I was thoroughly awake now, and somewhat refreshed as I ascended the stairs very gently, having risen now to the honour of a latchkey. It was Revitts’ turn for day-duty, and I was unwilling to disturb him, so I had slipped off my boots, and cautiously turning the handle of the door, I entered, to find, to my surprise, a light burning, and Mr Revitts buttoned up in his uniform and with his heavy hat upon his head.
“Oh, here you are, then,” he cried roughly.
“What, not in bed!” I said.
“In bed? How was I going to bed? I was just orf to the station to send word round as you was missing, and to make inquiries where the vans went from.”
“Oh, Mr Revitts! Oh, Bill, I am sorry!” I cried.
“Don’t you Bill me, young man,” he cried. “Now, lookye here. Was it an accident to the van as made you late?”
“No,” I said; “it was—”
“There!” he cried, bringing his fist down heavily upon the table. “I won’t hear another word. I won’t listen to you. Those vans was doo back at ten thirty—say eleven, and it’s now two forty-five.”
“Yes, Bill, but—”
“Don’t Bill me,” he cried; and, running to the corner of the room, he caught up a black silver-topped cane, with shabby silk tassels. “Look here,” he said; “for the last hour or two I’ve been thinking whether, as your best friend, I oughtn’t to give you a good wilting down, only you’re such a man now that I can’t stoop to hit the feller as I’ve made my friend.”