Page:How I Acted for an Invalid Doctor.pdf/6

258 tyres I saw patches of quite fresh mud upon them—indeed, in places it was still wet. Over in the stable Cave was whistling softly as he groomed the horse.

"Did it rain in the night?" I said, leaning over the half-door.

"There was a bit of a sprinkle, I think, sir."

"Weren't you out in it, then?"

“Me, sir? Not I, thank goodness!"

"But didn't you take the cycle out?"

"Cycle out?" he repeated, eyeing me sharply. "I took no cycle out."

I thought it best to change the subject.

"Roads are very good about here, aren't they?" I suggested.

"Very good indeed, sir."

As I went in to breakfast I wondered at the man's denial. The cycle had certainly been used, and no one but he could have ridden it. Why, then, did he lie about such a trifle?

"How is the doctor this morning?" I inquired as Mrs. Carpenter brought in the breakfast.

"He's doing nicely, thank you, sir, and will be glad to see you when you've done."

I found Ringmer as genial as ever, and he made no allusion to the affair of the instrument cabinet. He had had a splendid night after the "Nepenthe," he said, and thought if the work continued slack he would run down to Brighton for a week. There would be only one patient for me to visit, so far as he knew—the wife of the sergeant in charge of the police station; he had not seen her for a couple of days, and she was doing so well then that I should probably be able to strike her off the list altogether. I could cycle there; it was only just at the other end of the town.

It occurred to me then to mention the cycle track I had seen at the gate. I felt that I ought to let him know, for if he went off as he proposed, I should be in a way responsible for the household. I was sorry I did so, however, for I had hardly spoken when he raised his fist, clenched tightly, and seemed about to flare out with something; but the mood passed, and he treated the matter lightly.

"Oh, it's that fellow Cave again," he laughed. "The fact is he's after a girl at one of the houses in the neighbourhood, and since I gave him permission to use the cycle I suppose he finds it handy for a little early spooning; but he's a faithful servant, and as good a fellow as ever stepped."

Although no one could have been more civil, it struck me that his manner was rather constrained after this; it might simply have been a reflection of his annoyance with Cave, although I thought he resented my interference. Anyhow, it was no further concern of mine.

One or two "clubbers" arrived after breakfast, whom I religiously dosed from the stock mixtures. Poor creatures, their faith in drugs was greater than mine! It was nearing eleven when I started out on my visit to the police station. Crowham, I found, was not quite so small as it appeared at first. The principal street had numerous side ones branching off it, and turning up one I stumbled on the quaintest old market square. Here there was a curious round structure with benches running all round it for the village gossips to foregather—the 'cage,' as I learnt, now obsolete. Its successor was at the farther end of the town, and when I got there I found that Ringmer's forecast was correct, and that the patient would need little more attention. I had stood my cycle in the front garden of the little red-brick building, almost too pretty for a police station, and when I came out I was disgusted to find that the back tyre was nearly flat, the valve washer I had put in over-night having failed me. The sergeant, a true cyclist, lent a ready hand, and between us we soon had the machine upside down, when I found, in addition, a thorn sticking tightly in the rubber. I was commencing to remove the tyre with my fingers when I suddenly remembered my new lever, and fished it out of the tool-bag. The weather was warm, so I was not long waiting for the patch to stick; but when I had replaced the tyre I found that the reason the sergeant had left me to do the latter part of the process unassisted was his curious interest in my lever, which he was still examining intently.

"This is a queer sort of a tool," he remarked at last.

"Yes," said I. "Did you ever see one like it before?"

"Where did you come across it?" he asked, ignoring my question.

"In Crowham." I began to be impatient, and the sergeant’s manner was just a trifle inquisitorial.

"Look here, sir," he continued apologetically; "I don't want to say anything to