“Yes, I’ve got business in Wreckumoft, so we’ll have the pleasure o’ travellin’ together.”
The gentlemanly man felt that the pleasure would be entirely confined to one side. However, he expressed much joy at the prospect of such good company, as the policeman sat down beside him.
The train gave a pant, then a snort, then an impatient whistle. Then the bell rang a second time, the whistle sounded a single note, and the carriages moved slowly away. A moment more, and they were sweeping out of the station; a moment more and they were rushing over the moor; another moment, and they were dashing through space, setting all terrestrial things at naught, until a station came in view; then the whistle uttered a prolonged shriek, and the train began to slow. Up to this point the policeman and his friends had sat together in comparative silence.
The former put his head out of the window, and remarked that, “there was a feller as would be too late for the train.”
The moonlight enabled him to perceive that the late man was a labourer of some sort.
The train ran into the station and stopped.
“Tickets ready!” shouted the guard.
“That’ll give him a chance,” observed the gentlemanly burglar.
“All right?” inquired the guard.
“All right,” replied the ticket-inspector. The bell rang, the guard whistled, so did the engine; it puffed too, and the train began to move.