“Let me see,” Chauncey mused. “Bah Jove, not to fawther, ye know. They’d see the name, ruin the family reputation. A deuced mess! Oh yes, bah Jove, I’ll have all me uncles, ye know! Ready there? First, Mr. Perry Bellwood, —— Fifth Avenue——”
“What!” gasped the officer.
“Write what I say,” commanded Chauncey, sternly; “and no comments! Second, Mr. W. K. Vanderpool, —— Fifth Avenue. Third—bah Jove—Mr. W. C. Stickhey, —— Fifth Avenue. Fourth——”
“How many do you want?” expostulated the other.
“Silence!” roared the “dude.” “Do as I say! I take no chances. Fourth, Mr. Bradley-Marvin, —— Fifth Avenue. And that’ll do, I guess, ye know. Run for your life, then, deuce take it, and I’ll give you another five if they get here in a hawf hour, bah Jove.”
There was probably no more amazed policeman on the metropolitan force than that one. But he hustled according to orders none the less. Certainly there was no more satisfied plebe in the whole academy class than Mr. Chauncey Van Rensselaer Mount-Bonsall of New York. “It’s all right now, bah Jove,” said he. “They’ll be here soon.”
And with those words of comfort Chauncey subsided and was asleep from sheer exhaustion two minutes later. Though he slept, forgetful of the whole affair, there were a few others who did not sleep, messenger boys and millionaires especially.
The sergeant at the desk had had no one but one “drunk” to register during the next half hour, and so he was pretty nearly asleep himself. The doorman was slumbering peacefully in his chair, and two or three roundsmen and officers were sitting together in one corner whispering. That was the state of affairs in the police station when something happened all of a sudden that made everybody leap up with interest.
A carriage came slamming up the street at race-horse speed. Any one who has lain awake at night, or rather in the early hours of morning, when the city is as silent as a graveyard, has noticed the clatter made by a single wagon. An approaching tornado or earthquake could not have made much more of a rumpus than this one. The sergeant sat up in alarm and the doorman flung upon the door and rushed out to see what was the matter.
They were soon to learn—the driver yanked up his galloping horses directly in front of the building. At the same instant the coach door was flung open with a bang. It was an elderly gentleman who hopped out, and he made a dash for the entrance, nearly bowling the doorman over in his haste.