Bindle Part 37
"Well, I'll 'elp yer; but it's a pity, it's always a pity when a nice chap like you gets balmy on a bit o' skirt."
"Right-oh!" said Little. "I knew you would."
A week later Bindle, wearing what he called his "uniform," met d.i.c.k Little by appointment outside Lady k.n.o.b-Kerrick's house on Putney Hill. Miss Kerrick had arranged to be ready at 9.30. d.i.c.k Little had borrowed, through his brother, Guggers' Rolls-Royce, which, according to the owner, would "gug-gug-go anywhere and do anything."
Guggers volunteered to drive himself. At 9.30 the car slid silently down the road at the side of Lady k.n.o.b-Kerrick's house. It was a dark night and the lights were hooded. Under the shade of a huge elm, and drawn close up against the house, no one could distinguish the car from the surrounding shadow.
A short ladder was placed in the tonneau and reared up against the wall. Bindle and Little both mounted the wall and waited what to Little seemed hours. It was nearly ten o'clock before a slight sound on the gravel announced the approach of someone. A subdued whistle from d.i.c.k Little produced a tremulous answer. Not a word was spoken. Presently a sc.r.a.ping against the wall announced the placing of the ladder from inside the garden, and a moment later a voice whispered:
"Is that you, d.i.c.k?"
"Yes, Ettie," was the reply. "Quick. I've got a friend here."
"It's all right, miss," whispered Bindle; "I'll catch hold of one arm and Mr. Little will do ditto with the other, and 'fore you can wink you'll be over. You ain't the screamin' sort, are yer?" he enquired anxiously.
A little laugh answered him.
"Now then, look slippy, in case the old gal-sorry, miss, yer mother-smells a rat."
It was a hot, soundless night. The atmosphere hung round them like a heavy garment saturated with moisture. Every sound seemed to be magnified. As he finished speaking, Bindle's quick ear detected a footstep inside the garden. Bending down he whispered to Guggers:
"Start the car, sir, there's someone comin'. Come along, miss," he added.
"Ethel!" Three hearts gave a great leap at the sound of a harsh, uncompromising voice from almost beneath them.
"Ethel, where are you? You will catch your death of cold walking about the garden at this time of night. Come in at once!"
It was Lady k.n.o.b-Kerrick. There was no mistaking her disapproving voice. Bindle grinned as he recollected the inglorious figure she had cut at the Temperance Fete.
"Ethel, where are you?" The voice cut sharply through the still air.
"Steady, sir," whispered Bindle to d.i.c.k Little, who had lifted Miss Kerrick off the wall.
"I'll keep the ole gal jawin'. Tell ole Spit-and-Speak to get off quietly."
"Strint!" Lady k.n.o.b-Kerrick's voice again rang out. "Strint, where are you?"
Bindle heard the sound of feet hastening down the path. He was standing on the wall, grasping with one hand the top of the ladder used by Miss Kerrick, which reached some three feet above the top of the wall. He had taken the precaution of putting his uniform in his pocket "in case I gets nabbed," as he explained to d.i.c.k Little.
Bindle heard a suppressed "gug-gug" from Guggers, on whose head Miss Kerrick had alighted. He wondered why Guggers had not started the engine.
Somewhere below him he heard Lady k.n.o.b-Kerrick moving about. Would she find the ladder? If she did, how was he to cover the retreat of the car? He was conscious of enjoying to the full the excitement of the situation.
"Where is Miss k.n.o.b-Kerrick?" Lady k.n.o.b-Kerrick always insisted on the "k.n.o.b." Her voice came from out of the darkness immediately below where Bindle was standing.
"I'm afraid--" began another voice, that of Miss Strint, when suddenly several things seemed to happen at once. There was a triumphant "Ah!" from Lady k.n.o.b-Kerrick, as she found the ladder and wrenched it from the wall, a yell from Bindle as he lost his balance, and an agonised shriek from Miss Strint, as she was swept from her feet by what she thought was a bomb, but what in reality was the ladder, which fell, pinning her to the earth.
