The Cabman's Story Read online

dead at the time he was shoved intothe cab. Just before the inquest four little blue spots came outon one side of his neck, and one on the other, and they said onlya woman's hand could have fitted over them, so they brought in averdict of willful murder; but, bless you, they had managed it soneatly that there was not a clue to the women, nor to the man either,for everything by which he might have been identified had beenremoved from his pockets. The police were fairly puzzled by thatcase. I've always thought what a bit o' luck it was that I got myfare, for I wouldn't have had much chance of it if it hadn't beenpaid in advance."

  My friend the driver began to get very husky about the throat at thisstage of the proceedings, and slackened his speed very noticeably aswe approached a large public-house, so that I felt constrained tooffer him another gin, which he graciously accepted. The ladies hadsome wine, too, and I followed the example of my companion on thebox, so that we all started refreshed.

  "The police and me's been mixed up a good deal," continued theveteran resuming his reminiscences: "They took the best customer Iever had away from me. I'd have made my fortin if they'd let himcarry on his little game a while longer."

  Here, with the coquetry of one who knows that his words are ofinterest, the driver began to look around him with an air ofabstraction and to comment upon the weather.

  "Well, what about your customer and the police?" I asked.

  "It's not much to tell," he said, coming back to his subject. "Onemorning I was driving across Vauxhall Bridge when I was hailed by acrooked old man with a pair of spectacles on, who was standing atthe Middlesex end, with a big leather bag in his hand. 'Drive anywhereyou like,' he said; 'only don't drive fast for I'm getting old, andit shakes me to pieces.' He jumped in, and shut himself up, closingthe windows, and I trotted about with him for three hours, before helet me know that he had had enough. When I stopped, out he hoppedwith his big bag in his hand.

  "'I say cabbie!' he said, after he had paid his fare.

  "'Yes, sir,' said I, touching my hat.

  "'You seem to be a decent sort of fellow, and you don't go in thebreak-neck way of some of your kind. I don't mind giving you thesame job every day. The doctors recommend gentle exercise of thesort, and you may as well drive me as another. Just pick me up atthe same place tomorrow.'

  "Well, to make a long story short, I used to find the little man inhis place every morning, always with his black bag, and for nighon to four months never a day passed without his having his threehours' drive and paying his fare like a man at the end of it. Ishifted into new quarters on the strength of it, and was able to buya new set of harness. I don't say as I altogether swallowed thestory of the doctors having recommended him on a hot day to go aboutin a growler with both windows up. However, it's a bad thing in thisworld to be too knowing, so though I own I felt a bit curious attimes, I never put myself out o' the way to find out what the littlegame was. One day, I was driving tap to my usual place of droppinghim--for by this time we had got into the way of going a regularbeat every morning--when I saw a policeman waiting, with a perkysort of look about him, as if he had some job on hand. When thecab stopped out jumped the little man with his bag right into thearms of the 'bobby.'

  "'I arrest you, John Malone,' says the policeman.

  "'On what charge?' he answers as cool as a turnip.

  "'On the charge of forging Bank of England notes,' says the 'bobby'.

  "'Oh, then the game is up!' he cries, and with that he pulls off hisspectacles, and his wig and whiskers, and there he was, as smart ayoung fellow as you'd wish to see.

  "'Good-bye, cabby,' he cried, as they led him off, and that was thelast I saw of him, marching along between two of them, and anotherbehind with the bag."

  "And why did he take a cab?" I asked, much interested.

  "Well, you see, he had all his plant for making the notes in thatbag. If he were to lock himself up in his lodging several hours aday it would soon set people wondering, to say nothing of the chanceof eyes at the window or key-hole. Again, you see, if he took ahouse all on his own hook, without servant nor anyone, it would lookqueer. So he made up his mind as the best way of working it was tocarry it on in a closed cab, and I don't know that he wasn't right. He was known to the police however, and that was how they spottedhim. Drat that van! It was as near as a touch to my off-wheel.

  "Bless you, if I was to tell you all the thieves and burglars, andeven murderers, as have been in my growler one time or another, you'dthink I'd given the whole Newgate Calendar a lift, though to be surethis young chap as I spoke of was the only one as ever reg'lar set upin business there. There was one though as I reckon to be worse thanall the others put together, if he was what I think him to be. It'soften laid heavy on my mind that I didn't have that chap collaredbefore it was too late, for I might have saved some mischief. It wasabout ten years ago--I never was a good hand for dates--that Ipicked up a stout-built sailor-sort of fellow, with a reddishmoustache, who wanted to be taken down to the docks. After this chapas I told you of had taken such liberties with the premises I'd had alittle bit of a glass slit let in in front here--the same that yourlittle boy's flattening his nose against at this moment--so as Icould prevent any such games in the future, and have an idea,whenever I wished, of what was going on inside. Well, something oranother about this sailor fellow made me suspicious of him, and Itook a look at what he was after. He was sitting on the seat, sir,with a big lump o' coal in his lap, and was a looking at it mostattentive. Now this seemed to me rather a rum start, so I kept onwatching of him, for as you'll see, my window's not a very large one,and it's easier to see through it than to be seen. Well, he pulls aspring or something, and out jumps one of the sides of this bit ofcoal, and then I saw it was really a hollow box, painted, you see,and made rough so as to look like the other. I couldn't make head ortail of it anyhow, and indeed I'd pretty near forgot all about itwhen there came news of the explosion at Bemerhaven, and people beganto talk about coal torpedoes. Then I knew as in all probability I'dcarried the man who managed the business, and I gave word to thepolice, but they never could make anything of it. You know what a coaltorpedo is, don't you? Well, you see, a cove insures his ship formore than its value, and then off he goes and makes a box like a bito'coal, and fills it chock full with dynamite, or some other cowardlystuff of the sort. He drops this box among the other coals on the quaywhen the vessel is filling her bunkers, and then in course of timebox is shoveled on to the furnaces, when of course the whole ship isblown sky high. They say there's many a good ship gone to the bottomlike that."

  "You've certainly had some queer experiences," I said.

  "Why bless you!" remarked the driver, "I've hardly got fairlystarted yet, and here we are at the 'Alexandry.' I could tell youmany another story as strange as these--and true, mind ye, true asGospel. If ever your missus looks in need of a breath of fresh airyou send round for me--Copper Street, number ninety-four--andI'll give her a turn into the country, and if you'll come up besideme on the box, I'll tell you a good deal that may surprise you. Butthere's your little lad a hollering to you like mad, and the wifewants to get out, and the other one's a tapping at the window with aparasol. Take care how you get down, sir! That's right! Don'tforget number ninety-four! Good-day missus! Good-day, sir!" Andthe growler rumbled heavily away until I lost sight both of it and ofits communicative driver among the crowd of holiday-makers whothronged the road which led to the Palace.