The Dumpling : $b A detective love story of a great labour rising — John Shaqi
The Dumpling : $b A detective love story of a great labour risingKernahan, Coulson
General
The Dumpling : $b A detective love story of a great labour rising
Kernahan, Coulson
Detective and mystery stories; English fiction -- 20th century
Witnessing my rather ceremonious "send off," the very young and perhaps
recently-enlisted member of the force, on duty in the outer office,
had evidently been duly impressed with the fact that I was a person of
some weight. On my presenting myself at the station next morning, he
greeted me with a smile of obsequious respect, and without waiting to
report my call to the superintendent, conducted me importantly, and
with a great air of knowing when and to whom to accord honour, straight
into the august presence of his chief. The somewhat officious air with
which he announced "Mr. Rissler, sir," was speedily changed into a
look of blank and crest-fallen surprise, for instead of receiving me as
a favoured caller, the superintendent--who, as we entered, had his ear
glued to the telephone--jumped up in a passion, and shouted:
"How dare you show this person, or any person, into my room without
permission?"
Looking at me viciously, as at one who had been guilty of the crime of
obtaining a respectful reception under false pretences, the unfortunate
constable stammered out:
"Very sorry, sir; but thought that the gentlem--person--was a friend
of yours." And, saluting with a proper air of chastened humility, he
withdrew.
Scarcely had the door closed behind him before the telephone bell
clashed its discordant jangling at the superintendent's very ear,
jarring the nerves of both of us, and causing him almost to jump in his
shoes.
Then I "tumbled" to the situation. If I was not very much mistaken,
he had been in communication with Scotland Yard at the moment of my
entrance, the subject of the conference being none other than my
humble self; and, judging by the marked difference in my reception,
and by the way in which, with one ear stooped to the telephone, he was
glaring at me with both eyes, his last night's reception of myself and
his communicativeness had not come in for his chief's commendation.
That he had been receiving something of a jacketing his first few words
told.
"Are you there? Oh, it's you, sir, again--is it? Yes, sir, I did hear
what you said just now, and am very sorry. What do you say? No, sir, I
didn't leave the telephone before you had done speaking. I shouldn't
think of doing such a thing, but somebody came into my room and
interrupted me. Will you excuse me a second, sir, while I turn them
out? Then I think I can explain why I acted as I did."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account