"Help! Help!! Murder!!!" shrieked Lady k.n.o.b-Kerrick, until Bindle reached the ground, marvelling at the softness of the substance on which he had fallen, when her cries ceased suddenly and only the moans of Miss Strint were to be heard by the servants, who rushed from the house to the rescue.
On the other side of the wall the two occupants of the car held their breath, but Guggers saw in the sudden pandemonium that for which he had been waiting, and the Rolls-Royce leapt forward.
"Stop, Guggers," whispered d.i.c.k Little, leaning forward, "we can't leave him like this."
"Gug-gug-go to blazes! This is my car," was the response, as they tore up Putney Hill on the way to Walton, where Miss Kerrick was to spend the night with Guggers' sister.
II
Five minutes later Bindle stood in Lady k.n.o.b-Kerrick's drawing-room with Thomas, the footman, holding one arm, and Wilton, the butler, the other. On Wilton's face was an expression of disgust at having temporarily to usurp the duties of the police.
Lady k.n.o.b-Kerrick had made enquiries of the servants, and was now convinced that her daughter had either eloped or been abducted. Her hair was disarranged, there was dirt upon her face, and leaves and mould upon her gown; but of these she was unconscious, and she regarded Bindle with an expression of grim triumph. At least she had captured one of the ruffians, probably the worst.
Bindle himself was quite self-possessed. All he desired was to gain time so that the fugitives might get well beyond the possibility of capture.
"Now, look here, Calves," he remarked, obliquely examining the footman's gorgeous raiment, "if you pinch I kick. See?"
Apprehensive of an attack upon his white silk legs, Thomas moved away as far as he could, holding Bindle at arm's-length.
"I have had the police telephoned for," said Lady k.n.o.b-Kerrick grimly. "Now, where is Miss k.n.o.b-Kerrick?"
"You may search me, mum," replied Bindle imperturbably.
"You were with the villains who abducted her," snapped Lady k.n.o.b-Kerrick.
"Who wot, mum?"
"Abducted her."
"I never done that to any woman. I kissed a few, but I never gone further. Mrs. Bindle (my name's Bindle-Joseph Bindle) is sort o' particular."
"Then you refuse to confess?" Lady k.n.o.b-Kerrick glared at Bindle through her lorgnettes.
"I ain't got nothin' to confess, mum; leastways nothin' I'd like to say 'fore a lady. Look 'ere, d.i.c.ky-Bird, if you pinch my arm I'll break your bloomin' shins." This last remark was addressed to Wilton, whom Bindle examined with insulting deliberation. "Must cost a bit to keep yer in clean d.i.c.kies, ole son," he remarked. Wilton writhed. Bindle suddenly caught sight of Miss Strint slipping into the room, looking very ill and obviously in a state bordering on hysteria.
"'Ello, miss, you do look bad. I hope you ain't 'urt." There was solicitude in Bindle's voice.
"I am very upset and--"
"Strint!" admonished Lady k.n.o.b-Kerrick, "please be silent. How dare you converse with this man?"
"Now look 'ere, mum, I ain't said much so far, but you're goin' to get into a bit of a mess if yer ain't careful. If you'll just call orf d.i.c.ky-Bird and Calves, I'll show yer wot an' 'oo I am. I'm a special constable, I am, and you done a fine thing to-night. P'r'aps yer know the law, p'r'aps yer don't. But this is a case for 'eavy damages. Now, d.i.c.ky-Bird, leggo!"
With a dexterous movement Bindle wrenched his arm free from Wilton's clutch, and drew his truncheon, which he flourished under the nose of his astonished captors. Thomas, fearing an attack, released the arm he held and retreated precipitately to the door.
"Thomas! Wilton!" shrieked Lady k.n.o.b-Kerrick, "hold him, don't let him escape."
"I'll keep the door, m' lady," said Thomas, his hand on the handle, his att.i.tude that of a man solicitous as to his own safety rather than desirous of preventing another's escape.
With great deliberation Bindle produced his armlet and whistle.