Chauffeurs -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Short stories
So far as I could see from the road there was only one lamp showing in
the place, and that was on the off-side, so to speak, in a little
window of a bedroom--but the boy said afterwards that there was a glim
in the hall, and he was old enough to have known. Taken altogether,
you wouldn't have offered them thirty pounds a year for the lot unless
you had been a Rothschild with a cook to pension off--and what such
people wanted with a Napier limousine at three guineas the job I really
could not have said. This, however, was no business of mine; so I just
gave the lad a penny and settled myself down in my seat until the
Duchess in the apron should appear.
It wasn't a long time I had to wait, perhaps five minutes, perhaps ten.
I told the police, when they questioned me afterwards, to split the
difference, for none but a policeman could have told you what it had
got to do with my story. When the door did open at last, a couple of
men carrying a basket came down the bit of a garden, and the first of
them wished me "Good evening" very civilly. Then they let the basket
down softly on to the pavement and began to talk to me about it.
"How strong's your roof?" asked the first, speaking with a nasal twang
I couldn't quite place. "Will it take this bit of a basket all right?"
"Why," says I, "it might depend on what you've got inside that same.
Have I come for the washing, or do I drive your plate to the Bank of
England?"
The second, the taller man of the two, laughed at this; but the first
seemed very uneasy, and it was not lost upon me that he glanced to the
right and the left of him as though afraid that someone would come up
and hear what his friend had to say next.
"I guess it's neither one nor the other," the first speaker went on.
"We're playing theatricals at the Hampstead Town Hall to-morrow night,
and these are the dresses. We want you to take them up to the Boundary
Road, St. John's Wood--I'll show you the house when we get there; but
it's called Bredfield, and you'll know it by a square-toed lamp up
against the side-track. Perhaps you can give us a hand with the
baggage--and say, have you any objection to gold when you can't get
silver?"
He passed up a sovereign and I put it inside my glove. Moss had told
me to collect the shekels before I drove them a mile, and so I told the
pair of them as I was getting down the luggage ladder, which
fortunately I had brought, not knowing the job. A bit to my surprise
they paid up immediately, but I made no remark about that; and when I
had signed the receipt by the light of my near-side lamp, I helped them
up with the basket and soon had it strapped to the rails in a way that
satisfied even the nervous little man with the saucer eyes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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