Mrs Podge," said Mr Sharp, complying. "I have taken the
liberty of calling in regard to a small matter of business--but pardon
me," he added, rising and shutting the door, "I inadvertently left the
door open, which is quite inexcusable in me, considering your delicate
state of health. I trust that--"
"My delicate state of health!" exclaimed Mrs Podge, who was as fat as a
prize pig, and rather piqued herself on her good looks and vigour of
body.
"Yes," continued Mr Sharp, in a commiserating tone; "I have understood,
that since the accident on the railway your--"
"Oh, as to that," laughed Mrs Podge, "I'm not much the worse of--but,
sir," she said, becoming suddenly grave, "you said you had called on
business?"
"I did. My business is to ask," said Mr Sharp, with a very earnest
glance of his penetrating eyes, "on what ground you claim compensation
from the Grand National Trunk Railway?"
Instantly Mrs Podge's colour changed. She became languid, and sighed.
"Oh, sir--damages--yes--my nerves! I did not indeed suffer much damage
in the way of cuts or bruises, though there _was_ a good piece of skin
torn off my elbow, which I could show you if it were proper to--but my
nerves received a _terrible_ shock. They have not yet recovered.
Indeed, your abrupt way of putting it has quite--thrown a--"
As Mrs Podge exhibited some symptoms of a hysterical nature at this
point Mr Sharp assumed a very severe expression of countenance, and
said--
"Now, Mrs Podge, do you really think it fair or just, to claim damages
from a company, from whom you have absolutely received _no_ damage?"
"But sir," said Mrs Podge, recovering, "my nerves _did_ receive
damage."
"I do not doubt it Mrs Podge, but we cannot compensate you for that.
If you had been laid up, money could have repaid you for lost time, or,
if your goods had been damaged, it might have compensated for that but
money cannot restore shocked nerves. Did you require medical
attendance?"
"N-no!" said Mrs Podge, reddening. "A friend did indeed insist on my
seeing a doctor, to whom, at his suggestion, I gave a fee of five
shillings, but to say truth I did not require him."
"Ha! was it the same friend who advised you to claim compensation?"
"Ye-es!" replied Mrs Podge, a little confused.
"Well, Mrs Podge, from your own admission I rather think that there
seems something like a fraudulent attempt to obtain money here. I do
not for a moment hint that you are guilty of a fraudulent _intention_,
but you must know, ma'am, that the law takes no notice of intentions--
only of facts."
"But _have_ I not a right to expect compensation for the shock to my
nervous system?" pleaded Mrs Podge, still unwilling to give in.
"Certainly not, ma'am, if the shock did not interfere with your ordinary
course of life or cause you pecuniary loss. And does it not seem hard
on railways, if you can view the subject candidly, to be so severely
punished for accidents which are in many eases absolutely unavoidable?
Perfection is not to be attained in a moment. We are rapidly decreasing
our risks and increasing our safeguards. We do our best for the safety
and accommodation of the public, and as directors and officials travel
by our trains as frequently as do the public, concern for our own lives
insures that we work the line in good faith. Why, ma'am, I was myself
near the train at the time of the accident at Langrye, and _my_ nerves
were considerably shaken. Moreover, there was a director with his
daughter in the train, both of whom were severely shaken, but they do
not dream of claiming damages on that account. If you could have shown,
Mrs Podge, that you had suffered loss of any kind, we should have
_offered_ you compensation promptly, but as things stand--"
"Well, well," exclaimed Mrs Podge, testily. "I suppose I must give it
up, but I don't see why railway companies should be allowed to shock my
nerves and then refuse to give me any compensation!"
"But we do not absolutely refuse _all_ compensation," said Mr Sharp,
drawing out his purse; "if a sovereign will pay the five shilling fee of
your doctor, and any other little expenses that you may have incurred,
you are welcome to it."
Mrs Podge extended her hand, Mr Sharp dropped the piece of gold into
it, and then, wishing her good afternoon, quitted the house.
The superintendent of police meditated, as he walked smartly away from
Mrs Podge, on the wonderful differences that were to be met with in
mankind, as to the matter of acquisitiveness, and his mind reverted to a
visit he had paid some time before, to another of the passengers in the
train to which the accident occurred. This was the commercial traveller
who had one of his legs rather severely injured. He willingly showed
his injured limb to our superintendent, when asked to do so, but
positively declined to accept of any compensation whatever, although it
was offered, and appeared to think himself handsomely treated when a few
free passes were sent to him by the manager.
Contrasting Mrs Podge unfavourably with this rare variety of the
injured human race, Mr Sharp continued his walk until he reached a part
of the line, not far from the station, where a large number of vans and
waggons were shunted on to sidings,--some empty, others loaded,--waiting
to be made up into trains and forwarded to their several destinations.