The crowd protested. It was an exhilarating scene—better than the pictures, some opined. And here was a blighter, who talked funny talk, interfering.
"Just like these hem furriners," said an old man. "Ca-a-n't let well a-be."
Then, happily, or unhappily, the police, who exist to spoil the people's fun, appeared on the scene.
They made a little blue knot round Ernie, who stood in the midst of them, stripped and dripping, with something of the forlorn look of a shorn ewe that has just been dipped.
Alf, secure now in the presence of the officers of the law, descended from his window and came down the steps of his house towards the growing crowd. A tall man joined him. The pair forced their way through the press to the police.
"I'm Captain Royal," said the tall man, coldly. "I saw what happened."
Joe turned on the new-comer. His clothes, his class, a touch of insolence about his tone and bearing, roused all the combative instincts of the engineer.
"You wasn't standin by then!" he said ferociously. "You only just come up. A saw you."
The other ignored him, drawing a card from an elegant case.
"Here's my card," he said to the police. "If you want my evidence you'll know where to find me."