"If you're not quiet I'll shoot—God forgive me, but I will," he shouted over his shoulder. Then turning to Mr. Miller he winked jocosely. "Gettin' a bit impatient, sir. They 'eard you come, I s'pose. I've 'ad 'em there for several hours now. Ah! 'ere's the perlice!"
As he spoke another car appeared round the bend of the drive, and an inspector in uniform and three plain-clothes men got out.
"Now there's goin' to be some fun," the foreman chuckled to himself as, addressing Mr. Miller, he told of the happenings of the night before.
When he had finished, the features of Bindle, who had been relieved by Ginger, were suffused with a grin so broad and good-humoured that it contrasted strangely with the astonishment written on the faces of the others.
"That's the story, gentlemen, and there's my bag," jerking his thumb in the direction of the pantechnicon. "Four of 'em there are, I counted 'em carefully, an' every one a Charles Peace. You'd better be careful as you let 'em out," he added. "I 'adn't time to search 'em. They came so quick, like flies in summer."
The inspector breathed hard, Mr. Miller looked grave and concerned, the plain-clothes men looked blank, Bindle looked cheerful, whilst the foreman looked as a man looks only once in a lifetime. Deliberately he approached the tail of the van, undid the lock, removed the bar, threw open the doors, and stood quietly aside. For fully half a minute nothing happened; then the portly form of Sergeant Wrannock emerged.
"Wrannock!" gasped the inspector from Lowestoft. The sergeant forgot to salute his superior officer. He was humiliated. His collar was torn, one eye was blackened, and his nose was swollen.
Closely following him came Sir Charles Custance and Mr. Greenhales, who between them supported the inert form of Mr. Gandy, wheezing pitifully. All were much battered. Sir Charles's face was covered with blood, Mr. Greenhales had lost his wig and his false teeth, whilst Mr. Gandy had lost the power to move.
"What in heaven's name is the meaning of this?" asked the inspector.
"It means," thundered Sir Charles, who was the first to find his voice, "that we have been brutally and murderously assaulted by a band of ruffians."