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The Constable's Move - Captains All, Book 4. by W. W. Jacobs
page 1 of 18 (05%)

By W.W. Jacobs


[Illustration: "The Constable's Move."]

Mr. Bob Grummit sat in the kitchen with his corduroy-clad legs stretched
on the fender. His wife's half-eaten dinner was getting cold on the
table; Mr. Grummit, who was badly in need of cheering up, emptied her
half-empty glass of beer and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

"Come away, I tell you," he called. "D'ye hear? Come away. You'll be
locked up if you don't."

He gave a little laugh at the sarcasm, and sticking his short pipe in his
mouth lurched slowly to the front-room door and scowled at his wife as
she lurked at the back of the window watching intently the furniture
which was being carried in next door.

"Come away or else you'll be locked up," repeated Mr. Grummit. "You
mustn't look at policemen's furniture; it's agin the law."

Mrs. Grummit made no reply, but, throwing appearances to the winds,
stepped to the window until her nose touched, as a walnut sideboard with
bevelled glass back was tenderly borne inside under the personal
supervision of Police-Constable Evans.