the gentleman would be impressed by the differencebetween our parlour and our kitchen," replied the girl quaintly, "andit is warmer here."
"What's the matter with the parlour now?" demanded her father sourly."It was good enough for your mother and me. It used to be good enoughfor you."
"There is nothing the matter with it, nor with the kitchen either."She turned impassively to the two who had followed her along thenarrow passage. "Will you go in, sir?"
"I don't want to see no gentleman," cried Hutchins noisily."Unless"--his manner suddenly changed to one of pitiableanxiety--"unless you're from the Company sir, to--to--"
"No; I have come on Mr. Carlyle's behalf," replied Carrados, walkingto a chair as though he moved by a kind of instinct.
Hutchins laughed his wry contempt.
"Mr. Carlyle!" he reiterated; "Mr. Carlyle! Fat lot of good he's been.Why don't he _do_ something for his money?"
"He has," replied Carrados, with imperturbable good-humour; "he hassent me. Now, I want to ask you a few questions."
"A few questions!" roared the irate man. "Why, blast it, I have donenothing else but answer questions for a month. I didn't pay Mr.Carlyle to ask me questions; I can get enough of that for nixes. Whydon't you go and ask Mr. Herbert Ananias Mead your few questions--thenyou might find out something."
There was a slight movement by the door and Carrados knew that thegirl had quietly left the room.
"You saw that, sir?" demanded the father, diverted to a new line ofbitterness. "You saw that girl--my own daughter, that I've worked forall her life?"
"No," replied Carrados.
"The girl that's just gone out--she's my daughter," explainedHutchins.
"I know, but I did not see her. I see nothing. I am blind."
"Blind!" exclaimed the old fellow, sitting up in startled wonderment."You mean it, sir? You walk all right and you look at me as if you sawme. You're kidding surely."
"No," smiled Carrados. "It's quite right."
"Then it's a funny business, sir--you what are blind expecting to findsomething that those with their eyes couldn't," ruminated Hutchinssagely.
"There are things that you can't see with your eyes, Hutchins."
"Perhaps you are right, sir. Well, what is it you want to know?"
"Light a cigar first," said the blind man, holding out his case andwaiting until the various sounds told him that his host was smokingcontentedly. "The train you were driving at the time of the accidentwas the six-twenty-seven from Notcliff. It stopped everywhere until itreached Lambeth Bridge, the chief London station on your line. Thereit became something of an express, and leaving Lambeth Bridge atseven-eleven, should not stop again until it fetched Swanstead onThames, eleven miles out, at seven-thirty-four. Then it stopped on andoff from Swanstead to Ingerfield, the terminus of that branch, whichit reached at eight-five."
Hutchins nodded, and then, remembering, said: "That's right, sir."
"That was your business all day--running between Notcliff andIngerfield?"
"Yes, sir. Three journeys up and three down mostly."
"With the same stops on all the down journeys?"
"No. The seven-eleven is the only one that does a run from the Bridgeto Swanstead. You see, it is just on the close of the evening rush, asthey call it. A good many late business gentlemen living at Swansteaduse the seven-eleven regular. The other journeys we stop at everystation to Lambeth Bridge, and then here and there beyond."
"There are, of course, other trains doing exactly the same journey--aservice, in fact?"
"Yes, sir. About six."
"And do any of those--say, during the rush--do any of those runnon-stop from Lambeth to Swanstead?"
Hutchins reflected a moment. All the choler and restlessness hadmelted out of the man's face. He was again the excellent artisan, slowbut capable and self-reliant.
"That I couldn't definitely say, sir. Very few short-distance trainspass the junction, but some of those may. A guide would show us in aminute but I haven't got one."
"Never mind. You said at the inquest that it was no uncommon thing foryou to be pulled up at the 'stop' signal east of Knight's CrossStation. How often would that happen--only with the seven-eleven,mind."
"Perhaps three times a week; perhaps twice."
"The accident was on a Thursday. Have you noticed that you were pulledup oftener on a Thursday than on any other day?"
A smile crossed the driver's face at the question.
"You don't happen to live at Swanstead yourself, sir?" he asked inreply.
"No," admitted Carrados. "Why?"
"Well, sir, we were _always_ pulled up on Thursday; practicallyalways, you may say. It got to be quite a saying among those who usedthe train regular; they used to look out for it."
Carrados's sightless eyes had the one quality of concealing emotionsupremely. "Oh," he commented softly, "always; and it was quite asaying, was it? And _why_ was it always so on Thursday?"
"It had to do with the early closing, I'm told. The suburban trafficwas a bit different. By rights we ought to have been set back twominutes for that day, but I suppose it wasn't thought worth while toalter us in the time-table so we most always had to wait outside ThreeDeep tunnel for a west-bound electric to make good."
"You were prepared for it then?"
"Yes, sir, I was," said Hutchins, reddening at some recollection, "andvery down about it was one of the jury over that. But, mayhap once inthree months, I did get through even on a Thursday, and it's not forme to question whether things are right or wrong just because they arenot what I may expect. The signals are my orders, sir--stop! go on!and it's for me to obey, as you would a general on the field ofbattle. What would happen otherwise! It was nonsense what they saidabout going cautious; and the man who stated it was a barber whodidn't know the difference between a 'distance' and a 'stop' signaldown to the minute they gave their verdict. My orders, sir, given meby that signal, was 'Go right ahead and keep to your running time!'"
Carrados nodded a soothing assent. "That is all, I think," heremarked.
"All!" exclaimed Hutchins in surprise. "Why, sir, you can't have gotmuch idea of it yet."
"Quite enough. And I know it isn't pleasant for you to be taken alongthe same ground over and over again."
The man moved awkwardly in his chair and pulled nervously at hisgrizzled beard.
"You mustn't take any notice of what I said just now, sir," heapologized. "You somehow make me feel that something may come of it;but I've been badgered about and accused and cross-examined from oneto another of them these weeks till it's fairly made me bitter againsteverything. And now they talk of putting me in a lavatory--me that hasbeen with the company for five and forty years and on the foot-platethirty-two--a man suspected of running past a danger signal."
"You have had a rough time, Hutchins; you will have to exercise yourpatience a little longer yet," said Carrados sympathetically.
"You think something may come of it, sir? You think you will be ableto clear me? Believe me, sir, if you could give me something to lookforward to it might save me from--" He pulled himself up and shook hishead sorrowfully. "I've been near it," he added simply.
Carrados reflected and took his resolution.
"To-day is Wednesday. I think you may hope to hear something from yourgeneral manager towards the middle of next week."
"Good God, sir! You really mean that?"
"In the interval show your good sense by behaving reasonably. Keepcivilly to yourself and don't talk. Above all"--he nodded towards aquart jug that stood on the table between them, an incident thatfilled the simple-minded engineer with boundless wonder when herecalled it afterwards--"above all, leave that alone."
Hutchins snatched up the vessel and brought it crashing down on thehearthstone, his face shining with a set resolution.
"I've done with it, sir. It was the bitterness and despair that droveme to that. Now I can do without it."
The door was hastily opened and Miss Hutchins looked anxiously fromher fa
ther to the visitors and back again.
"Oh, whatever is the matter?" she exclaimed. "I heard a great crash."
"This gentleman is going to clear me, Meg, my dear," blurted out theold man irrepressibly. "And I've done with the drink for ever."
"Hutchins! Hutchins!" said Carrados warningly.
"My daughter, sir; you wouldn't have her
Four Max Carrados Detective Stories Page 6
