Finding that nothing could break down the doctor's relentless refusal, Bindle reluctantly departed.
During the week following he made application at several other recruiting offices, but always with the same result.
"Nothin' doin'," he mumbled. "Nothin' left for me but to become a bloomin' slop. I must do somethink." And he entered the local police-station.
"What is it?" enquired the officer in charge.
"Come to gi' meself up," said Bindle with a grin. "Goin' to be a special constable and run in all me dear ole pals."
He found the interrogations here far less severe. Certain particulars were asked of him. Finally he was told that he would hear in due course whether or no his services were accepted.
After an interval of about a week Bindle was sworn in. A few days later he called once more at the police-station for his equipment. As the truncheon, armlet, and whistle were handed to him, he eyed the articles dubiously, then looking up at the officer, enquired:
"This all I got to wear? It don't seem decent."
He was told that he would wear his ordinary clothes, and would be expected to report himself for duty at a certain hour on the following Monday.
On his way home he called in on his brother-in-law and, to the delight of Smith and the errand boy, solemnly informed Mr. Hearty of the step he had taken.