"The name of the house is pronounced _Song Soocee_," I said, "not, as
spelt, Sans Souci."
The Inspector handed me back the card. It was a cigarette-picture
representing the proper method of bandaging a displaced knee-cap. I
rectified the error, and he entered the information in a book.
"I must ask if you are a British subject?" he inquired.
"You might almost describe me as super-British," I replied. "There is a
tradition in my family that my ancestors were on Hastings Pier when the
Conqueror arrived."
"Thank you. That will be all."
"You don't want me to give references, one of which must be a clergyman
or a J.P.? You don't require me to state previous experience, if any, or
any details of that sort?"
"Oh, no," he answered. "That'll be all right. You are no doubt familiar
with squad drill?"
"Splendid! I had no idea it was used in the Force."
"Eight turn--left turn--about turn--form fours--and so on?"
"I beg your pardon," I said, "but what did you call that?"
"Squad drill, Sir."
"O-o-h! I thought you said 'quadrille'. But I know the turns. Right turn,
I turn to the right; left turn, I turn to the left; about turn, I turn
just about, but not quite; form fours, I form--excuse me, but how does
_one_ man form fours?"
"There will, of course, be others," replied the Inspector. "You'll soon
pick it up. And please state at what hours of the day you would be
prepared to take duty."
"Well," I said, "I've practically nothing to do from the time I get
up--half-past ten--until mid-day. I could also manage to spare
half-an-hour between afternoon-tea and dinner. And I could just drop in
here about eleven at night to see if things were going along all right.
Now, if you'll kindly fetch me a bull's-eye lantern, a life-preserver, a
bullet-proof tunic, some indiarubber boots, a revolver, and a letter of
introduction to some of the most skilful cooks in the neighbourhood I
can put in one crowded hour of joyous life before I'm due on the links."
"Just a moment," said the Inspector. "I don't want to discourage you,
but kindly cast your eye over these paragraphs;" and he handed me a
printed circular. "You will see that it will be necessary for you to
perform four consecutive hours' duty."
"Good heavens," I exclaimed, "I don't think I shall be able to manage
that. I'm in the middle of an important jig-saw; I'm expecting a new
motor-car to arrive any minute; and I have a slight head-cold. However,
if my country calls me, I will see what can be arranged."
I noticed the Inspector's look of admiration at my bull-dog resolution,
so to hide my blushes I perused the circular.
"I see," I said, "that we are each supplied with 'one armlet.' What's an
armlet?".
"A badge that goes round your arm."
"Of course! How stupid of me! Just like a bracelet goes round one's--no,
that won't do. Just like a gimlet goes--no, that doesn't either. I can't
think of a simile, but I quite understand. Then we have 'one whistle.'
What's that for? To whistle on if I feel lonely?"
"To summon assistance if you should require it."
"I have an idea that my whistle will be overworked. Shall I be able to
get a new one when the original's worn out?"
The Inspector thought there would be no difficulty in my getting
rewhistled.
"'One truncheon,'" I continued. "That, of course, is to trunch with. One
truncheon, though, seems rather niggardly. I should prefer two, one in
each hand. 'One note-book'--is that for autographs and original
contributions from my brother Specials?"
"For noting names and addresses and details of cases," explained the
Inspector. "For instance, if, when on duty, you saw Jack Johnson
committing a breach of the peace you would--"
"Blow my whistle hard--"
"Certainly not. You would take his name and address and note it down."
"And if he refused it I could then whistle for help?"
"No, you would at once arrest him."
"What's the earliest possible moment at which it would be etiquette to
blow my whistle?"
"When he offered resistance. Then you could whistle."
"No, I couldn't," I said, "not unless my equipment included one pair of
bellows. Do you mean to tell me that I should be expected to arrest a
man of infinitely superior physique to my own with no other weapons than
one armlet, one whistle, one truncheon and one note-book? Surely I should
be allowed to run for the Mayor and get him to read the Riot Act? If
not, I can only say a policeman's lot is----"
"Not a happy one?" put in the Inspector.
"I was going to say a policeman's lot is a lot too much. Would you
kindly cross my name off your list?"
"I crossed it off some minutes ago," replied the Inspector.
* * * * *