It was about time, since two more of the Law were coming up the street in the other direction. Dennis had turned towards the house to impart the intelligence that the fugitive had taken to the sparrow-tops, confirming their belief of his presence in the house. Those who were approaching on the pavement seemed to be within earshot, so I counted on the belief that they had heard Dennis's, "Clear out!" Forgetting Mrs. M'Corseter's, I turned away and strolled off in the opposite direction from them, whistling.
The seconds lengthened, but there was no sound of pursuit. I expected it, since matters would be clear enough if they should happen to spot that open window behind the shadow of the larch: yet there was no noise at all except a stir and mutter. Nobody else was in the street. Nevertheless, at any minute I might encounter another scouring-party, and they would not be in the same frame of mind as P.C. Dennis. I walked not too hurriedly, in the direction away from Liberia Avenue, breathing deeply of the night air and revolving murderous plans which concerned H.M. Just as a church-clock struck eleven somewhere to the west, I came to an intersecting street and saw what I had hoped for: a telephone-box.
It was illuminated, of course, and its glass sides gave no more shelter than a show-case; but once I could reach Charters or H.M. I was not concerned with that. Putting down my bundle, I felt in my pocket after coins. Then was when I remembered most distinctly that my wallet was in the breast pocket of the coat at the police station. In my trousers pocket I found the sum of threepence-halfpenny in coppers — no more.
Nevertheless, since Torquay was only ten odd miles off, threepence should suffice for the call. I got the Exchange, and explained exactly what I wanted, making it official business: I must speak personally with Colonel Charters, either at the central office or at his home. Even at the last moment I was afraid that the cussedness of all human events would prevent it, and I almost yelped with relief when, out of the buzzing and gear-shifting along the line, Charters's voice wormed through.
"My pal," I said, putting into it all the concentrated venom that the words would hold.
Either Charters or the telephone cleared its throat, noisily. Charters spoke in that stiff manner which authority always uses even when it has dropped a brick.
"Blake? Sorry, Blake. I'm afraid we've made a mistake. It's quite all right: you'll be released immediately: I've already sent the order through. Merrivale discovered I suppose you're at the police station?"
"No, I am not at the police station. I am at a telephone-box somewhere out in the wilds, in my shirtsleeves and with exactly one halfpenny in my pocket. The whole constabulary of Moreton Abbot has been chasing me for what seems like the last two days, after throwing me into clink on your order. In a bundle right here I've got a stolen policeman's uniform, a lantern, and the rest of my own clothes. I may add that I would like to strangle you with the necktie."
"You tried to escape? Blake, I didn't know you could be such a fool! If you had only been content to sit down and wait-"
I shut my eyes. "Colonel Charters," I said, "the time is short and it is no good arguing with a man who has a sense of gratitude like yours. What I am trying to tell you is that I DID escape. And before we go any farther, will you for God's sake tell me what did happen and why I was arrested?"